by Rosie Sams
Melody assured Sheila that she could order cookies anytime—there were always cookies to be had. “Although, if you want something fancier, we might have to talk. I don’t want to wear Kerry and Leslie out.”
Sheila laughed. “Your cookies are fancy enough for me.” She patted her hips. “I probably don’t need ’em! But they’re so good! What’s your new cookie obsession this year?”
The two women talked for a few moments, Melody promising to schedule “some quality time” for Smudge at the pet shop soon. Then Sheila said she wanted to make her way over to the tree early, in order to get a good spot. “And by good spot,” Sheila said, winking outrageously, “I mean near the presents at the mayor’s table. Some of those little ones with the coupon packs are first come, first serve, you know.”
When she had gone, Melody turned to Al. “Speaking of presents, have you decided to tell me what mine is yet?”
Al, a tall man with a serious face and intelligent brown eyes, bent down and picked up Smudge for safekeeping. It was just in time before a group of teenagers in Santa hats came jogging down the sidewalk. He had been teasing Melody about her Christmas present since October. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “I might tell you about January or so.”
Melody snorted. “January…when we’ll be closed for three weeks to let all of us recuperate from all the holiday overtime? I suppose you’re only going to tell me in January at the bakery, which will be closed, right?”
Al rubbed Smudge on the head, the Frenchie turned her head this way and that so he didn’t miss a spot. “Either that or the third full moon of a month.”
Melody laughed. “You have to tell someone some time!”
“I did tell someone,” Al said.
“Who?”
“Smudge here knows all my plans.”
Smudge grinned at Melody, her tongue lolling.
“What’s the secret, Smudge?” Melody said
Smudge barked, then grinned again.
“Now, Smudge, don’t go giving away my secrets,” Al said.
Smudge licked his hand, looking very sad, then scrambled to get out of his arms and down to the ground. He let her down, and she trotted off toward a small family group standing underneath a store awning, looking in.
The people turned toward Smudge, and Melody saw that it was Carole Archer, with Trevor. her husband, and their children, Leo and Mariel. Smudge had approached the two children, who were very carefully taking turns petting the dog. Smudge frolicked in front of them, and the adults moved to the side, to make sure that anyone approaching on the sidewalk would have to step around their little group—and not step on the children or the dog.
A single glance was enough to tell Melody that something had happened. Carole looked heartbroken, and the tall, rangy Trevor looked like he was struggling to control his anger. Melody immediately had a suspicion of what the trouble was.
“Oh, Melody,” Carole said, in a tone that wasn’t meant to carry, “you’ll never believe what happened. Bill Garland has decided not only to not pay a big bonus, but not to pay any bonus at all this year.”
“Oh, no!” Melody said, somehow not surprised. “What happened?”
Trevor answered for her. “He didn’t even have the decency to tell my wife to her face. He told Wayne Truman to tell her. Garland decided he needed to ‘invest’ in his business this year. By which I think he decided to buy a bigger boat. But next year, just wait,” he said sarcastically, “he’s sure to pay out a little something. He wasn’t planning to tell anyone at the office—not even Wayne Truman knew about it until this morning.” Trevor shook his head. “Some people. I told Carole to get her resume together. Guys like that, the more money he makes, the stingier he’ll be with it.”
“I’m sure Bill has a good reason,” Carole said.
Trevor put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head, but looked sympathetic. “Then he’ll have a good reason to give you a raise in order to keep you on, won’t he?”
“Oh, let’s not talk about it now,” Carole said. “Let’s walk to the park and watch them light the tree.”
As they walked, Carole tearfully and quietly told Melody that she was going to have to cancel her holiday order. They were having to cut back on a lot of the little extras that they had planned for the holidays. Melody told her not to worry about it.
“If only he’d told me earlier,” Carole said.
“What, and miss the chance to see how disappointed you were when he told you at the last minute?” Trevor asked. “I’m sure he’s laughing at us even now.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
They soon reached the park, which was filling up with faces shining with holiday cheer. “I’ll be right back,” Trevor said, as they approached the big, decorated tree. Turning he went striding across the snow-dotted grass.
“Oh, no.” Carole’s face turned a ghostly shade of grey.
Trevor had spotted Bill Garland near the podium where the mayor would announce the tree lighting in a few minutes, and was now in an angry argument with the lawyer.
Al bent down to pick up Smudge again as Carole jogged after her husband. Melody and Al followed at a slower pace. Melody had taken Leo’s and Mariel’s hands when their parents had left. The two of them looked nervous and she muttered that it would all be okay. Carole glanced back over her shoulder and nodded her appreciation.
Trevor had raised his voice, so it was easy enough to make out what he was shouting as they approached.
“You’ve been working my wife to the bone, Gardner, and what does she get out of it? Not even a word of thanks. Not from you.”
Bill Gardner, a bald, large man with a long face and a frowning mustache, didn’t look too bothered. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to start, Mr. Archer, but now is neither the time nor the place.”
“It wasn’t the time or the place to sneer at my wife earlier today and tell her that she wasn’t getting a bonus this year, either, and yet here we are.”
Bill drew himself up to his full height, but it wasn’t enough to tower over Trevor, who was an inch or two taller. “I don’t owe your wife, or anyone else, anything more than their agreed wages.”
“My wife is done giving you free overtime,” Trevor said.
“Your wife will do what I tell her,” Gardner snapped. “She’s my employee, not yours.”
Trevor grabbed Bill by the collar and started to shake him. It was clear the situation was only going to escalate. Bill knocked Trevor’s arms away, then took a swing at him. Trevor dodged, then planted a punch on the side of Bill’s jaw.
Al let Smudge down, then ran the rest of the way to insert himself quickly between the two men. “How about we calm things down?” he asked. “This isn’t going to look good for anyone involved.”
“I’m pressing charges for assault!” Bill hissed, rubbing the side of his face.
“Well, you could do that, Mr. Gardner, but I, and about a hundred other folks, happened to see you take a swing at Mr. Archer before he took a swing at you,” Al said. “I think that might cause some concerns in court, don’t you?”
Carole was pleading with Trevor to let it go, while Melody gripped firmly onto the two children’s hands.
Bill turned toward her his face as dark as thunder. “I’ll have the key to your office. You’re fired. I’ll have Wayne send your things along tomorrow. I don’t want to see you or your husband’s faces again.”
He stormed off, pushing his way through the crowd, some of whom tittered as he left.
“Oh, Trevor,” Carole said. “Why couldn’t you control yourself? It would have been fine. We would have been fine without a bonus.”
Trevor shook his head. “He just wanted to see how far he could push you. First it would be the bonus. Then he would say that he couldn’t afford to give you a raise. You know him. Then it would be, could you stay a few more hours every week? With men like that, it never ends.”
“Without him as a reference, though…” Carole shook her head. “At least y
ou didn’t get arrested.” She turned to Al. “Thank you, both of you. Without the two of you…” Her eyes filled with tears, and she bent over to give her children a hug. “I’m sorry, guys. This is going to be the worst Christmas ever.”
Both her children were obviously upset. They both hugged their mother while Trevor paced back and forth, still steaming. They had already attracted attention, and standing in front of the mayor’s podium wasn’t helping. Finally, Carole stood up, took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do,” she said looking at her husband.
Trevor, seeing his wife’s tear-streaked face, softened, visibly calming himself. He took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Carole. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Bill Gardner isn’t worth your tears. You deserve better than this.”
“I just wanted the kids to have…”
“Shhh,” Trevor said. “Let’s talk about it later. For now, let’s just move out of the way.”
He turned to Melody and Al. “I’m sorry to have made such a scene. Al, thank you for saving my bacon back there. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Just trying to keep in the holiday spirit,” Al said.
The Archers excused themselves, moving across the park with Mariel holding Carole’s hand, and Leo riding piggyback on his father’s back.
Al picked up Smudge again. “Well, that’s a shame,” he said. “That Bill Gardner, he’s always been hard-hearted, but I’ve never heard of him doing anything like this before. I wonder what brought it on?”
Silently, Melody promised herself that she would find out.
Chapter Sixty-Four
The next morning, long before the sun rose, Melody was working at the bakery. Preparing both the regular baked goods that needed to be ready for walk-in sales, and all the extra holiday orders. She and Kerry consulted over whether to fill Carole Archer’s order anyway, but decided against it. Carole would never accept that much charity from them, and would probably be devastatingly embarrassed to have Melody even offer. Kerry suggested that instead of making more cookies, they make something she had been trying out at home called an “eggnog pie,” an icebox pie that used real eggnog as the base.
“How are the pumpkin pies selling?” Melody asked. She hadn’t had time to check sales the previous evening, but—after Thanksgiving—the pumpkin pie sales seemed to have hit a slump.
Kerry confirmed this.
“How about we change to gingerbread pumpkin pie?” Melody suggested. “Gingerbread cookie crust, gingerbread spices in the filling?”
“I can try it,” Kerry said, making a thoughtful face. “But I’ll do a test batch at home first. I just wish that Carole hadn’t had to cancel her order.”
“Me, too,” Melody said.
Almost an hour before Bill Gardner’s law office opened at eight, Melody hung up her apron and left the bakery under Leslie’s charge. Kerry had gone home and Leslie had come in to replace her. “I’m going to take a break for a while,” she said. “But I’ll be back as soon as I’m done walking Smudge.”
Leslie straightened up from the cookie she was decorating. “Don’t rush! I can handle it. And tell Smudge I said hello!”
“I will.”
Melody changed out of the white sneakers that she wore exclusively at the store, and into her winter walking boots. The season was having trouble deciding whether to be winter or not, switching back and forth from a cold drizzle to tiny flakes over the course of the morning. The ground was only just damp.
She walked home, picked up Smudge, took a deep breath, and headed for Bill Gardner’s law office. She had debated whether to bring a box of cookies with her or not, but decided against it. She wanted to reason with the man, not bribe him.
Melody knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk Bill into giving Carole a bonus that year. That was a bridge too far. If he gave Carole a bonus, then he would have to give all his employees a bonus. And Melody was sure that the man’s pride, so evident last night at the tree-lighting ceremony, wouldn’t stretch that far.
But she might just be able to talk him into not firing her.
The argument that she planned to make was that Carole was a good bookkeeper, far better than average, who already had a solid understanding of Bill’s business. Not only that, but she was always available for whatever other tasks Bill asked of her. Tasks far beyond the scope of bookkeeping. Carole was perfectly willing to play secretary, legal clerk, researcher, and interviewer as necessary. Kerry had heard all kinds of gossip about the woman getting in arguments with her husband over her job, and Melody had often chatted with the stressed, overworked Carole in the mornings when she came in for pastries and coffees as a “special treat.”
The other thing Melody wanted to mention was that Carole was a person of such integrity that she would never do anything to sabotage Bill’s business. If he hired her back, she wouldn’t be resentful. She wouldn’t let things slide. She probably wouldn’t even talk badly about him behind his back.
In short, Bill would be wise to ignore Trevor’s insults, and punch to the jaw, in order to keep Carole in his employ.
Melody hoped that he would hire Carole back on, and that Carole would take the job but start looking for new employment. Really, Carole just needed to find work to tide her over until she found another position. Trevor had had some good points, too. Carole was working a lot of overtime, and her boss didn’t appreciate her the way he should.
The Gardner Law Agency was in a pleasant, two-story brick building with white trim and big, latticed windows. The windows sparkled from the drizzle and from strings of plain white holiday lights that had been hung inside them. The street lights had turned off, but the day was so dark that it almost felt like night. Most of the shops and businesses hadn’t opened yet. The streets had been cleaned from the parade the previous evening, streaks from the street sweepers were still visible here and there, but the overflowing trash bins hadn’t been removed yet. Smudge sniffed at everything, happily trotting among last night’s smells.
Melody checked the front door of the law office, but it was locked, and, other than the Christmas lights in the front windows, it was still dark inside. She cupped her hands around her face and peered in. Hopefully, Bill hadn’t decided to sleep in this morning.
Someone was moving around in the back of the office. She saw a faint silhouette of someone’s shoulder hunched over a desk. It was as if they were bending over to get something out of a drawer. Then she heard a surprised grunt, as if she herself had been spotted.
Face turning red, Melody stepped away from the window, then slipped around the side of the building along the cross street. She’d been seen peering in through the window! How embarrassing. She straightened her shoulders and decided to stick with her plan, even if her face was a little red and she had to knock at the back door instead of the front.
Before she reached the alleyway behind the building, she heard a door slam, then the sound of footsteps rapidly descending stairs, followed by the crunch of shoes running on gravel. Something about the sound was strange, or unexpected. Melody felt a little scared, it was still a little dark and everywhere was so quiet. She didn’t have time to think about it, because Smudge pulled suddenly on her leash. The Frenchie managed to slip the end off her hand and ran around the corner.
“Oh, Smudge,” Melody moaned, and went running after her.
Around the corner, someone was disappearing behind an overfull trash container and into a stand of trees. It was like they were taking flight, as if they were running away. Smudge stopped at the edge of the alley and barked at the escaping figure.
Melody clucked her tongue, wondering if Smudge had just chased off a thief. It would be easy for someone to take advantage of everyone being slow to get started this morning. But why not strike at three a.m., and not almost eight? Melody decided she was just glad that Smudge hadn’t kept chasing the figure.
It probably meant that Bill wasn’t in the office, though.
Melody looked at the back door, which was s
till slightly ajar, and shook her head. She should call Al and tell him what had happened.
Pulling out her phone, she walked across the parking lot, and dialed 911. “Hello? I’d like to report a possible break-in,” she said.
“Address?”
“I’m behind Bill Gardner’s law office,” Melody said. “This is Melody Marshall from the bakery. I was out walking my dog and saw someone running away from the building, and the back door is ajar.”
“Okay, ma’am. I’m sending someone to investigate. Please stay there so you can answer some questions.”
“I will,” Melody promised, then hung up.
She climbed to the back door of the office, careful not to touch anything, and peered inside. “Bill? You’re not in, are you?”
Of course, there was no answer. Smudge pushed at the door, nudging it open far enough for Melody to see inside. “Smudge!” Melody said, grabbing tightly onto her leash. But, still, she couldn’t help peering inside.
The only office on the first floor was Carole’s. Bill’s secretary worked in the front at a reception desk, and the other room at the bottom of the stairs—much larger than Carole’s office—was for records. Bill’s and Wayne Truman’s offices were upstairs.
A faint light came from Carole’s office.
“Carole?” Melody asked. “Are you here?”
Still no answer. A cardboard box was sitting in the middle of Carole’s doorway, tipped on one side, the contents spilling everywhere. A small plant had been overturned and was scattering dirt. A photo of Carole and her family was sitting along the opposite side of the hallway, as if kicked to one side.
“That’s odd,” Melody said.
Then she heard the sound of something falling heavily in Carole’s office—something that sounded suspiciously like someone sliding off a chair and landing on the wood floor.
