скачать книгу бесплатно
“I’m not helpless and I’m quite capable of taking care of it by myself,” she told Tyler. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”
“You don’t need to get huff—” Tyler stopped, apparently rethinking what he’d intended to say. “That is, I know you’re capable. But you aren’t an architect. I expect to be in Glimmer Creek until my mom and brother leave. Why don’t I take a look at the analysis from the building office when it comes, along with the blueprints for your building? I’d be happy to make recommendations.”
She knew quite well he’d started to say she was getting huffy and rolled her eyes. In her opinion, huffy was gender-specific. If she’d called him that, he would have felt his masculinity was being threatened. That was another point in Theo’s favor—he didn’t get in a tizzy about his manhood, though being a neutered cat, he might not feel he had that much to defend.
Sarah gave herself a shake. Her thoughts tended to drift when she was tired, and she still had to clear out the register and take care of a dozen other things before she could go home.
“That was sarcastic, not huffy,” she returned, and Tyler looked faintly embarrassed. “But I’m not making any decisions until I’m more rested and have done more evaluation of my own.”
“I understand. Maybe you can assist me in return.”
Sarah was instantly wary. “How?”
“I’ve contacted over a dozen general practitioners in Stockton to get an appointment for Nathan, but the earliest slot for a new patient isn’t for two or three weeks. Do you have any contacts who could help? Maybe someone in your family?”
“Go to the Glimmer Creek clinic. No appointment needed.”
“I noticed there was a clinic in town, but I’d prefer someone in private practice.”
Sarah gave him an exasperated look. “Give me a break. The GC clinic is brand-new and state-of-the-art. All of our medical professionals work out of it, but I’d recommend Dr. Romano for your brother. He was a reservist who served in the air force during the first Gulf War. Just call and ask when he’s there.”
Tyler nodded. “Okay. Do you mind if I wander around and take measurements, just in case you decide to accept my opinion on your renovations?” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket along with a small notebook.
“You brought a tape measure?”
“It’s a habit. If you don’t let me do some innocent checking, my mother’s feelings may be hurt. She really hopes I can come up with a solution for you.”
Invoking Rosemary’s feelings was dirty pool. “Fine. Do some measuring. Just stay out of everyone’s way. Would you like a cup of coffee before I empty the coffee makers?”
“Sure. Decaf if you have it, regular otherwise.”
Sarah poured him a large to-go cup of decaf and cleaned the coffee makers, then put the now day-old baked items into plastic bags.
“Don’t you have someone who can do that?” Tyler asked.
“Somebody comes later to clean, but we take care of the coffee machines immediately and bag the day-old items.”
“What about those?” He gestured to the loaves of bread she’d kept separate.
“They’ll be made into croutons. Croutons are popular in the shop, and we also use them for our restaurant and catering needs.”
Leaving Tyler to roam the building by himself, Sarah took the contents of the till back to the office and got it ready for the bank’s night drop box. The shift supervisor cosigned the slip, and Sarah sealed the deposit in a large envelope.
“Hey, guys, I’ll be right back,” she told the kitchen crew. They waved, used to her going to the bank each evening.
The swing shift was the smallest, except when they were catering a dinner. Luckily in Glimmer Creek, there were plenty of people willing to work on an as-needed basis.
Tyler was sitting at a table by the front window, pouring over figures in his notebook, presumably the measurements. She just couldn’t see what he hoped to do with them without knowing the proposed regulations.
“Um, are you done yet?” Sarah asked, wanting to push him out the door.
“I have a bit more to do. Your candy chef said she takes a break at eight, so I’m waiting till then to finish my measurements in the smaller kitchen.”
* * *
TYLER FOUGHT BACK a smile at the harried look on Sarah’s face. She hadn’t agreed to accept his advice, but the more she resisted, the more he wanted her to take it. The situation was unusual for him, to say the least. He was no longer accustomed to pursuing clients and certainly not to being turned down for a free consultation.
“Fine. I’m going to the bank with the night deposit.”
Sarah unlocked the door and went outside. Tyler found himself watching as she walked up the street, her hips swaying gently. The late sun glinted like platinum fire on her hair, and he shifted uneasily, more physically aware of her than he wanted to be.
As she turned to cross, a motorcycle came roaring up the street and veered toward her. Tyler jumped to his feet as the rider reached for the thick envelope she carried. The biker missed, but pushed Sarah hard enough that she went down.
Tyler ran outside as he dialed 911 on his cell. The emergency operator answered on the first ring.
“A motorcyclist just tried to rob Sarah Fullerton, half a block southeast from her business,” he said concisely. “Across from the bank. They hit her and drove off.”
“Yes, sir. Please stay on the phone while I dispatch officers to the scene.”
Sarah was sitting up when he got there, dazed, but still clutching the envelope.
“I’ve called the police,” Tyler explained, trying to determine if she was badly hurt. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, and I don’t need the police, either. It was just a motorcyclist who doesn’t know how to steer.”
“Somebody tried to rob you, Sarah,” he announced bluntly, anger burning through him. “I was watching, and there’s no question the biker was reaching for the envelope. He also struck you and left. That’s hit-and-run.”
A hum of agreement came from the onlookers who’d gathered.
Sarah tried to get up, and he insisted she stay put. “You need to be checked first.” Tyler heard a voice from his phone and put it to his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I’ve dispatched paramedics, sir,” the dispatcher said. “May I have your name, phone number and address?”
Tyler was providing them as a police car and paramedic unit came screaming to a halt nearby.
Two uniformed officers and a paramedic team came over, and it was clear from the way they greeted Sarah that she was either family or a good friend. One officer started directing traffic while the second took a report, speaking to the different witnesses.
A third vehicle arrived, and a tall, solemn-looking man got out, striding over to Sarah. She was now sitting at the end of the paramedic vehicle while they treated an abrasion on her elbow. Though he wore plain clothes, he had a badge attached to his belt.
“Hey, coz, what happened?” he asked.
“A motorcyclist brushed against me and I got knocked over. I wouldn’t have even fallen if I hadn’t been off balance. Everyone is making too big of a deal about this, Zach.” Yet her voice had risen, suggesting she was more agitated than she wanted to let on.
“Somebody tried to snatch the bank deposit she was carrying,” Tyler interjected. “I saw it clearly.”
Sarah remained pale as he described the rider, which wouldn’t help with identification. Despite the warm day, the biker had been wearing a bulky jacket, gloves and helmet. Tyler couldn’t even confirm the person’s sex. On top of that, nobody had spotted any distinguishing insignia on the rider’s clothes or motorcycle.
“We have a bulletin out to watch for bikes of that description, but it’s probably long gone now,” Zach said.
The paramedics advised Sarah to see a doctor but didn’t think she needed to be transported to the local medical clinic.
“Hey, Millie,” she called, waving to a woman hovering at the edge of the crowd. Tyler recognized her as one of the cooks he’d seen working in the kitchen. “I’m all right and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Though Millie nodded and walked back toward Sarah’s Sweet Treats, it was clear that she’d rather stay. Frankly, Tyler thought they had too many onlookers. The officers seemed to agree because they were urging the crowd to disperse.
Sarah was keeping a death grip on the envelope and looked at Tyler blankly when he offered to put it in the bank’s night drop box, just a few feet from the paramedic’s vehicle.
“Oh. Yeah.” She glanced down, then held it out to him.
“Just a moment,” ordered Zach. “Sarah, how much cash is in there?”
“Twelve hundred seventy-two dollars and fifty-three cents. Also some local checks.”
“Who knew you were bringing the deposit down here?”
“Practically everyone knows I take care of it around the same time each evening.”
Zach looked exasperated. “Routines make you an easy target, Sarah. Until we get this sorted out, call the station and I’ll send an officer to escort you or come myself.”
“I really don’t think the rider was trying to steal it,” she protested.
“That’s your Pollyanna nature speaking. Witnesses say otherwise, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Tyler took the envelope and dropped it in the deposit slot. If he’d thought a small town like Glimmer Creek couldn’t provide any excitement, he’d obviously been wrong. But this was one form of excitement he could do without.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
SARAH WAS MORE SHAKEN than she wanted to let on in front of her cousin and Tyler Prentiss. She didn’t want to believe someone had been trying to rob her, but the scared part of her—the one that had been getting silent calls at night and a complaint called into the city—wasn’t so sure.
One minute she’d been enjoying the evening sunshine, and the next she was on the ground. Her arm hurt, and she suspected the rest of her body would protest once the shock had worn off.
Her own impressions of the motorcyclist were vague at best. She really hadn’t been paying attention.
Glimmer Creek was wary of motorcyclists. A few years ago, they’d had two biker gangs meet up in town and get into a fight, but Sarah had friends in Los Angeles who rode motorcycles and they were nice people. They just liked the freedom they felt on a bike. While some were more unconventional, that didn’t make them criminals.
“Shall I contact Kurt for you?” Zach asked, distracting her.
She shook her head. “I’ll talk to Dad myself. It would scare the heck out of him if you call, and I don’t need more drama tonight.”
“Okay. Who is this?” he queried, looking at Tyler.
“Tyler Prentiss. He’s staying at Poppy Gold, and his mother works for me. Tyler, this is Zach Williams, the Glimmer Creek police chief.”
Zach’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly as he shook hands with Tyler. He must have remembered Great-Uncle Milt saying that Tyler had caused a scene at the bakery.
“Hello, Mr. Prentiss,” Zach said coolly. “I don’t think Sarah mentioned that we’re related.” It was a not-so-subtle warning.
Tyler’s return smile was equally measured. “I figured it out when you called her coz.”
“Of course. Sarah, let me take you home,” Zach said after a final look at Tyler.
“Nonsense. My car is behind the shop, and I’m okay to drive.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Call if you need anything.”
Sarah was grateful when the officials and most of the onlookers had dispersed. She glanced at Tyler. “You’d better get going, too. I’m sure Rosemary wonders what’s kept you.”
“Mom knew I was coming here to discuss your building. She’ll be more concerned if I return too soon. Besides, I haven’t finished measuring.”
“Maybe another time,” Sarah said firmly. She wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anything but the necessities, and Tyler was far from a necessity. While he might be a great architect, she couldn’t afford him.
He shrugged. “I’ll still walk you back.”
It was just a short way and the same direction as Poppy Gold, so she didn’t object. But at the entrance of the shop she stuck up her chin. “Good night. Thanks for coming to help.”
She quickly slipped inside and locked the door behind her.
“Sarah?” Millie called from the kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me.” Sarah went in and tried not to appear as frazzled as she felt. “Can you handle everything? I want to go home for a hot bath.”
“No problem,” Millie assured her confidently. “You don’t have to stay every night. We know what to do.”
“I realize that. There’s just a lot of work.”
“And you have us to do it.”
Sarah didn’t need more convincing. She locked up the credit card receipts, grabbed her purse and went out the back door. Each business on the block had a rear parking area, a perfect spot for the electric food-delivery vehicles. All she’d needed to do was install a special station for overnight charging—with few exceptions, Poppy Gold didn’t allow modern gas-powered vehicles on-site.
Automatically, she plugged the catering vehicles into the charger, then got in her car and drove home.
Once inside with Theo on her lap, she started to call her father’s cell, only to remember he’d said he’d lost it. So she dialed his home number. It was unusual to get voice mail—he was the early-to-bed type—but easier, too.
“Hey, Dad,” she said brightly. “In case someone else calls and tells you about it, I wanted to let you know there was a minor incident on Mariposa Avenue this evening. A motorcyclist drove too close and I fell, but I’m perfectly all right. I’m home now and going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
Sarah disconnected and dialed into her own voice mail. There were several silent messages. She deleted them one after another, her stomach churning.
Earlier in the day, she’d signed up for the national Do Not Call list. It would take a while for her number to be processed...but if the calls weren’t from a telemarketer, being on the list wouldn’t do any good.
Theo was still hungry for attention, so she cuddled him for another few minutes before opening a can of his favorite food and going upstairs for a bath. The water lapped around her, soothing her tired muscles, and she closed her eyes.
Abruptly the phone rang. She’d put the handset within arm’s reach—half expecting her dad to call—but the caller ID showed it was her cousin Tessa.
Sarah let out a sigh. Tessa had gotten married two years ago, so she generally didn’t phone this time of the evening unless it was related to Poppy Gold Inns and a catering need. Marriage changed people, but even having a baby hadn’t dulled Tessa’s determination to make the facility an even bigger success than her parents had already made it.
“Hey, Tessa,” she answered.
“Hi. Um, I just checked my email. We have a last-minute request to have a catered dinner on Saturday. It’s for that big family reunion—the one you’re doing a reception for tomorrow. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any chance you can accommodate them?”
