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“Maybe the doctor has moved from one to the other?” Cassie shrugged. “Then again, I’m not sure that would fit the timeline. We still don’t know which patients died under unusual circumstances.”
“Heather’s parents own a small bakery just outside the city.” He tilted his phone again so she could see the spot on the map. “They might have more information.”
“So, what, we show up and ask them about their dead daughter?” She plastered a smile on her face and mimed paying in cash. “Hello, I’d like half a dozen red velvet cupcakes. Can you tell us exactly how Daisy died? Hang on, I have the thirty-six cents.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Maybe with a little more tact than that. Although, I approve of the red velvet.” He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Maybe Heather’s parents are worried about her. If she’s living on her own, moving apartments, changing her identity, it’s possible they haven’t seen her in a while. Or have no idea what she’s been up to. Maybe they’ll be grateful we’ve seen her recently.”
Cassie enjoyed the way Jason’s brain worked. He was clearly good at thinking through these situations. And she still relished the fact that she didn’t need to do this on her own. “You’re right.” He beamed, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “It’s worth a shot.”
33
The bakery was a tiny building that could’ve been a holdover from the 1950s. The striped awning looked new, and the brick appeared as though they’d restored it sometime in the last decade. Everything else about the building retained its original character. The sign that read Flora’s Bakery in delicate script looked original.
There was no bell as Cassie pulled the door open, but the woman behind the counter noticed when they entered. She looked up with a smile, setting aside her book. “Hi, there! Welcome to Flora’s.”
“Hi, how are you today?”
“Can’t complain.” As Cassie approached, she saw similarities between Heather and the woman. They had the same nose. “How about you?”
“The weather could be better.” Cassie was stalling. “Are you Flora?”
“Flora was my mother.” She pointed to a black-and-white portrait of a woman draped in fur and a diamond necklace. She looked like a movie star. “This was her pet project while my father was busy designing the city’s infrastructure.”
Cassie didn’t miss the way she’d said designing rather than building. Though she’d never heard of them, she’d bet the Stephens were from the wealthier part of the city. Especially if Flora Stephens had taken on an entire bakery as a pet project.
“And now you run the shop?”
“My husband and I, yes.” She gestured around the store, and Cassie noticed how they had positioned antique lamps and signs next to modern conveniences. Everything about the store screamed money. “Our attempt to keep a little slice of history alive.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Do you know what you might like to try today?” She pointed to a sample tray next to the cash register. “These are peanut butter and jelly cupcake bites. They’re one of our best sellers.”
Cassie hesitated. They had gone over the plan on the car ride over, but now that she was face to face with the woman, she hated darkening her day. But then Cassie thought of all the people who had died, including Jasmine, and she allowed their spirits to spur her forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
The woman looked delighted Cassie had inquired. “Lily.”
“Lily, my name is Cassie. This is Jason.” She took a moment to breathe. “We’re looking for your daughter, Heather.”
Lily frowned. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you.”
“It’s important we find her.”
“Is she in trouble?” Lily looked from one of them to the other. “Who are you? Police?”
“No, we’re not the police.”
“Reporters?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Cassie felt the conversation getting away from her. “Jason’s cousin died recently, and we think Heather might know something. We just want to talk to her.”
Something in Lily broke. Her lip quivered and she looked down at her hands. “Were they friends?” When she looked up again, there were tears in her eyes. “Heather and your cousin?”
“No, ma’am.” Jason’s voice was slow and gentle. “At least, not that I’m aware.”
“Good.” She tried to steel herself, but there was so much pain in her eyes. “We don’t talk much anymore. At all, actually. Heather hasn’t been the same. Not since her sister died.”
“We read about her. Daisy.” Cassie tiptoed through the conversation. “We know she had back surgery and something went wrong. She got a bacterial infection?”
