Page 26 of Killer Confections
She moves back into the kitchen, disappearing from sight. I wait until I know her employees are long gone and cut the engine. I climb out, flicking my cigarette onto the pavement before stepping on it. The crunch of my boot on the gravel is loud in the silence as I pull my balaclava up, grab Loxley’s gift out of the passenger seat, and stalk to the store.
This can be our first lesson. She needs to be mindful of what’s going on around her. She’s created the perfect scenario for any psychopath on the street to stumble across.
So, in the name of safety and accountability, I decide to let my presence be known. A little fear can go a long way.
Chapter Eleven
Loxley
Light music plays over the speaker I have on top of a baking rack as I organize the ingredients for tomorrow. Janette, Riley, and Scarlet helped me out a lot today, preparing most of the desserts for the display case in the front.
A few regulars from the surrounding areas have already RSVP’d back, assuring me they would be in attendance. The whole firm that works under my mom will also be here, along with anyone who may have seen my multiple ads displayed across the city and on a couple of social media apps that target the people living in the designated location.
We’re expecting a sizable turn out, and it has me working late into the night to make sure everything is perfect. The women offered to stay later, but Janette and Scarlet both have a family to get home to. Riley is in college and has finals coming up, so I encouraged them to turn in early.
I still have to work on their schedules tonight. Riley wants all afternoons, which I’m more than happy to give her. Scarlet and Janette will help me with the morning rush while their kids are at school. The few student hires I have will only be available once their morning classes are over. They’ll run the registers while the two other women help me keep up with demand.
I stopped my online orders for a few weeks to give us some time to finish prepping, but they’ll be starting back up next week. I’m going to need all hands on deck, to say the least.
In time, I’m sure I’ll acquire more staff, but untilbusiness is booming, the reliable workers I have will do just fine.
I’m absently humming to myself as I shove gallon after gallon of milk and eggs into the restaurant cooler when I hear what sounds like footsteps just outside the kitchen’s swing doors.
I pause, my hands hovering over the box of recently purchased ingredients. I turn my head, eyeing the circular glass window that leads to the store’s front. It doesn’t give me a good enough view to see the whole lobby.
My heart pounds as I rise from my crouched position, leaning my head closer to the door. “Hello? We’re not open yet.” I call.
There’s light rustling before my suspicions are confirmed.
There’s someone in my bakery.
Okay, this is terrifying, but I’m the owner of this establishment. I have the authority to demand whoever is on the other side of the door leave and call the police.
How did they get in?
Shit! I left the front door open to air out the lobby for tomorrow. I curse my stupidity. I should have had Janette lock up before she left since she’s my only other key holder, but I wasn’t thinking.
I scan the kitchen, locating a metal rod to one of the bakers racks I assembled a couple of days ago propped near the swing doors. It was an extra piece in case I needed it, and I’m glad I didn’t listen to Scarlet and toss it out.
I quickly snatch it up, placing both hands on it like I’m wielding a baseball bat before I shuffle to the door. My nerves are shot and I swallow, attempting to steady my thumping heart. I suck in a deep breath, bracing myself for what waits on the other side.
I give myself a miniature pep talk before shouldering the door with all of my strength and shouting fiercely as I emerge behind the cash register.
My gaze darts around the front room, taking in my surroundings as the pole in my hands follows with every move I make.
It’s empty?
I straighten, scowling as the rod comes down to my side and I walk around the counter. There’s no one here and I feel my whole body relax as the adrenaline slowly ebbs away. I place a hand over my chest, laughing out loud in relief.
As I attempt to retreat to the kitchen, I catch sight of the welcome mat near the entrance and stop cold in my tracks. There are massive boot prints on the floor, mud tracking across the white surface toward the bathrooms. I follow them, my hands tightening on the pole as I peer into the dark standard room.
I huff when I see nothing before following the retreating tracks that lead out of the restrooms and into the second entrance behind the counter.
Someone is in my fucking kitchen! How did they do that so quickly without me hearing them?
I’m on guard, growing tired of these games. Whoever this is, is about to spend the night in jail. I’m calling the cops regardless of their sob stories once I find them.
Let’s just hope I’m intimidating enough.
