Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3) by Janel Gradowski Page B
Authors: Janel Gradowski
Ads: Link
about happy, loving energy being attached to the garment, too. There was enough of a dark cloud hanging over their heads because of the unsolved murder. She needed every bit of good she could accumulate to combat the evil vibes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Who would've thought a clothing rack could be so cantankerous? Amy checked to her left and right for cars. Luckily, the coast was clear. No cars to blow past and sway the dresses. She squatted slightly, wrapped her hands around the upright pole, and straightened her legs. All of the lunges and squats doled out by the trainers at the gym had finally paid off. Amy lifted the first set of wheels over the curb. The plastic-sheathed dresses quivered from the motion but didn't break into a potentially disastrous, full-tilt shimmy. She pulled the rack backward until the second set of wheels hit the curb. A quick change in position, a rather unladylike grunt from the effort, and she finally had the rack onto the nice, smooth sidewalk.
The journey from her car, across the pothole-filled parking lot with a cargo of expensive dresses on a tippy, top-heavy portable rack, had fulfilled her anxiety quotient for the day. Ferrying the dresses was easier the first time around, a few days earlier, when she had made multiple trips to the parking lot, carrying the dresses to the car in her arms. But after the first trip into the store that morning, the owner had insisted she take the rack to finish the dress-returning task. At least Amy could do a little retail therapy to help massage out the newly formed kinks in her patience.
Michelle held open the door of Past To Present and said, "I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you there's a handicap ramp in the curb a few doors down."
"It's okay." Amy held her arms up and flexed her biceps. "I can let my Super Woman side out to play once in a while."
Michelle laughed as she helped maneuver the wobbly rack through the doorway. Inside the shop the small wheels hummed over the vinyl flooring as Amy pushed the collection of rejected wedding and matron of honor dresses toward the counter. She exchanged the rejected clothing for a refund of her deposit. It hadn't been a traditional way to pick out a wedding gown, but it worked for Carla. That's all that mattered. Once the paperwork was completed, Amy made a quick circuit of the store. Used clothing shops were like the treasure troves of busy pirates. There were always new clothing jewels arriving. A baby blue circle skirt had to come home to her closet. After making the purchase, she bid farewell to Michelle.
Outside, the midmorning air was warm and a little humid from the sunshine evaporating the dew that had formed overnight. Perfect weather for the beginning of wedding season. The time of year when venues were booked solid a year in advance. Carla's loft or Amy's backyard would technically work for the wedding, but Amy hoped to find someplace more special. Except she was running out of time. Since many other things for the wedding were falling into place, there was no reason that detail wouldn't fall from the sky and turn out perfect too. Believe and it will happen. That was her newly adopted mantra.
As she turned to get in her car, Amy noticed movement inside the vacant coffee shop. She stopped for a few seconds to see if any of the figures on the other side of the dusty glass looked familiar. The crunch of tires rolling over the parking lot asphalt drew her attention. A black Mercedes sedan pulled into a parking space in front of the coffee shop. The always-elegant Bridget Mahoney got out. She smoothed down her oyster-colored skirt then waved at Amy.
"Hello! I have some news for you," she called. "If you have a few minutes, come chat with me."
Amy tossed the shopping bag onto the passenger seat and slammed her car door shut. Talking with Bridget was always interesting, especially since Amy had asked her to look into the possibility of other downtown businesses being pressured by the extortionist. The wealthy
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Who would've thought a clothing rack could be so cantankerous? Amy checked to her left and right for cars. Luckily, the coast was clear. No cars to blow past and sway the dresses. She squatted slightly, wrapped her hands around the upright pole, and straightened her legs. All of the lunges and squats doled out by the trainers at the gym had finally paid off. Amy lifted the first set of wheels over the curb. The plastic-sheathed dresses quivered from the motion but didn't break into a potentially disastrous, full-tilt shimmy. She pulled the rack backward until the second set of wheels hit the curb. A quick change in position, a rather unladylike grunt from the effort, and she finally had the rack onto the nice, smooth sidewalk.
The journey from her car, across the pothole-filled parking lot with a cargo of expensive dresses on a tippy, top-heavy portable rack, had fulfilled her anxiety quotient for the day. Ferrying the dresses was easier the first time around, a few days earlier, when she had made multiple trips to the parking lot, carrying the dresses to the car in her arms. But after the first trip into the store that morning, the owner had insisted she take the rack to finish the dress-returning task. At least Amy could do a little retail therapy to help massage out the newly formed kinks in her patience.
Michelle held open the door of Past To Present and said, "I'm sorry! I forgot to tell you there's a handicap ramp in the curb a few doors down."
"It's okay." Amy held her arms up and flexed her biceps. "I can let my Super Woman side out to play once in a while."
Michelle laughed as she helped maneuver the wobbly rack through the doorway. Inside the shop the small wheels hummed over the vinyl flooring as Amy pushed the collection of rejected wedding and matron of honor dresses toward the counter. She exchanged the rejected clothing for a refund of her deposit. It hadn't been a traditional way to pick out a wedding gown, but it worked for Carla. That's all that mattered. Once the paperwork was completed, Amy made a quick circuit of the store. Used clothing shops were like the treasure troves of busy pirates. There were always new clothing jewels arriving. A baby blue circle skirt had to come home to her closet. After making the purchase, she bid farewell to Michelle.
Outside, the midmorning air was warm and a little humid from the sunshine evaporating the dew that had formed overnight. Perfect weather for the beginning of wedding season. The time of year when venues were booked solid a year in advance. Carla's loft or Amy's backyard would technically work for the wedding, but Amy hoped to find someplace more special. Except she was running out of time. Since many other things for the wedding were falling into place, there was no reason that detail wouldn't fall from the sky and turn out perfect too. Believe and it will happen. That was her newly adopted mantra.
As she turned to get in her car, Amy noticed movement inside the vacant coffee shop. She stopped for a few seconds to see if any of the figures on the other side of the dusty glass looked familiar. The crunch of tires rolling over the parking lot asphalt drew her attention. A black Mercedes sedan pulled into a parking space in front of the coffee shop. The always-elegant Bridget Mahoney got out. She smoothed down her oyster-colored skirt then waved at Amy.
"Hello! I have some news for you," she called. "If you have a few minutes, come chat with me."
Amy tossed the shopping bag onto the passenger seat and slammed her car door shut. Talking with Bridget was always interesting, especially since Amy had asked her to look into the possibility of other downtown businesses being pressured by the extortionist. The wealthy
Similar Books
