by Amber Crewes
Meghan rose to her feet and gestured to Pamela. “Pamela? Where is Lawrence’s donut? Did you forget it?”
Pamela scurried into the dining area with a small yellow bag in her hands. “I forgot it earlier,” she laughed nervously as she stared at Lawrence, her cheeks turning red. “But I wrapped up two donuts for Lawrence to take. Here you go, Lawrence.”
Lawrence nodded. “Thank you, Pamela,” he told the teenager who was staring at him in adoration. “Meghan, it was a pleasure.”
As soon as Lawrence left the bakery, Pamela collapsed into a fit of giggles. “He’s so cute, Meghan,” she gushed as she ran to the window to stare at Lawrence as he got into his police car.
“He’s too old for you, Pamela,” Meghan told her young employee. “You acted like such a goose when he was in here. I think he knows you have a crush on him, my dear.”
Pamela’s face turned red, and she giggled as she walked into the kitchen. As Pamela left the room, the silver bells chimed once more, and Meghan was shocked when Ron Thomas walked through the door of the bakery.
“Mr. Thomas,” Meghan murmured as he greeted her with sad eyes. “What can I do for you? I am so sorry to hear about your sister’s passing.”
Ron gestured at the portfolio he was carrying. “We had a meeting for today, remember?”
Meghan bit her lip. “I didn’t expect that you would make it to our meeting given the circumstances of the the last few days,” she admitted.
Ron shrugged. “It’s a tragic loss, but my work has kept me going over the last few days. I am heartbroken, of course, and I will be flying home to Wisconsin after the autopsy to spend time with my parents, who are also devastated. But, for today, I have some designs to show you. It will only be a short meeting. Are you still available?”
Meghan nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll have some food brought out. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to meet with me today.”
Ron opened his leather portfolio and removed several laminated designs. “Here is the one I like best,” he told Meghan as he handed her a bright yellow pamphlet. “This is the scheme I was thinking of for the website. The yellows and the cream colors I used reflect the atmosphere of the bakery itself, and I think it allows visitors to the website to gain a sense of what visiting the bakery is like.”
Meghan’s eyes widened as she studied the pamphlet. The design was elegant, but whimsical; with the white, cursive lettering, the tasteful pictures of Meghan’s treats, and the new headshot of Meghan, it looked professional, but personal.
“I love it,” Meghan murmured as she held the pamphlet. “This is exactly what I wanted for the business. The yellow even matches the front door of the bakery. I can’t tell you how much I love it!”
Ron smiled. “I’m happy that you approve,” he said. “Here are the other things. I have drawn up some ideas for a logo, a business card, and a blog that you could update weekly with recipes, events, or news about the bakery.”
Meghan looked through everything, a wide smile on her face as she imagined how much her business would grow with Ron Thomas’ help. “This is more than I could have hoped for,” she assured Ron. “You have gone above and beyond to make my dreams come true. I can’t thank you enough.”
Ron gave Meghan a half-smile. “It’s what I do,” he told her. “I’m glad you are pleased.”
Suddenly, Pamela appeared. She was holding a platter of King Cake, but she nearly dropped it when she saw the designs. “Are these the sketches for the new website?” she cried. “Oh my goodness! These are fantastic! Look at the colors. These logos are just precious. Mr. Thomas, you are so amazing. Could I get an autograph?”
“Pamela,” Trudy hissed as she marched out to the table. “Pamela, Mr. Thomas has been through a loss, and you are not being respectful. Go back to the kitchen.”
Pamela obeyed, and Trudy shook her head. “You should be home with your family,” she gently told Ron. “Family is everything, and I can’t imagine why you are taking a work meeting today.”
Ron shrugged. “As I told Meghan, my family is out of state. I’ll be joining them soon.”
Trudy frowned. “It just seems odd that you could produce this kind of art and design when your sister just died,” she said. “You would think that a heartbroken brother would be grieving at a time like this...not working. It seems odd, indeed…..”
8
That evening, Meghan was happy to find a pleasant text message from Jackie urging her to come over for takeout. Jackie also apologized for being cold and touchy about the pampering event, and Meghan quickly accepted her apology.
As the two women lounged on Jackie’s couch, Meghan smiled.
“I’m really glad we could do this,” Meghan said as she dipped a corn chip into a tiny bowl of queso. “Things have seemed off since that day at the hotel, and I’m glad we could talk it through and hang out.”
Jackie nodded as she sprinkled diced pineapple onto her little taco. “I’m glad too, Meghan. Really, I was just being territorial and stubborn, and admittedly, I was a bit jealous when you got to enjoy the pampering.”
“I know,” Meghan replied as she rolled up a steak taco. “I know. But, now that we are relaxing, let’s only talk about good things. It’s been a stressful week for everyone in Sandy Bay, and we should just enjoy ourselves.”
“I agree,” Jackie said as she reached down to scratch Dash, Jack’s dog, behind the ears. Meghan was looking after Dash while Jack was away, and tonight, Dash, Fiesta, and Siesta were contentedly perched on Jackie’s overstuffed loveseat.
“Ugh, the news,” Meghan complained as the television show they had been watching flashed to the evening news. “Let’s change it; I don’t want to hear about any murders, violence, or bad things.”
Jackie shook her head. “Let’s just listen for a few minutes,” she insisted. “Look! They’re showing the hotel. I bet they are going to talk about Cathy.”
Jackie was right. The news anchor, a statuesque redhead with a blunt bob, stared seriously into the camera as a photograph of Cathy appeared behind her. “Sources close to Ms. Thomas report that she was a close friend of local art phenom, Mariah Cooper.”
The screen flashed to a video of Mariah Cooper leaving the hotel, her eyes bloodshot and her face pale. Reporters shoved microphones into her face, and Mariah shielded herself from the blinding lights.
“Mariah is the most shy celebrity I’ve ever heard of,” Meghan said quietly.
“Shhh, look. There’s Lewis,” Jackie chided Meghan. The screen flashed to Lewis Templeton standing in the lobby of the hotel, his face dark and his clothes still wrinkled.
“Mr. Templeton,” said a reporter offscreen. “Is it true that the Presidential Suite at the Sandy Bay Hotel is only accessible by a special key code?”
Lewis frowned. “Ms. Thomas did not die in my hotel,” he insisted. “She was killed outside of the hotel. Nothing happened in the Presidential Suite, the nicest accommodation offered in Sandy Bay. Nothing happened inside of the hotel, only outside of the hotel. That’s enough questions. Thank you.”
The screen flashed back to the red-headed reporter in the studio, a grim look on her face. “There you have it; Lewis Templeton, the manager of the Sandy Bay Hotel, insists that Ms. Thomas did not die inside of the hotel, but that she was killed outside of the hotel. Moving on to our next story of the night, the Sandy Bay Mugger. Sandy Bay citizens have reported an increase in muggings since the holidays have ended, and police are warning citizens to stay alert as they move about in public.”
“Great,” Jackie groaned. “Between the murderers and muggers on the loose, I think it’s best if I just stay inside my house for the next few months.”
Meghan shrugged. “That sounds like a good idea to me,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do if I met a mugger. I know a few moves from a karate class I took in Los Angeles, but in reality, would that really stop a mugger?”
Jackie laughed. “Wait. You took a karate class in LA? You ha
te exercising!”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone think that? Stand up, Jackie. I’ll show you my best move.”
Jackie obediently rose from the couch, and Meghan wrapped her arms around Jackie’s shoulders. She bent Jackie down, and used her knee to catch Jackie’s foot. “Try to move,” Meghan dared Jackie. “Ninja warrior Meghan Truman has you caught!”
Jackie giggled. “I can’t move,” she reported. “You got me, Truman.”
Meghan loosened her grip on Jackie’s shoulders. “I think that’s the only move I have,” she told her friend. “If something happened to me, I would have to hope that my dogs would be there to keep me safe.”
Jackie nodded. “Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that nothing happens to either of us.”
An hour later, Meghan buttoned up her long red winter coat and bid Jackie a good night. She carefully wound the three dogs into their respective harnesses, and carefully, she balanced a container of leftovers in her right hand.
“Alright, my doggies,” Meghan chirped to Fiesta, Siesta, and Dash. “I’m holding these tacos, so all of you need to be gentle as we walk home! No running around or being rowdy.”
At the street corners, Meghan looked both ways before dashing across to the other side. She shivered as a gust of frigid ocean air hit her face, and she wished she had driven to Jackie’s instead of walking. Fiesta and Siesta yelped with the cold, and Meghan gently bent down to comfort them.
“It’s okay, Fiesta and Siesta,” she told the two shivering dogs. “We’re almost home. Let’s pick up our pace a bit, and we’ll be snuggled up in bed before we know it.”
As Meghan rose to her feet, she sensed the presence of someone behind her. It was dark, and the streetlamp to her right was flickering in the wind. Meghan stood up and looked around, but seeing no one, she continued walking home.
“Come on, dogs,” Meghan whispered as she tugged their leashes tightly. “Let’s move faster.”
Once again, Meghan could sense someone was behind her. She heard footsteps, and she hastened her pace. The footsteps grew louder and louder, but when Meghan glanced behind her, she saw no one.
“What is going on?” Meghan thought to herself as she tugged the leashes. “Am I hearing things?”
Meghan turned around and proceeded, quickening her pace to a jog. She struggled to catch her breath, but when she heard the pounding of footsteps directly behind her, her heart began to thud in her chest. Meghan threw her leftovers to the side, abandoning the takeout box as she pulled on the leashes and began to sprint toward home. The sound of the footsteps became even louder, and Meghan began to scream. As she opened her mouth, an arm shot out of nowhere and covered her face.
“Be quiet,” a voice hissed as Meghan’s eyes bulged. “If you know what’s good for you, you will stay quiet and hand me your purse right now.”
Meghan nodded. She slipped her red purse off of her shoulder, shaking as she struggled to hold the dogs on their leashes. “Please don’t hurt me,” Meghan whispered as she slowly turned around to find a tall man standing before her.
“Just give me the purse, and nothing will happen,” the man growled.
Hit with a sudden burst of anger, Meghan snatched her purse back and held tightly to it. “You can’t just scare me and take my things,” she insisted, stomping her foot as Dash began to bark loudly. “I need my purse, and you can’t have it.”
The man bared his teeth at Meghan, and she could smell his sour breath. It was dark, and she couldn’t make out his features, but she could sense that he was dangerous.
“Stay away from me!” Meghan shouted as the man lunged toward her. She felt her grip on the dogs’ leashes loosen, and Fiesta and Siesta pulled away from her.
“Fiesta! Siesta!” Meghan called out to her dogs. “Stay, doggies! Stay. Don’t run away.”
The man grabbed Meghan’s ankles, and she tumbled to the ground. “Ouch,” she grumbled as she scraped her knee on the icy sidewalk.
“OWWWWW!” shouted Meghan’s attacker. She watched as Dash bit the man’s thigh, drawing blood and tearing his flesh. “Get your dog off of me. Call off the dog.”
“No!” Meghan cried. “Help! Help! This man is attacking me!”
Meghan watched as porch lights began to turn on. She heard a door open behind her. “Who is there?” the resident of the house called out.
“Help! It’s Meghan Truman! I’m being mugged!”
Meghan’s attacker threw Dash off of him and jumped to his feet. Meghan could see the hate in his eyes as he glowered at her, but then, he turned on his heel and ran off into the night.
“Are you okay?” asked an elderly woman from her front porch.
“That man tried to mug me,” Meghan told the woman, her whole body shaking.
“Do you need to call someone?” the woman asked. “A friend? Someone to take you home? My husband called the police, and they should be on their way.”
Meghan could hear the sirens in the distance. Knowing that Jack would soon hear of the incident, Meghan pulled out her phone and dialed his number.
“Meghan?” Jack answered. “I’m in a seminar, Babe. Can I call you back?”
“I was almost mugged, Jack,” Meghan wept, crumpling at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. “A man came out of nowhere and started fighting with me for my purse. He almost took it, but then, I got mad. I tried to fight him off, but he almost got me.”
“Meghan,” Jack muttered. “Are you serious? Are you okay? I’m walking out of my seminar now. Do I need to come home?”
Meghan thought of the man and how terrified she had been, and she wanted nothing more than for Jack to come home. “I miss you, Babe,” Meghan whimpered. “I was so scared.”
“Let me see what I can do,” Jack whispered as the wail of police sirens grew closer to Meghan. “Did you see who the man was? Did you notice any details? Are the police on their way?”
“It’s so dark out here,” Meghan said. “If Dash hadn’t bit him on his leg, he would have run off with my bag.”
“I don’t care about your bag,” Jack said. “I care about you. You should have just let him take it.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” Meghan insisted.
“Well, think hard, Babe. Did you see anything? Any distinguishing features?”
Meghan thought for a moment, and then, she noticed a broken silver bracelet on the ground. She bent down to pick it up, wincing as she felt the large scrape on her knee from where her leg had hit the concrete.
“I think he dropped a bracelet,” Meghan told Jack, examining the trinket. “It’s a silver braided bracelet, and it sure isn’t mine.”
“Show the police,” Jack ordered Meghan as a squad car sidled up to the curb beside her. “Tell them everything you remember. With that Thomas woman being killed, and this mugging epidemic, I want this guy off the streets as soon as possible.”
“I’ll tell them everything I know,” Meghan assured Jack. “I just hope they can catch him soon. I don’t feel safe in Sandy Bay with someone that malicious on the loose.”
9
“Meghan? Are you alright?”
Meghan looked up as Lawrence stepped out of the police car. “Jack,” she said into the phone. “Lawrence just pulled up.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Jack said in relief. “You’re in good hands. Can I talk to him for a second?”
Meghan handed the phone to Lawrence. “It’s Jack,” she explained.”
Lawrence nodded and spoke to Jack, his voice hushed as people began to pour from their houses to see what was going on. “Okay, I will make sure I take her in. Yes, I will ask Chief Nunan for protection for her until you get back. No problem. Talk soon, buddy.”
Lawrence gave the phone back to Meghan. “Lawrence is going to take care of things,” Jack explained to Meghan. “I’m going to try to get home tomorrow, if possible, but for now, Lawrence will make sure you are safe. Go with him to the police station to give your statement.”
“I will,
Babe,” Meghan told Jack. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“I’m just grateful Dash was there to help you,” Jack said. “For now, stick with Lawrence and keep your eyes open. I will be home soon. I love you. I am so sorry this happened.”
“I love you too,” Meghan said softly.
Meghan hung up the phone. She looked down at her leg and gasped; she had blood pouring from the scrape on her knee, and her hands were torn as well.
“We’ll need to fix you up,” Lawrence told Meghan, seeing the horrified look on her face. “Would you prefer to go to the hospital?”
“No,” Meghan said. “Just take me to the station to file the report. I would rather sit in Jack’s familiar office there than in the hospital.”