“Half the town thinks that. But she is a good baker. And she makes an excellent donut.”
“Because it’s laden with a mountain of fat,” I mutter.
“Exactly. Heidi came to me a week ago and asked if I’d consider helping her figure out a way to reduce the fat content in her donuts. She wants to offer her customers low-fat options. But I’m not the baker here. You are. I told her I couldn’t help her, and you’re way too busy in our kitchen to help her in hers, so I did a little market research and came up with another idea.” She hops down from the stool, pulls out her work bag and hands me a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s an idea I came up with in one of my marketing classes.” Sarah flushes. “I didn’t want to tell anyone until I’d finished my first semester. Except Luke. He knows, of course. But I’ve gone back to school part-time to get my business degree.”
“Sarah! That’s great!”
“It’s all online nowadays so it’s super convenient, but I am burning the candle at both ends. That’s why I hired Betty Jean, because we need the help. But you’re right, I should have okay’d it with you first.”
I read through Sarah’s marketing plan. Then I read it again for good measure. “You want me to supply muffins for Heidi’s bakery?”
“And the Piggly Wiggly. If you think you have time. Let’s face it, Lucy. You make the world’s best muffins. Why shouldn’t the rest of the planet get in on it?”
Sarah leans over my shoulder and points to a column on the page. “We can market them as Lucy’s World-Famous Muffins. It’s a win-win for everyone. Heidi can offer her customers some lower fat options, and we can use the local grocery store for market testing to see if we want to sell your muffins on a larger scale one day. But for now, if my numbers are right, just selling to Heidi and the Piggly Wiggly will increase our profit margin. You can pay Will off faster. Or me. If you decide to take me up on the loan offer.”
I’m stunned. “And Heidi has agreed to sell my muffins in her bakery?”
“She’s not dumb, Lucy. She knows it’ll be good for her business. Look, hiring Betty Jean gives you more time in the kitchen doing what you do best. Baking. And it gives me some time off to study. But if you don’t want her around, I’ll make something up and let her go. We can find someone else.”
“Find someone else? Just when I’m getting used to her?”
Sarah laughs. “I hate to say this, but you’re actually beginning to sound just like her.”
“Bite your tongue.” Boy, have I gotten everything wrong lately. First, there was the Jefferson Pike investigation. I was so certain that Archie must have killed his partner. Then there was the thing with Shirley. And now Sarah. I think my Spidey sense needs an oil change. “So we’re good? Still partners?”
“Always.”
“In that case, I’m okay keeping the loan the way it is. Will doesn’t mind, and I don’t either anymore.” I playfully cringe. “And, do you mind if I leave a couple of hours early today? I promised Will I’d meet him for something really important. I’ll be back by two to do final cleanup. As a matter of fact, I’ll show Betty Jean how to do it.”
Sarah, who hates final cleanup more than anything, grins. “You’re on.”
At quarter to noon, I hang up my apron and grab my car keys. Betty Jean is in the kitchen, chopping apples. “Do you mind covering the counter? I need to do something. I already ran it past Sarah.”
“Jeez. What did you people do without me? Sure, go on.” She puts down the knife and waves me off.
“Thanks. When I get back, I’ll go through the final cleanup with you.”
“Oh goody. I can hardly wait.”
I chuckle to myself, then head outside into the bright sunlight. It’s a gorgeous December day, but suddenly my stomach is curled in knots. Poor Will. What’s going to happen to him?
I click on Paco’s leash. “C’mon, boy. We’re going to visit Cindy.” He happily jumps in the car.
When we arrive at the police station, the parking lot is full. Five dark-colored sedans take up the first row. “Those are FBI cars,” I say to Paco. “What are they still doing here?”
I spot Will’s car in the next row. My heart is beating so fast, it feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. I head into the station. Cindy looks up at me, but she doesn’t smile. “Lucy,” she says in a low voice. “Now isn’t a good time.” Paco starts to go through his trick routine, but she barely looks at him. He sits up, dejected.
“What’s going on? Where’s Will?”
“Will Cunningham?” She shrugs. “I think he came to see Travis.”
“Why is the FBI still here? I thought they took Archie Clements yesterday and left.”
“That was the plan. Not that the FBI tells me anything, mind you, but after you left last night all heck broke loose.”