Chapter Eleven #2
so he could focus on the production side of the
business.
The original apple packing shed stood
adjacent to the mill. The space in front had been transformed into
the farm bakery café and gift shop. The conveyor belts in the back
were no longer in use as they paid a third party to pack and ship
any unused apples.
Delaney had worked with the local
historical society to put up interpretive signs explaining the
operation to visitors. She passed through the open sliding barn
door to enter the shop, the exposed beams giving it a spacious
feel.
A three-quarter wall partitioned the
retail and bakery areas, with a wide walkway between the spaces.
Another door from the bakery opened onto a deck with outdoor
seating.
The smell of coffee, dark and rich,
filled the air. They made coffee daily, and anyone working at the
farm or visiting vendors were welcome to a cup. Soon there’d be the
aroma of cider donuts and freshly baked pies to add to the homey
atmosphere she was striving for.
Delaney did a quick survey of the
area, feeling the rush of pride at the warmth and charm of the
space James had helped her design. Their goal had been to preserve
the rustic appeal and historical character of the buildings while
still making them efficient business spaces. She thought they’d hit
the mark.
The place was only more special
because James had done the finish carpentry, adding special touches
to everything from the railings to the workspaces and display
racks. All were stamped with James’s beautiful
craftsmanship.
A young woman stood at the far wall
near a display of cookie cutters and the Cider Mill Farm cookbook,
which contained many of the recipes used in the bakery. She held
the cookbook open in her hand, head bent as she slowly turned the
pages. Her hair was hidden under a dark beanie and her drab-green
canvas jacket hung loose on her thin shoulders.
Delaney hadn’t seen a car parked in
front and they weren’t close enough to town for the woman to’ve
easily walked there.
Delaney approached, casting an
assessing eye over the woman. “Can I help you? I’m sorry but we
won’t open for business for a couple weeks.”
The woman gave an involuntary start
before turning. Striking blue-green eyes studied her, and Delaney
had the impression of being carefully assessed. “Um, yes. Hello.
I’m Cam. Um, Camilla. Camilla Barton.” Her hands clutched at the
cookbook, then, as if realizing the movement gave away her
nervousness, she carefully replaced it on the display. “I’m looking
for work and wondered if you’re hiring.”
The woman’s voice held a husky tone,
like maybe she didn’t use it often. Now that she had a better look,
Delaney realized her earlier age assumption of around twenty was
off. Camilla Barton was closer to the later end of her
twenties.
Francesca came from the back
storeroom, the box she carried almost as big as she was. “Delaney,
this is Cam. She says she can work hard and knows how to bake. We
need a baker. You should hire her.” Francesca had never been shy
about stating her opinions.
Delaney caught the surprise in Cam’s
eyes. “You’re Delaney?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m, um, I—” Whatever Cam
intended to say, Delaney thought she changed her mind, and instead
said, “I heard you’re the person I should talk to about a
job.”
“Who referred
you?”
“No one. I’m new to the
area. But the lady at the motel in Sisters told me you run this
place and might be hiring.”
“We’re hiring, and boy, do
we need help,” Francesca chimed in.
“Way to play it close to
the vest, Franny.”
“Just saying it like it
is. Plus, you always say we’re a team and everyone gets input
around here.”
Seeing how all their permanent
employees were older than Delaney and had worked at the farm for
decades, operating by consensus might have its drawbacks, but she
didn’t see how else they could do it.
Shaking her head, she said, “If you’d
like to fill out an application, there’s a link on our
website.”
Cam fidgeted with the strap of the
heavy backpack hanging from one shoulder. “My phone is dead. Can I
fill out a paper form?”
“Sure.” Delaney crossed to
the checkout counter and rummaged in the drawer beneath it until
she found an employee application form along with a pen and a
clipboard. She handed them to Cam. “You can sit out on the deck and
complete this. I’ll come out when you’ve had time to do that and we
can talk.”
Franny led Cam to the deck while
Delaney tried to figure out the vibe she was getting off
Cam.
The woman appeared a little rough
around the edges. Her eyes were shadowed, and she looked thin. She
was probably naturally slender, but she looked underweight. Add the
underlying sense of wariness Delaney was picking up, and she
decided to be cautious. Reality was the farm would soon open to the
public and hiring seasonal employees was at the top of her to-do
list. It’d be nice to have someone older than the teenagers who
provided most of the summer labor. Someone reliable who could work
the morning shift after the high school kids went back to school in
late August. If Cam really did have experience as a baker, it would
be a definite bonus.
Delaney took a call from a supplier,
checked with Franny on plans for a display, and wrote notes on an
event she was planning for Labor Day to kick off apple season. It
was close to twenty minutes later until she made it out to the
deck.
Cam sat at one of the square wooden
tables, her chin resting against her palm, staring across the road.
Oscar rode the mower over the grass of the picnic meadow, the
droning sound of the motor drifting with the breeze. He stopped and
hopped off, leaving the machine to idle as he pulled picnic tables
out of the way.
The table Cam had chosen was in the
dappled shade cast by the bright pink blooms of the bougainvillea
growing across the pergola and the trio of pines that rose above
it. Delaney sat opposite her and Cam straightened in her seat, the
pen she dropped clattering against the table.
Delaney studied the application form,
the boxes filled with neat printing. She raised her gaze to study
Cam’s cautious expression. “You didn’t put down a Social Security
number, and you put the motel in town as your address.”
Cam picked up the pen again to run it
through her fingers and gave a jerky nod. “There are reasons for
that.”
Delaney turned over the paper to look
at the back. “You wrote that you’ve done catering and baking, but
don’t say where or when.” She gave Cam a direct look. “That’s
pretty standard information for a work history.”
Cam set down the pen and spread her
hands on the table as if bracing herself. “What I put on the
application is the information I can give you. I understand if that
prevents you from hiring me.” Her tone sounded strained, like she
was doing her best to present a calm demeanor. She cleared her
throat and her voice became firmer. “I have experience planning
events. I’m a competent cook, but an excellent baker. If you give
me a break, I promise I’ll be a good employee.” She chewed on her
lip, then sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “Your farm
is beautiful. There’s history here, like it was built a century ago
and hasn’t changed all that much. I love that. This is exactly the
kind of place where I’d like to work. If you hire me, I promise to
be here on time, every day. I’ll work hard and do my job well. But
I can’t give you any more information than what I put on the
application.”
Delaney sighed, resisting the urge to
rub at the stiffness at the base of her neck where she always
carried her stress.
Cam was in trouble,
probably running from something. Or, more likely, from
someone.
Delaney often wondered if that’s why her own
mother had left her at the hospital after giving birth, walking out
the doors and never looking back. Maybe she’d been in trouble and
felt her daughter would be safer without her. Which was proof
positive Delaney was good at concocting stories to make sense of
her mother abandoning her baby daughter.
Shrugging aside her own issues, she
gave Cam a level look. “Is your trouble with the law?”
“No. I haven’t broken any
laws, and I haven’t been accused of any crimes. I don’t steal or
cheat. I can’t provide references, but I also don’t lie. I hope you
can trust me enough to hire me.”
Delaney was thinking that over when
the sound of an approaching vehicle had both women looking toward
the road. An SUV with the El Dorado County Sheriff’s insignia on
the side pulled into the small parking area near the retail area.
Sawyer stepped out, adjusting his duty belt. He spotted them and
raised a hand in a wave as he approached, gravel crunching under
his feet.
“Hey there, Laney.” He
climbed the steps and crossed to their table. There was a hitch in
his stride, so slight Delaney didn’t think anyone who didn’t know
Sawyer well would pick up on it. His focus sharpened and his gaze
locked on Cam.
As for Cam, her face blanched of all
color and her knuckles turned white as they gripped the arms of her
chair. Delaney worried she might faint dead away and topple out of
her seat. Cam had said her trouble wasn’t with the law, but Sawyer
sure as hell made her nervous.
“Sawyer.” Taking a leap of
faith, Delaney made her decision. She shot to her feet and grabbed
Sawyer’s arm. “Excuse us for a minute,” she muttered to Cam and
began towing him away from the table. “Come with me and I’ll get
you some coffee.” She pulled him through the door and into the
bakery.
Sawyer was still looking over his
shoulder when she let him go. “Who’s your friend? I don’t recognize
her.”
“That’s because she’s not
from around here.” She didn’t want Sawyer’s cop instincts kicking
in since she was pretty sure, despite what she’d said, his interest
could mean trouble for Cam.
Delaney poured him a cup of coffee,
leaving it black as he liked it, and slipping the cardboard sleeve
over the to-go cup and capping the top before handing it to
him.
“Thanks,
Laney.”
“Why do the McGrath boys
insist on calling me Laney?”
He gave his sexy half grin. “Because
you’re ours.”
She shook her head.
Sawyer’s claim was true. He’d always
treated her like a younger sister, but Walker didn’t see her that
way. There were times when Delaney wondered what made attraction
happen, because despite Sawyer being at the top of any woman’s
hot-and-sexy scale, she’d never felt one iota of attraction for
him. Nope. Her pheromones had only ever responded to his brother’s,
and look where that had gotten her. A big fat nowhere.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want
answers. “What’s going on with Walker? Did you catch who shot
him?”
Sawyer removed the lid to blow over
the steaming coffee before taking a sip. She waited because he
wasn’t one to rush into speech. “No to the second question. I’m
running down some leads, but right now I’ve got
nothing.”
“It could be Vance. He
could’ve hired someone to go after Walker. He always hated him,
probably because he knocked out his front teeth back in the day.”
She cocked her head. “I’m guessing you heard about the scene in the
Easy Money parking lot last week.”
“Yeah, I heard. I’m
looking into Norris. So far, I’m not seeing anything to connect him
to a couple guys shooting at my brother. I’m not giving up,
though.” Sawyer’s gaze held steady over the rim of his cup as he
took another sip. “Another thing, I don’t want you out by yourself
late at night. You, Keeley, any woman, needs to be cautious. And
never leave your drinks unattended. That’s all common sense, but
now I’m asking you to be particularly vigilant.”
“Why? What’s going
on?”
“There’ve been a number of
sexual assaults in mountain towns around here, and so far police
don’t have a suspect. Rohypnol has been a factor in most of them.
You need to be smart and stay safe.”
Delaney squelched the immediate desire
to punch someone. “Damn. I hate that. I hate that some monster out
there thinks it’s his right to drug and rape women. If I see any
guy trying something like that, I’ll kick him in the
balls.”
“I’d say leave the ball
kicking to me, but I heard you proved you could take care of
yourself when you went badass and dropped Norris.” He grinned.
“Good job. But this guy we’re looking for is much more dangerous
and won’t be as easily handled. Add in the calf killed on your
property, and I’m more than a little concerned. Be
careful.”
“The dead calf can’t be
tied to sexual assaults.”
“It doesn’t appear likely,
but the upshot is you’ve got plenty of reason to stay watchful.” He
nodded toward the door. “Tell your friend out there to be on guard
too.”
They walked out onto the deck. She’d
intended to steer him right past Cam and to his car, but she found
the deck empty and the application she’d given Cam on the table.
Sawyer shot her a look but only said, “Later, Laney.”
Once his vehicle disappeared around
the bend in the road, she went looking for the woman she was now
certain was in trouble and scared of cops.