Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set

by Katherine H Brown

  I pointed at Sam. “The look that says Sam just found the perfect excuse for an impromptu shopping spree.”

  No amount of protests would change her mind, a fact that I already knew and BeeBee soon learned.

  “Thank goodness this outlet mall was on the way home,” Sam maneuvered the small car into a tight parking spot right near the entrance to a clothing store.

  “Yes, thank goodness,” I said sarcastically, throwing in an eye-roll for good measure.

  BeeBee got out and stretched her legs.

  “Kind of cramped back there,” Sam admitted. “Sorry about that.”

  “No worries, I’ve been in worse.” BeeBee walked over to the sidewalk, leaving Sam and me to look at each other and wonder over that remark.

  “Now, I really don’t need much,” BeeBee insisted as she held the door open for Sam and me to enter the store. “I’ll buy more after I have a job for a while.”

  I shook my head. It was useless. This girl was about to get an entirely new wardrobe and Sam would love every minute of it; I knew this from experience the first time I let her take me shopping in college. I think I still had clothes in my closet from that trip that I hadn’t worn yet.

  “What kind of clothes do you like?” Sam asked. “Dresses, skirts, sporty, casual, colorful, dark?”

  BeeBee’s eyes bulged.

  “Why don’t we take it slow,” I nudged Sam in the ribs. “She needs some pants and some t-shirts for work. How about we start with those?”

  “You’re no fun,” Sam grouched.

  We made our way to the Junior’s section of clothing and after a few moments BeeBee was swept up in Sam’s excitement; they pulled out several shirts and two pairs of jeans for BeeBee to try on.

  “Do you have a favorite color?” Sam asked BeeBee.

  “Umm, light purple,” BeeBee said from the other side of the dressing room door.

  I selected a couple more shirts, in various shades of purple, and added them to the pile.

  Each time that BeeBee emerged from the dressing room, her smile had grown bigger than the last. Before long she was laughing and posing as we clapped or booed. We each picked out our favorite shirt on her, and Sam made BeeBee choose three more that she liked to purchase as well. A mixture of pinks, purples, and maroons mostly, one shirt was a hit with all of us. It was a pastel pink color with a swirling cloud of butterflies on the back; the front had one bigger butterfly resting on the corner of the first letter of the words Just when the caterpillar thought the world was ending, it became a butterfly.

  “Next stop, cute and fun clothes.” Sam led the way next door into a more fashionable, upscale boutique.

  Sam insisted BeeBee find at least three outfits in this store, and decided that she and I should shop for a new one, too. “Since we’re already here,” she reasoned.

  While we wondered to and from the racks and the dressing room, BeeBee asked, “Why is it Sam said you don’t need to stay alone right now?”

  “Some people connected to Asnee have been after me,” I explained the happenings of the last few days. “You don’t happen to know what that guy’s name might be, do you?” I asked at the end as we went into separate stalls to try on a few more clothes.

  BeeBee did not know, and I stifled a sigh of disappointment. Bummer. It would have been great if she did, or better yet if she had an address that we could turn over to the police. Then again, I was also relieved. The last thing I wanted was for her to be dragged into any more of this mess; she had lived with it clouding her life for long enough.

  “It’s perfect!” Sam’s elated squeal came from a door or two over. “Piper, BeeBee, what do you think?”

  I peeked my head out of my own stall. A door opened on the end and Sam twirled her way over, stopping in front of me. She wore a red and white striped dress with a fitted bodice and wide skirt that stopped right above her knees. The back, I saw when she spun, had a large triangular cutout.

  “For the Independence Day Parade,” she told us.

  “You look beautiful.” It was the truth, though she always did. “The dress is fun and casual and you’ll stay cool if the weather is as hot as it promises to be,” I nodded, affirming her decision. That’s what shopping with friends is for, after all.

  “What did you two find?” she asked.

  BeeBee came out of the room next to me. She wore a floor-length navy maxi dress with shooting stars across the skirt.

  Sam clapped. “Gorgeous,” she pulled BeeBee to her side and clicked a few selfies.

  “Your turn,” Sam crooked a finger at me and beckoned.

  “I’m not sure,” I showed the girls the two outfits I couldn’t choose between.

  Sam waved a hand. “Get them both,” she said. “The square-necked blouse and capris will be perfect for the parade. The sundress, on the other hand, you can wear tonight for the news interview and your date with Griff.”

  I looked back at the mirror, at the tie-dye blue and white dress that I wore; it had short sleeves which would cover my stitches. The bottom was a hi-low cut and the top was a conservative round neck.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  After a quick stop for shoes, only BeeBee this time, Sam called it quits on the shopping.

  “Wow! That was a lot of shopping,” BeeBee murmured to me. “I think I might be dizzy from all the dressing rooms.”

  “You should count yourself lucky that we were on a time crunch today. We spent less than two hours at the mall. Sam could do this for an entire weekend straight.”

  BeeBee’s jaw dropped. I nodded that it was true and slid into the car laughing.

  Nearly another hour later, BeeBee was fast asleep, sprawled across the backseat. I had a book pulled up on my phone, reading to pass the time when Sam reached over and tapped my arm.

  “Huh?”

  “I think that car back there is following us,” Sam lifted her eyes to the rearview mirror, keeping her voice low.

  I checked the side view mirror on my side of the car. I could barely make out a dark-colored vehicle about two car lengths behind us. “What makes you think that?” I whispered. “They seem pretty far back to me.”

  “That’s why it is odd. I’ve been going ten miles per hour under the speed limit for about half an hour. Everyone and their dog has passed me, but not that car; they just hang tight.” She pressed the gas pedal. “Watch this.”

  Sure enough, the car behind us sped up as well, maintaining enough distance that I couldn’t read the license plate numbers, but staying close enough that if Sam turned off the windy coastal road, they would know.

  “Slow back down,” I suggested, “but this time go way under the speed limit. Surely then they will have no choice but to pass us.”

  Sam nodded and backed off the gas pedal again, letting the car slow naturally as we coasted up a small hill, rather than tapping the breaks. For a moment, it seemed the plan hadn’t worked. The dark car behind us slowed to a crawl.

  “Oh good!” Sam said as the car sped up and gained on us. “It looks like they are going to pass us after all.”

  I watched in my mirror. “And they aren’t the only ones,” I noted as the dark car pulled into the oncoming lane to go around us. “Must have been blocking traffic behind them because this guy is speeding.” A second car was closing in fast to our bumper.

  Crunch!

  Before we realized what was happening, the dark car swerved into the driver’s side of Sam’s Juke again. Crash!

  BeeBee screamed, jerked awake, but thankfully still buckled in.

  I watched in horror as Sam’s head banged against the window and her hands slipped from the wheel. The black car sped away as I flailed desperately to grab the wheel and keep us on the shoulder of the road rather than careening into the ditch. Thank God - Sam’s foot must have come off of the gas pedal as well, or the car died, because after what felt like the most terrifying years of my life, and which equated probably a single hot minute, the car coasted to a stop. I didn’t care why or how; I
was simply grateful.

  “BeeBee,” I yelled frantically. “Call 911. I have to get Sam.” I scrambled to unbuckle my seatbelt but my shaking hands weren’t cooperating. As I leaned over the buckle, pleading with it to let go, I noticed movement. The car behind us had pulled over. Thank goodness! They must have witnessed the accident.

  As my buckle finally released, I breathed a sigh of relief. It would be fine. I got on my knees and worked to unbuckle Sam’s seatbelt. She remained slumped against the door.

  I could hear BeeBee talking to dispatch on her cell phone.

  “Piper, where are we?” she asked through tears.

  Shoot, she was sleeping and has no clue where we are at. I rattled off the last road signs I had noticed to BeeBee and continued to peal the seatbelt away from Sam. Odd that the airbags hadn’t gone off, but maybe for the best as I wouldn’t have been able to reach her as easily.

  The slam of a car door pulled my attention from Sam for a second. I looked through the back glass and fear rippled through me. Our good Samaritan wasn’t so good, after all.

  Chapter 15

  “They’re sending an ambulance,” BeeBee said.

  “BeeBee,” I looked to the frightened girl. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head while looking down at her arms and legs. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Good,” I told her. “Now listen and don’t talk.” She nodded and I continued. “I need you to duck down low, fold down that seat and crawl into the trunk. Now,” I demanded when she seemed about to argue.

  “That man we told you about, he’s coming up to the car. Get out of sight, now.” I whispered harshly.

  “Sam,” I tried to gently shake my friend. The only thing keeping me remotely sane at the moment was that I could see her chest rising and falling, her breathing steady. That was good. Now I just had to keep it that way.

  I watched as BeeBee closed herself into the trunk as instructed.

  I warred with myself between the need to see where the tattooed man was now and pretending to be oblivious to his presence and buy more time; I thought that he was the type to want to gloat and be sure I knew he won, so I opted to keep my head down and actions focused on Sam. Her eyelids fluttered open, then closed again. I choked back a sob.

  “Please, please, please,” I uttered my desperate prayer over and over, no words could contain my emotion, no eloquence convey my need. God knew, and I prayed with all my heart.

  I chanced a peek and caught sight of the man stealing up behind the car, almost to the back door. My stomach dropped. Before I could decide what to do, the most beautiful sound reached my ears: sirens!

  Real sirens. Not the panic button, not a ringtone; actual sirens attached to an official vehicle of some sort blared.

  The man bolted to his running car and pulled a U-turn, tires screaming, as a lone State Trooper screeched to a stop next to our wrecked vehicle. I could hear the officer relaying information over his radio even as he approached the ditch and my side of the car.

  I fought as he tried to pull me out; I tried to make him understand that I needed to get Sam. At last his voice, his rational instructions, his demand that I do not do anything to make her worse broke through the panicked fog of my brain. I allowed him to help me out of the vehicle so that he could see to Sam but refused to sit down. I let the backseat down and helped BeeBee out of the car, hugging her close as we cried silent tears.

  If the officer were surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he continued the ministrations he was doing for Sam. He had brought a small emergency kit and first carefully bandaged her head where there was a small gash. I heard him saying there wasn’t a lot of bleeding and tuned back into the conversation.

  “The ambulance is less than two minutes out,” he told me. “I was four minutes away when the call came over dispatch. You’re lucky, this is a long stretch of road between towns.”

  I nodded. He didn’t know the half of it.

  “My phone, can I get my phone?” I asked minutes later as two EMT’s rolled Sam into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher. She had woken briefly two more times but was unable to stay awake. I needed to call Griff. He had to know, had to meet us at the hospital.

  The trooper, I hadn’t yet managed to retain his name in the chaos of my brain, obliged. He pulled the phone from the floorboard and handed it over. BeeBee and I climbed into the ambulance with Sam and the paramedics.

  The trooper had, kindly, offered to take us in his car. I had, not so kindly, informed him he could arrest me or shoot me, maybe both, but otherwise, I wasn’t leaving her side. BeeBee latched onto my arm and nodded, so the officer spoke to the paramedics and soon we were on the road.

  ~

  By the time we arrived at the hospital in Seashell Bay, which we had been about forty-five minutes away by car and twenty-five minutes by ambulance, I was crying again. Happy tears this time. Sam had regained consciousness soon after the ambulance doors shut. She remained disoriented and the paramedic warned me not to bother her, so I simply sat, content to hold her hand on one side, BeeBee’s on the other.

  When the ambulance doors opened and I spotted Griff walking toward us, strong, resolute, and confident, it was everything I needed. He reached for me and I fell right into his arms, my knees giving out. “She woke up,” I clung to him. “She woke up, Griff.”

  Holding me tight, Griff smoothed strands of sweaty, tear-soaked hair out of my face. “And she will be fine,” he said.

  I nodded, soothed by his calm. I took a deep breath. Pine and leather scents filled my nostrils and I basked in the smell of him. I inhaled again, erasing from my nose and mind the scent of metal, hot roads, dirt, and antiseptic. My head cleared and I dried my eyes with the backs of my hands. Griff’s right. Sam will be okay.

  All three of us, Sam, BeeBee, and I, were admitted to the hospital right away. Griff appeared torn, but I had calmed. The adrenaline had coursed its way through my system, leaving me tired, but capable of taking care of myself. “Go,” I told him. “Go with Sam. I’ll find you both in a minute.”

  He gave a slight head shake and the merest hint of a smile. “You better,” he joked. The determined expression resumed, mouth set and eyes narrowed. He squeezed my hand and took off after the stretcher, long strides bringing him up beside it in no time where he began to quiz the staff rolling her down the hall.

  The nurse allowed BeeBee and I to wait together in a curtained off “room” – I guess walls were getting too expensive – and a doctor came in a scant ten minutes later. I had a seatbelt burn across my chest and some bruising on my elbow. BeeBee sported a large bruise across her stomach since she had been laying down with only the lap belt on.

  After much poking and prodding, and insistence from the two of us that we were fine, the doctor released us with a warning to stock up on some over the counter pain meds. “The soreness tomorrow may surprise you,” he told us. “Drink lots of water and take something for the inflammation.”

  We dressed quickly back into our clothes and tossed the hospital gowns into a corner. Swinging the curtain open, I tried to orient myself. Which way to the front desk?

  “Lowe,” a voice screeched. “Not ‘low’, Lowe – L – O – W – E. It isn’t that hard.”

  My mood deflated faster than a balloon with a hole in it. Deidra. Throwing a fit because someone spelled her last name wrong even though it was an understandable mistake since the words sounded exactly alike.

  I motioned BeeBee to follow me and allowed myself to be guided by the sound of general disbelief at the incompetence of regular people. “Is there not someone here whose job is to escort me to my daughter? Do you expect me to wander around this place and hope that I make it to her room in time to see her before something terrible happens?” a sharp rap sounded as she slapped the countertop.

  That woman was a menace, had never worked a day in her life, and probably couldn’t read a hospital floor chart unless it was clearly marked with a trail of diamonds. I watched as the poor
unfortunate soul in scrubs nearest her was wrangled into service.

  “Mitch, please escort Mrs. LOWE,” the nurse at the desk emphasized the name slowly, “to room number 118 in ICU.”

  “Who is that?” BeeBee asked as I stalked quietly behind them.

  “Sam’s dear mother,” I answered.

  “Yikes.”

  “Exactly.” I nodded. “If Sam didn’t have a headache before, she will now.”

  Sam did, of course, already have a headache. Deidra pushed Griff aside, completely ignoring the nurse who had brought her to the room and rushed to Sam as if she might never see her again. It would have been touching if that woman had ever been sincere in her affections for her children in her life.

  I swallowed my disgust and slipped in to whisper to Griff. “So?”

  “So.” He rubbed the back of his neck in that way he does when he’s worried or frustrated. “So far, she’s got a few spots in her vision and a killer headache. Until a little more of the swelling goes down, the doctor says that Sam has to stay in the hospital.”

  My hand went to my throat as my heart ached for my friend. Guilt gnawed at me. If I hadn’t been with her, this never would have happened. Wait a minute!

  “Griff, how did they find me? Us? In the middle of the highway, between towns? In Sam’s car, not my truck?” I shook my head. It was too much. “I have to go. I have to get ahold of Sheriff Kent. I’m going to that impound lot to look at that car.”

  Chapter 16

  At five, Sheriff Kent picked BeeBee and me up at the hospital. He wasn’t too pleased about it, but then he hadn’t been pleased when I told him a taxi could get me to the impound lot all by myself just as easily. He decided to take me himself and make sure trouble didn’t find me again. BeeBee came along because we both thought that being with the sheriff should keep us pretty safe. Or safer. At least, I hoped so.

  The black gate, sprinkled liberally with rust, swung to the inside with a series of clinks and groans as if the wheels were tired of supported the long metal and wire structure. Inch by slow-moving inch, Sheriff Kent drove the car in following the progress of the gate.