Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set

by Katherine H Brown

  Flo tilted her head. “How would we make the cookies part of the bouquet?”

  We discussed options for a while, settling on the cookies being wrapped in cellophane and taped to long sticks. Flo had some ideas for stability to keep the cookies from being top-heavy and we agreed that I would deliver the cookie stems to her for all of the final arrangings. Cookies could be written on with icing to take the place of a card, or shaped into anything from flowers to sunshine, smileys, and more.

  “This could be really fun,” Flo’s eyes sparkled. “You said you had more than one idea?”

  ~

  I walked back to the bakery with, dare I say it, a spring in my step. Flo had been excited about the ideas and spoke in hopeful tones about her business again. It felt good to help others, a fact I had been reminded of when Sam and I did so much to fundraise money for Breaking Chains, one of many organizations fighting human trafficking, several weeks ago.

  Samantha Lowe happened to be my best friend and co-owner of the Ooey Gooey Bakery where we worked. The business had taken off more quickly than we dreamed and just last weekend we had worked our first out-of-town catering event.

  I pushed open the door and inhaled the sweet scent of ooey gooey deliciousness. The subtle fragrance of vanilla extract might be my favorite scent in the world. I waved to a few of our early morning customers and exchanged greetings on my way to the counter where Sam waited for me. I noticed the freshly painted tables were the buzz of most conversations.

  “Millie’s tabletop scenes are still a hit it sounds like,” I tipped my head to all of the brilliant dancing cookies and gorgeous cupcakes painted in bright, beautiful colors.

  “Are those the flowers for Kendra?”

  “Yes. Aren’t they nice? And friendly?”

  “Spill it. Why is Griff giving Kendra flowers, why are you happy with it, and where do cookies come in?”

  Saved from answering right away by a customer, I rang up an order for Grandpa Rex – the grandkids were getting Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies this week – and counted out change for him while Sam put the cookies in a to-go bag.

  “You will recall that in exchange for information about what substance the canister held that got me hauled in for questioning, Griff had to make a deal with your mother?”

  “Of course. The deal was that he takes Kendra to the Independence Day Parade though.”

  “True, but Griff is taking Kendra out tonight instead to explain things. I don’t know what that will mean for the parade, Griff isn’t the type to break his word, but he told me he wanted to get the date with Kendra over so that nothing stood in the way of him and me.”

  Sam shrugged. “Fine, he goes on a date with her. That doesn’t explain the flowers and cookies and you….” Running out of words, Sam waved her hand up and down at me and then the flowers that were on the counter.

  “Okay. Well, to be honest, I’m not happy with any of it, but I will not ask Griff to go back on his word. That would be wrong. The date includes the full works: flowers, dinner, wine, all of it. I helped with the flowers to make sure they didn’t scream romance and you heard me suggest the cookies.”

  She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You suggested cookies because...you’re now planning to resort to poison? Piper, you know there is no double jeopardy thing since you were never charged. If you poison my brother’s date, you may go to jail. It might be hard to date Griff from jail. Also, I don’t want to run the bakery without you.”

  I doubled over in laughter. Sam rang up two more customers while I tried to compose myself.

  “I do not plan to poison Kendra. I do not plan to poison anyone,” I stated as clearly as I could before sticking my tongue out at my friend. A bad habit for kids, worse that I’m an adult but what can I say, some habits aren’t worth breaking. “I suggested the cookies because not only is this the first dinner date it will also be the last and only one; cookies will cushion the blow. After all, it isn’t Kendra’s fault that Deidra is a menace to the lives of both her children.”

  “Amen to that,” Sam rolled her eyes.

  I imagined thoughts of Deidra’s reaction when Sam told her she planned to open the bakery with me were running through her head as they were mine. Deidra Lowe took her role as the mayor’s wife of Seashell Bay very seriously. As in, seriously stuck up and concerned only with power and appearance. I shook my head, amazed at how Griff and Sam had turned out as normal, caring individuals when their mother groomed them to be political puppets for most of their childhood.

  “I’m also glad you don’t plan to poison people,” Sam winked, successfully drawing me back to reality from my thoughts.

  “That reminds me though, I need to tell you about the ideas Flo and I discussed that I think will eliminate her summer sales slump, and draw in some extra business for the Ooey Gooey as well.”

  “Great, Gladys called earlier and should be here shortly. She can watch the counter while we go talk about your plans and put some more cookies in.”

  “Perfect,” I glanced at the door as the bell chimed above it. “Look, there’s Gladys now.”

  Chapter 2

  “Good morning girls!” Gladys hugged each of us in turn. “How did you enjoy your working weekend at The Cove’s Cabins?”

  I glanced at Sam. She looked back at me with big, round eyes.

  “Tell me, you girls didn’t get yourselves into trouble again did you? Piper? Sam?’ the older woman narrowed her eyes as we stayed quiet.

  She pursed her lips as seconds ticked by. My hands started to sweat; it felt like any minute now I would be grounded or something.

  Sam tried to make a break for the register to help a customer, but Gladys steered them away, asking if they had seen the latest truffle flavors.

  “Piper got us tied up and locked in a brothel,” she blurted in a harsh whisper.

  Gladys raised her eyebrows. I busied myself bagging up truffles and cookies for the teen at the register. I counted back the change to her slowly…in all pennies. Finally, I turned.

  “Technically, it was a massage parlor,” I pointed out.

  For several minutes, we told Glady the condensed version of events from our harrowing weekend.

  “I’m not sure it’s safe for you two to leave the bakery,” Gladys harrumphed at the end. “Then again, if trouble is going to find you, I’m happy for you to take it far from me.”

  We laughed. “How about you? Anything new or fun?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  Sam and I shared another look. We found out that Gladys had been going to cooking classes taught by none other than Chef Fabio, whom she and thirty other ladies had enjoyed ogling at the O Heavenly Day Spa several weeks prior. Gladys had a lifetime of cooking skills accumulated, so much so she could probably teach her own class. Truly, I think Chef Fabio’s French accent more than his cooking had bewitched them all; regardless, Gladys was keeping this new class a secret for some reason that Sam and I hadn’t yet figured out.

  “Well, thanks for helping out at the bakery while we were away this weekend.” Sam smiled.

  “And for watching the counter today during lunch, too,” I added. “Sam and I will be right in the back. Come get us if you need anything.”

  “Is there dough already chilled?” I asked as we stepped into the large kitchen.

  “In the fridge. I’ll preheat the oven and ready the pans.”

  I walked to the large walk-in fridge and snagged two bowls. Placing them on the counter, I scooped balls of Black and Whites onto the parchment-lined pan. Sam, in the meantime, made us each a glass of iced green tea. After the cookies were in the oven with the timer set, I sat down next to Sam at the large island work station.

  “Do we need your notebook or have you already made lists?” Sam asked.

  Sam knew good and well that I had already made several lists. I make lists of lists that need to be made. I find lists to be therapeutic. I ignored her, sniffing pointedly, as I pulled a slim notepad from the side pocket of my carg
o pants.

  “Do I at least get to see the list?” she smirked.

  “No. You are obviously a doubter of the great good of lists and therefore unworthy of possessing said list.”

  “Fine,” she tossed her hands up in defeat. “Please, read me your list. I really am curious how in the world we can help Flo sell flowers.”

  I explained to Sam my ideas about adding flower-shaped cookies to special occasion arrangements Flo makes. “Flo liked the idea, but where I think we can really boost sales are from Fourth of July Specials.”

  “What kind of specials? For us or for Flo?”

  “Both.” I put my notebook away and pulled out my phone. For this, visuals would help. “See all of the combinations of red, white, and blue flowers that can be made?” I scrolled down the screen.

  “Those are extraordinary,” Sam breathed.

  I smiled. I knew this would be a good plan. “Exactly. And Flo has never used this holiday to increase store traffic before. It is a great opportunity though because tons of people are hosting parties and celebrations. Red, white and blue flowers would be a simple and elegant decoration. So, besides adding gorgeous Fourth of July bouquets, we are going to run a joint sale. Parties need cookies after all.”

  “Tell me about the sale.”

  “Anyone who purchases a Fourth of July bouquet from Flo’s Flowers will receive a coupon for ten percent off of their Fourth of July cookie order!”

  “That’s brilliant!” Sam clapped. “I’ll design some advertisements to place on the counter here and at Flo’s so that the word gets out early.”

  “Thanks, Sam. That would be perfect.”

  The timer buzzed on the oven. Sam grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled the pans, sliding the cookie-laden parchment paper onto cooling racks. Delicious scents of chocolate filled the air as the room warmed slightly.

  “Didn’t Landon come in earlier?” I asked over my shoulder as I continued making a few more notes on my list. Landon was a friend from childhood who had recently popped back into my life. His sudden appearance, while confusing at first, was something else I was thankful for; I had been happy to see him again, doing well, and surprised to find out he had a career with Breaking Chains.

  “Yes, he dropped in to see how we were doing. He said he had a few people to meet with in town and might stop by again later for some cookies.”

  “Cool,” I stretched. “I think I’ll go help Gladys with the register for a few minutes and check out the display case for empty spots.”

  ~

  We worked for most of the day baking, selling, and cleaning up. Business remained steady and gratefulness hummed inside of me.

  At half-past four, Victoria rushed in. “Am I late?” she panted, heaving her book bag onto a chair.

  “Not at all. You’re just in time to help me bake up some practice cupcakes.” I smiled at the teen. She and her friend Millie had been lifesavers, helping Gladys with the bakery while Sam and I had been catering at the retreat over the weekend. I had been excited to see Victoria’s text this morning asking if we still needed part-time help. She had great ideas in the kitchen and I hoped to help boost her confidence.

  We walked through the swinging door from the café part of the bakery into the kitchen. I stopped short, surprised to find Millie and Sam huddled over a laptop.

  “Hey, Millie! Did you come to help bake, too?”

  “No way!” She shook her head quickly. “That is definitely all Victoria. You know my skills in the kitchen are limited to opening the refrigerator door, and even that goes wrong sometimes.” We all chuckled.

  “I invited Millie here to help with the advertisements and flyers for our holiday promotion,” Sam explained, a twinkle in her eye. “I’m going to handle the actual wording and layout but after seeing her artwork first-hand….”

  “Sam’s letting me do the graphics!” Millie bounced up and down, long blonde ponytail swaying back and forth.

  My heart warmed that Sam had obviously developed a soft spot for the two girls, also, and my smile grew. “That sounds awesome,” I told them. “Millie, you should know, the beautiful tables that you painted are still receiving compliments.”

  “Thanks,” she beamed.

  “Do you have any other art assignments coming up? Ones where you will need to paint something large?”

  Millie tilted her head and thought a moment. “I just might,” she said. “I’ll double-check the syllabus but I think we had to do three projects this summer.”

  “Let me know. I have another idea for you.” Victoria and I moved to the pantry and pulled out the ingredients we would need.

  “What kind of practice cupcakes are we making?” Victoria asked, eyeing the ingredients with suspicion.

  “Red Velvet Blueberry Cheesecake Cupcakes!”

  Just then, Gladys poked her head through the door. “Piper.…” She stepped aside as a deputy pushed his way into the room.

  “Piper Rivers?” he asked.

  I wiped flour from my hands and stepped forward. “Yes. May I help you?”

  The man thrust a folded paper into my hands. “You’ve been served.”

  Chapter 3

  Gladys peeked back into the café. “Everyone is cozy. Go ahead and open it.” She waited along with Sam, Victoria, and Millie, each of them watching as I tore open the envelope.

  I scanned the page, my eyes roving up and down until finally, I released the breath I had been holding. “It’s a subpoena to testify,” I answered the unspoken question on everyone’s face.

  “Testify about what?” Victoria asked.

  “That, that is a long story.”

  ~

  Hours later, I yawned. “I’m beat.” I wouldn’t tell Sam, but mentally I was a wreck, too. The words of the subpoena were burned into my brain: You are hereby summoned to be and personally appear at 8:00 AM on the 27th day of June 2019 before the Pierson County District Court to testify and to speak the truth….

  “It has seemed like a long first day back at the Ooey Gooey,” Sam nodded in agreement. “Ready to call it a night?”

  I stirred and blinked to clear my head. “Yep. I think it’s time I headed home to my own cozy bed.”

  Sam shot me a side-glance. “Have you heard from Griff?”

  “Not yet.” I turned out the lights.

  “Have you texted him to see if his date with Kendra is over?”

  “Not yet.” I locked the back door as we left the bakery.

  Sam laughed. “Would you be interested in stalking the town to see if we can find them?”

  “I thought you would never ask!”

  “Come on,” she linked her arm through mine and steered me to her yellow Juke.

  Driving through our quaint little town, we scanned the parking lots of the top three best restaurants, Oyster House, Roadhouse, and Momma’s Diner, but didn’t see Griff’s truck at any of them. We passed the movie theater with a much more crowded parking lot than I expected for a Monday night.

  “I don’t think they would have gone to a movie,” I said.

  “Me neither. Let me think, surely not fast-food chains either.” Sam pulled into a gas station to fill up.

  “I’ve got it!” Getting back in the car, Sam drove us down to the marina. A few small boats were moored at their docks, along with two larger yachts. Fishing trawlers were still out for the evening it looked like.

  “The boat docks?”

  “No.” Sam pointed to a well-lit building teeming with fancy cars in the parking lot. “The Daily Catch.”

  I looked. Sure enough, Griff’s truck sat high above the swanky sports cars in the lot. Being so far from the hubbub of town, not to mention outrageously priced, I always forgot this restaurant existed way out here.

  “How did you know Griff would be here? Is the food that good?”

  “The food is that good, but that isn’t why Griff brought Kendra here.”

  I waited. “Well? Why here then?”

  Sam turned the car back around
to the highway, angling back toward the heart of the town. “Maximum exposure,” Sam said as she merged onto the road. “Mother would have received a text, maybe even a phone call, the moment Griff walked in those doors. This is where her Catamaran Club meets. Only the social aristocracy have memberships to The Dailey Catch.”

  The ride back to pick up my truck stayed quiet. Lost in thought, our arrival came quickly and took me by surprise. Sam’s reasoning for Griff made sense; still, I had lost my appetite and planned to crawl into a book and hide for a few hours when I got home.

  “See you tomorrow,” Sam called through her open window as I climbed into my beautiful blue truck. I waved and, with a prayer, turned the key. The truck rumbled to life and I said a sincere thanks as I drove home. One day, I’m going to have to get the starter checked for a short.

  Getting lost in a book turned out to be harder than planned. Every few minutes, rather than the words on the page, I kept picturing the subpoena again. I couldn’t believe that I had been called to testify. Me. Only me. I mean, my goodness, there were multiple of us tied up in that room. Why did the prosecution think that I could make some big difference at Regina’s trial?

  Giving up on finding out whether or not Prince Charming overcame his beastly curse and met his princess, at last, I put away my book and punched the pillows into submission. Falling into a fitful sleep, I dreamed that the judge sentenced me to prison for not being able to explain how to bake a perfectly risen souffle for his wife’s birthday.

  ~

  The next morning, I awoke more nervous about testifying than ever; now I feared being put back in jail for no reason. The temperature hit seventy-five degrees out before I got to the Ooey Gooey Goodness Bakery at five to start baking. I tossed my hair up in a short ponytail and turned on the fan in the kitchen. Sam stepped inside shortly after me.

  “Wow! Your hair looks amazing in that braid.” I stepped closer to admire it. “The red kind of twirls all through it like woven ribbon.”

  “Thanks,” Sam smiled as she tied her apron strings around her neck. “I couldn’t stand to have it down today. Looks like our summer heat wave is really cranking up.”