My heart thumps three times before we make it across and Bennett releases Liam’s hand to continue allowing him to run in front of us, but he doesn’t let go of mine. We stroll hand in hand on the sidewalk, my mind no longer worried about blueberry muffins or whether Pearl sees us. Instead my thoughts turn to how much I’m going to miss Bennett and Liam once I’m putting in fifteen hour days at the bakery again. It’s amazing how quickly such a small kid and his dad can worm their way into your heart when you let your guard down.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The time, 6:01 flashes on the alarm drilled into the brick exterior of my back entryway at the bakery. Bennett punches in a set of numbers and the entire box flashes green.
“The code is the date you moved to Pelican Bay,” he rattles off the number, which is good because I have no idea when I made it here. “I’ll give you a full rundown of how to work the system later, but for now that code will get you in and out when you need it. And remember Spencer is always your eye in the sky.” He leans out the back door and points toward the camera mounted a little to the left of the entryway.
“Thanks.” I remove my keys from the door and pull it the rest of the way open. Bennett leans into my little hallway and places a kiss on my cheek.
One that doesn’t last nearly long enough. It’s like our 500th kiss if you count the long make out session we had last night. In his bed. Regardless my heart soars at the simple contact. I’m a little hazy on when this thing started between us, but over the last day it’s grown to new heights.
Bennett and I have gone from ten to ten thousand overnight. Well… maybe not ten thousand, since he hasn’t made it to home base yet, but that’s a pretty strong bet.
“I’ll be back to keep an eye on the place after Dolores comes, but you should be safe this morning and we’re always close by if you need something.”
I twirl the keys between my fingers. “You don’t need to stay here all day,” I promise easily, but my heart ticks up hopeful he does.
Bennett laughs, a deep heartfelt chuckle I feel in my stomach… and places farther south. “Yes, I do. I’ll help you get back on track. Even I make better cookies than Tabitha.”
I muffle the laugh with a hand over my mouth. “True.” It’s not for lack of trying. Since saying yes to working here, Tabitha has tried hard on the cooking elements, but she hasn’t gotten there.
Bennett turns, casting a glance at the parking lot. I pat him on the back. “Go make Liam some breakfast. I’ll see you later.” With one final quick kiss, he lets go of the door and jumps in the truck he left idling. Liam is fast asleep in his car seat.
Every morning for the last few months I’ve woken up before five to get doughnuts prepped for the upcoming day. Being able to sleep in the last two days made me soft, and my eyes wander to the closed door, which leads my apartment. It’s so tempting to take a quick turn and allow myself to go upstairs for a nap, but I’ll regret it later. Someone has to clean this place up sooner or later. I’ve avoided it as long as I can.
The hallway ends, plopping me in the middle of the kitchen. I flip on lights as I walk through the space, each area being illuminated right before I enter. I hesitate when I reach the swinging metal doors separating the kitchen from the front counter. I haven’t been here since the day Mad Dog was shot. I wasn’t in a hurry to get back to this place and deal with it, but now I’ll have to face what horrors lie here. The biggest memory of what it looked like when we left is all the blood.
With a deep breath and an outstretched hand, I push my way through the door and stop, turning on the lights with a flick. The fluorescents flicker for a moment before illuminating the bakery. To my left the window is still boarded up, three pieces of plywood blocking out the natural daylight.
When I work up the courage to check out the floor on the opposite side of my counter a gust of breath leaves me. I walk closer to be sure, but the scene doesn’t change.
There’s nothing on the floor at all. No red streaks of blood or dirty towels. There’s no evidence of the macabre scene that took place here just a few short days ago. It’s like it never happened. Everything a dream.
No, a horrible nightmare.
But I know that’s not true.
Waiting for me on the metal top of the display case sits a small card, tented so as to catch my attention. Not willing to cross over to the other side and stand in the space where Mad Dog laid, I pop the card off the top and open it, retreating back beside the kitchen doors.
In Tabitha’s handwriting is a quick note.
Nessa,
Me and the boys helped you clean up.
Hope it helps,
Tabitha
PS. Yes, I made sure they used the good cleaner so it’s to your standard.
I toss the card on top of the cash register laughing. Poor Tabitha has first-hand knowledge of how high my cleaning standards are. To some people I’m sure it’s crazy but the last thing I want is some salmonella outbreak or something in a place I’m trying to run. You can never be too clean.
And while I’m super thankful I don’t have to come in and clean up dried blood off the floor, I plan to spend a portion of today guaranteeing this place is Anessa clean. Back in the kitchen, I get busy and gather up all my cleaning supplies. They fit in two hanging baskets I picked up from the dollar store.
The glass company won’t have a replacement window here until Friday. I assured Bennett I could take care of it myself — even though I was totally lying because I have no idea where you order a window from — but he promised Mack could get me a deal with his hardware connections. It was a huge weight off my shoulders and now having the floors scrubbed clean helps as well.
I can’t serve breakfast here, but if I clean out the freezers I should be able to have a few options ready for lunch. Maybe enough to pay for having the lights on. That is if people want to eat at a bakery that was a scene of a crime a few days ago.
