okay, the woman probably would die before the ambulance got there. She choked back a sob.
The woman was trying to talk, “When?” she asked. “When?”
“I don’t know when,” Sadie said, wondering what the woman was trying to ask her. When would she die? When would the ambulance come? Sadie just didn’t know.
The woman still was alive when the ambulance pulled up. There was a flurry of activity as paramedics erupted from the ambulance and two police cruisers with lights flashing disgorged police officers onto the street.
A paramedic knelt next to Sadie and pried the woman’s fingers from Sadie’s hand. Her fingers had begun to go numb and Sadie wiggled them to get the feeling back.
“When?”
The woman’s eyes opened wide as a police officer helped Sadie up, and she reached out, begging Sadie to come back to her. But the paramedics moved in around the woman and Sadie no longer could see her. She picked up Mr. Bradshaw and moved away, hoping the paramedics could perform a miracle so the woman wouldn’t die.
Sadie stood at the edge of the circle of activity surrounding the woman until the ambulance pulled away. Then she sighed deeply, set Mr. Bradshaw on the ground, and turned to walk back to her shop, the dull ache of sadness settling in her chest.
“Mr. Bradshaw,” she said, “I don’t know what this world is coming to. I’ve never seen that woman before in my life and yet she’s come to Seagrove to be stabbed in the back. It’s inconceivable.”
Passing The Bakery, the shop next to hers, Sadie noticed a light on. She tapped quietly on the door to see if John was in. It was possible he’d just forgotten a light when he’d left that afternoon. But her tap on the glass brought John to the door. He peered through the window and smiled when he saw her and opened the door.
“Sadie,” he said. “What are you doing out so late?”
He ushered her into the shop and Mr. Bradshaw came in with them and went to see if any mice had dared to take up residence since he’d been there that morning.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Why are you here? Your alarm will be ringing in a couple of hours,” she said.
Since John had taken over the bakery, they’d become close friends and she knew his routine. Not that it was difficult to guess bakers hours, the pastries had to be ready at the crack of dawn.
“I had the idea for a new pastry,” he said. “I’ve been perfecting my recipe.”
“You’ll be exhausted tomorrow,” she said. “How will you make it through the day?”
“I’ll let Liza run the shop in the morning. I’ll go sleep when she arrives and come back to help close up,” he said.
“It’s the only way I can manage new recipes. I’m too busy when the shop is open to concentrate on what I’m doing.”
“Well, I, for one, thank you. Your pastries are always fabulous. You have a gift,” she said. And it wasn’t hyperbole, he really did have a gift for baked goods.
“What are you doing out so late?” he asked. “It’s not like you. Here, let me make you some hot chocolate, it will make you sleepy.” Sadie sat at the counter and filled him in while John made two mugs of hot chocolate.
“I was doing inventory and neglected Mr. Bradshaw. About midnight he insisted I take him for his evening constitutional. So we went out.”
“You were doing inventory at midnight? Surely you can do that during the day when Betty is running the shop? Or vice versa?”
“Oh John, I have such a huge problem.” She sighed and took a sip of the rich hot chocolate. It was heaven and her shoulders dropped a little.
“My store is sprouting oddities all over the place. We’re finding so many items that aren’t on the inventory sheets. Betty and I don’t understand it. We document everything as it comes in, and yet we’ve found more than a hundred things that aren’t on the books. I have to
The woman was trying to talk, “When?” she asked. “When?”
“I don’t know when,” Sadie said, wondering what the woman was trying to ask her. When would she die? When would the ambulance come? Sadie just didn’t know.
The woman still was alive when the ambulance pulled up. There was a flurry of activity as paramedics erupted from the ambulance and two police cruisers with lights flashing disgorged police officers onto the street.
A paramedic knelt next to Sadie and pried the woman’s fingers from Sadie’s hand. Her fingers had begun to go numb and Sadie wiggled them to get the feeling back.
“When?”
The woman’s eyes opened wide as a police officer helped Sadie up, and she reached out, begging Sadie to come back to her. But the paramedics moved in around the woman and Sadie no longer could see her. She picked up Mr. Bradshaw and moved away, hoping the paramedics could perform a miracle so the woman wouldn’t die.
Sadie stood at the edge of the circle of activity surrounding the woman until the ambulance pulled away. Then she sighed deeply, set Mr. Bradshaw on the ground, and turned to walk back to her shop, the dull ache of sadness settling in her chest.
“Mr. Bradshaw,” she said, “I don’t know what this world is coming to. I’ve never seen that woman before in my life and yet she’s come to Seagrove to be stabbed in the back. It’s inconceivable.”
Passing The Bakery, the shop next to hers, Sadie noticed a light on. She tapped quietly on the door to see if John was in. It was possible he’d just forgotten a light when he’d left that afternoon. But her tap on the glass brought John to the door. He peered through the window and smiled when he saw her and opened the door.
“Sadie,” he said. “What are you doing out so late?”
He ushered her into the shop and Mr. Bradshaw came in with them and went to see if any mice had dared to take up residence since he’d been there that morning.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Why are you here? Your alarm will be ringing in a couple of hours,” she said.
Since John had taken over the bakery, they’d become close friends and she knew his routine. Not that it was difficult to guess bakers hours, the pastries had to be ready at the crack of dawn.
“I had the idea for a new pastry,” he said. “I’ve been perfecting my recipe.”
“You’ll be exhausted tomorrow,” she said. “How will you make it through the day?”
“I’ll let Liza run the shop in the morning. I’ll go sleep when she arrives and come back to help close up,” he said.
“It’s the only way I can manage new recipes. I’m too busy when the shop is open to concentrate on what I’m doing.”
“Well, I, for one, thank you. Your pastries are always fabulous. You have a gift,” she said. And it wasn’t hyperbole, he really did have a gift for baked goods.
“What are you doing out so late?” he asked. “It’s not like you. Here, let me make you some hot chocolate, it will make you sleepy.” Sadie sat at the counter and filled him in while John made two mugs of hot chocolate.
“I was doing inventory and neglected Mr. Bradshaw. About midnight he insisted I take him for his evening constitutional. So we went out.”
“You were doing inventory at midnight? Surely you can do that during the day when Betty is running the shop? Or vice versa?”
“Oh John, I have such a huge problem.” She sighed and took a sip of the rich hot chocolate. It was heaven and her shoulders dropped a little.
“My store is sprouting oddities all over the place. We’re finding so many items that aren’t on the inventory sheets. Betty and I don’t understand it. We document everything as it comes in, and yet we’ve found more than a hundred things that aren’t on the books. I have to
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