Potts Better Butter Bakery

by S. D. Anderson

  Less than ten minutes later, eight minutes and thirty-six seconds to be exact, Connie was deposited in Matt’s arms, shaken but unhurt. Filing out of the other doors to rooms 125 through 129 trussed up like chickens prepared for the rotisserie were the rest of the thugs and Ardito himself still in his robe and pajamas. Although his slippers seem to be missing as he carefully plucked his way across the stones around the edge of the motel walkways muttering, “What a dump!” to anyone who would listen.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Matt delivered Connie home around midnight to an anxious daughter and watched as Gina became the mother and immediately wrapped her arms around her mom and led her upstairs to her bedroom.

  “We’ll make you some nice hot chocolate with marshmallows,” she cooed, “and I baked cookies this morning so if you are hungry, you can have a few.” Gina smiled. “I am so happy you are safe and here. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “Thanks, Honey, but I am so tired I may fall asleep before you get it made.”

  “Too late, Mike has it all prepared for you.”

  “In that case, a cup would taste great. That was nice of him. I haven’t had any food since the opening yesterday or was that today? I am so disoriented.” Connie sat on the side of her bed and looked around her room. “I am glad that Matt and the Feds rescued me. I cannot imagine what would have happened if they hadn’t.”

  Gina began to tear up. “You’re home safe, so don’t even think about it.”

  “How’s the baby?” Connie leaned over and grabbed Gina’s hand.

  “Sleeping right now. He will be ready for a feeding in a half hour.”

  His grandmother smiled and looked up as Mike gently tapped on the door.

  “Good, time enough for me to take a much needed shower so I can hold him. Come in, Mike.”

  Carrying a small tray with two mugs of chocolate and a few cookies on a dish, Mike set the tray down on the small table at the side of the bed. He smiled at Connie, “Happy you are home safe Connie,” he grinned and handed Connie a neatly folded and ironed napkin. Connie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. No one in this house had ever ironed napkins. This would take some getting used to.

  “Thank you, this is a rare treat.” Connie reached over and patted Mike’s hand as he set the tray down, “why don’t you get a mug of chocolate for yourself and join us?”

  “Mom, I better get ready for the baby’s feeding,” Gina interrupted, “can I leave you two to have the chocolate?” Gina smiled as she backed her way over to the door. “You have a lot of catching up. I’m sure Mike wants to hear all about your time in captivity.”

  “Gina?” Connie’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline in total surprise as Gina scurried through the door closing it gently behind her.

  “Well, Mike, looks like we have been set up. Sorry about that!”

  “I’m not, Connie, we really were very worried about you. Those mob gangsters are unpredictable. This De Caprio is one mean guy for want of a better word. He has a trail of dead and missing bodies behind him, nothing we can prove but his stamp was on most of them. Anything could have happened. The fact that he kidnapped you means he still doesn’t know where the loot is. He wants it bad!”

  “I thought I left all that behind when I left Vegas years ago. It still followed me here. I was so careful, Mike, I changed our names and everything. I guess when they want to find you, they don’t give up.”

  ”At least you had a few good years here without being recognized and Gina had a normal life without that shadow. We talked about it yesterday. She is a great kid, Connie, you did a good job raising her all by yourself.”

  “Thanks Mike, I appreciate that. Sativa’s Mom and Grandmother were our support system here. I am so grateful that Sativa stood by me through it all while she and Indica were in Vegas. I owe her a lot. She sent us money when we needed it. She paid for Bubba’s education and Gina’s too. I hope we can pay her back someday.” Connie finished the last of her hot chocolate, which was cool by now, stretched, and yawned.

  Mike, reading the signal easily, stood, gathered cups onto the tray and headed towards the door. “Shower time and bed for you, my girl,” and quietly closed it behind him.

  I haven’t been called ‘my girl’ since my Dad. Nice to be pampered. I liked it, though. Time for that shower and hopefully a good night’s sleep.

  Chapter Thirty

  Earlier that day…

  “What old guy on a bike? You mean that one? “Bugsy pointed to the guy in question, “Wait a minute. That sure looks like Knifey.”

  “What did I tell ya?”

  “He’s turnin around, I don’t like this, Fritzie.”

  “Me neither, come on.” He pulled Bugsy by the sheet disrobing him.

  “Hey, my sheet!”

  “Sorry,” he tossed the sheet at Bugsy and pointed to the back yard. “You go over by the picnic table and I’ll send him to you.”

  Bugsy wrapped the sheet securely around his ghostly body and floated in the direction of the picnic table. Fritzie took off after Knifey. He came in behind the bike with Knifey pedaling as fast as his legs would go. Fritzie grabbed the back wheel and lifted it by the fender propelling it off the street down the driveway and into the back yard. He dropped it next to a shrub.

  “WOW! That was some ride!” was all Knifey could say as he staggered off the bike, his legs shaking like a kid who had just gotten off the roller coaster for the first time looking for a place to throw up.

  He wheeled the bike over and parked it leaning it against a tree. He held on for a few seconds to stop his body from rattling. That ride had really shaken him. True, he hadn’t ridden a bike for a few years but he could never remember a ride like that one. Attempting to clear his thoughts, he tried to focus on the current moment. His hands were shaking and he was still a little unnerved from the ride but he was intent on two things. One, not to be seen and two to find the loot. Slipping behind the tree for cover, (it wasn’t a large tree) Knifey looked around as he ‘cased the joint’ in gangster language.

  “These guys are so laughable,” Fritzie remarked to Bugsy, “no creativity.”

  “Fritzie, I got an idea. Be right back. You get him over to the picnic table.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Revenge.”

  Bugsy disappeared into the house through the wall (he was really getting proficient at that) and headed to the kitchen. No one was around, a good omen for him. He floated into the back part of the kitchen and spied the box from the Better Butter Bakery on a shelf in the pantry. He reached up, grabbed it, and slid it under his sheet. He heard Gina call to McGregor who left his freshly poured cup of coffee on the kitchen counter to see what she wanted. Bugsy, realizing his opportunity picked up the cup and slipped back out, this time through the open window. He set the bakery box and the coffee down on the picnic table as Fritzie was urging Knifey over. Actually he was urging/lifting/pushing him.

  Knifey sat down on the bench with a decided plop, grateful to be on something solid. His nerves were shattered and his thinking was erratic.

  What is happening to me? My nerves are shot. I can’t stop shaking. How did I get from the tree to the picnic table? I don’t remember walking. Geeze, what is wrong with me. I’m not usually like this. I could use a cup of coffee right now. Here is one on the picnic table. Wonder who it belongs to? Think I’ll drink it anyhow. Gawd, that tastes good. Just the right amount of sugar and cream. Steady my nerves. What’s in this box? Oh! Good! Better Butter Brownies. I am hungry, too. It’s been a long time since breakfast. No one will mind if I have one of the brownies. Or maybe a couple.

  Fritzie and Bugsy watched as Knifey devoured two of the brownies and was reaching for a third when the box was whisked away from him. Knifey reached for the coffee with an unsteady hand and gulped down the remains scalding his mouth.

  What the *&^% is going on here? Hey, who took the brownies? I liked them. They were delicious. I want som
e more. They make me feel warm all over. The coffee was delicious, too. I feel wonderful!

  He began to feel a little drowsy and felt his entire body start to relax. He started to drift off into sleep only to jerk himself back .

  No, wait, I have to concentrate on the loot and the money I’m gonna get some money, I love money only I ain’t got any. That sounds like a song I used to sing.

  “We ain’t got a barrel of money,” he began to hum to himself.

  “Maybe we’re ragged and funny,” remembering the words,

  Come on sing with me…he invited anyone who would listen.

  “Side by side.”

  Boy am I hot.

  He yanked off his jacket and dropped it beside the picnic bench, then loosened his tie so he could strip it off.

  “Through all kinds of weather”

  His tenor voice increasing in volume, waving the tie in rhythm to the music in his head.

  I feel wonderful, Flinging the tie over to the flower garden.

  He sang a little louder as he untied his shoes.

  “What if the skies should fall?”…

  He kicked off one of his shoes into the center of the yard. then his other shoe landed beside it.

  Boy, I’m still hot! Phew!

  He yanked his shirt off over his head forgetting to undo the buttons...

  “Just as long as we’re together

  He unhooked his belt and striped it off flinging it over to join his shoes

  She left me, I loved her and she left me

  He unzipped his pants… waving his arms around as if conducting a chorus.

  “It doesn’t matter at all”..

  Yes it does matter… I loved her,

  He drops his pants and pulls them off each foot, almost tripping over himself as he bellowed the song at the top of his lungs.

  “We all had our troubles and parted,”

  He wound up the pants and sent them flying into the flower patch at the side of the yard.

  She left me, I dunno why?

  “We’ll be the same as we …”

  Mike Mc Gregor heard the loud singing coming from the back yard. He quietly slid the sider open to see this guy dancing around in his shorts singing at the top of his lungs. Mike doubled up with laughter and whispered to Gina to call Matt.

  Knifey noticed the slider open and saw Mike coming out of the house. Knifey stumbled a little and regaining his balance asks,

  “Hi there whoever you are, do you know this song?”

  Mike, playing along, went over and started singing along with Knifey. He had no idea who the guy was but his instincts kept telling him to keep the guy close. Besides he liked that song and hadn’t sung it for years.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Knifey was still singing his head off behind the bars of the Barnstable County Jail an hour later. He was very vague about his identity and where he came from. Matt had Archie do an internet search.

  “Agent Barker and Agent Cochran here to see you, Sarge.” Williams announced as he stuck his head around the door to Matt’s office.

  “Show them in, Williams, maybe they can help us.”

  Matt stood and offered his hand as the two agents came into the room. Matt motioned for them to be seated as he took his own chair.

  “Our apologies for bothering you, Sargent O’Mara, we are leaving in a few hours. We wanted you to know we are grateful for your assistance in the apprehension of Ardito DiCaprio”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that. You did all the important work. My participation was pure luck being in the right place at the right time. What happens now?” Matt asked, curious.

  “We are extraditing them back to Vegas where they will stand trial. We chartered a private plane from Cape Air. Your Barnstable airport is one of the busiest I have seen for a rural area although not so rural. They were happy to assist us. Seems they think you are a pretty special person. Raved about you as soon as I mentioned your name. Even my credentials didn’t impress them.”

  Embarrassed, Matt changed the subject. “Who are the passengers?”

  “Ardito DiCaprio, Jimmy his bodyguard, three associates with aliases, and one other affectionately called Knifey whose whereabouts are unknown. The chauffeur is driving the Bentley back to Vegas with an FBI Agent.”

  “I think we can help you out with Knifey. Hear that singing? It is our educated guess that he is the man. Seems he was riding a bicycle which he stole from Barnstable High School and was checking out Connie’s house. No idea how he found the box of Better Butter brownies, though. They were on a shelf in a box in the pantry. He did eat a few of them. High as a kite ever since. We will have to tell the girls what happened. Perhaps warn them of the potency. Indica will be pleased to hear that her brownies caught a criminal.” Matt chuckled.

  “What is he singing?”

  “’We Isn’t Got A Barrel of Money’. A song from 1927 written by Harry Woods, FIY, who lived here on Cape Cod until he was drafted into the army during World War One. I had Archie Google it.”

  “We can take him into custody when our plane leaves at 2:30PM. It might be better to leave him here until then. We will send the SWAT team to get him and bring him to the airport. Then they are driving back to Vegas.”

  “So, this ends our involvement in your case?” Matt wanted to know.

  “The case is still not closed. We have yet to locate the money that was taken in that robbery a few months back. That heist was in the trillions. And that is why the Dons wanted Bugsy. Seems they know he masterminded the entire robbery. No trace of the money. The robbery almost bankrupted all five of the casinos. They were doing some shady dealings. That is why we got involved and so did the C.I.A. all undercover of course. I think that is why Bugsy and his ‘friends’ pulled the job. They had been watching some of the deposits the casinos were making that weren’t on the level. Looks like the corruption was deep within the casinos themselves. If we do ever find the money and everything else that was stolen, it will close all five of those casinos down and the people involved will be doing time in San Quentin.”

  “WOW!,” was all Matt could say.

  “You should work for the bureau, you know, Sargent O’Mara. Can I recruit you?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I am quite happy here.” Matt replied surprised and a little embarrassed. “Nice of you to ask, though.”

  “Here’s my card and personal numbers. If you ever change your mind, let me know. Be happy to sponsor you.”

  Archie knocked on the door. “Sarge?”

  “Yes, Corporal?”

  “Seems our prisoner wants some coffee. Okay with you?”

  “Sure, better make it decaf.”

  Agent Barker stood and extended his hand with his card. “Nice doing business with you, Sargent O’Mara.”

  “Likewise, Agent Barker, and thanks again for the offer.”

  “See you around.” He gave a mock salute and left the office, Agent Cochran in his wake. Mat sat back down in his chair, slightly shaken but trying not to let it affect him. Archie knocked and came in.

  “Want some coffee, Sarge, you look a little shaken,” Archie read his boss well, “What happened?”

  “Agent Barker just offered me a job with the F.B.I., Archie.”

  “No Shi—oops, sorry. What are you gonna do about it?”

  “Nothing, Archie, absolutely nothing.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Potts Better Butter Bakery was doing a nice steady breakfast business two days later when the land line rang. Thinking it was another order, Connie motioned to Sativa, “I’ll get it,” Indica was in the kitchen baking some ‘normal’ cookies and a new pastry she wanted to try.

  “Potts Better Butter Bakery, how may we help you?”

  “Connie?” Matt’s voice came over the land line, “Can you come down to the station?”

  “Sure, Matt, what’s wrong? Is the baby all right?”

  “Yes, the baby and Gina are fine. Mike is still there with them. Can’t seem to get
him to take any time off. Anyhow, there is someone here at the station says he has personal business with you. Won’t tell me anything and I wouldn’t give him your address. Figured you were at the bakery working.”

  “He’s not from Vegas, is he? I thought we were through with all that, Matt.”

  “No, he’s from San Francisco, some law firm there. That is all the information he would give me. Came in this morning on the Logan Express from Boston. Can you come?”

  “I’ll tell the girls and be there as soon as I can. Breakfast rush is over.”

  “Bring some cookies if you can, no, just joking.” Matt laughed and said, “See you soon.”

  “I heard, “ Sativa said as she watched Connie hang up the phone.

  “Wonder what this is all about? Haven’t we had enough turmoil and chaos?” Connie’s voice choked with emotion.

  “Probably all a big mistake, Connie,” Sativa tried to console.

  “Will you come with me?”

  “Of course. Let me tell Indica and we can leave.”

  Meanwhile, Matt offered the dignified person from San Francisco a cup of fresh coffee Williams had just made. He accepted with alacrity placing the briefcase he had been clutching to his chest on the chair beside him.

  “Connie will be here in a few minutes, meanwhile want to tell me what this is all about?”

  “I will tell all when she arrives. How long have you known this woman?” the dignified man asked as he sipped the coffee with a sigh. “I took the Red Eye from Frisco last night and I didn’t sleep much so this coffee is heaven sent. Thank you.” He sighed again and sat back in his seat, “I’ve never been this far East before. This place is almost an island, isn’t it.” He partially closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Matt let him snooze and worked on his much needed paperwork.