“He was at the garage when the tow truck dropped me off.”
“Oh?” she says. “How come?”
“The owner of the garage is one of his best friends.”
“Ohh… What’s his name?”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s an asshole. That’s all you need to know.”
She parks in the back of the bakery, and I quickly get out before she asks me why. The last thing I want to talk about is Trent and why I think he’s a prick.
After Ford dropped me off last night, I couldn’t sleep. I had nightmares about that night. I couldn’t see. Panic gripped my throat, choking me of breath. I woke up gasping for air, reliving the pain I felt all over my body.
The last place I thought I would end up was at Trent’s garage. Even if my van hadn’t broken down, I would have ended up there to deliver the large order that came in yesterday evening through the online ordering system.
Chris and Trent haven't come by the bakery since that night, and I made sure not to go to Trent's for any car repairs. It’s most likely why my van was in such terrible shape.
I unlock the back door and disarm the alarm, but something in the pit of my stomach tells me something isn’t right andfeels off. I turn on the lights. I take a quick look around the back hallway and then glance at the display, which is exactly as expected. Empty. Everything is neatly put away. The rich smell of vanilla and butterscotch is heavy in the air.
Katie walks in. I shut the door and flip the lock. When I walk to the kitchen, I see something on one of the prep counters. There is a weird sound. Whatever it is, it’s moving like a worm.
“What is that?” Katie says when she walks into the kitchen, the door swinging back and forth.
“It’s a rat,” I tell her, stepping forward cautiously.
Katie grabs my arm, causing my stomach to drop. “Is that…?”
“Blood,” I finish for her, taking two steps forward, and my heart slams into my ribs.
Next to the dying rat, big red letters in blood spell out SHHHH.
“What the hell?” Katie says,
“Don’t touch anything, Katie,” I rush out. I swallow thickly.
She nods nervously. "Who would do this?" she asks, pulling out her phone to take a picture while I stare at the dying rat covered in blood.
“I don’t know,” I say, my head falling into my hands.
But I do know. Whoever wants me to keep quiet. Is it Trent? Chris? Ford? It wouldn't make sense if it were Trent or Chris. It's been four years; why would they threaten me to be quiet now?
After ten minutes, Danny shows up, knocking on the front door. I had to close the shop for the day. It’s not like I could serve customers with a dead rat on the prep counter.
“Are you alright?” he asks with a look of apprehension as he walks in.
I’m not surprised he came alone. I thought that usually when there was this sort of thing, cops would bring a partner or backup.
“Yes…and no.”
“Let me take a look,” Danny says, turning down the radio clipped to his uniform when the dispatcher addresses another call.
“Be our guest,” Katie replies in a snarky voice.
She doesn't like Danny because of the date and how I ended up in the bathroom stall. However, I can also sense her fear in the way she bites her thumbnail. Hell, I'm scared.
Danny walks inside the kitchen to check it out while Katie and I stand right outside the door. I steady my breath, trying to calm the panic.
Someone broke into the bakery. There are only two exits, and none of them look like someone has broken inside. I armed the alarm, so it would’ve gone off. Katie was the last one to lock up. I have cameras by the register. There is no reason she would do something like this. I shift to the side and grab my phone, scanning the kitchen for anything amiss but finding nothing.