Changes to the Recipe

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Changes to the Recipe Page 13

by K. J. Emrick


  He was smiling in good humor, and Cookie couldn’t understand for the life of her how that could be. “Dear Lord, Jerry. That man is trying to ruin you. He’s trying to ruin this town. You think that he killed Sheila. You think he had something to do with the gunshots fired at this very house. After all that, how can you possibly just stand there and smile?”

  “Because,” he said, giving her a quick hug. “I have a very good memory for numbers. I don’t need the will to remember that bank account. So. What should we pick up for Cream on the way home?”

  Cream went after the can of beef and gravy dog treat as soon as Cookie spooned it into his dish. He liked it so much that he was pushing the dish across the kitchen floor of the apartment in his efforts to lap up every last bit of it.

  The day was getting away from them and Cookie felt like they weren’t getting anything accomplished except to collect more questions that didn’t have answers. Although, they did manage to find what Sheila had done with her money. That had been the one success that Rosen hadn’t been able to take away from them yet. So for now, they were keeping that clue a secret.

  She got out her laptop from the closet where she usually kept it, and wiped off the thin layer of dust from the cover before bringing it out to the kitchen table with its power cord.

  “I’ll have to get the bakery ready for tomorrow morning,” she said as she sat down. “I have so much to do, and since we don’t know when Sheila’s services are going to be rescheduled for I’ll have to open the shop tomorrow. I can’t afford to stay closed for days on end.”

  “When I’m retired for real,” Jerry said, stretching out in his chair at the table, “I’ll be able to help you here. Then you won’t have to worry about closing up whenever something happens in your personal life.”

  “Oh? Is that the way you’re going to spend your free time when you’re no longer a police officer? Won’t you find that dreadfully dull?”

  He leaned across the table and kissed her warmly on the cheek while the computer went through its start-up screens. “You’re never dull.”

  She twisted her head in his embrace and put her lips to his, adding heat to the kiss. She saw his eyes widen before she closed her own. Time slipped away, and all there was between them was each other.

  The computer beeped.

  Cream was at her feet in the next instant, whining for her attention with a paw against her ankle.

  Reluctantly, Cookie settled back in her chair, the taste of Jerry’s lips lingering on hers. The love they had for each other still surprised her at times.

  Sharing a little smile with Jerry, she reached down to pick up Cream and settle him in her lap. “What do you want, little dog? Did you enjoy your treat?”

  He laid his head down on his paws, content and happy.

  The computer beeped again.

  “Okay,” Jerry said. He ran a thumb across his lower lip as if he could still feel her there, too. “Let’s see what we have here.”

  He brought the computer over in front of him and tapped away at the keys while Cookie stroked Cream’s fur and thought about the things she would need to do to get ready for her customers tomorrow. Things to bake tonight, and things to mix up to have ready, and she might as well bring up some more flour from the cellar because she was running low…

  “Interesting,” Jerry said.

  Cookie brought her thoughts back to the present. “What? What is it?”

  “I’m not sure… hold on.”

  She was patient for a whole thirty seconds before she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Jerry, what did you find?”

  “I think, if I’m reading this right, that the account number is for a Canadian bank.”

  “A Canadian bank?” How odd, Cookie thought. Now wait, wasn’t she just thinking about Canada a day or two ago? Yes. She was sure of it. Why on Earth was she thinking about Canada?

  Jerry turned the screen so Cookie could see it. She squinted at the webpage he’d pulled up, wishing that she didn’t need reading glasses. She was only sixty-four after all. Only old people needed glasses, and she wasn’t old people. Not yet.

  Although she had to admit, she was older today than she had been yesterday.

  “There’s not much information here,” Jerry pointed out. “No names or anything. That would have been far too much to hope for. But see right here? This clearly shows the routing number for that account goes to a bank in Canada.”

  There it was again. Canada. Cookie could clearly remember thinking about the neighboring country to the north. Usually she didn’t give it much mind. Canada was like the quiet next door neighbor that you hardly ever paid any mind to except to say hello from time to time. There were some Canadian tourists who liked to stop through Widow’s Rest on a regular basis but it wasn’t like she knew any Canadians personally. She had distant relatives up there, but then again so did a lot of people. A lot of the older families in this part of the country had originally migrated from Canada.

  That wasn’t it.

  No. There was something else. Some reason why she’d been thinking about Canada. Oh it was right on the tip of her tongue.

  What was it?

  Oh, curse these senior moments. It was harder and harder to remember simple things like this. She had recipes that she absolutely had to write down so she wouldn’t forget a step or how much baking soda to add or if there was even supposed to be baking soda in there in the first place. Once upon a time she could do all of it by memory. Not anymore.

  Then it came to her in a flash, and she remembered.

  …he ran off to Canada. Or maybe it was England…

  No. It was Canada.

  That was what she’d been thinking about. That was why Canada had come up.

  “Jerry,” she said, breathlessly. “I think I know who killed Sheila. I think… I’m pretty sure I know who, and I think I know why. I’m just not sure how to prove it.”

  When she told him what she was thinking, he stared at her for a moment, and then he shook his head. “I think you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong.” The more Cookie thought about it, in fact, the more certain she was. Certainly, before now, everything had been pointing to Chief Rosen. Now she could see more of the puzzle, and she could see how things could still point his way.

  Turn the puzzle a different way, however, and things looked totally different.

  Oh, yes. She was quite sure.

  Jerry leaned back in his seat with a broad smile. “Should we make a bet, then? A wager on which one of us is right?”

  She smiled back at him. “What do I get if I win?”

  His smile never changed. “My undying love. Forever.”

  “Oh, I like that. Know what you get if you win?”

  “What?”

  “The same thing from me.”

  He stroked her fingers with his. “Sounds like a win-win.”

  “Yes. It does. At least it would, if we had any way to prove it one way or the other.”

  His eyes sparkled. “What we need is a plan. As it just so happens, I think I have one.”

  After dinner, Jerry changed out of his uniform. He folded it up neatly and placed it into a plastic shopping bag. He rolled the duty belt up into a tight circle and put it into the bag as well. His gun was still in its holster. He kept the boots.

  “The department made me pay for them,” he explained. “So I’m going to keep them.”

  “Whatever will you use them for?” Cookie asked him.

  He smiled at her. “I’ll use them for gardening.”

  Cookie had been downstairs all afternoon making the bakery ready for tomorrow. Then they’d eaten, and finalized the plan that Jerry had come up with. There were a few things left for her to do but they could wait until morning. Right now, the two of them had somewhere to be.

  Jerry drove them, and it didn’t take any time at all before they were at the police station.

  They were very sure that Chief Rosen would still be there. On the way, they had driven by
Rosen’s house. His car wasn’t there. They found it at the police station as soon as they pulled up to the curb outside.

  “Are you ready for this?” Cookie asked Jerry.

  “Oddly enough… yes. I am. I thought it would be a lot harder than this to turn it all in but I’ve just reached a point. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to have anything to do with Rosen and his new order.” He took a breath, and he held it, and then slowly let it out. “Yeah, I’m ready. It’s time.”

  She was so proud of him. Whatever he chose, she would stand by him. It made her so happy to see him making such a big decision and meeting it head on, and she loved him for doing this with her.

  Every eye in the place turned to watch them as they came through the door from the lobby and into the inner offices. Jerry kept his head up, and traded a few words with some of them, and ignored others completely. Together, they went straight to the chief’s office down the hallway.

  “Hey, Stansted!” They heard Mason McLear‘s voice yelling to them. “You got a lot of nerve showing your face in here.”

  Jerry stopped in front of the Chief’s door, turning back to face Mason, and Cassandra standing right there with him. Cookie was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t something going on between those two. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever seen one without the other. Maybe they were Siamese twins separated at birth, she thought, a little smile crossing her face.

  “What are you looking at?” Cassandra asked her.

  “Oh, dear,” Cookie answered her. “I’m not sure you want an answer to that.”

  She had the pleasure of seeing Cassandra blink as she tried to think of a comeback, and failed.

  Jerry lifted up the bag in his hand. “I’m turning in my uniform to the chief, Mason. Don’t worry. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.”

  “Good,” Cassandra told him. She’d regained her composure at least a little bit from Cookie’s veiled insult. “Drop it and go. This department needs younger blood. It’s time to replace all you old guard.”

  Cookie saw the way Jerry’s hand tightened around the loops of the plastic bag. She felt a little angry herself. She and Jerry might be older, but they still had more to contribute to this town than people like Mason and Cassandra, who were only here to bully people with the power of their badge. She knew that as true as she knew anyone.

  So did Jerry.

  Out in the main room, several officers stood watching. She saw a mix of expressions as they watched this exchange play out. Jerry was right. It was hard to say which side any of them might be on.

  After another moment, Jerry forced a smile. “Tell you what,” he said to Cassandra. “If you think you deserve this uniform more than I do, then why don’t you come and take it from me.”

  He held the bag out.

  Every officer in the department held their breath.

  Then the door to Rosen’s office opened, and he was standing there, taking in the situation with a look that was almost amused. It figured, Cookie thought to herself. He was exactly the sort of man who would enjoy watching his own people snap at each other.

  His eyes finally fell on Jerry. “That your uniform?”

  With a calm that Cookie found very attractive, Jerry nodded. “Yes. I figure it’s time.”

  Rosen held his hand out just like he had when he demanded they turn over Sheila’s will. Like it was owed to him. “Give it to me.”

  Jerry held the bag out.

  With a look of triumph, Rosen grabbed for it.

  And Jerry pulled it back.

  “I’d like to talk to you first, Chief.”

  Rosen’s neck flushed around his stiff collar. “If I give you time to speak your peace, will you finally leave for good?”

  After a moment, Jerry answered, “Sure.”

  “Then by all means,” Rosen said with a mocking bow, “come on in.”

  Mason and Cassandra crowded into the tight space of Ed Rosen’s office right behind them. They stood on either side, up against the walls, like smug bookends.

  “So have your say already,” Rosen said to them as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. He motioned for Jerry and Cookie to sit as well. “And when you’re done, get out of my department.”

  “We just wanted to tell you one thing,” Jerry said, and as he paused for effect Cookie could see Mason and Cassandra tense.

  Rosen threw his hands up. “Just get on with it, will you?”

  Jerry looked at Cookie, letting her take the lead. She folded her hands together to keep them from shaking. This was the moment of truth. “We wanted to tell you that we found the money that Sheila took out of her account.”

  There, she thought. If that wasn’t enough to flush the chief out as the suspect, then it certainly would flush out the suspect she had in mind.

  Looking over her shoulder, she eyed Mason, and then Cassandra.

  Then she turned back to the chief. He wasn’t smiling.

  “What do you mean, you found the money!” His fist slammed down on the desk and he edged forward in his seat. “You had that money already, and you kept that from me? I need that money!”

  Jerry crossed his legs. Cookie could almost hear him crowing, I told you so.

  Well, they would just have to see about that, wouldn’t they?

  “We found it yesterday,” Jerry explained, watching Rosen closely. “And then we returned it to the proper owner.”

  “What!” The chief exploded out of his chair so quickly that it actually fell over to the floor behind him. “How exactly did you do that, since we all know that Sheila Tucker is dead? Huh? You want to tell me how you returned money to a dead woman?”

  Jerry examined his nails like he was bored in the face of Rosen’s ire. “I didn’t mean that we gave it to Sheila, Ed. We gave the money to Sheila’s attorney. He’s going to keep it safe at his law office until Amanda leaves the hospital. Then she can receive her inheritance like she was supposed to in the first place. Before someone shot at her.”

  Cookie had rarely in her whole entire life seen Chief Ed Rosen at a loss for words. They were usually unkind words, but he always had something to say. This time it took him several long moments before he could speak again. The silence was wonderful.

  “You should not have done that,” Rosen said in a low rumble.

  “Well, it’s done,” Jerry told him simply. “So I guess that’s it. Now all that’s left is to bring the killer to justice.”

  He stared Rosen down as he said it, and Cookie doubted that the contest of wills between those two was lost on anyone in the room.

  “If there’s nothing else, Ed, then I guess we’re done here.” Jerry didn’t wait for an answer as he stood up, and offered his hand to Cookie to help her up from her chair as well.

  They were to the door when Cassandra spoke up. “I have something. I’m curious. Where’d you find this money? We were all looking for it and we never found a trace but you just happened to trip across it? I’m not buying it.”

  Cookie had been hoping someone would ask. “It was in the garden of the retirement home. When we took a look in Sheila’s apartment the day after she died we found gardening gloves that had fresh dirt on them. We also found some empty flower pots. The sticker was still on them from wherever Sheila had bought them. Yellow lilies. There was one patch of them in the garden so all we had to do was dig under them and there was the money, all bundled up and wrapped in plastic bags. The retirement home encourages the residents there to plant flowers. I’m not sure if they encourage people to bury their valuables back there as well, but it certainly worked for Sheila. Her killer never found it.”

  Mason chuckled. “Whatever. Like the two of you are some great investigators or something.”

  “Actually,” Cookie said, turning her gaze on him, “if you and Cassandra here hadn’t been so quick to empty out Sheila’s apartment, maybe you would have figured it out for yourselves. By the way. Did you pay your bar tab at the Old Crow yet?” />
  They left him there with his mouth hanging open, and his eyes wide. When Cookie threw a glance over her way, Cassandra’s expression was pretty much the same.

  Together, she and Jerry left the chief’s office, and stepped down the hallway, into the open officer’s area where everyone was standing on their feet, waiting for them. They stopped, not sure what was going to happen now.

  One by one, all the officers began clapping.

  Chapter 9

  Cream was with them this time.

  For the most part he was sitting very quietly in Cookie’s lap. She’d even noticed him snoring softly a few times. He needed his rest, poor old thing. In dog years, he was far older than she was, after all.

  “I wish I didn’t have to close the bakery again today,” she said while continuing to watch through the windshield. “All my customers will be so disappointed.”

  From the driver’s seat, Jerry took a hand off the steering wheel and reached over to scratch between Cream’s ears. “I’m sure your customers will understand. They’ll have a large selection of day old product when you open up again, too. That’ll help make them feel better.”

  “Very funny,” she said drily, although she couldn’t help the way a smile crept over her lips. “I’m serious, Jerry. I’m going to have to hire someone to help me with the bakery. That’s all there is to it. I can’t keep closing up shop every time… every time…”

  “Every time,” he finished for her in a gentle voice, “one of your friends dies?”

  She shrugged, because that was the truth of it. “Or anything else goes wrong. This is Widow’s Rest, after all.”

  “True enough. Don’t worry. It won’t be long before you have me there full time to help you out.”

  She took his hand in hers and held it up to her lips for a kiss. “And I’m very much looking forward to that, if you’re sure it’s what you want.”

  “It is,” he said, but Cookie thought he maybe said it just a little bit too quickly.

 

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