“Have a good day,” she told him as she opened her door.
“It’s already a great day because I made my two favorite girls smile this morning.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop to think about them.
Grace paused for a heartbeat in the act of getting out, then continued. She mumbled a goodbye and went inside.
As always, he watched the security camera app on his phone to make sure she was safe before he left.
She was in the kitchen, tying on a frilly pink apron. She pulled proofing trays out of frig, and put butter in the microwave to melt. While it ran, she turned and walked over to the corner where the inside camera was mounted. He frowned. Was something wrong?
She looked up, right into the camera, and blew him a kiss.
Reno froze, watching blankly as she brushed melted butter on rolls. He did a quick inventory.
Hands: Not dropping phone. Not shaking.
Throat: tight.
Stomach: knotted.
Chest: not breathing.
Breathe, you idiot. Don’t pass out in your truck on Main Street.
Knee: silent. Even the knee.
He’d been kissed in his life, even by some women who really knew what they were doing. But he’d never, in thirty-three years on this earth, been blown a kiss through a security camera by an angel on Earth who had a daughter and a dead husband and a stalker, and who hadn’t flinched while he laid out the worst thing he’d ever done.
It was the best kiss he’d ever gotten. And he hadn’t even been in the same room with the woman who gave it to him.
The auto shop smelled like motor oil and yesterday’s coffee. The garage doors were rolled down against the spring chill, and the morning sun coming through them made stripes on the concrete floor. Boone had Reno’s coffee waiting on the front hood of the Mustang.
Reno picked up the mug, propped up the Mustang’s hood, and stared at the alternator he should replace but was too distracted to pull out. Instead, he gazed at the bakery across the street. Mary’s hatchback pulled up and parked. A delivery van he didn’t recognize was at the corner down the street, and then it wasn’t.
From behind him, Boone said, “I need to talk with you about Mary.”
That got his attention.
Boone leaned against the Mustang’s fender sipping coffee. He didn’t look at his watch or his phone, which meant he had time, which meant the next thing he said was going to be worth listening to.
“Mary’s hasn’t said a word to Charlotte about her sister for almost a full week, now. That’s not normal. Mary always leads with her sister. My sister said. My sister thinks. My sister and that boyfriend of hers.” Boone looked toward the bakery. “Then, yesterday, Mary came in here to drop off some rolls Charlotte ordered. She asked me if I’d noticed anything strange going on around Grace’s place. I told her I’d noticed plenty of strange things going on around Grace’s place . . . and she didn’t ask me what.”
“She didn’t ask?” Reno echoed, startled.
“Nope.” A pause. “Now, why do you suppose that is?”
Reno set his coffee down. “She’s afraid of the answer.”
Boone nodded. “That would be my read, too.”
Reno couldn’t believe he was saying the words, but he asked quietly, “Do you think Mary’s involved with the harassment? She does have a key to the place. And her sister works for another bakery.”
Boone considered the question. “I don’t see her doing it on purpose. She loves Grace. Has worked for her since the bakery opened. But the sister . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t think Mary intentionally tells the sister anything important. But I could see the sister asking her questions Mary doesn’t realize are fishing for information.”
“Such as?”
“Who’s come into the bakery to talk with Grace about catering a party or a wedding? What time does Grace usually leave the bakery? Does Grace ever talk about the new bakery in Apple Pie Creek?”
“Huh.”
