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Lemon Tart Mystery

Page 3

by Naomi Miller


  She shook her head a little as she continued across the deserted street. For days there had been a thickness in the air between the bakery owner and the cafe owner.

  The two of them cannot even be in the same room together. Not that they have been. It is obvious that they are avoiding each other.

  The situation was a miserable one. Since the tension had begun, Freida had been plotting how she could get involved, trying to find a way to fix whatever must be wrong between the two Englischers she and Katie held most dear.

  But nothing she had tried had made any difference. Mrs. Simpkins either disappeared or hid in her office whenever Mr. O'Neal walked into the bakery.

  Mr. O'Neal had brought flowers, candy—even the most darling little stuffed elephant for their boss over the last few days, but to no avail.

  They most certainly cannot go on this way.

  Katie hoped they would find some way to make amends before the festivities of the holiday began. Aside from the delicious treats Katie had been whipping up all week, there was always a wide array of holiday fare that everyone in town enjoyed before the fireworks show began over the lake at sunset.

  She had been looking forward to it for weeks. As had everyone else in town.

  Katie continued to watch as she finished crossing the street and stepped onto the sidewalk. Mr. O'Neal made no move to go in. He just stood there—talking.

  As she slowly approached him, she realized what she had thought was him talking to himself now sounded more like muttering to himself. Besides, there was no one he could possibly be talking to.

  Unless he is praying. Englischers pray out loud sometimes.

  She knew that to be true because she had heard her freind Anna do it on more than one occasion.

  With that in mind, Katie prepared to slip past Mr. O'Neal into The Sweet Shop, so that she would not disturb him.

  However, when she tried, he stopped her with one word.

  “Katie!”

  “Oh, hello there, Mr. O'Neal.”

  He made no effort to move, but he stopped talking. And he continued to look in through the bakery's front window.

  “Right. Well, I'll just be getting back to work now.”

  “Right!” He answered loudly and shifted his feet a little, but otherwise didn't move or look away from the window.

  Katie opened her mouth, closed it a second later, and then spoke again.

  “Jah.” She stretched the word, more than a little confused by Andrew's odd behavior.

  After another few seconds she moved past him and into The Sweet Shop, looking back at him through the window once she was inside.

  Walking across the customer area, she looked back several times until she reached the counter... coming upon an equally confused-looking Freida.

  “How long has he been standing there like that?”

  Freida answered only with a distracted-sounding “Hmm?”.

  “Freida?”

  “Jah?” She jumped a little as she said it.

  “How long has Mr. O'Neal been standing there like that?”

  “He showed up about five minutes after you left for lunch.”

  “And he has been there the whole time?”

  “Jah, he has. Only, when he first came, he was pacing back and forth a lot. He would walk to one end of the window and look in. Then he would walk to the other end and look in again. He repeated that about every minute for a long time.”

  “And he has not kumme in?”

  “Nee, not once.”

  Katie looked back over at the front window, sparing a glance at all the empty tables between the counter they stood behind and the front door.

  “Has anyone kumme in while he has been at that?”

  “Oh, jah. There have been several customers kumme in. At least two of them stopped and spoke to him too; one on their way in and one after they left.”

  “But still he has not kumme in?”

  “Nee. And I could not exactly go out.” She turned to look at Katie. “Did you ask him what he is doing?”

  “Nee, but I did not realize he has been there for mei entire lunch break. Do you think I should?”

  Freida shrugged, and then said, “Do you think this has something to do with Mrs. Simpkins? They were arguing something fierce the other morning.”

  “It could be, and if it is, then I certainly do not want to be involved.”

  Freida was shaking her head before Katie even finished speaking. “Me either. We have enough to do without getting ourselves involved in a silly argument between two Englischers.”

  Katie answered somewhat distractedly... “Jah, you are right,” but she continued looking out the front window.

  “What is he doing?” Mrs. Simpkins' voice startled both girls.

  Katie let out a squeak of surprise and Freida jumped back quickly, a hand to her chest.

  “Just how long has he been out there, scaring off my customers?” Mrs. Simpkins' voice was harsher than Katie could ever remember hearing it.

  I always thought she liked Mr. O'Neal. For sure and for certain, it does not sound like that now.

  Katie looked over at Freida, who was looking right back at her with a hint of panic in her eyes. Katie shook her head a little, raising her eyebrow at the same time, trying to communicate wordlessly to poor Freida that she hadn't the slightest idea what to do... or say in this situation.

  She thought about mentioning to Mrs. Simpkins that she had only just now returned from her lunch break, but since it was her boss who had sent her in the first place, it seemed silly to say anything.

  “Well...” Mrs. Simpkins looked from Katie to Freida and back again. “Do you know how long he's been out there—or not?”

  When neither maedel answered, she spoke again, sounding more and more impatient with each word.

  “No? Well, I'll just put a stop to this right now. Excuse me girls.” She moved around the two of them, past the end of the counter and then marched through the shop, pushing the front door open... hard.

  Neither Katie nor Freida could understand what Mrs. Simpkins or Mr. O'Neal said, but it was obvious to them both that Andrew started out calm enough.

  Of course, after Amelia yelled at him for a minute or two, his calm visibly started to fade—and it wasn't long after that the girls could hear both voices raised.

  “It's like a train wreck.”

  Katie looked away from the scene for a moment to peer quizzically at her freind. “Whatever do you mean by that, Freida?”

  “Isn't that what the Englischers say?”

  “Yes, I suppose I've heard the Englischers say that before, but what does one thing have to do with the other?”

  “It's just that this is something you know you shouldn't watch—like a train accident. And it's certainly not something you should enjoy watching, but you just can't seem to tear your attention away.”

  “Ah, yes. I see what you mean.” Katie's voice trailed off as the couple standing outside the front window moved closer together.

  Their boss was nearly toe to toe with the cafe owner now and both still looked... and sounded... to be shouting.

  “Tis a puzzle indeed what's got into the both of them.”

  “Jah.” Katie answered absently, adding after a moment, “You know I do believe this is the first time I have ever heard Mrs. Simpkins raise her voice for more than a word or two.”

  “For sure and for certain.”

  Both girls jumped when Mrs. Simpkins turned unexpectedly, pushing through the front door and moving purposely across the customer area.

  Katie made a show of checking the rows of treats in the display case closest to her and Freida grabbed up a damp cloth and started wiping down the long counter in front of her.

  Their usually sweet and soft-spoken boss said nothing to either girl as she moved around the front counter area, and then pushed through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen area.

  Katie turned to Freida, whose widened eyes and shocked expression certainly mirror
ed her own. For a solid minute, neither of them moved, waiting to see if the storm was over—or not.

  Just as Katie turned to go into the kitchen, the swinging doors opened and Mrs. Simpkins walked through them again.

  “I apologize for that ugly scene, girls. I simply do not know what has gotten into me lately.”

  Katie started to speak, but Mrs. Simpkins held up a hand to stop her.

  “I know I can trust you girls not to spread rumors all over town, but I'm certain some of our neighbors will not be quite so close-lipped.” She took a deep breath before going on... and that was when Katie realized that there was a purse strap over her shoulder.

  “I am going to go home and relax. Why don't you girls lock up a bit early and go on home as well. I'll pay you for the rest of the day. I'm just not certain if you want to hang about and deal with the gossips.”

  “You two can go on home if you want, but I think I had better stay. Travis is coming by in about three hours to pick up the Mayor's cake.”

  “Oh, I had forgotten completely about that.”

  Freida spoke up then. “I can stay, too. No one is expecting me home anytime soon—and this way we can just stay open.”

  “Jah, and mayhaps we can head off some of the gossip while we are at it.”

  “That is very kind of you girls, but you don't have to worry about that.” She stopped talking, and looked around the shop absently for a moment before going on.

  “Three hours from now is still a bit early. Just you go ahead and close up when Travis gets here. That way you both still get a bit of a break.”

  “Jah, we'll do just that.” Katie answered quickly, trying to put her boss's mind at ease.

  * * *

  Travis walked in the front door a full twenty minutes before Katie expected him and he wasted no time in asking Katie about the afternoon. “Is it true what I'm hearing all over town—that Mrs. Simpkins and Mr. O'Neal got into a fight right out front?”

  Katie immediately shushed him and turned, going back into the kitchen by way of the swinging doors. Travis followed a moment later, curiosity on his handsome features.

  “Has Mrs. Simpkins left for the day?”

  “Jah, she left earlier than usual today—and she told us to close the bakery after you came by to pick up the Mayor's cake.”

  “Is it safe to talk, then? Come on, Katie, you have to tell me what's going on.” Travis looked as puzzled as Katie felt.

  “I don't really know anything, except that Mr. O'Neal had been standing around outside the bakery and when Mrs. Simpkins noticed him, she went out and after a few minutes, they began shouting at one another.” Katie looked a bit uneasy talking about it.

  “When he left, Mrs. Simpkins came back inside, but she didn't say anything about it, except to apologize for the disruption and to say she was going home early.”

  “Oh, man. That doesn't sound good. I was sure they were dating—or in some sort of relationship. It sounds like they've broken up now, doesn't it?”

  “Travis, do you think it could be that serious? Katie was close to tears. “Anyone could see that Mr. O'Neal has been trying to court Mrs. Simpkins for some time. I cannot think what could have happened to upset her so.”

  She looked up at Travis, waiting for him to speak. He stepped closer before answering, putting a hand on each of her shoulders and squeezing gently.

  “I haven't heard anything from any of our customers when I've made deliveries. I had no idea anything was wrong—until this afternoon.”

  Then he pulled her close for a hug. “Don't worry, Katie. I'm sure they'll work it out. They're perfect for each other.”

  Much too soon—and with more than a little reluctance—Katie forced herself to pull away. After quickly swiping at her eyes, she smiled at him.

  “I am certain you are right. And now you must get going. You do not want to be late delivering the Mayor's cake.”

  “Right. Well, then I guess I'll see you later.”

  After Travis left, Katie and Freida turned off the lights and locked the door, before heading to their homes.

  — SIX —

  Monday morning, Katie hesitated as she reached to unlock the door of The Sweet Shop. She looked around, taking in the scenery around her.

  Nothing was amiss... and she didn’t expect to find anything. But for the past few days, she had felt out of sorts, even nervous, when she reached the bakery.

  The first time it had happened, she wasn’t sure what to think, especially when she stepped inside the bakery and found nothing out of place. It had looked just the same as it had when she left it the day before.

  Katie hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. Then it had happened again the next morning... and the next... and again today.

  What is happening to me? Could this have anything to do with what happened last July?

  Though everything had worked out the previous July, when there had been a break-in at the bakery. Katie had been the first to discover the disaster that had been left behind by the young thieves. Freida, one of her co-workers, had arrived moments later to find the door locked—and Katie standing just inside the doorway, looking around at the mess.

  The girls had run across the street to The Coffee Cup, where Katie had called Mrs. Simpkins, the owner of the bakery. Then she and Freida had waited for Mrs. Simpkins to arrive with a police officer.

  Could I still be worrying over that?

  Katie thought over it while she went about her usual morning routine.

  Finding the mess, not knowing what had happened, or if there was someone still inside the bakery who might have harmed her or Freida, had been a difficult enough thing that day, but the rushing around for that entire day trying to bake replacements for everything that had been destroyed or stolen was what Katie remembered most.

  Nee, that was almost a year ago. I’ve hardly ever thought of it. Besides which, it all turned out to be a gut thing.

  While out making deliveries, Katie had inadvertently discovered a clue to the mystery and the reason behind it. Soon the entire community had become involved in helping a family in need.

  Katie had become freinden with the children in the Davis family, especially Travis, Gwen, and young Bobby. Travis still worked part-time at the bakery, and Mrs. Simpkins had told Gwen there would be a place there for her soon.

  And Mrs. Davis is recovering nicely and able to do more around the house, making it possible for Gwen to work outside the home. Which is a very gut thing indeed.

  Dear Gott, I don’t know what is causing me to be naerfich about this now. Why do I worry that something bad will happen? I am ashamed that I did not ask for help the first time I felt this way. I know you have control over all. I ask you to please take this from me. Help me to put mei trust in you and to not be afraid for nothing. Help me to find mei joy again. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

  * * *

  An hour or so later, Katie looked up from her mixing at the sound of the back door opening. She was surprised to see her boss arriving so early, but she was especially surprised—and curious—at the sour expression on Amelia Simpkins' usually sweet features.

  “Good morning.”

  The curt response was so very unlike her normally chatty boss, Katie could not help but worry... and wonder at what was really going on with her, but she schooled her features to be pleasant, making certain there was nothing her boss could find objectionable.

  “Gudemariye, Mrs. Simpkins. How are you this fine morning?” Katie waited, but no reply came. Mrs. Simpkins went directly into her office without another word.

  Katie went back to work, sending up a silent prayer that whatever was bothering her wunderbaar employer, Gott would help her through it.

  After several minutes, Katie went back to humming quietly while she worked. Once a dozen loaves of bread were baking, she mixed the batter for peanut butter cookies, enjoying the delicious aromas floating around the kitchen.

  * * *

  Freida walked in a few minutes before her shift was t
o start.

  “Gudemariye, Katie.”

  “Gudemariye, Freida. How are you this morning?” Katie looked up at her freind, but did not stop stirring the batter she was preparing.

  “I am gut. And you?”

  “Gut, jah.” Katie answered, then she motioned silently to the office where their boss had been since she arrived, widening her eyes in an attempt to let Freida know that something odd was going on.

  When Freida looked questioningly at Katie, she mouthed the word “later” to her freind. Fortunately, Freida picked up on Katie's meaning right away. Otherwise, she might have asked something about the fight they had both witnessed the day before and Katie was not at all certain how Mrs. Simpkins—if she heard them talking—would take such a thing.

  Freida nodded and went about the business of opening up. The next thirty minutes were busy ones while she helped to fill the shelves with fresh breads and desserts that Katie had been baking this morning for customers.

  Then she wiped down the tables and made certain everything was ready for customers before unlocking the front door and turning the sign around to show that the bakery was open and ready for business.

  * * *

  Five minutes before the bakery opened, Mrs. Simpkins walked out of the office. She looked much more her usual self, smiling widely, eyes bright and full of excitement.

  “You know, that internet is really something. Katie, have you used the internet much?”

  Surprised by the sudden change, more than the actual question, Katie could only shake her head.

  To which Mrs. Simpkins waved a hand in dismissal. “Silly question. Sorry. Where is my head today?” She turned to go back into her office, but whirled back to face Katie, adding. “You know, you are on that running around time now, right?”

  Katie nodded her head, uncertain where her boss was going with her question.

  “Then you could use it without getting in trouble. And you're welcome to use the computer here anytime you need to—or if you just want to.”

  “So, what about the internet has you so excited, Mrs. Simpkins?”

 

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