As Long As There's Cake

by K. J. Emrick

  “But he needs glasses? How old is he?”

  “Not as old as us,” he laughed. “He’s only just fifty.”

  “Really? I had no idea. Well. Then maybe he should look into getting contacts.”

  “Oh? You mean like you should?”

  She slapped his shoulder playfully. He knew how sensitive she was about her eyesight. “You can sleep on the couch tonight, you know.”

  “No way. I’m sleeping with you, in your bed upstairs. I already missed out on that last night. I don’t want to miss out on tonight, or any night for the rest of our life.”

  “Hmmm. I like the way you said that.”

  Cream grumbled to himself as he walked away from them. He could see they were going to spend their time paying attention to each other rather than scratching that spot behind his neck that he could never quite reach. Since no one was going to pet him, he decided it was time for bed.

  “So,” Cookie said, “you took away Jonathan Graham’s thunder, did you? I wish I could have seen his face. Was the supposed accomplice the only information he had? What did he say when you told him you had already figured out what he was going to tell you?”

  “I have to be honest, it stumped him for a minute and it felt really good to stick it to him like that. I suppose we have you to thank for that. You figured out what he was going to use for his bargaining chip, after all.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He kissed her forehead in reply. “Yeah, well. Unfortunately, it didn’t take him long to come up with something else. Now he’s claiming the accomplice has the backpack the robber used, and that there’s still some of the money in it.”

  Cookie frowned. A backpack? Hadn’t Mara said something about that when she was doing her hair earlier? Yes. A backpack, stuffed with the cash from the bank. Mara’s mother Rosalyn had told her about it, and said she hoped it burned up in the crash.

  So, Graham talking about a backpack tracked with what they already knew about the robbery. Could he be telling the truth about an accomplice after all?

  Interesting.

  “Mister Graham has more tricks up his sleeve than a fruitcake has cherries,” Cookie said. “Well, I suppose this new revelation will be just as easy to debunk as the load of tripe he’s already tried to feed you, won’t it? I mean, all you have to do is just go and search Ed and Pauline’s houses, right? If there’s no backpack in either place, Graham doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

  He stepped back from her, just far enough to look into her eyes. “Not quite that easy. We’ll need search warrants to do that. We were kind of hoping that our interviews with those two would reveal something that we could use to look through their homes right then. I mean, if one of them confessed it would make my life a lot easier, even if it would give Graham his pass. At the same time, I don’t want to arrest either of them if I don’t have to.”

  “So where does that leave you?”

  “Just about where we started from. It just means we’ll have to wait for search warrants.”

  “So that’s your next step?”

  “Yes.” He suddenly looked very tired, as if talking about all of this had drained whatever reserves he had left. “We’re going to apply to the judge tomorrow morning for the warrants after we get all the paperwork together and do background checks on Ed and Pauline. That sort of thing. I’m really tired, Cookie. Let’s go up to bed and worry about all of this tomorrow.”

  He waved a hand around the bakery, indicating that he meant her problems with Clarissa and Rick, as well as his issues at work. Then he yawned, and the yawn spread to Cookie even though she tried to stifle it behind the back of one wrist.

  It was definitely time for bed. Tomorrow would start a brand-new day of problems. Best to face it on a good night’s rest.

  Chapter 6

  In the morning, Cookie woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon coming up the stairs and into the apartment. Odd, she thought to herself, considering she was up here in bed with Jerry and not down in the kitchen cooking.

  When she was awake enough to realize she wasn’t dreaming she untangled her legs from Jerry’s and slid off the side of the mattress. They always found a way to fit together while they slept. The door to their bedroom had been closed all night because Clarissa and Rick were sleeping in the room right across the hall. Usually they left it open for Cream to wander in and out however he wanted to. Cookie had gotten up with him once during the night when he scratched for her attention, but other than that they’d slept the night through.

  Now she got up and wrapped her robe around her and opened the door to find the little Chihuahua sitting there and waiting for her, wagging his tail. She smiled at him and bent down to scratch his ears. “You smell it, too? Well, well. I suppose someone’s in our kitchen making breakfast.” She yawned and looked at the clock. “Although if it’s who I think it is, they really should be cooking something else.”

  The door to the stairs was open, which was how she could smell the cooking. She made sure Cream had a bowl of moist kibble for his breakfast, and then went down. The aromas got stronger as she went. Bacon. Toast. Eggs. Veggies frying in a pan.

  She found Clarissa and Rick at the stove and the counters, whisking eggs in bowls, melting butter in a pan, taking things down from cabinets and moving like they had been working together like this for years. She was surprised to see them awake before her, ready to take on the day, even if Rick still hadn’t shaved away the uneven scruff from his cheeks and chin.

  They were smiling, and laughing, and every once in a while, Rick would touch Clarissa’s hand or her cheek. She dabbed the end of his nose with flour. He stole her hand towel. Cookie stood and watched them for a moment, marveling at how they fit together so well. It was a perfect moment between two people who loved each other.

  This was a relationship worth saving, Cookie told herself. What Clarissa and Rick had together was special even if it was broken. Even if they had no end of trouble in their lives, they could be happy together.

  If they could get past the problems Rick had created for them, that was.

  She grimaced. She still didn’t like him as a Rick.

  Clarissa finally noticed her watching. She giggled at how she’d been caught acting so silly, and then wiped her hands on her apron as she came over to throw her arms around her grandmother’s neck. “Good morning! We didn’t want to wake you. Rick and I were going to make everyone breakfast as a surprise treat.”

  Cookie returned the hug, but then started walking with her back to the stove. “I know you haven’t done this for a while, dear, but we start by cooking the items we need for the bakery every morning. Breakfast for ourselves comes after that.”

  At the stove, Rick slammed the frying pan down on the burner. Slivered onions and strips of green pepper and diced tomatoes flew everywhere. The smile he’d been wearing when Cookie first came in shattered, replaced by a glower that set Cookie back a step on her heel.

  “Oh, that’s just great,” he bellowed. “Just great! We try to do something nice for you and you come down on us like we’re ruining your life. Fantastic. No, that’s just great! We were going to start the muffins and the bread and the freaking tarts after we brought this up to you and Jerry but you know what? You can just take care of it yourself!”

  Yanking his apron off, he tossed it into a corner. Then he stomped his way through the swinging door and into the outer room of the bakery. A moment later, Cookie heard the shopkeeper’s bell jangle loudly as he opened and slammed the front door shut.

  Cookie stared after him, trying to understand the violent swing in his emotions. At the same time, she supposed there was no understanding it. His behavior was a complete overreaction. He’d been in such a good mood just two minutes ago. Now he was a thunderhead looking to crash down on anyone in his path. Sure, she had told him that he and Clarissa needed to do things differently, but that wasn’t even a criticism. That was just a simple fact. If they wanted to work here, then they needed to do things t
he right way.

  She remembered what Clarissa had said—and not said—about how Rick had lost his job. His behavior certainly hadn’t improved. If he hadn’t learned his lesson yet, they were going to have a hard road ahead of them. You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to change.

  Her granddaughter huffed. “Why are you ruining this for us?” she demanded in a quiet voice. “I asked you for help, Grandma. We need this chance to start over. Rick is under a lot of stress and he just needs some encouragement. Why can’t you do that for him? Seriously, if we can just support him, he’ll get back on his feet in no time and then everything will be right again.”

  Cookie was taken aback. “Clarissa, you can’t make excuses for him. Can’t you see how his behavior is what’s ruining things for you? Rick needs help.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Clarissa insisted. “He needs our help to make things right. I’m helping him the best I can, but I need you to do the same for him. He needs us.”

  “He needs help, yes, but that’s not the kind of help I was talking about. His addiction is riding him, making him do bad things and make bad choices. He was going to steal from me, Clarissa. I’m willing to bet he’s stolen from you in the past and if things don’t change for him, I’m very worried about what he might do next.”

  Face turning red, Clarissa turned her face away. “Grandma…”

  “No, don’t you ‘Grandma’ me. You need to hear this. That boy is in trouble. He is in serious, deep trouble and he is dragging you down with him. If you want to help him, don’t make excuses for him.” She paused for breath as a thought occurred to her. “Was he high just now? Was that why…? Did that boy take anything this morning? Clarissa, he is not to bring drugs under this roof. I may not be living here for much longer, but this is still my place of business. This is still my shop and my reputation, and I will not allow drugs here.”

  “No! Grandma I swear, he doesn’t do that anymore.”

  The lie hung between them, until tears pooled in the corners of Clarissa’s eyes. She folded her arms and huddled into herself as her lip began to quiver.

  Cookie’s heart softened like melted butter. She reached for her granddaughter and held her close. She wanted to fix this for her, right now, so that Clarissa wouldn’t have to worry anymore and wouldn’t have to cry one more tear over a boy who was supposed to love her and take care of her. There was no quick fix to the problem of drug abuse, however. Cookie could only imagine the struggle that Clarissa had ahead of her.

  And her too, she supposed, since they had come to her for help.

  “I just don’t know what to do,” Clarissa whispered. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “That,” Cookie told her, “is the smartest thing I’ve heard you say since you got here. Well. I may not have all the answers but maybe we can figure this out together. For right now, what we are going to do is start the baking for the day. We’ll get that done before my early bird customers come knocking on my door. Then later, when things quiet down, we’re going to call your mother. I’m sure you haven’t done that yet and Madison deserves to know what’s going on with you. Don’t you agree?”

  Reluctantly, Clarissa nodded.

  “Good. Now. We will give your young man some time to calm down, but when he returns, the three of us are going to sit down and have a real conversation about his problem. You will need to make some hard decisions, you know. Some decisions that he and maybe even you won’t like.”

  “I know that, but…”

  “Do you?” Cookie interrupted her. “Do you really? The best thing you can do for Rick right now is to make him see he has to get himself clean if he plans on keeping you. It may come to a point where you have to be ready to walk away from him, in order to keep him.”

  Those words struck Clarissa like a physical smack. In the circle of her arms, Cookie could feel her shaking. “I don’t know if I can do that, Grandma.”

  “Certainly you can. Because I’m going to help you. Jerry will be there to help you as well. You won’t have to do this alone, granddaughter of mine, but you will have to do it.”

  Clarissa stepped back with a look of panic. “You didn’t tell Jerry about any of this, did you?”

  “Shh, child. Calm yourself down. All I’ve said is that you and Rick are having some troubles. I haven’t told him what those are yet, and I won’t so long as Rick doesn’t bring his troubles here. However, I think you should give Jerry more credit. If you went to him and explained what was going on, then he might have some ways of helping that neither of us has thought of.”

  “No. I can’t… I can’t involve the police. Not even Jerry. Not yet, anyway.” Clarissa wiped at the tears in her eyes. “It’s going to be hard enough to tell my mom even a little bit of this. You don’t understand how hard it was to come here and tell all of this to you, Grandma.”

  “Oh, I think I do, dear.” She nodded, settling her hands on Clarissa’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you for that, actually. It was brave, coming here. Brave to tell me the truth, too. That’s always the hard part, getting to the truth. When the truth is out, the rest of it comes easy.”

  Clarissa laughed dryly. “You really think that’s the hard part? Is that why you haven’t told Jerry yet?”

  “No. I haven’t told him because like I said, this is your secret. At least for now. Plus, Jerry has his mind on other things. There’s a case he’s working on that involves an old robbery from the bank in town.”

  “The one from Northern Adirondack Savings Bank? Oh, I remember that.” Clarissa wiped at her tears again, obviously glad for the change in the subject. “What, did they catch that freak who crashed in his getaway plane?”

  “Land sakes,” Cookie said, “how on Earth did you know about that? You’re far too young to remember when that happened.”

  “It was a pretty big thing for Widow’s Rest. People still talk about it around town. The robbery, the whole plane thing, how they never found the body or the money and all of that.”

  “Well, yes, that’s all true,” Cookie said. “More or less. It turns out it’s even more complicated than that. There’s someone in Jerry’s jail right now who insists the money is still in town somewhere. He thinks one of the people at the bank helped the robber steal the money and kept some of it for themselves. Or maybe all of it. He isn’t saying too much right now. In fact, he’s playing a game, trying to get out of his own trouble by pointing the finger at a bigger criminal.”

  “Like the bank robber?”

  “His accomplice. I don’t think he knows who the robber is, but finding the accomplice could lead the police to whoever did the deed all those years ago. Jerry’s hoping to get search warrants today for the houses of the bank employees who are still alive.”

  Clarissa’s jaw dropped. “Wow. Life is never dull here, is it? So, what? The robber took the money and boarded a plane, but before he did, he left some of the money behind—”

  “In a backpack,” Cookie added.

  “But before he could get away the plane crashed, and his share burned up and… what? He got away? Parachuted out?”

  Cookie shrugged. “No one knows for sure. They never found a body, but I suppose he could have fallen out of the plane somewhere and still be lying there dead, waiting to be found. Or he might have parachuted to safety and got away. I just don’t know.”

  A little smile crooked at Clarissa’s mouth, now that the conversation had moved away from her problems and on to someone else’s. “That’s crazy. That’s like something out of a movie.”

  “That’s what I said!” Cookie agreed. “The whole thing doesn’t make much sense and I think there’s a good chance the man is lying about it all, just to save himself from going to prison. I mean, to expect there to be a backpack stuffed with stolen money from a bank heist that happened more than twenty years ago is stretching things quite a bit. I wouldn’t expect to see a plot like that on a Saturday Night Live skit…”

  Her eyebrows knitted together as she
thought of something. A backpack. Full of money.

  A backpack.

  Both Mara and Jonathan Graham had mentioned the robber using a backpack. At the time, Cookie had taken that as a little bit of proof that Jonathan Graham might be telling the truth.

  Except, Cookie had seen the police reports on Officer Loretta Hill’s desk and on her computer. There were statements included in that file, taken from the three bank employees. She’d read them all. Skimmed them, really, but there wasn’t a whole lot of detail in any of the pages. She could remember everything that was written in them.

  Not one of them had mentioned anything about a backpack. Mara’s beauty salon had been the first place she’d heard that particular detail.

  Then how could Jonathan Graham know that the robber’s accomplice had the backpack with the stolen money?

  More importantly, how did Mara know about it?

  Unless…

  Cookie had to tell Jerry about this, and she had to tell him right now. She also had to get things ready for the bakery today. There was only a little more than two hours before she was supposed to open the doors. She needed to be everywhere at once, but there was only one of her.

  “Clarissa,” she said, “do you think you’d be up to opening the bakery by yourself today? Do you think you could do that?”

  “What? Well, sure I guess. I’ve done it with you enough times, back when you had me helping here. I’m sure I could do it by myself now.”

  “That’s my girl. Make sure you set out the strawberry scones today because I made far too many of them and I need to sell them off. Put them at half price this morning. If you run into any trouble you can call me. Thank you, Clarissa. This will be a big help.”

  “Where are you going, Grandma?”

  She gave Clarissa’s shoulders a squeeze. “I’m going to wake up Jerry. There’s something we need to check on.”