Page 10 of The Hampton Beach Café 4
The three machines were lined up at the back of the room to minimize heat spilling into the café. Nine sealed plastic containers were lined up on the old bookcase next to them. Inside each one was the correct mixtures of different flours to make white, whole meal and hearty grain loaves. A rolled bag of dry yeast with a coffee measuring scoop next to it, a glass measuring jug, and a clay dish of flakes of sea salt lived at the end of the shelf.
From Alex: sure, put in another round of all three and delay the start for two hours. I won't be long.
Smiling again, she pressed the cancel button on each beeping machine.
To Alex: Drive safe, please.
Their routine of putting each machine on a delayed start every evening so that they would have fresh bread for the breakfast and brunch crowds was paying dividends, with most of their reviews mentioning the delicious fresh baked bread. So much so, in fact, that starting today they were putting on a second round of loaves to be ready around eleven just in time for the lunch rush.
As Frances poured each mixture in, she shuffled the containers along to make sure that they didn't accidentally leave boxes on the shelf for too long.
From Alex: Always x
Her heart leaped at the sight of that single x on the end of his text, followed immediately by her stomach dropping like she was in an elevator set to just faster than was comfortable.
Oh no,she thought,I can't have a crush on Alex…surely?
She rolled her eyes. Who uses the word crush anyway? What was she, fourteen?
There was a loud bang from the front of the store, and Frances jumped, turning to look at where the noise was coming from.
The silence in the café was almost eerie. A thin stream of music from the tiny speaker in the kitchen added to the now creepy ambiance. Shaking off the odd feeling, Frances headed towards the front determinedly. As she caught sight of the front door, her heart sank—the lower glass panel on the door now bore a spiderweb of cracked glass. Frances could just about make out the red brick that lay on the other side of the door.
She reached for her phone to call the police, but before she got the phone halfway to her ear, she noticed something strange about the brick—the top surface of it was white.
Squinting at it, she canceled the call and stepped closer—it was paper. There was a note attached to the brick, she realized as her stomach twisted again.
Moving quickly, she scurried behind the counter to retrieve the door key, arguing with herself the whole way there and back.
She shouldn't unlock the door. What if the person who threw it was still there?
She should call the police—this was rampant destruction now.
If she opened the door, Alex would be upset with her for not calling him and for doing something potentially dangerous.
That last one gave her more pause than she would have liked to admit, but somehow, she still found herself unlocking the door and stepping through it.
Carefully, she pinched the corner of the note attached to the brick with a green rubber band and pulled it free. With a few wiggles back and forth, she managed to pull it free to unfold it. Frances wasn't sure why she was so nervous about unfolding the thing. It wasn't like it was going to be Anthrax or something…
Her breath caught in her throat as the note fell open, revealing a single word hastily scrawled in purple highlighter.
“Crook?” she read aloud, and all trepidation evaporated.
What in the world was that supposed to mean?
Frances stood from the crouching position she had adopted and looked up and down the street—they must have moved fast to clear the whole street before she had gotten out there…unless they had ducked behind one of the fences or into one of the doorways and was still there.
Watching her.
Suddenly the early morning fresh air felt bitterly cold in her lungs, and Frances shoved the note into her pocket and stepped back into the shop, locking the door behind her.
Now she dialed the non-emergency police number…it was definitely not an emergency because there was absolutely no reason to be scared.
At all…
Right?
SIX
