the store and I have a feeling it’s going to be a long meeting.”
“It’s not a problem,” Sheri assured her sister. “In fact, if it’s time for you to stop working here to focus solely on the bakery, it’s all right. Jenny, Abe and I can handle things here and if I find myself shorthanded, I can always hire a new part-timer.”
There was a long silence from Marlene. “Are you sure?” she finally asked. “I really am excited to get the bakery up and running as soon as possible.”
Sheri smiled into the phone. She knew between the work on the bakery and her relationship with Detective Frank Delaney, Marlene had finally found all the pieces she needed for her happiness. Working in the store had never really been part of Marlene’s dreams.
“I’m positive,” Sheri replied. “I don’t want to see you here unless you’re shopping for something you need to create culinary magic.”
“Sheri, you’re the best,” Marlene said, her relief evident in her tone.
Sheri laughed. “Just build that bakery and invite me as a special guest on opening day.”
“You know that goes without saying.”
The two spoke for another few minutes, talking about their eldest sister, Roxy, who had moved in with Detective Steve Kincaid and his seven-year-old son. Roxy ran a successful restaurant called the Dollhouse and specialized in hearty breakfasts and delightfully fresh and original lunch fare.
Neither of them mentioned Aunt Liz or the stalled case that had all three sisters barely clinging to any hope that she would be found alive.
When the call finally ended, the rest of the day remained busy. Thankfully when it was time for Jennifer to leave, Abe Winslow had arrived to take up the slack.
The two of them stayed busy with customers until seven. By eight Sheri decided it was time to close up shop. She locked up the front door and then together she and Abe left through the back.
“Busy day,” he said as they stepped outside into the warm night.
“Hopefully we’re just going to get busier.”
“I could work more hours if you needed me to,” Abe said.
Sheri smiled at the older man. He’d taken the job of working here in the late afternoon and evenings after his wife had died. He’d told Sheri that the silence of their cabin had been overwhelming after she was gone.
“I might need you to work more hours. Marlene isn’t going to be working here anymore. We’ll see how things go. Good night, Abe.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said and headed toward his old Chevy parked in the lot next to her pickup.
As she pulled out of the lot, she thought about Abe. He’d initially been a suspect in Liz’s disappearance when he’d told Sheri and Marlene that he’d asked Liz out and she’d turned him down.
But he’d quickly been cleared of any wrongdoing. At the time Liz had disappeared Abe had been spending the night at his brother’s home in Hershey. The brother and several other family members had confirmed his alibi.
Thoughts of Abe halted as Sheri noticed car lights behind hers. She slowed to allow the car to pass, but the car slowed, as well. She sped up and the vehicle behind her mirrored the action.
No reason to believe anyone is following me, she thought. And yet when she turned off the highway and onto the narrow gravel road that would eventually lead to the lane that was her driveway into her cottage, the car made the turn right behind her.
An edge of apprehension crept up her spine. There were few people who used this road and she couldn’t remember the last time any vehicle had shadowed her from the shop to her home.
Stop being silly, she told herself. There were other people who lived in this area. She didn’t own the road that continued past her driveway and on up the mountain. It was probably just the thought of somebody kidnapping Aunt Liz that had her unusually on edge.
She couldn’t tell the make or color of the car that was behind her. Darkness had fallen and all she could discern was the brilliance of the headlights.
As she turned into the lane that led to her cottage, she could have sworn that the car behind her came to a near halt, and then zoomed on and disappeared from sight.
Sheri hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until it expelled out of her in a deep whoosh. She parked her truck and when she stepped out, a sense of uneasiness settled over her again as she heard the sounds of Highway barking raucously from his pen.
Nerves jittering, she quickly unlocked her front door, stepped inside and then locked the door behind her. She went to the kitchen and looked out the window where Highway was at the back of his fenced pen facing the forest and barking the kind of sound that indicated danger.
The dog was well trained not to bark at four-legged creatures or any of the wildlife that populated the area. Highway only acted this way when there was a two-legged predator in the woods.
Sheri opened the window above her kitchen sink, her heart beating an abnormally rapid rhythm. “Highway...inside!”
The dog turned in her direction, looked back toward the forest and gave a sharp bark, and then headed to the doggie door.
As he entered the kitchen, Sheri flipped the latches on the door that would keep anything else from crawling inside. She hurried back to the window and peered outside, wondering who or what had set Highway off.
The darkness betrayed no movement, no discernible figure, but that didn’t slow the frantic beat of Sheri’s heart. She tried to tell herself she was overreacting.
Still, she went from room to room, turning on lights and checking windows for any sign of an intruder. Her blood chilled as she found an unlocked window open an inch in the spare bedroom.
Had she unlocked the window last week when the weather had been so nice? Had she opened the window to let in some fresh air? She couldn’t remember. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want to be here alone.
She wasn’t even aware that she had memorized Jimmy Carmani’s phone number until she punched it into her phone. He answered on the first ring. “Jimmy, can you come to my house?”
“On my way,” he replied, and hung up.
Jimmy had been at home when he’d gotten the call from Sheri. He hadn’t bothered to run a comb through his thick, unruly hair. He hadn’t taken the time to change from his jeans and polo shirt. He simply grabbed his gun and car keys, jumped in his car and headed out.
As he tore out of his driveway, all he could think of was the faint simmer of stress he’d heard in Sheri’s voice. She hadn’t specified anything wrong, but the phone call directly to him was definitely an anomaly.
He hoped he didn’t find her holding a shotgun on somebody again. She was obviously territorial about her property, but her going up against a hunter’s loaded gun with her useless shotgun was not just foolish, it was suicidal.
If
