Sandy Bay Series Box Set 5 Read online

  Jack winked flirtatiously, and Meghan felt her heart flutter. Though they had been dating for the better part of a year, Meghan still had butterflies in her stomach when she saw Jack’s handsome face. His bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and muscular build sent shivers down Meghan’s spine, sometimes, when she least expected it. Today, the couple was trying out a new pet salon, and the sight of Jack in his drenched t-shirt was causing Meghan to blush.

  “Okay, okay,” he said playfully, putting down the hose and holding up his hands in a fake surrender. “We’ll wash the dogs.”

  Meghan smiled. “I knew we should have picked the drop-off option,” she teased. “We could have dropped all of the dogs off for the afternoon, and they would have been groomed and ready for us when we returned.”

  Jack shrugged. “That didn’t sound like fun,” he protested. “Washing the dogs ourselves sounded like a good date idea, and it saved us fifty bucks.”

  Meghan laughed. “I know you love saving money.”

  Jack’s face darkened. “I hate that I have to even pay my hard-earned money to get my dog washed and groomed,” he said flatly.

  Meghan looked at Dash, Jack’s dog. She reached down and scratched his belly. “Jack, the dogs deserve a little treat now and then,” she insisted. “I know you would rather just hose Dash down at your place, but this is good for him. They even threw in a free nail-trimming and teeth-cleaning. You can’t do that at home.”

  “Fair enough,” Jack admitted as he picked up Fiesta and began to soap her ears. “This place is pretty nice.”

  “It is,” Meghan said as she glanced around, admiring the gray tile floors and large picture windows. “Jackie recommended it. She said that her friend from beauty school got sick of doing human hair and switched to dogs.”

  “I’m sure dogs are easier clients to handle,” he laughed as Fiesta licked his fingers. “Hey, speaking of difficult clients, how is the funeral business going, babe?”

  Meghan frowned at her boyfriend. “That isn’t funny, Jack.”

  The smile vanished from Jack’s face. “I’m sorry, Meghan,” he said, stepping forward to pull Meghan into his arms. “I was just making a joke.”

  “It isn’t funny,” she muttered, pushing away from Jack’s embrace. “It was one thing to have the emails and messages on social media about the funeral business, but to have that old man come into my bakery and ask in person? That was too much. It isn’t funny to me.”

  Jack reached for Meghan again. He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry,” he repeated as Meghan eventually leaned into the hug. “I know you’ve been riled up about it. I shouldn’t have made the joke.”

  Meghan sighed, breathing in the familiar scent of Jack’s cologne as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s just so strange,” she lamented. “I don’t know enough about the internet or social media to solve this mystery, and I don’t know what I am going to do if it continues.”

  “Leave it to me. I will make sure that this doesn’t turn into an issue,” Jack assured her as he gently stroked her hair. “Your job is to run that bakery like the champ that you are, and to let me know if anything else comes up. Have you heard anything else since that man came into the shop?”

  Meghan shook her head. “No,” she told him. “Nothing. We’ve been monitoring all of our accounts, and I have been reading every message and email.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “I am keeping an eye on things as well. You just keep me in the loop, Meghan, and I will take care of you. I’m having some of the police officers monitor the bakery, and Molly, our IT specialist at the station, is running some reports on your social media accounts.”

  “That’s great, honey,” she said. “Thank you for making those arrangements.”

  “Of course,” Jack whispered as he leaned down to kiss Meghan’s cheek. “You’re my girl, Meghan. I want to keep you safe. My suspicion is that this whole thing is a prank, or worse, some kind of money scam. Just make sure you are watching your bank accounts, and if someone strange asks you for money, let me know.”

  The couple jumped apart quickly as Dash shook his body, spraying them with water and soaking Meghan’s hair. “Not my hair,” she cried, patting the bandana that had been holding back her long, dark locks. “I just washed it yesterday! Dash, why did you have to shake out all of the water on us?”

  Jack struggled to hold back his laughter. “Didn’t someone just say that the pets deserve a treat? Well, I guess Dash also deserved a laugh.”

  Meghan smiled in spite of herself. She reached for the damp blue towel hanging from the rack and pulled the soggy bandana out of her hair. “Our dogs sure keep us on our toes, don’t they?”

  Jack grinned, and suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Through the window in the door, Meghan could see it was a tall, thin woman with long black hair. Meghan opened the door. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hello!” the woman greeted them as she stepped into the room. “I’m Hilda, the owner.”

  “Oh, so you know my friend, Jackie,” Meghan replied in delight. “She said you went to beauty school together.”

  “We did,” Hilda nodded. “How are you enjoying Woof? It’s my first venture into a pet salon, but given how nasty people can be sometimes, it seemed like an easier business than the hair salon I used to run.”

  Meghan smiled warmly. “Woof is just adorable,” she told Hilda. “We’ve loved the self-service option for the dogs, right babe?”

  Jack nodded politely. “It’s a nice setup,” he agreed.

  Hilda grinned, revealing jagged teeth that shocked Meghan. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said as she produced a folder from her apron. “I wanted to introduce myself and drop off the bill. The payment information is inside. Thank you, and enjoy the rest of your visit.”

  Jack and Meghan waved goodbye, and Jack reached for the folder. “Let’s see the damage,” he said. “It can’t be too much, especially since we washed the dogs ourselves…”

  Meghan watched as Jack’s eyes nearly bulged out of his face as he examined the bill. “It’s three-hundred dollars,” he yelped as Meghan bit her lip. “We washed the dogs ourselves! This can’t be right…”

  Meghan put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I should have known it would be expensive,” she admitted as she pried the bill from his hands. “Jackie mentioned that Hilda was an upscale kind of gal. Look, let me take care of the bill. It’s no big deal, Jack, and I was happy to pamper the pups.”

  Jack shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said as he took a deep breath. “It’s fine, really. Let’s just say that this is the last time we will be coming to Woof. Grooming a dog is not worth this kind of money.”

  Meghan looked over and saw a face in the window. Hilda had returned to the door. Her face was dark, and her eyes were burning with hatred as she stared at Jack from the hallway. It was clear that she had overheard Jack’s rant.

  “Uh oh,” Meghan gulped as she watched Hilda turn and stomp away.

  Jack’s face paled. “Uh oh is right,” he said as he watched Hilda storm away from their self-cleaning cubicle.

  4

  “T here, do it like that, Pamela. If you hold the spoon like that, you’ll be able to create the perfect swirls of icing,” Meghan coaxed her young employee as they finished preparing an order of cupcakes.

  “You do it so nicely,” Pamela responded as Meghan swirled the red icing atop the vanilla cupcake. “How did you learn to do it so perfectly?”

  Meghan laughed. “It’s not perfect, but I practiced my icing abilities for a few months before I felt confident enough to sell my cupcakes. If you keep practicing, I know you will get the hang of it, Pamela. You are a natural in the kitchen, that’s for sure.”

  Pamela grinned. She flipped the spoon to mirror the way Meghan was holding hers, and she began to ice a fresh cupcake. “Good!” Meghan praised her. “Just like that.”

  Suddenly, Trudy burst into the kitchen. “Meghan? Do we have a corporate order that is finished? A
young woman from the Governor’s office is here to pick it up, and to be honest, I have no idea what she is talking about.”

  Meghan smiled reassuringly at Trudy. “It’s done,” she kindly informed her employee. “We had a relatively small order for two dozen muffins. I decided to just knock them out myself early this morning; Siesta woke me up at 4:30 to go outside, and I just stayed awake and was productive the rest of the morning.”

  Trudy sighed in relief. “I am so happy to hear that. My heart was pounding when she called! I thought we had somehow missed the order.”

  Meghan shook her head. “We’re old pros,” she said, feigning haughtiness. “We’ve got this!”

  Trudy nodded. “The young woman on the phone told me she would be by in a half hour to pick up the muffins.”

  Meghan gestured at Pamela. “Will you check the boxes and the wrapping? I want to make sure everything looks nice.”

  Pamela smiled and went to fetch the box of muffins, and a few minutes later, the little silver bells chimed. A statuesque woman dressed in a knee-length gray dress marched into the bakery, still talking into her cell phone as she approached the counter.

  “Yes, I have a few more errands to run, and then I will be back. Have her secretary call mine, and I will make the arrangements. Thanks, ciao.”

  Meghan smiled as the woman nodded at her. “I’m here to pick up the order for the Governor’s office,” the woman informed Meghan.

  “No problem,” she replied. “Two dozen matcha muffins?”

  “That’s what I ordered,” the woman said arrogantly.

  Meghan was annoyed by the woman’s rudeness, but she went to the back and retrieved the muffins, a smile still pasted on her face as she handed them to the governor’s aid. “Here you are.”

  “I hope this is the last muffin run I do for him,” the woman muttered under her breath.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The governor’s weight is going up, and his constant talk of diets and exercise routines is getting old,” the woman told Meghan as she pulled out a compact from her purse and examined her reflection. “I hope his doctor bans him from sweets so I can stop making these trips. It takes me an hour to come all the way here, get the muffins, and get back to the office. It’s so annoying.”

  Meghan wrinkled her nose. “Sorry to be an inconvenience,” she shrugged.

  “No problem,” the woman snarkily answered. “See you later.”

  Meghan shook her head as the rude woman strutted out. “People can be so rude,” she lamented as she watched the woman slide into her sleek gray sports car.

  “People can be the worst!”

  Meghan looked over and saw Mrs. Sheridan hobble into the bakery. “How are you today, Mrs. Sheridan?” she asked politely.

  “Just the usual, Meghan. I need to make a return.”

  Meghan stifled a shudder; Mrs. Sheridan was notorious in Sandy Bay for trying to return anything and everything she bought, including already-consumed food, clothing, pets, vehicles, kitchenware, and more.

  “I bought a box of your muffins last week,” Mrs. Sheridan began as Meghan bit her lip. “I’ve eaten five out of the six muffins, and they were actually decent, but the sixth muffin…”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “What was wrong with the sixth muffin?”

  Mrs. Sheridan frowned. “It was smaller than the others.”

  Meghan wrinkled her nose. “Well, did you bring it back? If it was smaller than the others, I’m happy to exchange it for a larger muffin.”

  Mrs. Sheridan reached into her bulky faux crocodile skin purse and pulled out a crumpled piece of yellow tissue, the same paper that Meghan used to stuff in the boxes of muffins. “Well, I already ate it, of course; it was a decent muffin as well, but just small. I brought this tissue paper back as proof of my purchase.”

  Meghan silently reached into the display case and grabbed the largest muffin available. She wrapped it in yellow tissue paper, placed it in a box, and tied a yellow silk ribbon around it. “There,” she said as she gave the box to Mrs. Sheridan. “Consider this your replacement.”

  Mrs. Sheridan grinned. “Thank you for understanding. People in town can get so fussy when I make my returns, but you are usually fairly reasonable.”

  Meghan nodded stiffly, still annoyed by the rude woman and now, irritated by Mrs. Sheridan. “No worries,” she told Mrs. Sheridan. “Have a nice day.”

  “I’m not done yet,” Mrs. Sheridan told Meghan as she pointed at the display case. “I would like to pack up a few more of the muffins; I want to take a few to my Auntie. She isn’t allowed to have sweets, but she’s so old, I don’t think it matters.”

  Meghan dutifully plucked five muffins from the case and wrapped them up. “I can’t believe someone as old as you can even have an elderly aunt,” she murmured as she folded yellow tissue paper into the box.

  “Excuse me?”

  Meghan’s heart sank; Mrs. Sheridan must have heard her comment. She could see Pamela and Trudy out of the corner of her eye, and they looked just as alarmed as she did.

  “I was just talking to myself,” Meghan claimed as she secured the yellow silk bow around the box.

  “My Auntie will love the muffins,” Mrs. Sheridan cooed as Meghan sighed in relief. “She is a wonderful woman. When I was a girl, my parents were always away on business trips; my father was an international attorney, and my mother was a diplomat. I hardly saw them, and if it weren’t for my Auntie, I would have been raised by nannies.”

  Meghan smiled. “It’s always nice to have the support of your family.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “My Auntie wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but she taught me the discipline I needed. She loved me more than my parents, I think, and I owe her everything.”

  Meghan gently slid the box to Mrs. Sheridan. “I hope she enjoys these muffins, Mrs. Sheridan. She sounds like quite an…. interesting lady.”

  A loud, tinny sound began to ring through the bakery. Confused, Meghan looked to Trudy. “Trudy? What is that?”

  “It sounds like a cell phone,” Trudy answered. “I don’t have one. I only have a pager. Pamela?”

  Pamela shook her head. “My ringtone is the soundtrack from Hamilton. Meghan? Is that yours?”

  “Nope. My ringtone is the sound of birds chirping. It must be….”

  Everyone looked at Mrs. Sheridan, who seemed oblivious to the ringing. “What’s going on?” she squawked. “Sorry, sometimes I am hard of hearing.”

  “Your phone?” Meghan said, maneuvering her hand to resemble a phone and holding it up to her ear. “I think your cell phone is ringing.”

  Mrs. Sheridan reached into her purse and retrieved a large, bulky cell phone. “Hello? Hello?”

  Meghan watched as the color drained from Mrs. Sheridan’s face. She dropped the cell phone and collapsed onto the bakery floor. “Mrs. Sheridan?” Meghan cried, rushing to the old woman’s side. “What is the matter?”

  Mrs. Sheridan was shaking. “My Auntie,” she moaned. “She’s dead!”

  5

  M eghan stared in shock as Mrs. Sheridan wailed. She had never seen Mrs. Sheridan so upset before, and she kneeled down beside her and began gently stroking her back. “I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Sheridan,” she whispered as Mrs. Sheridan cried. “Let us take you home; Pamela can mind the store, and Trudy and I will drive you. I am sure you are in shock and need to rest.”

  Mrs. Sheridan gasped. “I cannot go home,” she declared. “I have to pay my respects immediately! My Auntie deserves to be honored, and I must go to the nursing home now.”

  Meghan furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure that is the best idea,” she said softly. “Why don’t we take you home for a bit? This is so tragic, but I think some rest would be good.”

  “I AM NOT GOING TO REST!” Mrs. Sheridan screeched as she pulled herself up off of the wooden floor. “My Auntie was my biggest role model, and I will go to the nursing home and pay my respects. Now, Trudy? Call a cab for me. I am going to the nursing
home right now.”

  Meghan shook her head. “Don’t bother with a cab,” she told Mrs. Sheridan. “Trudy and I will just drive you there now.”

  Mrs. Sheridan nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The three women escorted Mrs. Sheridan to Trudy’s little blue Ford Taurus and sped off toward the nursing home. When they arrived, Mrs. Sheridan barreled past the security guard outside. “I’m family!” she screamed as she dashed inside.

  Meghan and Trudy checked in with the guard and proceeded inside. “This is a nice nursing home,” Trudy whispered to Meghan as they glanced around the foyer. “When we put my pop in a nursing home, it felt more like a morgue. This place is palatial.”