by K. J. Emrick
So why couldn’t she fix her life so easily?
She mixed together what she needed and tasted the batter. Perfect. Pouring it into the shallow cups of the greased cupcake pan, she slid the whole tray into the preheated oven. Then she stood back, and took a breath.
There was no doubt about her skills in the kitchen. She was a magician. Making common items into uncommonly good confections. Until Julien died, no one had ever complained about her baking. No one.
People still came to buy her goods all the way from other towns. She had a great reputation. All of that, put into a shambles by a murder.
Remembering that made the selling of the business hurt that much more. Tears began to stream down her face again. She wiped at them with the hem of her white apron, not even caring that she probably had flour on her face now.
Enough of that. She still had to clean her kitchen. She put soapy water in the sink, then threw everything in there that she could.
When she was done, she went upstairs to her apartment. Clarissa’s door was closed, but Cream met her with an enthusiastic panting while jumping from paw to paw. She reached down and patted his head, scratching at his ears. “Well. I’ve made my decision, Cream. You aren’t going to like it.”
Cream followed her into her room, jumping up on the bed with a little difficulty. Cookie wasn’t the only one starting to show her age. He came over to where she sat, hands in her lap, and curled up with his body against hers.
“You are the best thing I have in my life, Cream. Always there for me.”
He huffed his agreement, and let her scratch around his chin.
Tears continued to stream down her face. Her heart ached. Her body was heavy with grief. She’d never felt this low. She’d been moving merrily along in her life, doing what she loved. She’d been so sure that nothing in her life would change. She hadn’t wanted anything to change. Well. Except for maybe to have Jerry notice her. A little romance would have been a nice addition to the mix. She should have known better. He was a handsome man and out of her league. These things never worked out for her.
“Oh, Cream. What will we do without this place?”
He yawned and snuggled closer to her. That was all the advice he had for her. She smiled down at him. He was the single bright spot in her day. In her life, for that matter.
That made her think of something that perked her up a little.
“I still have you, don’t I, my friend? I have Clarissa and I have Madison. I still have my family, all of you, and doesn’t that make me rich.”
Speaking of family, she hadn’t heard Clarissa stir at all since she’d been home. Teenagers took naps during the day, didn’t they?
With a heavy sigh, tucking her depression back into the dark pocket it came from, Cookie went to check on her granddaughter.
“Clarissa?”
She knocked on the bedroom door. When there was no answer she opened the door, quietly, but Clarissa was not in her bed. Or the room. Clarissa wasn’t there.
Panic began to creep up inside of her. Not downstairs, not up here… then where? She scanned the bed and the desk in Clarissa’s room, and then the dining table, and even the refrigerator. There was no note. Nothing to give her a hint about where the girl had gone.
Then a horrible, terrible idea struck Cookie. What if the killer had come back for Cookie, but found Clarissa instead?
Now she rushed downstairs, Cream hot on her heels. What should she do? Call the police. No. Check around the town. Wait. Clarissa had a cell phone. What was the number again?
The buzzer on the oven went off, startling her. Cookie jumped and knocked over a stack of metal mixing bowls.
Shaking her head, feeling foolish, she took out the cupcakes she had started earlier. They smelled delicious, and at the moment she couldn’t care less. She turned the stove off and set the cupcakes aside to cool then grabbed her cell phone from her purse. She didn’t have time to be distracted.
She dialed Clarissa’s number, but the call went straight to voicemail. Just in case, she tapped out a simple text message asking for a call back.
Cream followed her as she paced in the kitchen, wringing her hands. Finally, she knew what she had to do. She just didn’t like it.
Scrolling through her contacts list again, she found Jerry’s name. Her finger hesitated over the number. Then she straightened her back, and pressed the green dial button.
“Hi, Cookie,” he answered, in a voice that was so pleasant and happy that she wanted to reach through the phone and slap him. “Hey, I get off duty in a couple of hours. Would you maybe want to—”
“I can’t find my granddaughter,” Cookie cut him off.
“Clarissa? She’s not in your apartment?”
“I’m not an idiot, Jerry. I checked the apartment. She isn’t there.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, “nobody said you were an idiot.”
No, Cookie thought, you’re just treating me like one.
“When did you see her last?” Jerry asked. In the background she could hear the sounds of him getting into his car.
“I saw her this morning, before I went… out.”
“All right. I’m coming over.” The door slammed on his end, and an engine started. “I’ll keep an eye out for her on the way but is there anywhere you think she might have gone?”
“She doesn’t really know anyone here.” A tremble came into her voice. “Jerry, I’m worried that Sw… someone has taken her.” Cookie quickly corrected herself when she realized she’d nearly let slip that she’d confronted Sweeney. Jerry would be mad at her if he knew about that.
“Just stay there,” he told her. “I’m on my way.”
Cookie ended the call and paced some more. It probably only took him two minutes to get there, but in those two minutes she worried enough for two lifetimes.
He didn’t knock. He just came in through the front door with its plastic sheet still in place, looking just like he had at Jamie’s house, and it nearly took her breath away until she remembered what she had seen this morning. Jamie, all over him, and Jerry standing there, taking it like he was enjoying himself.
When he reached for her, she stepped away from him.
“Cookie,” he said, watching her with an odd expression. “It’s all right. I’m here now.”
“I can’t find her. I went out for a walk.” She stared at him, waiting for him to admit that he knew where she was, that he and Jamie had seen her there in Jamie’s house. He didn’t say anything, so she decided she didn’t have to say anything, either. “When I came back, she wasn’t here.”
“There’s a function at the community center right now. A dance. Could she be there?”
“I told you. She doesn’t know anyone.”
“You’d be surprised how quick teens make friends. There hasn’t been anyone she’s met in town? No boys hanging around?”
“No, of course not. What kind of grandmother do you think I am? You think I’d just let a bunch of boys I don’t know parade through my home? Think I’d just dangle my granddaughter out there and see who shows up?”
Jerry blinked. “Cookie, look, I know you’re upset.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” she snapped, unable to keep a rein on her emotions any longer. “You don’t even know why I’m upset!”
He settled his hands on his duty belt. “Well, let’s see. Your business is in danger. A man was killed in your store, and now half the town thinks you had something to do with it. Mister Roth keeps pushing you to sell your store. What else? Oh, right. Your granddaughter, who you promised to look after, is missing. I just about sum it up?”
She turned away from him because she didn’t want him to see the expression on her face. How dare he be so understanding? What gave him the right to know her so well, and try to be so comforting, when all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him and cry until her troubles went away!
Her fists pounded against her thighs. Men.
This one man, in particular
.
“You sure there isn’t something you left off that list?” she demanded, keeping her back to him.
If she was expecting him to finally break down and admit that he’d been secretly seeing Jamie while expressing his growing feelings for her, she was disappointed. The silence between them was broken when he put his hands on her shoulders. His hands were warm, and big, and comfortable.
Damn him.
“Cookie,” he said, “you’re going through a lot right now. I understand that. Just, please know that I’m here for you. All right?”
“I’ll bet that’s what you say to all the girls.”
She meant for her words to sting and hurt. Instead, she heard his soft chuckle.
“No. Just you.”
His thumbs began working circles just above her shoulder blades, where she’d been carrying so much tension, and although everything in her screamed at her to tell him to stop, she liked the way this felt. Right now, in this moment, she would take his comfort. She needed it. She needed a strong man in her life to make everything all right…
No. No, she did not. She most certainly did not.
Reluctantly she tugged herself away from his touch and went to a table, taking a seat that faced him. “That will be enough of that, thank you. I need to find my granddaughter.”
“Uh, right. Sure.” He cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot. He looked confused, but Cookie wasn’t going to explain it to him and let him off the hook. Let him twist for a while. “So. Uh, did you try her cell phone?”
“Of course I tried her cell phone. It went right to voicemail.”
“Has she been talking with anyone while she’s been here?”
Cookie thought about it. “Well, she was using my computer. She might have been talking with her friend’s back home.”
He nodded, looking above them, to where the apartment was. “Think I could get a look at her e-mails?”
“No.” Cookie shook her head reluctantly. “She keeps that under a password. I noticed that when I got on the computer after she was using it.”
“And you’re sure that she hasn’t been talking to anyone while she’s been here? No one’s been coming around the bakery at all?”
“No, Jerry, I told you…”
They both looked at each other, remembering something at the same time.
There had been someone hanging around the bakery. The shadowy figure who showed up right after Clarissa came to town. The one who liked looking in the windows but would never stay around to let Cookie get a glimpse of his face.
Oh, no.
“Jerry, what if someone kidnapped her? What if somebody took her right out from under this roof?”
She couldn’t bear the thought of it. The man, lurking around the bakery, waiting to strike, biding his time until he could sneak in and drag her away to do unspeakably evil things to her…
When she looked up again, through her tears, she found Jerry kneeling in front of her. His hand was on her knee. His eyes were deep with concern.
“We’ll find her,” he said. “I promise you, we’ll find her. It’s probably not what we’re both thinking. I don’t know. But I’m going back to the police station, right now, to start a report and get people searching for her. All right? We’ll find her.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. All of her hope had been spent up. There was nothing left for this. Her granddaughter was gone, and she felt like it was her fault for bringing Clarissa here to Widow’s Rest in the first place.
Everything was her fault. All of it. When the recipe turned out wrong, the only one to blame was the cook.
Jerry kissed her cheek, and she was so distracted by her own dark inner thoughts that she hardly noticed. He left, talking on his portable radio the whole way out.
Leaving Cookie alone.
She sat there, hoping the world would just give up on her like she’d given up on the world, when she heard the little scritch-scratch of Cream’s nails on the floor as he padded his way over to her. Sitting at her feet, he looked up at her, cocking his furry head to one side, asking her what was wrong in that language that only he and Cookie understood.
He made her smile in spite of herself. Reaching down she scooped her little friend up and put him in her lap, stroking his back and scratching behind his ears. “You’re a good friend, Cream. More than that. You’re my family.”
Nothing was more important than family.
So how could she just sit here when Clarissa was missing? She couldn’t, was the answer. She had to go out and at least look for her granddaughter.
The problem was, she didn’t know where to begin.
Clarissa hadn’t been in town long enough to make friends. Or enemies either, for that matter. The girl had her bratty side but she really just wanted to be loved. Cookie could understand that. Clarissa just wanted to know she mattered, to be loved, to spend time with her friends, just like every teenager wanted.
Just like every teenager.
Now, that was a thought. What was it that Jerry had said? There was a dance down at the community center. There were a few dozen teenagers who lived in Widow’s Rest. During the summer months, the town put on different things for them to do. Everyone thought it kept them busy and out of trouble. Cookie remembered back to her teenage years, and it really didn’t matter if she was at a dance or a car wash or whatever, she could always find some way to have fun that her parents wouldn’t have necessarily approved of.
Now there was a dance down at the community center.
Cookie knew she wouldn’t be able to put her mind to rest until she went down there and checked for herself. She could ask Jerry to go do it, or send another officer down, but most of the officers wouldn’t even recognize Clarissa if they did see her. And Jerry was back at the station by now organizing a real search. She didn’t want to interrupt that.
No. It was up to her. She could at least do this small thing for Clarissa. She could say she tried.
Before she left, she tried Clarissa’s cell phone again, only to have it once more go to voicemail. She prayed that the girl was all right, wherever she was.
Because if she wasn’t in trouble, she was definitely going to be in trouble when Cookie found her.
“Watch the store,” she told Cream as she picked up her car keys again. “I’ll be back as soon as I know something.”
His bark was followed by a little growl. Her big tough defender, doing his part.
***
When she finally reached the community center the parking lot was full of cars, and she had to park up along the street. It was nearly six o’clock now. The dance would have just started, and already there were so many people here! The community center was a good sized building, made of brick and fancy woodwork, and there was a huge multipurpose room inside, but even so Cookie doubted there would be enough room for everyone. Which meant there would be a lot of teens outside, hanging around the tree line, pretending they were alone and that no one could see what they were up to.
Yes. Cookie definitely remembered her teenage years.
She decided to walk around outside first, to see who might be out here. She checked every face she passed. Several of them watched her closely, wondering if the grownup was going to make them stop kissing or flirting in the bushes. She wanted to take all of them by their ears and drag them back home to their parents, or make them move along with some carefully worded sarcasm, but she didn’t have the time.
None of the girls were Clarissa. She went around the entire building, then with a heavy sigh she went inside. It was looking more and more like her granddaughter wasn’t here.
Of course not. This was a fool’s errand. Like Clarissa would just go off to a dance with people she didn’t know, not leave a note, not answer her cell phone… something was seriously wrong, and if Jerry didn’t find the girl then Cookie didn’t know what she was going to do!
All of her anger, all of her fear, all of her every emotion shriveled up into a knot inside her chest a
s she pushed inside of the double doors at the entry and stepped into the main hall.
There was Clarissa.
She was holding a clear plastic cup of soda, dressed in ripped jeans and a top that was way, way, way too tight, her long red hair done up in curls and waves. The girl must have started getting ready for this the instant Cookie left for Jamie’s house this morning!
Relief warred with the need to wring Clarissa’s neck. The scales tipped when she saw Clarissa reach up to hug a boy standing next to her.
He was a young man, probably not any older than Clarissa. Cookie didn’t remember ever seeing him before. He wasn’t from Widow’s Rest, that much she knew. His messy dark hair and hard jaw would’ve been hard to miss. Dark jeans. Blue t-shirt. Long dark coat. He looked dangerous, in Cookie’s estimation.
And she could tell this was the same boy who had been hanging around her shop.
So, he hadn’t kidnapped Clarissa. But he had taken her away from Cookie’s home without Cookie’s permission or consent. That was almost as bad.
Some kids passed by Cookie, ignoring her as they went up the hall to the main room where the dance music roared loud and heavy. She called out to her granddaughter, but the noise drowned out her voice.
The boy’s arm snaked around Clarissa’s back.
Oh, Hell no.
She started to march up the hall just as Clarissa stretched up on her toes and kissed the boy. Slowly. On the lips.
“Clarissa!” she practically yelled. The girl had the good sense to snap around at the sound of her name, her face turning almost as red as her hair. The guy she was with stepped back, stuffing his hands into his pockets, trying to look innocent.
“Oh, it’s way too late for that!” Cookie told him. “You get away from her. She’s my granddaughter.”
“Gram, wait,” Clarissa said. “You don’t understand.”
“Understand? What’s to understand?” Cookie was aware they were turning heads their way, but she didn’t care. “You’re here, where you shouldn’t be, with him, a boy I don’t know. Did I miss anything?”