Once she’d pocketed the key again, she turned to start down the stairs.
Maurice reached for her hand and walked down beside her, holding her hand all the way.
Warmth spread through Amelie, making her steps lighter and the tasks ahead of her less daunting.
Between the two of them, they unloaded the supplies from the van into the kitchen.
Amelie quickly sorted through the boxes, bags and bottles of ingredients, giving Maurice guidance on where to store them.
Once she had everything in place and the ingredients for the bread and pastries that the bakery sold most, she stopped to look around with a satisfied smile. “There is one good thing that’s come out of the break-in.”
Maurice placed a bucket of cooking oil on the floor next to another just like it and straightened. “Oh, yeah? What?”
Her smile broadened. “This place is sparkling clean.” She turned her smile on Maurice. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I’m betting you would’ve done just fine without me, but thanks. It’s been a learning experience. I never knew there was so much going on behind the scenes. I’ll have a greater appreciation for my morning éclair and coffee.”
Amelie turned to the workbench where she’d left out the ingredients she needed for the next day’s baked goods. “Now to make up the dough for bread, bagels, eclairs and donuts.”
Maurice shook his head. “Surely, you have time to grab a bite to eat before diving in.”
“I can’t spare the time it takes to cook a meal or wait for it at a restaurant.” She tied an apron over her clothing and pulled a net cap over her head, tucking in her ponytail. “Lunch was enough. But if you’re hungry, you don’t have to stick around.”
A knock sounded at the back door of the kitchen.
Amelie crossed the floor to answer.
Maurice beat her to it and opened it to find Remy Montagne, Maurice’s boss and the leader of the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors. And he was holding a pizza box. “Anyone hungry?”
The scent of warm pizza, tomato sauce and cheese filled the air, making Amelie’s stomach rumble loudly. She pressed a hand to her belly, heat rising into her cheeks.
Maurice grinned. “Lunch was enough, was it?”
“It was until I smelled pizza.” She hurried over. “Tell me it has pepperoni on it.”
Remy laughed. “It has everything on it. Except anchovies. Shelby thought you might need sustenance, and I thought I’d get a sitrep on what’s going on.”
“Is Shelby on duty?” Amelie asked.
“On baby duty,” Remy clarified. “She sent me out on the pizza run. I can’t stay long. I have another pizza in the truck. But I wanted to get the details of what happened last night straight from the horses’ mouths. I also had a call from Hank Patterson, asking if we needed any further assistance other than Swede’s technical support.”
“Come into the front of the shop where we can set the pizza down on one of the bistro tables.” Amelie led the way through the kitchen into the front of the bakery, switching on lights along the way.
While Remy dropped the pizza box on a table, Maurice filled him in on what had occurred the night before.
Amelie turned on the coffee maker, measured coffee into the filter and poured in water.
She found paper plates and napkins they’d just stocked on a shelf behind the counter and brought them to the table.
“Which brings us to our trip to New Orleans.” Maurice opened the box and let Amelie select a slice first.
“What happened in New Orleans that made you get Swede working on researching a French family and a German dude?” Remy asked.
Amelie gave him a brief rundown of her work in Paris, her mentor, Armand, and Luis, the chef’s son. Then she told him about getting a call from Luis and their subsequent lunch meeting.
“Sounds like Schulz was looking for lost or stolen art or antiquities,” Remy said. “Which is a little odd, considering the Nazi’s stole so much artwork, and some of it disappeared.”
“I thought the same,” Maurice said.
