Page 75 of Death and Donuts

“Is that your friend?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“I’m her best friend,” Cross said.

“Naw. That’s Vena,” Harper said, still eyeing Shepard. “I don’t think you’d be good at hide and seek.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“You’re too big. You won’t fit anywhere.”

He nodded. “True, but I’m excellent at finding people. When we have time, we’ll play.”

Her eyes lit. “Really?”

“Really. But for today, why don’t you go back to your grandpa’s house.”

“Only if you promise to come back and play.”

“I promise, but it’ll be a few days before I can.”

“Fine,” she said with a sigh.

We watched to make sure she went into her grandpa’s house okay before going into mine.

Grabbing my largest suitcase, I filled it with everything I thought I’d need for a week, including my recipe notebook and favorite whisk.

“I don’t think you need that,” Shepard said, eyeing the whisk.

“Maybe not, but I have room in my suitcase. I’m a stress baker if you don't know this about me. It’s my happy place. Some people have a hoodie or blanket that comforts them. I just need a kitchen and my whisk.”

“Then, by all means, bring the whisk. Ready to go?”

I took one last look around the house and nodded.

Shepard loaded my suitcase into the back of the SUV while Cross and I got in.

I swiveled in my seat to look back at Cross. “What were you doing when Shepard messaged you?”

“Checking in with the project manager at our place. Since I spent last night looking for Adriel, and I knew today would likely be more of the same, I stopped by in person.

“It’s really taking shape. The inspectors approved the rough-in work, and they’re ready to move on to drywall while the HVAC people finish on the roof. So we’re on track to have the appliances delivered and installed on Saturday.”

The news was exciting and the only ray of sunshine in an otherwise rather bleak week.

As Shepard got in and started the engine, my phone buzzed with a message.

Mrs. Hunter: Here’s the list of what we need. If you can’t find something, call me.

“Who is it?” Shepard asked as I scanned the list.

“Mrs. Hunter. She sent a list.”

She wanted books, their laptops, Mr. Hunter’s slippers, her housecoat and lap blanket, his spare reading glasses, her coffee cup warmer…the list went on.

Shepard and Cross both glanced at it over my shoulder.

“Do they normally pack like that when they go on their excavations?” Shepard asked.

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