6. Harper
CHAPTER 6
Harper
My feet were killing me.
There wasn’t anything unusual about that—just the life of a baker. My day started at four in the morning and most evenings I stayed until after we closed. But it had been extra busy and Beth had gone home sick. I was so done.
I was almost finished cleaning up the kitchen, getting it ready for Horatio, who’d be in for his daily bread baking well before dawn. I’d be back early as well—tomorrow's desserts weren’t going to bake themselves—but Horatio seemed to like doing his thing in the middle of the night.
Kind of wondered if he was a vampire or something. He was awfully pasty. But maybe that was because he worked at night and probably slept during the daylight hours.
Still. Vampire?
I wiped down the island and checked the time. Two minutes. I never closed even a minute early. Maybe I had a touch of OCD, but even on a day when I was so ready to go home, I had to leave the cupcake sign turned toward open until exactly five o’clock.
The front door opened and my heart sank a little. A customer right at closing .
I sighed. It was my fault. I could have locked the door a hundred and twenty seconds early, but did I? No, I did not.
“Hi.” I did my best to be cheerful as I came out from the kitchen. “Can I help you?”
The man was probably in his late thirties, maybe forty, with a slightly receding hairline and a scraggly beard in need of a trim. Big, block letters on his T-shirt proclaimed, True Crime All the Time .
“Yeah.” He eyed the pastry case, and when his gaze lifted to meet mine, the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. “Oh. Hi.”
The intensity in his expression was disconcerting, like he was mentally undressing me. I stepped away from the counter to put more distance between us.
“Is there something I can get for you?”
He didn’t look at the pastry case. Instead, his eyes flicked down to my chest.
Lovely.
“Uh…” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “Did you bake all these?”
“Yes, I did.”
“They all look so good, I don’t know what to pick.”
“Take your time.”
“Did you know that in the nineteen seventies, a guy killed his parents and then led police on a chase that lasted four days before they finally caught him?”
His question was so out of the blue, it tripped me up. “Um, what?”
“They found him right here in Tilikum.”
“No, I didn’t know that.” I pointed to his shirt. “True crime fan?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I like to do a lot of my own research.”
“Oh. Interesting.”
I didn’t know if this guy was just a little bit awkward or if I had a reason for hoping he left soon. I didn’t want to be judgy, but there was something about him that was making me uncomfortable.
Oh well. Wouldn’t have been the first time. It was a hazard of dealing with the public. I’d just keep it professional and maybe clear my throat if he started staring at my chest again. Sometimes that worked.
“So, what can I get you?”
His eyes went straight to my chest. I cleared my throat, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Would you like a suggestion?” I asked, working hard to keep my tone friendly.
“Sure.”
“The sugar cookies have been popular lately. Or the double chocolate chunk if you prefer chocolate.”
“Chocolate,” he said with a nod. “Are you new in town? I don’t remember seeing you.”
“Fairly new, yeah.” I used a pair of tongs to get his cookie out of the case and put it in a white bag.
“Tilikum is a nice place, even if it has a lot of secrets.”
“I suppose most places do.” I rang him up and took his payment.
“Yeah, you’d be surprised. There was a woman out in Pinecrest who kept marrying different men and then killing them. Made them all look like accidents.”
“Wow, that’s terrible.” I had a feeling this guy needed to find another hobby. His true crime fascination was a little much. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No.”
I hesitated, waiting for him to go. He had his cookie. He’d paid for it. But he just stood there. His eyes roved over me again. He was really starting to make my skin crawl.
“Okay, then have a nice evening.”
“You too. I’m Matt Rudolph.”
“Harper. Nice to meet you. ”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m glad you moved to Tilikum. The old baker wasn’t very pretty.”
What was with this guy? “Well, she’s my aunt, so…”
“You don’t look like her.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not.”
He grinned again. “See you again soon, Harper.”
“Bye.”
I let out a breath as he finally left, then hurried over to lock the door and turn the cupcake sign to closed.
I couldn’t put my finger on why that interaction had bothered me the way it did. Garrett Haven had stared at me when he’d been in with his son. That encounter had been arguably more awkward—it had seemed like he’d forgotten how to use words—but it had been cute, not weird.
Maybe I didn’t need a solid reason. My intuition had been telling me something. What, I didn’t really know, other than he’d made me uncomfortable. But I’d keep an eye out when I went to my car, just in case. You never knew these days. Even in a small town like Tilikum, there could still be a creeper deluxe.
Or worse. Matt seemed to know all about that.
I packed up the few desserts that were left to take to the food bank and made sure everything else was cleaned up. Tired as I was, I didn’t mind the time it took. Matt was probably harmless, just a guy who let his eyes linger on my boobs too long, but hopefully this way he’d be less likely to stick around so he could “accidentally” run into me when I left for the day.
When everything was clean and tidy, I went out the back door and locked it. I didn’t see anyone as I walked to my car. Just a few squirrels on the roof of the building next door and another in a wine barrel planter nearby.
I still locked the car doors as soon as I got in.
So far, my bad luck hadn’t gotten me into serious trouble—no major car accidents or muggings or anything horrible like that—but I didn’t want to tempt fate. And who knew, as the seven years drew to an end, maybe the mirror curse was gearing up to go out with a bang.
That was a disconcerting thought.
Then again, other than be reasonably careful, there wasn’t much I could do about it. I turned on my car and flashed the lights once before putting it in reverse. I’d call that a habit, but it was probably more like a ritual. I did it every time I got in my car.
The drive home was uneventful, aside from a squirrel who seemed to value the candy bar it was carrying more than its life. It darted in front of me and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting it. Without even glancing my direction, it bounded across the road, carrying the too-big-for-it loot.
Tilikum squirrels were interesting creatures.
I stopped at the food bank to drop off the leftover desserts and bread, then headed home. My house was less than ten minutes from downtown, in a little residential neighborhood with winding streets and lots of trees. It was cute, a two-story with a small yard and a two-car garage. That was going to come in handy in the winter. I wouldn’t have to scrape ice off my windshield at four in the morning.
Inside were three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Like most rentals, the colors were all neutral, mostly beige and white. But it was clean and well-kept. And best of all, it had a great kitchen, especially for being a smaller house.
It wasn’t just the maple cabinets, quartz counters, and farmhouse sink that I loved. It was the space. Most of the downstairs was open, great-room style, which left room for a big kitchen island and lots of counter space. And there was plenty of storage for my admittedly huge collection of baking supplies.
Despite the fact that I baked for a living, I still enjoyed doing it at home. Some of my best recipes had come from late night baking sessions in my own kitchen. But after my long day, I wasn’t in the mood for more baking. Or cooking of any kind.
I went inside, put my things down, and went upstairs to change. There was nothing like the freedom of taking off my bra at the end of the day. So nice. I put on a tank top and flannel pajama pants, redid my ponytail, and went down to the kitchen to see what I could scrounge up for dinner.
My choices weren’t exactly thrilling. I had food, I was just in a mood where nothing I had sounded good. After standing in front of my open fridge for a few minutes, I closed the door, pulled a ramen bowl out of the freezer, and popped it into the microwave. Not exactly health food, but at least it had a few vegetables in it.
Even with the hum of the microwave, my house seemed oddly quiet. I’d been living alone for years, but somehow it was taking a long time to get used to the silence of the small town.
It made me wonder what Garrett Haven was doing.
I’d been trying not to think about him, but alone in my house, in the quiet of the early evening, he muscled his way into my mind.
He was, well, big, for one. I was five-eight, so not exactly short, and he’d towered over me. And those arms. Did the sheriff’s department have to order him custom uniform shirts? There was no way those were standard.
Add blue eyes, neatly trimmed stubble, a broad chest, and tree trunk thighs, and he was a dream in uniform.
Of course the guy who canceled on me would be freaking gorgeous. That was my luck.
The microwave beeped, so I grabbed my ramen and set it on the counter. He’d seemed like a nice enough guy, too. And I was impressed by the way he’d handled the situation with his son, especially considering he was in law enforcement.
He’d been firm with him, but calm. And even though Owen had begged me not to let his dad arrest him, there’d been no fear in his demeanor. He wasn’t scared of his big, brawny, uniformed dad. Owen had been a bit sullen—no surprise, considering he’d been caught—but not afraid.
I stirred my ramen and took it to the couch. What was I doing? I was well on my way to letting the sight of Garrett Haven in that uniform live rent free in my head, and that was such a terrible idea. He’d stood me up once, which was not a mark in his favor.
And the mirror thing was a problem. A very real problem, despite what my mother and sister would have said about it. Aunt Doris had confirmed it. The bad luck would find me, every single time.
So I ate my ramen. Alone. And tried not to think about how much I would have liked to have someone to eat cheap, frozen food with.
Loneliness was a thing. And because of my bad luck, I was stuck with it.