Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set

by Katherine H Brown

  “Only the Lord knows.” Sam winked. “You better not tell her you saw it the same color twice, or she might get her hopes up that I’m ‘growing to be sensible at last.’”

  We all three laughed. Deidra, who also happened to be the town’s first lady, still wore pearls, heels, and suit dresses every day of her life. She was appalled that her only daughter wore gaudy hair colors and less conservative outfits. Don’t even get me started on how stricken she was when she learned Sam and I were opening the Ooey-Gooey Goodness Bakery. Needless to say, it hadn’t helped an already strained mother-daughter relationship.

  “Pastor Dan, have you met Millie?” Sam asked as she gestured Millie to come forward.

  “I don’t believe so. A pleasure to meet you, young lady. Are you working here, too?”

  “For a little while.” Millie’s blonde hair bounced with her energy as she nodded. “Piper and Sam are letting me clean and manage supplies for the weekend since they will be gone. My friend and I are going to buy electric scooters.”

  “Oh? Had such a blast at the spa, you ladies can’t stay away?” the pastor asked Sam and me merrily.

  “If only.” Sam smiled.

  Personally, I wasn’t quite ready to go back to the place where snakes slithered in, steam room doors stuck shut, and a loony lady kidnapped me all in the same weekend. Though the pedicure was magnificent, I caught myself thinking.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Sam and I have been invited to cater a corporate wellness event for Breaking Chains.”

  “That’s magnificent! Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It is going to be a lot of work, but when I think of the things the employees of Breaking Chains must see, the cruel and dirty reality of human trafficking, the abused children, the hopeless victims—well, it will be a joy to bring them a little bit of goodness in return.”

  “I only wish we could do more,” Sam added. “Still, it is an honor they chose the Ooey-Gooey Bakery since our business is so new. Wish us luck.”

  “You don’t need luck, Sam. You and Piper will be blessed as you are a blessing to others. And remember, when possible, refresh the people you meet with more than refreshments.” Pastor Dan took his leave on those words of wisdom, waving to the three of us as he headed home to the missus with a sack of Lemon Basils.

  “He seemed nice,” Millie noted. “What is Breaking Chains, by the way?”

  Sam told Millie about the goal of Breaking Chains to raise awareness of human trafficking and prevent it by educating the public on signs to look for and providing support to law enforcement when requested, such as victim relief counseling and advocates when victims were identified.

  The bell jingled, marking the entrance of another customer. Flo again. Odd, I thought.

  I left the counter to speak with Flo. She had halted just inside the door and seemed unable to make up her mind about coming in or not.

  “Hey, Flo,” I spoke casually, worried she might bolt for some reason. “I hope nothing was wrong with your order?”

  “No, nothing wrong. Look, Piper, I…”

  “Would you like to sit down with a coffee or something?” I asked as her words dried up.

  “No, thank you. I just need to say this.” She took a breath. I braced myself. Were insults headed my way? More accusations that Sam’s parents influenced our fundraising win? I sincerely hoped this wouldn’t be a subject of contention forever.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I stood there, hearing her words but not fully processing them.

  “I’m sorry,” Flo apologized again. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you and Sam after the contest.”

  “Oh! Flo, it’s okay.” I brushed off the apology but stopped when Flo held up a hand.

  “I was jealous,” Flo continued. “And it is not okay. I really wanted to win that trip to the spa because I’ve been having these back pains lately. I hoped a massage would help, but I really can’t afford to go get one because sales have been slow. I’m sorry for being so petty. It truly is wonderful the money your bakery raised, that all of our businesses raised, really, and I hope you and Sam will forgive me.”

  “Of course, we forgive you!” I stepped forward and hugged Flo, surprising us both. Not usually a hugger, I decided to blame it on Nora’s and Pastor Dan’s kind influence.

  “I’d like to continue my weekly scone order, though maybe just one would be better for me,” Flo added.

  “Great, we will bring you a fresh scone tomorrow morning.” I smiled.

  “Thanks. I better get back to the shop.” Flo turned to leave. “Would be a shame to miss a customer, you know.”

  I watched Flo walk the short length of the sidewalk and enter her shop next door, pondering her problem. She seemed really worried about business being down. I wondered if there was some way that we could help her. Lost in thought, I didn’t realize that Sam had set Millie to another task and sidled up next to me.

  “What was that all about?” Sam asked, making me jump.

  “Flo stopped by to apologize. She wants to resume ordering baked goods, though she said just one scone instead of her normal three will do.”

  “To apologize for what? For not placing orders after we won the contest?”

  “For the attitude behind it, really. She says she was jealous and angry.” I reiterated the short conversation with Sam, including Flo’s low sales and inability to afford a massage for her pain.

  “Poor Flo!” Sam’s big heart showed immediately. “I wish she had asked for help, I’m sure I could have spoken to someone at the spa for her. Pastor Dan might have even recommended they get her in for an appointment half-price as a contest participant.”

  “I didn’t think of that,” I admitted. “I wondered more along the lines of what we could do now to help boost the flower shop sales.”

  “Hmm. I guess all of the spring weddings are over. Besides a few birthdays and anniversaries, what might people order flowers for in the summer?”

  “Good question.”

  Before we could continue that train of thought, it was derailed by a squeal and a yell.

  “Piper! OMG, Piper,” Victoria squealed with her head peeking out of the door to the kitchen. “Hurry!”

  Oh gosh, not more flour everywhere, I thought. Yikes! Or worse, what if the kitchen flooded or the oven caught fire? Scenario after scenario flashed through my brain as I sprinted to the kitchen. I cast my eyes around and saw—nothing. No flour, no water, no smoke.

  “What? What is it?” I asked, tamping down the panic in my chest.

  “They’re perfect!” Victoria exclaimed.

  “What?” I repeated.

  “The cookies. Try them.” She held out a sheet pan. “They turned out better than I expected.”

  Cookies. She was yelling about cookies. Whew, okay, good deal. I mentally shrugged, knowing I would do the same thing. I snagged a cookie from the tray and bit off a mouthful. I closed my eyes as I traced each flavor flitting across my tongue.

  “Peanut butter, oats, butterscotch, chocolate. Wow!” I ticked them off out loud. Opening my eyes, I saw Victoria doing a silent little dance. I gently took the cookie tray from her. “Wouldn’t want your beautiful creation to go flying,” I pointed out, moving the tray to the counter. She stood grinning back at me.

  “Do you really like them?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Tell me about them.”

  Chapter 8

  Friday.

  The day before the weekend catering event.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my cargo pants and blew a stray strand of hair from my face. Most of this week had passed in a busy blur. Sam and I continued to work with Victoria and Millie. I was confident the girls knew what they were doing and, with the help of Gladys, could manage the bakery Saturday and Sunday while we were gone. Gladys did need to leave early quite often, and she asked if she could continue to let the girls close up over the weekend. When pressed, she simply mentioned more cooking to do and left it at that.


  “Let’s go over the menu,” Sam pulled out a chair and sat down. I joined her at the round table. It wasn’t quite time to open yet, still a little early in the morning.

  “Okay, first up, assorted breakfast pastries.” I pulled out a notepad from my apron pocket and tucked a loose hair behind my ear.

  “Scones!” Sam started enthusiastically listing items one by one. “Blueberry Scones, Dark Chocolate Chip and Walnut Scones, Honey Scones…”

  “Do you think we should do a Walnut Butterscotch Drizzle Scone?”

  “Definitely. Those crescents were to die for—a scone is bound to be good, too.”

  “We should probably do some savory.” I chewed on my pen. “Bacon Cheddar Scones?”

  “Good idea.” Sam nodded. “Sausage, Feta, and Spinach Scones.”

  “What is next after scones?”

  “How about tarts?”

  “Yum. We could do several tarts made with cream cheese and fruits like blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, maybe even pineapple.”

  “What about the Donut Hole Clusters?”

  “Yes, those are a must! Let me think…oh, I’ve got it! Personal Pancakes.”

  “What are those?” Sam tilted her head to the side.

  “A stack of two or three pancakes that are small but made-to-order fresh,” I told her. “We can put anything they want in the pancakes—oats, chocolate chips, blueberries, sprinkles, nuts, whatever we have on hand.”

  “I love it!” Sam smiled. “And now I want you to make pancakes for me tomorrow, too.”

  “Breakfast is covered then. Now, on to snacks and dessert.”

  “Cookies.”

  I hung my head. “We are going to have to be more specific than that, Sam,” I said sarcastically as I looked back up at her.

  She grinned and shrugged. “Lots of cookies.”

  “Geez, thanks.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll start. Triple Chocolate Cookies, Pecan Pie Cookies, Peanut Butter Cookies.”

  “Okay, okay. Big Butterscotch Cookies, Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies.”

  I scribbled hastily, trying to get them all written down as we continued. “Goodness, I hope I can read this when we are through. Monster Cookies, Walnut Dark Chocolate Cookies…surely that is enough?”

  We added several pies to the list, including a Watermelon Pie, before deciding the time had come to open the café for the day.

  “Do you think we need to buy the ingredients today?”

  “The woman I spoke to said that the kitchen should be stocked with the basics,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Why don’t we take some fruit that Victoria won’t be needing for the bakery and then make a list of what else to buy after we get there this evening?”

  “That works for me.” I flipped the sign on the door to open and went to the display case to find a scone for Flo. “I can’t remember if Flo asked for a particular flavor. What do you think?”

  “Take her a blueberry one. Blueberries boost brain power, who knows, maybe it will give her some extra-creative ideas for flower arrangements today.”

  I delivered the Blueberry Scone to Flo and bumped into Gladys as I returned to the bakery. “Good morning,” I greeted her as we entered.

  “Good morning, Piper. Shouldn’t you girls be packing for your trip?” she asked me with a pat on my arm.

  “Probably,” I admitted. “We wanted to help Victoria and Millie open one last time though and see if they had any questions.”

  “You don’t know how to take a break is more like it.” Gladys shook her head.

  I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out; I wasn’t sure Gladys would put up with the rude gesture as much as Sam did.

  “Sam, Gladys is kicking us out,” I joked when we joined her at the counter.

  “What? Why? When? From here?” She bobbed her head between the two of us, waiting for the punchline.

  “Yes, from here, right now. She says we need to go get ready for the job this weekend. Really,” I added in a mock whisper, “I think she’s just ready to start the taste-testing and needs us out of the way.”

  “Can’t say I blame her.” Sam laughed. “Okay, Gladys,” she came around and gave her a hug, “we will get out of your hair. Please, call us if you or the girls have any problems.”

  “Yes, we really appreciate you babysitting the bakery, but please don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything,” I agreed.

  “Shoo. Get on with you two, we’ll be just fine,” Gladys said, flapping her arms at us.

  I sure hope everything goes well, I thought after telling Victoria and Millie bye and heading out the kitchen door to the parking lot in the back. “I’ll pick you up in about an hour and a half?” I asked Sam, double-checking the arrangements we had made.

  “Yes. I’ll see you then.” She nodded as she slid into her yellow Juke.

  I climbed up in my truck and smiled at the engine’s growl when I cranked it. When I first learned to drive as a teenager, my parents insisted on putting me in a truck and not some small vehicle. As a doctor and nurse at the time, they had seen too many car accident victims and felt that I had a better chance of coming out of any fender bender or mild wreck unharmed if I were driving a larger vehicle. I had argued fiercely against it. Doctors’ kids on tv drove convertibles and sports cars. “It’s so unfair,” I had insisted. The joke was on me. I was hooked from the moment I stepped up into the cab. I felt big, important, powerful. Driving, I sat above half the other cars on the road. People got out of my way. I loved it and have never driven anything but a truck since.

  I pulled up at my apartment complex a scant six minutes later. I needed to pack and look up directions to Lion’s Cove, specifically The Cove’s Cabins at Lion’s Cove where the wellness retreat would be held. Inside my cozy one-bedroom apartment, I dropped my keys into the bowl on the side table in the foyer and made a beeline to the kitchen for a glass of water. And groaned. The kitchen was a mess. I left in such a hurry this morning that I didn’t clean up the dishes from breakfast.

  Grabbing the glass bowl off the counter, I attempted to use the spray nozzle to loosen the dried bits of butterscotch now hardened to the sides. Crumpling the parchment paper up as I snatched it from the sheet pan, I tossed it at the trash…and missed. Sigh. I picked it up and threw it away. Dishwasher running, check, I mentally congratulated myself as I walked from the kitchen to my bedroom. Closet, here I come.

  Relieved that I didn’t need to fret quite so much over outfits for this trip (choosing outfits for the spa had been foreign territory for me), I grabbed two pairs of cargo pants. I chose a heather gray and a teal t-shirt with the Ooey-Gooey Goodness logo, the bakery’s name stamped over a broken cookie dripping with fat chocolate chips. I folded the shirts into small squares to toss in my duffle.

  Before I got to the other necessities, my cell phone rang. I could barely hear it from the entry where I had left it. Sprinting to the front of my apartment—thank goodness it was small—I hit answer on the last ring.

  “Hello,” I said.

  Static crackled through the line.

  “Hello? Hello?” I tried again.

  “Piper…me…is Landon…” The voice cut in and out as the static continued. “…see you…line…weekend.”

  “Landon, what? I can’t hear you.”

  “Piper? Pi…?”

  “Landon? Are you there?” The silence continued. I hung up the phone. “Well, that was odd,” I spoke aloud. Tapping the yellow button for my call log, I hit recent and tapped the number on the screen. Saving the new number as Landon in my address book, I slipped the phone in my pocket, keeping it close in case he called again.

  It took no time at all to finish packing pajamas, underwear, toiletries, extra socks, and so on. Zipping my bag closed, I took one more look around the room. Satisfied I hadn’t forgotten anything, I slung the bag over my shoulder, set the thermostat so it wouldn’t kick on so often over the next couple of days, fished my keys out of the bowl, and locked up.

  Chapter 9

/>   The drive to pick up Sam passed pleasantly. I rolled the windows down and shut off the radio, simply enjoying the salty breeze playing with my hair and listening to the waves lap the shore. Unlike my apartment close to town, Sam lived in a duplex right on the beach. Sometimes I wanted to find my own place near the water, but it wasn’t in my budget right now. Besides, I grinned to myself as I pulled into the second spot of the garage on Sam’s side, it’s not like I don’t spend the majority of my weekends here for free anyway, why pay rent on an expensive place?

  I noticed the garage door for the other half of the duplex was shut tight. Griff must still be away on business. The duplex, weathered and sporting a chipped baby blue siding, had been a gift to Griff and Sam when their father got elected mayor. Deidra insisted that she and Gregory could no longer live in this “quaint starter home” if they wanted to be taken seriously as leaders of the town. Gregory Lowe had purchased the entire duplex outright and given it to Griff as a college graduation present, on the conditions that Sam would be given the other half of the living space and it would not be rented out to anyone else. I had been surprised either Griff or Sam had accepted the home as a gift.

  “Well, Griff saw it as a blessing,” Sam told me once when I asked her about it. “He says this way he is able to save up more for a home and family in the future. I wasn’t crazy about it at first, but it makes it easier to pour money into the bakery and still put a good portion aside, too. Plus, I love being near the ocean. How could I say no to that?”

  Now, as I walked up the eight wooden steps to knock on Sam’s door, I was definitely glad for the gift house. I considered it my home away from home, besides the bakery, of course.

  By the time I reached the top step, Sam had the door open. “I heard you pull up,” she greeted. “Did you google the directions?”

  “Yes, it will take about three and a half hours to get there.”

  “Wow, Lion’s Cove is further away than I thought.”