“Well, let’s get this alfredo sauce going while Sam gets the chicken to Griff.” I pulled the butter, diced garlic, and cream from the fridge. “Sam,” I called to my friend as she carried the platter of chicken breasts toward the sliding glass doors. “I have a special project for you when you come back.”
“Oh boy,” she tossed her head back to look at the ceiling.
“It won’t hurt, I promise.” I laughed at her woe is me expression then focused my attention on BeeBee and the sauce.
Once the butter and garlic were sautéing in the pan, I like garlic in my alfredo though not every recipe uses it, I hunted down some measuring cups. “That woman re-organizes and moves things around more than is good for anyone’s sanity,” I muttered aloud.
BeeBee smothered a chuckle behind her hand.
“Gotcha!” I snatched the liquid measuring cup from a top shelf and handed it to BeeBee. Measure two-thirds of a cup of cream in this. Add it to the pan after the butter is fully melted and starting to bubble. I pointed to the marks delineating each of the measurements on the glass measuring cup and left her to it when I was certain she understood.
Sam returned and I explained my idea.
“These will be either really good, or really terrible,” she mused.
“Since you’re the one baking them, we get to blame you either way,” I reminded her.
She pursed her lips. “Well. I guess I will have to see to it that they are delicious.”
Moving back to the stove, I looked into the saucepan. “Great, stir in a little shake of nutmeg now. Then,” I turned the heat up a fraction, “when the cream all starts to get tiny bubbles on top that means it is simmering. We don’t want it to boil, which would be where it gets rolling, big bubbles.”
“Okay,” BeeBee nodded. “What do I do when I see the little bubbles then?”
“Turn this burner off with this knob,” I pointed. “And slide the pan off the heat. From there, just stir in the parmesan and whisk it all together until melted and creamy.” I started grating the fresh triangular block of parmesan into a bowl. “Oh! You can add a tad bit of salt and pepper, too. For just a bit more flavor.”
BeeBee collected the salt and pepper shakers from the small table and shook a little of each into the saucepan while I set a pot of water to boil, tossing in the tortellini. We both moved out of the way as Sam placed a baking sheet into the oven and set the timer.
“What are those?” BeeBee asked.
“I’ll tell you after you taste them,” I told her before Sam could spoil the surprise.
Griff stepped inside. “Sis, I need something to carry this chicken back inside with.”
Sam placed foil over a tray, grabbed some oven mitts, and went out to help Griff bring in the meat. As the sliced chicken breast arrived in the kitchen, that delicious smoky aroma of the grill filled the room.
My stomach growled, demanding sustenance. I rubbed it. “Just in time.”
BeeBee slid the pan over on the stove, clicking the knob to off. I handed her the bowl of parmesan and she added it a little at a time. Smart. We would make a home cook out of this girl in no time, I smiled, pleased at being able to share my passion for food.
Sam handed a stack of bowls to Griff, grabbing the silverware and napkins herself. They set the table for the four of us, refilling drinks and adding to the comfortable bustle in the kitchen. As the timer went off, I snatched one of the oven mitts from the counter and reached to pull out the savory treats.
“What have we got here?” Griff reached toward the tray and I swatted his hand away.
“Not yet.” I scooted the tray onto the last open spot of the stove. “Everyone has to try them at the same time. They’re new.” I loved having a room full of guinea pigs for a new recipe. The feeling it gave me was similar to that of a kid on Christmas. My spirits dampened only slightly when I remembered the reason for this impromptu gathering: getting to the bottom of BeeBee’s comment about a sister.
In a flurry of final activity, the four of us got the meal put together and on the table. We sat down and Griff offered to ask the blessing. We bowed in prayer as he thanked God for providing the meal and the friends to share it with, our home and safety, jobs to meet our needs, and joy to fill our hearts.
“Amen,” I echoed.
“Now, tell me what these little cookies are, please!” BeeBee passed the plate around, grabbing two for herself.
“Nope. Taste it first,” I insisted. I bit into my own cookie and considered the bite thoughtfully. Sandy, crumbly, loaded with parmesan and a hint of garlic from the garlic powder sprinkled on top.
“Wow!” BeeBee polished off cookie number one right away.
“What are these?” Griff asked, befuddlement clouding his face as he wound his tongue around the roof of his mouth, like when you have peanut butter stuck there.
“Do you like it?” I questioned instead of answering.
“Not sure,” he admitted. “I think I really hoped it was a cookie. Now I’m not sure if I’m just disappointed or if I don’t like it.” He sat the cookie down beside his plate and gulped his drink.
I looked to Sam, waiting for her opinion. “Told you I would make them delicious,” she winked. “Not a bad idea, not a bad idea at all.”
“I’m thinking of calling them Parmesan BisCookies. Instead of a garlic bread or cheese biscuit, I thought parmesan biscuit cookies would be a fun thing to try.” I told them about the idea springing from my conversation with Grandpa Rex. “They probably aren’t for everybody’s taste,” I admitted, “but I’ve been thinking we should add a few more savory options to the menu. It might increase the lunch crowd, or just be a pleasant treat for people who come in with friends but don’t have much of a sweet tooth themselves.” I watched Sam smiling and nodding; I was happy that she thought my suggestion had merit. “Now, let’s eat the rest of this deliciousness.” I spooned a giant serving of pasta and chicken into my bowl.
BeeBee offered to clean up. Griff, knowing what Sam and I had planned, stepped in and insisted he would manage it. “You three go out and catch the sunset. Relax a little. I’ll be done in no time.”
How did I get so lucky? I wondered. A man that didn’t mind helping out. I lingered behind, making a show of refilling my tea glass, as Sam and BeeBee bee-lined for the reclining chairs on the deck.
As the door slid shut behind them, I raised up on my toes and gave Griff a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” I told him.
Arms elbow-deep in dishwater, there wasn’t much he could do but turn his head to me. “If that’s the payment I can expect for cleaning up, you’re about to find your apartment spotless and a bill of debt in your mailbox.” He smirked.
I shook my head but was unable to stop my lips from curling into a wide smile. I left him, assuming that if I didn’t get outside soon, I would miss all the juicy details. Sam had shown admirable patience while I grocery shopped; she wouldn’t put off asking BeeBee questions much longer.
I schooled my grin as I approached. “Thank you both for your help with supper,” I told them as I lowered myself into a cushioned chair.
“I can’t believe the alfredo sauce turned out so good,” BeeBee admitted. “I figured I’d mess it up somehow.”
“You did perfectly,” I assured her.
We sat in silence as minutes ticked by. Waves rolled softly in to stroke the sand on the beach below. The horizon turned a brilliant orange as the sun sank over the water and the ocean reflected the light in rippling waves of color.
“My first memory is of an orphanage,” BeeBee’s voice startled me. “I think I may have been six years old.”
“Honestly, I don’t even know what country I was born in.” She sighed. “It could have been right here in the U.S. or China for all the information I have.”
I remained silent, as did Sam, not wanting to interrupt the flow.
“In my first memory, someone whipped me for hitting a little boy at the orphanage. They beat me until my legs gave out, but I didn
’t cry. I hit the little boy because he bit my baby sister for sticking her tongue out at him. She stuck her tongue out all of the time; she found it hilarious. I loved her; she was all that mattered to me. I knew, even as I collapsed to the floor, that I would hit him or anyone else again if they touched her.”
“How long were you at the orphanage?” I asked.
“Three more years. When I turned nine, a man came and said the orphanage had to be shut down. Noise traveled freely through the thin, cracked walls. I listened to every word.” She stood up and walked to the railing, overlooking the beach. Sam and I followed, but gave her space.
“What happened when they shut the orphanage down?” Sam asked into the stillness.
BeeBee didn’t answer right away. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. When she spoke, I marveled at her ability to shield all emotion from her voice. “He took us. The man who shut the orphanage down. He took all of the children, promised the strict matron that she would never set eyes on us again.” She shook her head, her mouth thinning into a straight line. “I allowed myself to hope the man would take us to a better place. Maybe an orphanage where someone would smile at us, and hug us. I was an idiot.”
“You were a child,” I whispered.
“He took us to a boat. They loaded us into cages like animals. No food, no bathrooms.”
Tears stung my eyes. Sam hugged her arms around her middle, swallowing down whatever she was feeling. I ached, as BeeBee continued the tale in a single, monotone voice, as if reciting a speech. To speak of her past as if it didn’t hurt told all too well the painful blows she had been dealt.
“It could have been days or weeks, I’ve no idea. A few of the children died. I barely stayed awake most days, but I forced myself. I told myself I had to keep watch, had to keep Eva safe.”
Eva. Her baby sister. Oh God, please don’t let this poor girl have watched her sister die. Emotion clogged my throat. I listened helplessly to a story I was afraid I didn’t want to hear.
“Eva cried a lot. I tried to keep her quiet. Her belly hurt, she told me constantly, but I had nothing to feed her. She was seven and I was nine. Somehow, we lived. The ship stopped moving one day, and a new man came down into the hold. He tossed buckets of ice-cold water on us, to wash away the stench he said.” A slight shiver went through her body. “They led us up on deck. It was night. A small group of men and women were there, waiting.”
“Who were they?”
“Buyers.” She said the word with such disgust, still she kept her gaze fixed on the ocean. “Each of us was purchased that night. One woman bought several of us older girls. They tried to take Eva from me. I bit a chunk out of one man’s hand. Two more held me down, but the woman stopped them. I found out later her name was Gina. She changed her mind, told the men that Eva could go with us. I remember feeling so happy, like I won a prize for the first time in my life.” BeeBee drew a deep breath. “I didn’t realize that I had just sealed Eva’s fate as a blackmail piece, a means to keeping me in line.”
The sound of the glass door sliding open made the three of us jump. Griff stepped outside and the spell was broken.
“I’m going to turn in,” BeeBee didn’t wait for a response, merely nodded to Griff as she passed by him and disappeared inside.
CHAPTER 4
I had barely finished brewing a cup of tea from the Keurig Saturday morning when Sam waltzed into the kitchen. I mentally ticked off the date, pulling up a mental image of my calendar; nothing special going on that I could think of. “Dare I say, you look even more dressed-up than normal?” I tilted my head, studying her.
Sam looked down at her outfit and gave a twirl, a feat that should have been impossible at four in the morning wearing four-inch wedge heels. A wispy chiffon material, her dress was a light pink with delicate lace around the skirt and a plunging v-neckline. She looked back up at me and asked “Do you think so?”
Sam wore pantsuits and fancier clothes than anyone in their right mind would wear to work in a bakery on a daily basis; still, this outfit put them all to shame. “Definitely. Though I’m not going to lie to you – the pink kind of clashes with your patriotic hair. What’s the occasion?”
“Why does there have to be an occasion?” Sam asked, her voice raising in pitch.
“There doesn’t have to be. But I know there is, so spill it.”
Sam bumped me out of the way with her hip and began making herself a cup of coffee. I strictly liked tea, finding coffee to have the most terrible aftertaste in the world, but Sam enjoyed both with equal enthusiasm. “I’m helping Landon hunt for a place to live.”
“In Seashell Bay?”
“Yeah. He’s thinking of moving here as soon as his lease is up at the apartment he lives in now. I offered to show him some of the places around here.” Sam closed her eyes and inhaled the steam rising from her coffee mug.
“I see.” I took a sip of tea. “I guess I missed the memo that you’re suddenly a realtor.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Shut up, I thought you would be glad that I offered to help. He’s your friend after all.”
I laughed. “Oh, I’m glad. I just hope you don’t break an ankle wandering up and down apartment complex stairs today in those shoes.”
“Morning.”
We both turned as BeeBee approached from the hall.
“I’m sorry, did we wake you up?” I asked her. BeeBee didn’t have to be at the flower shop with Flo nearly as early as Sam and I had to get to the bakery. Griff had been driving her into town most days.
“No. Didn’t sleep much, to be honest.”
Sam pulled a jug of orange juice out of the fridge and poured a glass for BeeBee.
I watched as BeeBee took several long gulps. Her hair was wadded into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Dark circles showed under her eyes. The poor thing looked wearier than any seventeen-year-old that I’d ever met.
The empty glass clinked on the table. BeeBee declined when Sam offered a refill. “I thought maybe I could ride to work with you today,” she told us. “I can finish telling you about Eva.”
“Of course,” Sam smiled.
“We would love to hear more about your sister,” I agreed. I still felt on the edge of a cliff, hung between wanting to know everything and wanting to be spared the pain of the truth that BeeBee carried.
Minutes later, with a few more topped off mugs of tea and coffee, we all piled into Sam’s SUV. After the wreck at the beginning of the month, the insurance determined her little yellow Juke as a lost cause and totaled it. With the new car, Sam upgraded to something with a little more space yet still sporty enough to suit her, a cherry-red Jeep Renegade.
BeeBee got into the backseat; I climbed into the front. Sam adjusted the AC to combat the warm and muggy morning air.
“What time are you taking Landon on a tour of homes?” I asked.
“After lunch sometime. Gladys is scheduled to work the front this afternoon.” Sam answered. “During lunch I’m going to get the colors stripped from my hair so that I can change it to something new next week.”
“I want to change my hair,” BeeBee piped up from the back. “Regina made me dye it this weird caramel color.”
“What color is your hair naturally?” I asked.
“Very, very dark brown. Eva’s was black.”
Sam nodded, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “Come with me at lunch. I know we can find one of the girls to fit you in.”
“Really?” Her mouth tilted upward.
Sam nodded while I asked, “What color are you going to choose? Natural, or something different?”
“The darkest brown they have, I think.” After a few seconds of thought she added, “But I might put a thin pink streak in it, to remind me of Eva.”
“That’s sweet,” Sam said. We were nearing the turn-off into the main part of town.
“Where did I stop last night?” BeeBee asked.
“The woman, the one who decided to buy Eva and you together.” Even
saying aloud that someone bought children made me cringe.
“That’s right.” BeeBee dropped her gaze to the floorboard, her eyes taking that far off look again. “They gave us showers. Fed us. Set us up in a shared room with lots of other girls, but the beds were soft and the blankets warm. For a time, it seemed things would be okay.” She shook her head ruefully. “Turns out, they just wanted to make sure we were healthy enough to work. At first, we were only made to clean. The work was hard, scrubbing floors, bathrooms, washing load after load of sheets. They taught us a few skills as we got older. Some girls learned to dance. Others, like me, learned massage.” Her voice broke. “The first time I refused to finish a massage for a client was the first time they beat Eva.” BeeBee drew a shaky breath. When she spoke, steel reverberated from her tone. “I decided then that I had to get her away. If I could escape with her I would, but all that mattered was that Eva be far away from those evil people.”
Sam pulled up into the parking lot behind the Ooey Gooey Goodness Bakery. The drive which normally felt long from the beach had flown by. Silence reigned as Sam killed the engine.
“Let’s take a break and find some cookies. Then you can tell us the rest if you feel like it,” I suggested to BeeBee. She gave a nod and opened the door. Sam and I shared a pained look. “I know,” I said first. “Some people should just be shot.”
“Or drawn and quartered,” she said. “Children, Piper. They were children.”
“Come on.” I whipped my key from my pocket and we caught up with BeeBee at the back door. I flipped on the light switch and made my way to the cookie jar where we kept a few cookies back for ourselves, always adding in the leftovers from the display case at night. Sam brought over a napkin and I piled on several Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies. She sat down with BeeBee at the table while I pre-heated the oven and pulled dough from the walk-in fridge. We worked and nibbled in quiet until several batches of cookies were baking.
“I got her out.”
BeeBee’s statement caused me to freeze, cookie halfway to my mouth. I placed it on the napkin, dusting off my hands. “That’s amazing!” I said.
Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set Page 48