Across the room, someone dropped their drink. "Oh, I'd better get a mop for that. Excuse me."
As I finished cleaning up the mess, a sound echoed from the back of the bakery, and the lights flickered, then went out. An overly dramatic woman screamed as if she were in a murder mystery and the stage lights went dark. Since we still had candles on the tables, my eyes quickly adjusted. The teenage boy currently on stage tapped the mic repeatedly, like that would fix the problem, and a bunch of people turned on their phone lights.
The power outage likely resulted from a blown fuse, but the timing was terrible.
“I’ve got this. Don’t worry.” I called over the crowd, then dashed out to the fuse box in the alleyway. I used my phone’s flashlight to see the unlit side of the building. Sure enough, the breaker was flipped. Before I fixed it, someone shuffling toward the end of the alley made me freeze in place. “Who’s there?”
I flashed my phone’s light in their direction, but whoever was down there took off running, then crashed into and overturned an aluminum trash can. The clattering metal echoed off the sides of the building. No one should have been at the end of the alley. It didn’t connect to the main streets or anything, and I’d relocked the gate after the band members arrived. So, whoever this was had to have come from the bakery. By the light of a lamppost, a flash of deep red hair appeared for a split second.
I flipped the breaker back on and booked it back into the bakery.
The lights were on, and the crowd had calmed down, but no one was at the mic. I looked around to see who might be missing, since the only way the person with the red hair could have gotten in or out of the alley wasthrough the bakery. I found Wickham. Mathis was in a corner, adjusting wires, but with all the corners and dim lighting, I wasn’t sure whether the other band members were still around.
“We’re good!” I called out to everyone, feigning confidence, and sped over to Wickham.
“We’re not good, are we?” he muttered as I reached for him.
I whispered in his ear. “No, we need to verify everyone’s location. Someone from the bakery was in the alley, and they had to be the one who turned off the power. I’ll check the back. Will you look around the rest of the storefront? We’re watching for bright red hair... I think.”
“Of course.” Wickham turned to begin his search.
I found Zoe and Harley in the kitchen, collecting baked goods to restock the tables. “Did either of you see someone with red hair come through here?”
“How red?” Harley pondered my question.
I blinked. “Uh, just really bright red.”
“Nope. I’m sure we would have noticed someone withanyshade of red hair.” Zoe responded. So, I hurried back to the restaurant floor, nearly crashing into Wickham.
“I found both girls.Any luck?” I asked.
Wickham acted calm but had perspiration on his brow, and his aura rippled with a bit of nervous gray. “Mathis is in the corner, talking to a girl, and we think Tim’s in the back, texting somebody. I found Bradley coming out of the restroom, and Ernesto’s been monitoring the sound equipment.”
“Okay. We should probably verify that Tim’s still around.” I breathed. “As I was turning the breaker back on, I saw someone with fire-engine-red hair rounding the back corner of the alley. There is absolutely no reason for anyone to be out there except to tamper with the breakers. It goes around the bakery and to our dumpster. I’m glad all of the band members are safe.”
“I haven’t seen anyone with fiery-red hair tonight. But you’re saying whoever it was must be somewhere in the bakery? Any other identifiers?” Wickham asked.
“They were mostly in shadow, so other than the red hair, I couldn’t tell. Whoever it was wasn’t very tall. With how bright the hair was, it reminded me of a Halloween costume wig. If we can find it...”
“We should probably be discreet while we search. I don’t want to put anyone on edge.” Wickham narrowed his eyes, glancing around the room.
Between the middle-aged couples, the clusters of teenagers, the college students, and the Grey Doors members, I couldn’t imagine any of them as killers. Whoever it was must’ve been pretty desperate.
“I trust my sisters to help us look, and I’d like to say I trust your band, but, just to be certain, we shouldn’t reveal too much,” I said. It was a little unfair to keep them in the dark, but we didn’t know anything for sure.
“Agreed.” Wickham scanned the room, taking a moment to pause and glance at each member of the Grey Doors. We weren’t much closer to solving this case than we’d been a day ago, but in the back of my mind, I sensed clues lingering beneath the surface. Only I wasn’t clever enough to figure out what they were.
There had to be more than a red wig to identify the mysterious figure. They’d worn a thick, dark overcoat. At first, I’d assumed the figure was female, perhaps because of the long hair, or it could have been a shorter male. But really, there was no other way of knowing.
After gathering my sisters, we doled out assignments. Wickham, Mary, and I made up one group of the covert search party, checking outside. Lizzy and Kitty checked the perimeter and upstairs to make sure ourparents were alright, and Jane stayed with the guests to watch for anything suspicious.
Before heading outside, I grabbed some disposable gloves and plastic zipper bags from the kitchen.
“We’re searching for a bright red wig? That shouldn’t be too hard to find.” Mary asked, her usual emerald-green and indigo aura flickered with what I suspected was fatigue. It was getting late, and she was usually up very early. “How hard can that be to find?”
“We should check the alley,” I said. No part of me wanted to go back out there, but it was necessary.
“We’ll stay together.” Wickham squeezed my hand, and I nodded. “Safety in numbers and all that.”
