by K. J. Emrick
Cream bared his teeth. Then he stopped and sniffed the air.
Hefting the umbrella over her shoulder in a two-handed grip like a baseball bat, Cookie stepped slowly into the bakery.
There was something eerie about seeing the place like this. Usually being in the bakery at night was peaceful. Tonight, every shadow seemed threatening. The hum of the refrigeration units sounded ominous. The dim lighting from the exit signs somehow made it harder for her to see.
Then movement caught her eye. The intruder was standing behind the counter. He was half turned away from Cookie. She could tell now that he was a man, but couldn’t tell much about him as he hunkered in the shadows.
With a loud ding and the rattle of coins, the drawer popped out.
Now that her eyes had time to adjust, she could see him better. He was hunched over the register, his hands pushing through the neat piles of bills. He looked enormous, bigger than life, and certainly not someone she would have chosen to tangle with in the dark.
Cookie hesitated. What was she doing? Was this her idea of not getting involved in situations?
Then the intruder looked up, in the direction of the upstairs apartment.
Where her granddaughter was at this very moment.
Her lips pressed together in a tight line as resolve moved her forward. No way was this man going to get anywhere near her granddaughter. She was rushing toward him before she realized it, umbrella held high, a scream bursting out of her throat. The umbrella came down, and then again, and again.
The intruder buckled under her attack. Money flew everywhere across the floor. He was on his knees, and she was just about to give him such a whack with the umbrella that it would have snapped in two and then she would have had to run for her life… when the lights came on.
“Grandma, stop!”
Against Cookie’s wishes, she saw that Clarissa had come downstairs, and now was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand up at her chest, the other stretching out as if she was trying to stop what was happening. Cream was bouncing on his front paws nearby, sniffing the air, not sure whether to bark up a storm or run in and help Cookie defend their home.
Clarissa’s expression was frantic. Something had her terribly upset, and somehow Cookie could tell that she wasn’t the focus of her granddaughter’s concern.
Pulling back the umbrella, keeping it cocked over her shoulder in case she needed to use it again, she looked down at the man who had been stealing from her bakery, now huddled at her feet on the floor.
Her heart sank.
“Hamish?” she whispered in disbelief.
Clarissa’s fiancé looked up at her, his arms still over his head to protect himself, and tried for a smile.
“Actually,” he said, “I go by Rick now.”
Chapter 5
Cookie wouldn’t have recognized him.
Maybe Cream did. Maybe that’s why he was so hesitant earlier, trying to bark but knowing he shouldn’t. Sniffing the air instead of running in to help. With his doggie senses he would have known who this intruder was, even though Cookie hadn’t.
Rick was sitting at a table in her bakery now, smiling and spinning a tale of how everything was fine between him and Clarissa. Even now, with the lights on, Cookie had trouble matching up the lean, wolfish-faced person sitting in front of her with the handsome young man that she used to know Hamish Carpenter to be. Or rather Rick Carpenter, as he kept reminding her.
More than just his name had changed. In the darkness he’d seemed huge but now she knew that had been just an oversized hoodie that hid the fact he’d dropped more weight than would ever be considered healthy. His cheeks were sunken under a scraggly growth of stubble, making the line of his jaw appear more prominent than it was. His hands, which had been so agile and quick, now had a tremor that he couldn’t hide even when they were wrapped around the mug of coffee that she’d brewed for him. The scraggly growth of stubble needed a shave. His dark hair was unkempt.
The eyes were the biggest change as far as Cookie could see. The last time she’d seen him, there had been life in those eyes. Hope and humor. Now they were shadowed and hollow.
He and Clarissa were sitting side by side. Cookie stood across from them and listened to them tell her the whole story that Clarissa had already told her, all over again. The tale left her unsatisfied, like a lunch that was light on the meat and heavy on the fluff. She could tell there was any number of things that they weren’t telling her. Rick spoke, and Clarissa agreed with anything he said, and the words just kept coming.
She had called back to explain to Hamlin that she’d made a mistake, and the intruder was actually someone she knew. He’d laughed with her and told her that he was glad everything was all right. He was polite, and didn’t make her feel foolish about it, but she was relieved that he wouldn’t be coming here to see what she was seeing. Especially since she’d caught Clarissa’s fiancé literally with his hand in the till.
“I wasn’t stealing the money,” Rick insisted, for the fifth time. “Clarissa told me that you offered to let us stay here and give us both jobs. I’m really grateful for that. You’re going to pay that money to us anyway. I was just taking what was ours.”
“By breaking into my cash register,” Cookie said in a level voice.
Cream grumbled his agreement.
“Well, it’s our cash register,” Rick countered. “Besides, I didn’t break it. I used the key to get in. Why would I steal from you? I mean, we’re all working here together now. Seriously, Grandma Cookie. Thank you for that. It means a lot that you were willing to help us when we needed it. We’re just so lucky that you’re such a good person.”
He reached over and put his hand over Clarissa’s, and she smiled at him like he had just said something truly profound rather than that senseless string of words meant to excuse his criminal behavior.
Cookie was so frustrated right now that she was fit to be tied. “How did you even get in here?”
“I didn’t break in, if that’s what you mean,” he said to her with that same smile plastered on his face. “I would never do something like that to you, Grandma Cookie. Clarissa left the door open for me.”
Her granddaughter’s face turned beet red. She looked down at his hand over hers and wouldn’t meet Cookie’s gaze. Something she’d said earlier came back to Cookie now. It had been just a casual comment, and at the time she hadn’t paid it any mind at all.
Can’t it wait a day until me and Rick both get settled here?
So. Clarissa had known her fiancé was coming into town tonight. Funny, she hadn’t mentioned it to her. She’d left the whole bakery open so he could walk right in. Of course, that had left it open for anyone to walk in and steal whatever they liked. Her granddaughter’s judgment was definitely impaired when it came to this man she was in love with.
It also hadn’t escaped her notice that Hamish—no, Rick—had called her “Grandma” Cookie, as if he was trying to emphasize that he was part of the family. No doubt he wanted to cozy up to her and make her feel sorry for him. Addicts often played on the emotions of those around them.
Well, Cookie wasn’t going to let it work with her.
“Rick, you listen to me. You are a part of my granddaughter’s life. Because of that, you are welcome in my home. I want to help you, and you will get to stay here, but only as long as you act like you actually want to be part of this family.”
“Oh, absolutely,” he answered without hesitation. “Grandma Cookie, I’m going to work really hard and make sure that I take care of all of our problems. We won’t even be here that long. We’ll get back on our feet in no time.”
“Don’t shine me on,” Cookie told him with a shake of her finger. “First of all, you’re talking like these problems were created by both you and Clarissa. This is not her fault. This is your trouble to fix. Your actions and your decisions have led the two of you to this point. You are responsible, and you need to own up to what you’ve done before you can make any of thi
s better.”
His eyes slid to Clarissa, obviously not happy that she had told all of this to Cookie. When he looked back her way, he was all smiles again. “I understand what you mean. There’s things to work on, sure, but nothing we can’t handle together.”
“There you go again,” Cookie pointed out. “Clarissa would stand by you in the middle of a burning field of lava, I’m sure, but this problem is one you made. You’re the one who has to fix it. If you don’t want to do that then you’ll only bring more pain down on everyone around you.”
She was expecting an argument from Rick. She was prepared for that. Instead, she was surprised by Clarissa jumping up to her feet.
“Grandma, you can’t talk to him like that! He’s my fiancé and he’s doing everything he can to fix things for us and you just have to give him a chance!”
Beside her, Rick eased back in his chair, crossing his arms and grinning like he’d just won some victory. Clarissa was wrapped around his finger, and he knew it.
Cream silently bared his teeth at him.
Cookie’s heart broke a little. Her brave, confident granddaughter was lost in the shadow of Rick’s addiction. She was making excuses for what he had done to them, and Cookie was beginning to think that Clarissa was starting to believe not just his lies… but hers as well.
“Oh, Clarissa,” Cookie breathed.
Rick stood up, too, snugging Clarissa in close to his side. “So anyway, Grandma Cookie, I’ll just take the money you owe us and then we can all go up to bed.”
“You will not,” Cookie insisted. She slapped her palm down on the table for emphasis. “You two will do your work, and I will pay you like employees just like we agreed. You will not steal money from me. You will not disrespect my granddaughter, or me either. You will show me that you want to get better. Do we understand each other, Rick?”
“Grandma,” Clarissa started to argue, “I told you—”
“No, I don’t care what excuses the two of you have been telling each other but I don’t want to hear them. Especially from you, Clarissa. I expect better from you. You need to stand up for yourself.”
“I do! Grandma, I don’t know what you want from me. I do stand up for myself.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Cookie didn’t say anything more. She let her silence speak for her instead. She just looked at her granddaughter until the young woman’s eyes fell away, ashamed of herself.
It was late, and Cookie knew they were all tired, but there was a fine line between letting these two figure out their own problems, and letting them jump headfirst off the edge of a cliff. They needed to know the lying and the excuses wouldn’t be tolerated here. She hated what this addiction had done to the two of them, but even more than that she hated what it had done to Clarissa. All she could do was stand by them and encourage them and keep them from telling lies. Even to themselves.
Cream pushed his head up against her leg, lending her his silent moral support and understanding.
“Grandma Cookie,” Rick said to her. “I don’t appreciate you talking to Clarissa like this. We’re going to go upstairs now and turn in. We can discuss whatever’s bothering you tomorrow.”
“You’re what’s bothering me, Rick,” Cookie muttered as they turned away and headed for the kitchen. “And don’t call me ‘Grandma.’ You haven’t earned that right.”
Clarissa looked over her shoulder once as they were leaving. Her emotions rippled across her face in a clash of half-formed expressions. Then she was gone, and the swinging door to the kitchen slapped-slapped-slapped itself closed.
Cream sat back on his haunches and whuffed at the door. Then he laid down with his head on his paws and whined.
“I agree,” Cookie told him. “This is going to take some doing. It certainly isn’t going to be easy. Kind of like making authentic Texas chili.”
“You and your cooking metaphors,” she heard Jerry say to her. He was in the hallway, having used the back door to come in quiet and unnoticed. She’d been so wrapped up in trying to show Rick and Clarissa the error of their ways that she hadn’t even noticed him. She certainly did now. He was leaning one arm up against the wall, just standing there.
When Cream saw him, he jumped up excitedly and came rushing over to him, barking a hello and giving him the short version of what had happened through a series of arfs and ruffs.
“Don’t mind him,” Cookie told Jerry. “He’s just excited by everything going on. How long have you been watching?” Cookie asked him.
“Not long.” He looked at his watch as if he wasn’t sure himself. “Long enough to notice that nice new hairdo you have. I like it.”
It surprised her how warm those words made her feel inside. It was nice to know that he noticed when she changed something. He paid attention to her, and that was the definition of love in her recipe book.
“I’m glad you like it. Takes me back to when I was younger.” She managed a smile as she patted at the sides of her hair. “So, you heard all of that?”
He nodded. “Some of it. I was keeping quiet so you could talk. Besides, Cream had your back.”
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“What, let you take the lead with Clarissa? Hey, you were doing just fine on your own. Besides, I have the feeling that if I had jumped in, I would have ended up saying something I couldn’t take back.”
Mm-hmm. Cookie knew that was true. Jerry wasn’t the kind of man to keep his opinion to himself. Not when it mattered. “So how much did you hear us say?”
“Enough to know there’s more going on with those two than you’ve told me.”
“Some, yes. It wasn’t my story to tell. Trust me, if anything gets worse, or if Clarissa doesn’t tell you on her own, then I’ll tell you everything.”
She couldn’t help casting her eyes over to the cash register. She’d put all of the money back in its place and this time when she locked the drawer, she put the key in her pocket. She’d never had to worry about the key before, in its hiding place, but now she did. Rick knew where she kept it because he’d worked here before. She would have to hide it somewhere new or keep it on her person at all times now. Truth be told she didn’t even really trust Clarissa with it. Not after what she had just seen from her a few moments ago. What would Clarissa be willing to do for Rick, if he asked her? The answer to that question worried her.
Still, she didn’t think it was time to tell Jerry about Rick’s problem. The real problem, meaning his addiction. Not yet. The time might come when she had to, but for now she might be able to help them more by not involving a police officer. Even if that police officer was Jerry.
He pushed away from the wall and came over to stand close to her, holding her hands in his. Cream followed along at his feet. “Cookie, I trust you. If this is something you think you and Clarissa can handle by yourselves, then I’ll stand back and support you. But please remember that I’m here, whenever you do need me. I’m a pretty smart guy. Right?” he added, with one of those rare, quirky little smiles that he saved just for her.
She leaned her head down against his shoulder. It felt so nice, having him hold her while she let the worries and stress of this bad situation wash over her. Almost sixty-six years old, and here she was taking in her granddaughter once again to help straighten out her life. Only then did it occur to her that she hadn’t asked Clarissa whether or not she’d called her mother. Most likely not, based on everything that had just happened. Clarissa was hiding from her problems, rather than facing them. So, no doubt it was going to be up to Cookie to make that call.
She sighed heavily and just let Jerry hold her. This was getting out of hand, and she needed to soak up some of his strength.
“Talk to me about something else,” she asked him. “Take my mind off of everything for a little bit. Oh, I know. Tell me what’s going on with your investigation into the Northern Adirondack Savings Bank robbery.”
“Cookie, that’s still a confidential investigation…”
He chuckled at how she had just turned the tables on him. “Fine. Myself and one of the other officers went and interviewed both Edward Mayes and Pauline Wallace. We did it at the same time, so they wouldn’t have time to call each other and prepare what they were going to say. Both of them said they had nothing to add to their statements from the time the robbery happened. Ed even told me the whole story again, and it was almost word for word what his statement said the day it happened. As far as either of them knows, the robber took the money to the plane, and then burned up in the crash.”
Cookie thought about that for a moment. She supposed that she really shouldn’t have expected Ed or Pauline to come up with something new just because Jonathan Graham, a known criminal, was lying about them. She was glad they hadn’t changed their stories. “So now you can be done with Graham and turn him over to the Federal officers, right? They’ll pick him up and put him in Federal prison?”
“It certainly looks that way. I don’t mind telling you, Cookie, I won’t mind seeing the last of Mister Jonathan Graham. He keeps asking us to bring him things. Books to read, a better pillow, stuff like that. He’s treating this like a vacation instead of a stay behind bars. Just this morning he asked for pair of reading glasses. Can you imagine? This guy has a set of brass ones, I can tell you that.”
“Reading glasses?” Cookie was surprised. She wore glasses herself, just to read with, but her eyes were old and tired. “Isn’t Graham too young to need glasses? He isn’t trying to collect items for an escape attempt, is he? Like that MacGyver fellow, or something?”
“No, that’s not it,” Jerry answered her, but she could tell by the way he shifted on his feet the idea hadn’t occurred to him before. “No. He’s being watched all the time, either in person or on the monitors. He’s old enough that he needs glasses to read and when we arrested him, we weren’t exactly worried about finding all of his personal belongings to take with him. He was breaking into people’s homes for a place to sleep. God alone knows what he left or where he left it.”