Chapter 6 #2
“I’m good. I got a new recipe here you can try. I was up practically all morning trying to perfect them.” I reach into the display case to grab two of the shortbreads and bag them up. “Would you like a coffee as well?” I ask.
“Sure, please.” West reaches out for the bag, pulling a shortbread out and bringing it to his mouth for a bite. I watch as his face lights up and he lets out a gruff moan. My cheeks heat at the sound, and I have to swallow back a whimper.
“Goddamn, Jade. This is really good. How many of these you got? I bet the guys at the station would love these.”
I smile, pleased that he likes them so much. “There’s enough for everyone. I’ll just get your coffee and then I’ll fill a box for you.”
“You’re the best,” he says, and I have to hide my smile.
“So, how’s your morning going so far? It’s not often you’re not the first customer.”
“You keeping track of when I come in?” he teases, causing a warmth to pool under my skin.
“Just an observation,” I say quietly, handing him his coffee.
“I’m just teasing you.” He flashes me a smile that has my knees weakening. “My morning isn’t off to the best start, to be honest. I wasn’t supposed to start till later today, actually.”
“Everything okay?” I ask, waiting to see if he will say anything about the body.
“It could be better, that’s for sure. Had a rough call last night.”
“Mrs. Ira may have mentioned something,” I share.
“Fucking Ira.” West sighs. “What exactly did she say?”
“To be honest, I kind of zoned out. All I heard was that there was a murder.”
“That damn woman.” West rubs his hand down his face, and I feel sorry that I said anything. “Unfortunately, she is right, though. A young woman was found with stab wounds last night.”
At the mention of stab wounds, the blood from my face drains and my legs feel unsteady. My heart races and I grip the counter with white knuckles as I’m transported back to another time. Another stabbing.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” West says, placing his hand over mine and bringing me back to the moment. I was really hoping Mrs. Ira was wrong for once.
“No. It’s okay.” I smile sadly. “Just a shock to hear, you know?” I start to busy myself around the counter to keep my mind from going back to those memories. This week has really been messing with me.
West watches me for a beat, and I try not to shrink under his gaze. “You’re sure you’re good?” he asks, looking concerned.
“Mhm.” I nod, pasting on a fake smile.
West continues to watch me for a few passing seconds before speaking. “All right. Well, you have a lovely day, Jade. Say hi to Sarah for me.”
Once West leaves the bakery, I finally let out a breath. Silent tears roll down my cheeks before I quickly swipe them away and stuff down the pain.
Gathering myself together, I head towards the back to help Sarah and continue on with the day.
“I still can’t believe there was an actual murder here in Lavender Falls,” Sarah says later that day.
“I know.” I say, still in disbelief.
The whole town has been talking about it today.
It seems that everyone who comes into the bakery has heard the news.
I feel bad for West. I’m sure he never expected everyone to hear about it so fast. According to the rumours, no one knows who the victim is.
Apparently it wasn’t someone from here, which makes this whole thing even crazier.
I haven’t heard anything about an arrest yet, and in a town this small, news would be flying fast if there was.
“Have you heard anything on who did it?” I ask Sarah.
After West left, I tried to stay in the back as much as possible. Baking helps calm and distract me.
“When I left at noon, I ran into Ira and the knitters in the park, and according to them, there’s not even a suspect. I guess this is actually the second victim to be found in the same exact way.” Sarah shudders, and my hands still.
“Oh my God.” I gasp, bringing a shaky hand to cover my mouth.
“I know!” Sarah says with wide eyes. “I wonder what the hell is going on. Mrs. Ira said the first victim has been identified as a missing girl, but no one has heard anything on this second victim.”
I continue to readjust the display case and focus on my breathing when the chime of the door has me jumping.
“Jeeze. You good?” Sarah asks with furrowed brows.
“Sorry. Just all this talk of murder.” I shudder and greet the incoming customer.
We spend the rest of the day on our feet, serving the influx of summer customers, wiping down tables, and taking special orders. A mom came in and ordered a lavender cheesecake for her daughter's twenty-fifth birthday, and then we got an order for twelve dozen of our popular lemon glazed cookies.
I’m getting ready to close up shop, putting the mop away, when I hear the chime of the door.
“Sorry, we’re closing!” I yell from the closet in the hall.
“No worries. I’m actually just here for you.” The deep, familiar voice of Sheriff Donovan graces my ears.
“Oh, good evening, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” I ask, stepping out from the hall.
“I was just on my way home when I noticed the bakery lights were still on. Thought I’d stop in and see if you wanted a ride home?”
“Well, that’s very kind of you, but it’s a lovely night, so I don’t mind walking.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and put my arms through the sleeves of my jacket.
“Not going to lie, I’d rather you weren’t out walking.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “Is this about the murder?” I ask.
“It is.” He nods before stepping forward and placing his hand on the small of my back. “I’d feel a great deal of peace knowing you made it home safely.”
Focusing on the heat of his hand, I fumble my keys as my heart rate picks up.
To be honest, after my walk this morning, I’m kind of nervous to walk home all alone. I didn’t lie when I said it was a lovely night, but I also won’t lie and say a part of me doesn’t want him to drive me home.
“Well, all right. If you don’t mind then, I’d greatly appreciate it.” I smile up at him, noting his hand still on the small of my back.
We head out into the warm evening air, and I lock the door behind us before following West to the cruiser parked in front of the bakery. Taking my hand, he walks me to the passenger door, opening it and waiting for me to get in.
“Thank you.”
He winks and softly shuts the door, walking around to the other side.
My blood hums at being in such a close and confined proximity to him, and I try to focus on calming my nerves.
As we make our way through town, we chat about how beautiful the weather has been and our plans for the coming weekend.
West tells me he’ll have Sunday off and get to spend it on his parents’ farm helping his dad build a new chicken coop, and I tell him Sarah and I have plans to go out for dinner and a few drinks Saturday evening at Buckles.
Sunday will be spent in lounge wear while I get a head start on planning for the Kick Off to Summer event next weekend.
Between our conversations, I sneak little glances his way and feel like a little school girl the way my stomach swoops.
Far too soon, we pull into the driveway of my house, and I thank him for the ride.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says, resting his hand on the small of my back as we make our way up the steps.
“Can I drive you home tomorrow as well?” he asks when we reach the door, and my stomach flutters.
“I’d like that very much.”
“I’ll pick you up after work then.” He gives me a nod and makes sure I get in safely before walking down the steps back to his cruiser.
When I close the door softly behind me, Pumpkin comes running down the hall to greet me.
“Well hello, my darling kitten. What did you do all day?” I ask, scooping her in my arms where she nestles in the crook and begins to purr.
Four months ago, the local animal shelter held an adoption day event where I was supposed to drop off a bunch of baked goods, and while there, the cage of tiny kittens caught my eye.
As soon as I saw this fluffy ball of orange fur, I knew I just had to have her.
Pumpkin is a six-month-old Persian, and I’m forever thankful we found each other.
She’s the sweetest and most cuddly kitten, and I love her dearly.
After setting her down on my bed, I change into some comfy sweats and throw my hair into a messy bun before heading to the kitchen and starting a cup of tea.
Taking all my things into the living room, I sit down on the floor and open my sewing basket, grabbing a needle and thread to begin working on a new shirt.
A couple of years ago, Sarah’s grandma taught me how to embroider, and it’s become a relaxing hobby of mine.
I love adding little details to shoes and clothing to make them unique.
I finish threading the words Bakers gonna Bake onto the front and move underneath to add a cookie, cupcake, and pie slice for extra detail.
Once finished, I hold it up proudly. Sarah will get a kick out of this one.
The remainder of the evening is spent cuddling up on the couch with Pumpkin, eating left-over lasagna and checking emails.
I’m halfway through them when one without a subject line garners my attention. Clicking on to the email, I wait for the page to load before my blood runs cold and I start to shake.
On the screen before me is a familiar news article. It’s the one from the other day that I searched up regarding the ten-year anniversary of my attack. My fingers tremble as I continue to scroll through the email, and when I get to the bottom of the page, I gasp and slam the top down.
My breathing is rapid, and my head spins. I can still see the bold lettering of the email behind my eyelids, and I begin to tremble. Very slowly, I lift the lid of the laptop back open and swallow down a tremor when I’m face-to-face with big red lettering that says,
DOES HE KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE?
Pumpkin senses my unease and lets out a hiss before taking off down the hall. Swallowing my fear, I highlight the email address in the sender’s box and copy it into a search bar. When I get no hits, I let out a sigh and try to think.
Is the him they are referring to West? It’s the only logical explanation. But how do they know who I am? The only people other than myself who even know I’m alive are Detective Nick and the doctor who signed off on my death certificate.
Shutting down the computer, I double-check the locks on my doors and windows and head down the hall to my bedroom.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I change into my pajamas and push my dresser in front of my door. Turning on my bed-side lamp, I crawl under the covers, snuggling close to Pumpkin, and lie awake staring at the roof trying to calm my racing heart until I eventually drift off.