“The sooner you call the police back, the better.”
“I know,” he said miserably. “I’ll call them after I talk to my attorney. I promise.”
They landed ten minutes later and parted with a handshake that Sadie turned into a hug. Everyone needed a hug now and then, and Ethan looked truly tormented. What she’d learned felt heavy to Sadie, who didn’t know Ethan’s assistants, but knowing that he cared for them increased her sympathy for the burden he carried.
Before stepping back into her work at the booth, Sadie ducked into the trailer and called Marcus, but ended up leaving him a message recapping her conversation with Ethan. She was following her own advice by being completely up front with everything she learned. After she hung up, she tried to push away the difficult discoveries of the day before returning to the booth, nearly running into Caro at the bottom of the trailer steps as she did so.
“Sorry,” Sadie said, stepping to the side so that Caro could pass her by.
“I’m getting more cookies,” Caro said by way of explanation, not that Sadie needed one. “It’s going to get busy soon.”
“Okay,” Sadie said. How long had Caro been standing there? Could she have heard Sadie leaving the message for Marcus? She thought back to the comment Caro had made Wednesday night about investigating things herself, and she felt another burden of responsibility descend upon her weary shoulders.
“Caro?” she said.
Caro turned at the top of the stairs, her expression unreadable. “What?” Her tone was defensive and cold enough to convince Sadie not to make any accusation that would make things even worse between them.
“Uh, you look nice today.”
Caro seemed startled by the comment. “Thank you,” she said politely before entering the trailer.
“You’re welcome,” Sadie said to no one but herself before returning to the front and praying that the increasing crowds would distract her from her thoughts. She told herself she couldn’t change what had happened to Ethan Standage or his assistants. She’d given him the best advice she had, but it was a poor balm for her heart that ached for the families of Teodor and Raphael.
Cupcakes, she told herself as she greeted a customer. Focus on the cupcakes. If only it were that easy.
Chapter 27
Inez returned from Santa Fe with an air-conditioned carload of cupcakes around three thirty—just in time. Sadie helped her unload the cupcakes to the freezers, then got swept into the early-dinner rush. At five o’clock, Molly, another of Lois’s employees, showed up to help for the rest of the evening, and Lois told Sadie that she was free to go and enjoy the Fiesta.
“You’re sure you don’t need me?”
“I’m sure,” Lois said, waving her away with a smile. “This is your first Fiesta. Go be a part of it.”
Sadie couldn’t deny how much she wanted to see the entirety of the festival. “What time do you need me tomorrow?”
“Is eleven too early?”
“Seven isn’t too early,” Sadie countered. “I have nothing else to do.”
“Well, in that case, if you could come at nine, that would be wonderful. I just don’t want to take your entire morning.”
“I’m giving you my morning,” Sadie said. She cast a look at Caro and wondered if she would be working tomorrow as well and if the awkwardness between the two of them was the real reason Lois was encouraging Sadie to leave. Caro seemed to know Sadie was watching her and pointedly turned away, rearranging the cookie platter.
Sadie retrieved her purse and phone from the trailer moments before Lois practically pushed her out of the booth with two Biscochitos cookies—the official cookie of New Mexico—and a cup of hot cocoa. There was no arguing with Lois, and so with a promise to be back tomorrow morning, Sadie left and enjoyed the dinner that was sure to give her a sugar-induced headache. It was delicious, though.
Once her hands were empty, she called Pete. He’d be leaving for Albuquerque first thing in the morning, and his excitement to see the balloons made Sadie smile; he’d been coming to the Fiesta since it had been a few taco stands and two dozen balloons lifting off from a park in Albuquerque.
Sadie sat on one of the bleachers and told him about her conversation with Ethan, inviting back all the mournful feelings she had successfully pushed away while she’d been working at the booth.
“Marcus hasn’t called me back yet,” Sadie said when she finished her explanation.
“He might not ever call you back. You’re not a member of the investigative team. But you did the right thing passing on what you know.”
“I know that,” Sadie said, looking up at the sky and wondering when the balloons would come back. There was an evening event in less than two hours, but even the balloons that had been giving rides had disappeared. “It’s just that every time I learn something new, I feel that pull to dig into the story again, and I have to start all over with the separation.” She let out a breath. “It’s a difficult balance.”
Pete commiserated with her, reminded her that she’d done the right thing and that he’d be there soon to distract her. That sounded wonderful. They spoke for a few more minutes about Caro’s coldness and Pete’s training, which had gone very well despite him going AWOL for the Tuesday classes. Finally, Pete admitted to having some things to do before he left in the morning, and they said good night.
A beautiful sunset was turning the underbelly of the clouds dusty shades of pink and orange, and attendees were beginning to move out onto the big, grassy arena at the center of the park.
There were a few vans and trucks scattered along the field, and as the sun set, more vehicles drove out. Sadie thought it would be hard for the balloons to land with all these vehicles out there, but soon the van doors opened and the tailgates came down, revealing balloon baskets and large rolls of bright fabric. Apparently some balloons would be inflated right now. Cool. Sadie followed the crowds somewhat blindly, not sure where everyone was going but not wanting to miss it. She searched the sky again and frowned—not a balloon in sight.
The sun was almost gone when she looked across the field to see a bright splash of purple and blue begin to billow up from the ground. She turned the other direction where a green-and-black bubble was growing larger on the other end of the field, and she realized she’d been completely off base. The balloons must have come back from their mass ascension earlier in the day rather than float around the valley all day as she’d assumed. The balloonists were now reinflating them, but would they take off again for an after-dark show? Could balloons fly at night?
To her immediate left, a red, white, and blue mound rose up from the ground, the silky fabric shifting and rippling in the breeze that had picked up as the sun went down. She continued moving closer to the center of the field and then stopped and slowly turned in order to take it all in. Hot air balloons blossomed in every direction. Yellow, pink, white, orange. The sight nearly took her breath away.
“Step left! Step left!” a man shouted.
Sadie startled, but followed his instructions and stepped left moments before a long snake of nylon rolled right where she’d been standing. She traced the fabric back to a basket nearly thirty yards away from her. A woman was attaching the limp balloon to fixtures on the edge of the basket.
Sadie continued walking backward in order to get out of the way, only to have someone grab her arm to stop her. She looked up just as another long bundle rolled out a few feet behind her. The man who’d kept her from stepping into the balloon’s path nodded to her as he let go of her arm. He tipped his cowboy hat in her direction before continuing across the field, which was becoming more and more colorful by the moment.
Sadie didn’t even think to say thank you until he was too far away to have heard her, so she thought it instead and hoped it would still count. Did he look familiar? she asked herself, then shook it off. Was it so hard for her to be uninvolved that she was making up things to worry about? She thought back to her paranoia at the café that morning, when s
he’d thought the man on the corner was watching her. Ridiculous.
She spared only another moment on the cowboy before her attention was taken over by the balloons now on either side of her. Teams hooked fans to the basket end of their balloons. The fabric seemed dainty as the air stretched it toward the pale pink moon, which was just rising from the eastern end of the valley. Within two minutes, both billowing mounds stood taller than she was.
Other balloons across the field were fully inflated now, dozens of colorful droplets standing stark against the graying sky. A roaring whoosh sounded from behind her, and she turned to see a patchwork-designed balloon twenty yards away light up like a lightbulb; Sadie marveled that the silken fabric didn’t catch on fire. The baskets were held to the ground by teams of men and women in orange vests pulling on ropes as the balloons attempted to rise. Burners would roar intermittently, lighting the balloons and making the seams stand out against the glowing interior. The sky got darker, but with more and more balloons lighting up, the view across the field was staggering. Oh, Pete, I wish I were watching this with you!
It wasn’t until the two balloons nearest to her were fully inflated that she spotted Ethan’s balloon on the west end of the field. Sadie hesitated, but then started walking toward it. Pete had told her not to expect an update from Marcus, but she could at least ask Ethan if he’d talked to the police yet—assuming he was here and not in Santa Fe this very minute. Each time a burner lit up, however, she stopped and felt the awe all over again.
The announcers began bantering over the loudspeakers, talking about the history of the Fiesta and how many balloons were on the field tonight—almost two hundred. Sadie walked faster, trying to keep the Standage balloon in sight. There was a white balloon with pink and purple flowers on it. Another balloon was shaped like a beer bottle, and yet another like a teapot. The Spider-pig balloon—a pig in a Spider-Man costume—had been one of the first ones fully inflated tonight; it was a real crowd-pleaser.
Burners still roared here and there across the park, producing enough hot air to keep the balloon shapes intact. She missed what the announcers said before they began counting down from ten. The crowd began to chant with them, and Sadie stopped walking, not wanting to miss whatever the countdown was leading up to. At the count of “One,” balloons across the field roared together as burners engaged and two hundred hot air balloons glowed from their self-contained firelight.
A cheer erupted from the crowd as people clapped and whistled at the first “All Burn” of the Fiesta. Sadie couldn’t help but clap as well. It was truly a magnificent sight, and Sadie’s chest tingled with delightful excitement at beholding something so unique. How had she never attended this event before now?
Families had brought lawn chairs, and huge groups of people clustered in the open spaces, leaving only ten to fifteen feet between the spectators and balloonists. The men and women in or near the baskets, or holding the cords that kept the balloons from swaying too much in the breeze, looked serious and intent. Ballooning might be a hobby for these people, but it wasn’t one they took lightly.
The wind was picking up, and the chase crews responsible for holding the ropes were struggling to keep some of the balloons upright. One chaser, a boy of about fifteen, was lifted completely off his feet when a gust of wind caught the wall of his balloon, pulling it hard. There was shouting and calling back and forth between the balloon teams. One man called out that he was taking his down, then another voice several yards away said the same thing about another balloon. Was it ending already? Would Standage take down his balloon before she got there? Sadie turned around and bumped into a man’s chest.
“Ooph,” she said, hurrying to step back. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She caught sight of Standage’s balloon over the man’s shoulder before making eye contact, only to realize that of the thousands of people in the park, she’d run into the same man who’d prevented her from walking into the uninflated balloon fifteen minutes earlier. Could it be a coincidence that she’d run into him—literally—again?
Sadie didn’t believe in coincidences.
The man in the cowboy hat smiled at Sadie in what she assumed was supposed to be a kind way before stepping out of her way without saying a word . . . again.
Sadie moved past him without saying thank you and refused to look over her shoulder to get a last glance at him. Instead, she picked up her pace in pursuit of her reason for being here—Ethan Standage. The Cowboy’s presence rattled her however, and she thought more about the first time she’d encountered him. She thought she’d seen him before tonight. But where? When? Was he following her?
The big, yellow Standage balloon seemed to be straight ahead. It was on the edge of the field, close to many other balloons, but not as surrounded by the crowds that seemed to have amassed in the center of the field. She rounded a large family that was sitting, like everyone else, in the middle of the field, then moved around a mostly-inflated blue balloon with the name of a realty company emblazoned on it.
She heard the announcers begin another countdown. There must have been fewer speakers on this end of the field, because the voices weren’t as loud, and though she was tempted to stop and enjoy the spectacular display of another All Burn, she was close enough to Standage’s balloon that she didn’t dare risk losing her momentum. As strange as it seemed, with her disconcerting thoughts about the Cowboy, Standage’s balloon felt like a safe zone.
“Five!”
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
Moments before the crowd shouted the last number, she felt something press into her back. A hand snaked around her stomach and grabbed her wrist, causing her to freeze.
“One!”
The roar of two hundred burners filled the air; Standage’s balloon, only a dozen yards away, lit up as well.
A man’s voice spoke in her ear. “Keep walking. If you stop before I tell you to, this knife will go clean through your ribs, puncture a lung, and you’ll bleed to death before anyone knows what’s happened.”
Biscochitos
1 cup shortening—butter flavor works well
1 cup sugar, divided ¾ cup and ¼ cup
1 egg
3 cups flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons anise seed, crushed or ground (or 1 teaspoon anise extract)
3 tablespoons brandy or apple juice
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream shortening and ¾ cup sugar together. Add egg. Mix well, then add flour, salt, baking powder, and anise seed. Mix well. Add brandy or apple juice and mix well. Dough will be a little crumbly, so add more liquid if needed and press together with hands. Combine ¼ cup sugar and cinnamon.
Roll dough out to ½-inch thickness and cut with cookie cutters. (Fleur-de-lis is the traditional shape.) Dust with sugar and cinnamon mixture. Place cookies 2 inches apart on cookie sheet.
Bake for 10 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on pan 2 minutes before removing to cooling rack.
Makes about 2 dozen 2-inch cookies.
Chapter 28
Though a momentary fear washed over her, a split-second later Sadie imagined herself twisting to the side and grabbing the man’s hand that was holding the knife against her back. She’d done that move a hundred times in her self-defense classes.
“Try anything at all and Margo dies,” the man said in a gruff whisper before she executed the move.
Sadie froze. “Margo?” she said under her breath. “Where is she?”
“I can take you to her.”
After learning about Margo’s involvement in the preservationist group, Sadie had experienced a resurgence of hope that she was in fact alive, perhaps hiding underground somewhere. Before then, keeping her quiet was the only plausible motive Sadie had been able to come up with for Langley leading her away.
Sadie’s mind spun as he pushed her forward into a walk. She
would be a fool to believe her captor, but if he had Margo . . . She hadn’t been seen for five days. “Where is she? Why are you taking me to her?”
“Because you have somethin’ we need.”
“What?” They were quickly approaching a big white van parked on the edge of the field. Anxiety kicked in along with her observation skills. Some sections of paint on the door were brighter than others—a decal recently removed, maybe? She couldn’t see the license plate or the make of the van. The Cowboy smelled like cigarettes.
“We’re gonna have us a discussion about all of this, so just hold your pretty little horses.” She could tell by his voice that he was smiling.
“I need proof,” Sadie said, frantically trying to decide what to do. What if this was her only chance to find Margo? “I need to talk to her before I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, you’re comin’,” the Cowboy said. “I’m not really leaving that decision up to you.”
When they were a few feet from the van, the side door pushed open, and a younger man jumped out. Seeing the gaping interior of the van—there were no seats, just space—gave Sadie a burst of fear, and she began struggling.
“I—” The Cowboy clamped a hand over her mouth, and she realized she’d waited too long to put up a fight. Between the second man and the Cowboy, they lifted her and threw her inside the van, stripping her purse from her arm in the process.
She tried to scramble to her feet as soon as she hit the floor, but the second man pulled the door shut before she could get up, and then he pinned her to the floor of the van by pressing his knee against her head. His hand was over her mouth as soon as she’d thought to scream, while the fingers of his other hand dug into the space just below her clavicle. Like her, he knew pressure points, and the pain and nerve cessation his actions produced rendered her nearly incapacitated.
She couldn’t help but scream against his hand, though, as he pressed harder and harder. Fabric was pushed into her mouth, causing her to gag while forcing her to breathe through her nose. He moved his knee to her back, and then he pulled her arms back, quickly tying her wrists together—a process not much different from the calves she’d seen roped at a rodeo Caro had taken her to the first week she was in Santa Fe.
Tres Leches Cupcakes Page 21