Promises: Star's Bakery (The Baker Girl Book 2)

by Mary Jane Forbes

  A timid smile slowly turned Benny’s lips up as he accepted the handkerchief, smearing the ketchup as he tried to wipe the gooey stuff off his shirt.

  Star and Tyler pushed through the swinging doors, rushed to Benny’s side, knelt on the floor beside his wheelchair. “Are you all right? What in the world did you think you were doing?”

  “Detective Watson already scolded me.”

  “But, Benny, you could—” Star stopped mid-sentence, as she and Tyler chuckled. Benny was not bleeding unless ketchup counted as blood.

  Tyler stood, moved a chair next to Benny for Star. Holding Benny’s hand she slid up on the chair as her smile faded. “Benny, you could have been hurt. Killed.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I would never have forgiven myself if anything happened to you.” Blinking, trying to hold the tears back, she looked away from her dear friend. Tyler was over rolling up the remains of the Michelin man. She looked back into Benny’s eyes seeking his help.

  “Hey, Star. I’m fine ... really. Now don’t you go crying. The good guys won … or is something else going on here? Tell me.”

  Star shook her head. “Things are changing. I don’t know …”

  Benny looked down. Star was clutching his hand, holding on to something she knew was real—their friendship. “Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours. You’ll know what to do when the time comes. Follow your heart, and everything will work out.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded, swiped at tear, eyes following Tyler.

  “Oh, Star, you’re in love. Perry Mason knows these things.”

  Star smiled at Benny, squeezed his hand, her eyes turning back to Tyler. He was walking to the coffee service table.

  Reaching behind the coffeemaker, he switched off the cameras he’d set up, hoping to catch Jude and Thom in the act, an act to help the police nail the case. His eyes swept the shop. What a scene. All digitized. All captured in computer files, segmented by camera angle.

  Cartoon characters danced through Tyler’s head. He had the beginning of a sequel to The Little Baker Girl—Perry Mason and Michelin Man save the chocolate fudge cupcakes.

  Chapter 48

  New Year’s Day

  BY THE TIME everyone left the bakery, including the police, it was 2:00 a.m. when Tyler walked Star to her front door. Both exhausted, both emotionally drained. They kissed and said goodnight. Star tiptoed into her apartment and quietly prepared for bed, climbing the ladder to her bunk.

  She lay staring at the ceiling. Another few hours and Ty will be leaving, returning to California. No plans on when we’ll see each other next. No plans for anything. Gran will be next to leave. She’s tired. She mentioned again that maybe it was time to return to Hoboken.

  A tear rolled down Star’s cheek onto the pillow she clutched to her chest. “I love you, Ty. What are we going to do?” she whispered, snuffling, burrowing under the covers, drying her eyes with the edge of the sheet, only to have more droplets spring up.

  “Dear, are you crying?”

  Star peeked out from under the covers. Gran was standing on the second rung of the ladder looking at the lump under the covers.

  “I miss Ty and he hasn’t even left yet.”

  Gran carefully climbed up the remaining rungs, crawled next to her granddaughter, cradled her in her arms.

  “What am I going to do, Gran? The bakery? Ty? You should have seen him tonight, setting everything up.”

  “From what little you told me when you called, it must have been scary. I don’t think you should have been there.”

  Wiping her eyes, Star smiled. “Gran, I was surrounded by police officers ready to pounce. They kept me in the back next to the cupboard with all the bread pans. Ty said he’d bring the clip to the bakery in the morning so everyone can see Benny. Ty kept calling Benny a hero.”

  “Well, I’m climbing back down. We only have a few hours to sleep. Little did we know when you invited everyone to the bakery for a New Year’s Day brunch that it was going to be an expose. News reports kept popping up on television about all the police cars at your bakery. Of course, that got my attention. Then another breaking news report saying shots had been fired. All I knew was that you were with Tyler. I never dreamed you were at the bakery. I thought maybe a robbery. You should have told me. I was about to the call the police when you called.”

  Star shifted out of her grandmother’s arms. “Gran, I couldn’t. Detective Watson kept saying how vital it was that everything be kept quiet.”

  “I understand … I guess. But I can’t say I liked being left in the dark.” She patted Star’s hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m okay. Why don’t you sleep in so—”

  “What? Miss all the excitement? I’m coming with you. What time did you say brunch is?”

  “Eleven. I’m going in at eight. Make sure everything is cleaned up and I’ll bake some muffins, a couple of loaves of crusty olive bread so the bakery will have the welcoming scent of fresh bread.”

  Gran giggled. “I bet you anything they’ll all be early with the nonstop television news reports, even if it is a holiday. I’m surprised the phone isn’t ringing right now. Benny definitely. He’ll be antsy to tell the Butterworth sisters what happened last night.”

  • • •

  THE BAKERY WAS BUZZING before 10:30 as Gran predicted. Benny didn’t wait to be picked up. Stocking cap and muffler bouncing in the breeze, he motored up Atlantic Avenue. He shot through the front door Star held open for him. Laughing, she told him the Butterworth sisters were just coming in the back door. Grinning, he startled the sisters by rolling into the kitchen immediately relating in great detail the events with two men … carrying guns! Of course, he repeated the story when Wanda arrived.

  Star silently went about setting up the brunch buffet on the kitchen island—muffins, bread sliced in a basket, deli-meat plate, and a pineapple upside-down cake. She was aware of the chatter around her, but paid them no mind. Her thoughts were of Tyler, hoping he would arrive soon. She was aware the little clusters of two or three, one or two, kept changing—sometimes laughing, sometimes whispering, sometimes a furtive glance toward Star, then heads bent together again. But Benny was the center of attention—the main attraction.

  Tyler bustled in the backdoor, gave Star a peck on the lips, a hug with another kiss on her forehead before releasing her. Spreading a dishtowel at the end of the baking table, he set up his laptop, clicked the play button.

  You could have heard a cat tiptoeing across the floor in the quiet that enveloped the kitchen. Quiet except when Perry Mason stood, yelled, and shots rang out. Hattie and Mattie screamed. Benny smiled knowing the kicker was coming—flicking the ketchup off his shirt.

  Tyler hit pause, retrieved his phone from his pants pocket. Seeing the caller ID, he hit the resume button on the laptop, turned his back on everyone and walked out the backdoor to talk. Returning in a few minutes, he glanced Star’s way, then stood back leaning against the wall for the last of the video.

  Star watched him out of the corner of her eyes, then looked back at the laptop for the last few seconds of the take down.

  The sisters and Wanda clapped so hard their palms turned red, as did Benny’s face as each hugged him, kissed his cheeks, danced around his chair. Then Hattie pushed the chair to the front of the shop singing For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Mattie followed dancing around the display cases, whisking a cloth over the glass. Wanda and Gran followed bringing the pineapple upside-down cake and sugar cookies with sprinkles to set by the coffee service. All joined Hattie in song.

  In the back, Star stepped into Tyler’s embrace. Leaning back, she asked him who called. The look on his face spelled bad news.

  “No, no. Not bad,” he replied, his fingers running down her arms, grasping her hands.

  “For not bad, you look worried. What’s wrong?”

  “It was the producer. It’s a go for The Little Baker Girl. He wants to handle it. Be my agent. There’s a slot he’s already scheduled around Valentine�
�s Day.”

  “Ty, that’s wonderful.” Star managed to get the words out even though they strangled in her throat. His life was moving forward without her, moving far away.

  “Hey, where is everybody?” Manny asked, Liz bumping through the backdoor with Lizzie in her carrier.

  The singing dancers swung back to the kitchen from the front of the shop pushing Benny in the lead. “Manny, Liz, just in time to celebrate. Have you seen the video?” Anne called out.

  “Yes, Ty sent us a copy. I previewed the action just before we left the house,” Liz said grinning, giving Ty a congratulatory hug. Her brows furrowed. Something was wrong—he and Star didn’t look happy.

  Star turned away from Tyler. She couldn’t bear to see the confusion in his eyes. “Manny, any news? What’s happening in Dallas? Is Louise okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, can we get a couple more stools? Might as well stay in the kitchen. Detective Shepherd called me several times during the night. Seems after Detective Watson’s men hauled Jude and Thom out, as you saw in the video, things became very active in Dallas. Detective Watson had the signed document ready to remand Jude and Thom over to Detective Shepherd’s custody in Dallas. So, while Detective Watson escorted the pair on the flight from Florida, Shepherd served the search warrant and took possession of the cigar box Louise Wainwright found in the closet, even though Jude had rearranged the shelf.”

  “What was in the cigar box, Manny,” Hattie asked.

  “I didn’t know about any cigar box.” Mattie added.

  “The box had incriminating evidence—John Doe’s wallet and some postcards he had sent to his daughter that Jude had intercepted. The postcards told Louise where he was and where he was staying.”

  “Oh, my. I would say that put the nail in Jude’s coffin,” Wanda said.

  “You can say that again, Wanda,” Liz chirped, her hand gently rocking Lizzie’s carrier.

  “Yup,” Manny said topping off his coffee. “And, Detective Shepherd then arrested Dale Wainwright’s lawyer, and arrested Lou Weed, Louise’s daughter, on conspiracy to commit murder. Shepherd thinks Lou will agree to testify against her husband, admit her part in the scheme.”

  Benny piped up. “But you told us that she’s pregnant, surely—”

  “Louise paid her bail. She’s out in her mother’s custody.” Manny looked at his watch. “And now, I think it’s about time to call Louise Wainwright. She wants to talk to you, Star. She has something to tell you,” Manny said punching the number, waiting for Louise to pick up.

  “Good morning, Louise. It’s Manny Salinas, and I have Star Bloom for you. Hang on.”

  Manny handed the phone to Star. She backed away, shaking her head. Manny nodded for her to take the phone, pushing it into her hand.

  “Miss Bloom, are you there?”

  A whisper of air fell over Star’s lips. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “Someday I want to tell you in person how grateful I am to you that my father found happiness at the end. That you inadvertently gave his remaining time a purpose. And … I want to apologize for not speaking with you when we met in your bakery. There was so much going on that I was afraid to speak for fear I would say something that my husband might know I was on to him. Will you forgive me?”

  “Yes … of course.”

  “Not knowing Cliff was involved I almost ruined any hope of catching them by surprise. But I’ll save the gory details until we meet.”

  Star listened to Louise. She paced the kitchen as the woman on the other end apologized and thanked her again. Star looked at Tyler. What was happening to them? Everything was spinning out of control. Now they had a whole new set of circumstances. Good? Bad? No … it couldn’t be bad.

  “Miss Bloom, are you there? I can’t hear you.”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m here.”

  “One more thing, Miss Bloom. Can you email me your bank account number? The money my father stipulated should be paid to you in his codicil will be deposited electronically tomorrow.”

  Chapter 49

  THE COMMOTION AT THE BAKERY, hugs, kisses, whispers of what was Star going to do, came to an end. Manny and Liz took Gran to dinner, telling Star they would drive her home. Wanda and The Butterworth sisters drew straws as to which car would transport the exhausted Perry Mason home. Wanda won the draw.

  The sun had set by five-thirty and the stars were popping out. The holiday was drawing to an end. The temperature stalled in the mid-twenties. A few brave souls walked along the beach, some carrying boom boxes on their shoulders, drums beating over the gentle surf. Children, oblivious to the cold, ran laughing, pushing, shoving each other like puppies.

  Tyler gripped Star’s hand as they shuffled over the sand. He was leaving shortly. Star was driving him to the Orlando Airport. These were their last hours together, for how long they didn’t know. But, they were determined not to be sad.

  The past year had been incredible. After all, we met didn’t we? A chance meeting in a diner and now they were lovers. He had a wonderful, stimulating, challenging job in California. She had opened a bakery and come the second of January, when the banks opened, Star would be an heiress with twenty-five million dollars in her account.

  Yes, it had been a very good year.

  “So, my little baker girl, what are you going to do first with the money?”

  “Invest in the bakery?” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, questioning, seeking answers.

  “Star, you have to take care of the money. In my short few months in California, the film industry, I’ve seen many make a fortune one day only to lose it the next.”

  “Ty, I don’t want to be one of those people, but how—”

  “You need help. I think you told me that your dad’s an accountant. You can talk to my dad … no, family may not be a good idea. Talk to Louise Wainwright. Give to one of her charities—do something worthwhile besides being a tax deduction. Money changes things … changes people.”

  “You’re not saying that I’ve changed are you?”

  “No, but you have the means to dream big. You don’t want to squander it. You’re smart. You’ve fulfilled the bakery dream. What’s your next dream, next big dream?”

  “Ty, you know I can’t answer that … not yet anyway. Roth hasn’t called. If he doesn’t offer me a job, then … well … either way … I don’t know.” Tyler had her head spinning. She felt overwhelmed. Inadequate. Incapable of making such big decisions.

  “Come on, Miss Bloom, what’s swirling around under those blond curls—an E-book for kids? Study nutrition to serve up the most nutritious, healthy ingredients in those E-books?”

  A big bang filled the air over the water. A group of college students were huddled over a makeshift launch pad, shooting the remnants of their fireworks, extending their celebration of a new year. Bursts of color filled the sky, cascading into more bursts, more shots into the blanket of stars above. The freezing temperatures of the night before had moderated, but the air was still very cold. Star wrapped her coat tighter as Tyler pulled her down to the sand, cuddling her on his lap. Squealing in delight, she pointed at a starburst ending in streamers. It was the last.

  Still holding her, kissing her silky hair, he whispered, “I love you, Star Bloom.”

  Snuggling deeper into his chest, “I love you, Ty, so much it hurts. Tomorrow—”

  “Shh. I haven’t told you my latest idea, another collaboration besides the E-books.”

  “What?”

  “A comic strip. Not for newspapers, but a strip that appears on a home page greeting the user … a chuckle to start his or her day. I’m thinking the first might be called, The Bakers. Fun, filled with pratfalls of a certain baker I know,” he said hugging her to him. “And, can’t you just see the Butterworth sisters … and Benny. I’m thinking of a series, pitching it to Google, Yahoo, Amazon. It could also be an app for smartphones. Maybe monetize the strip by including a product, advertise a product as the sisters cook up the next laugh.”
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br />   Star squirmed around onto the sand. “Ty, it could be very cute, and lots of fun. Oh, I could tell you so many funny calamities that go on every day in the bakery.”

  “I was sure you could give me material. Banking on it. And I was thinking of another … like the sting last night. Include Benny’s trials inside the Perry Mason costume.”

  Tyler pulled her to her feet, held her close. It was time to leave to catch his flight.

  “Of course, it would be nice if there were two people working together, a couple in love, their desks almost touching, in front of a panel of windows overlooking the ocean, and out of the corner of their eyes they could see the Hippodrome housing a very beautiful carousel, and one particular white horse, on which perched a beautiful blonde. Of course, her name would just happen to be Star.”

  Star looked down, dug her toe in the sand, Dale Wainwright’s words swirling in her mind—Never hesitate to take a risk that in your heart you believe in, if only you had the nerve. Go for it!

  Chapter 50

  EVERYTHING HAD BEEN said. He held her in his arms, hugged, embraced—the last kiss goodbye.

  Star watched Tyler disappear as the airport escalator crowned the top landing. She visualized him making his way to the tram that would transport him to his gate. She stood staring as the stairs continued to mount the slope, her arms wrapped around her where Ty’s body had been only minutes before. His lingering kiss, embrace.

  Sighing, she turned and slowly made her way to the multi-tiered parking garage.

  Pulling out of the airport Star merged east onto FL 528, the road native Floridians called the B-line to the Kennedy Space Center. At the fork in the highway, she turned north on I-95. As she drove she struggled to assemble her thoughts in some kind of order, what she had to do before opening the bakery tomorrow … a day without Tyler.

  Her cell signaled an incoming call. She reached across the console, fished around in her tote for the phone, checked the display. It was Vincent Roth.