to preserve the crime scene.”
I took two steps back as a second cop car pulled up along with a small blue Toyota.
Candy Cole stepped out of the Toyota and wormed her way around the cops to stand beside
me.
“Hey, Toni,” Candy stage whispered. She pulled out her small digital camera and snuck
in a couple of photos while the cops huddled together discussing what to do with the
crime scene.
“Hey, Candy,” I whispered back. I’d known Candy since high school, when she’d worked
on the
Oiltop High Gazette
. “Are you here for breakfast or the story?”
“I have a police scanner in my car. I heard the report as I was taking the kids to
school.”
“All right.” Officer Emry strode toward us, hitching up his gun belt. He was thin
enough that it probably would slip right off him if he didn’t constantly hitch. He
sniffed. “Looks like I need to keep you, Ms. Holmes, and everyone in your bakery for
questioning.”
“What? I have work to do.”
“And we’ll let you do it, ma’am, but first we have to tape off the crime scene and
question the witnesses.”
I noted a rotund policeman unrolling crime scene tape from the corner of my building,
around the lamppost, across the front of the trough, then back to the other side of
my building, completely blocking off the bakery. “What’s he doing?” I asked, pointing
at the giant “crime scene.”
“As I said, ma’am, we need to process the area before it gets contaminated.”
“But no one can get into my bakery.”
“Looks like there are plenty of people inside now,” Barney’s voice broke. “Let’s go
inside, ladies. There’s nothing to see here.” He waved his thin arms and pushed us
back into the bakery.
Inside, it was warm and smelled of coffee and sweets. The radio was on and, over the
speakers, someone strummed a guitar and sang a lovely ballad about broken hearts.
Meanwhile, Officer Emry closed the front door and threw the lock.
“Hey, you can’t lock us all in here,” John complained. “I’ve got to get to work, and
I promised Sarah I’d bring her pastries.”
“We have to get to the hospital,” the nurses said in unison.
“I’m working in official press capacity.” Candy flashed her newspaper ID. “You need
to help these people out, Officer Emry, or there might be a nice sidebar on police
brutality in tonight’s paper.”
I did love Candy. She’d worked with Grandma Ruth for years and now was the lead reporter.
She knew how to manipulate things in a small town.
“All right, all right, calm down.” Officer Emry took a notebook from his coat pocket.
“I promise not to take too long. First off, I need a place to question each of you
individually.” He looked at me expectantly.
The man had just touched a dead person and had yet to wash his hands. There was no
way I was letting him into my kitchen. “You can take the small table in the corner.”
I motioned toward the corner farthest from the windows.
“Good, I’ll start with the first customer you had this morning.”
“That’s me.” John’s mouth went flat and turned down at the corners. The men moved
toward the table.
“Everyone, pour yourself some coffee and pick out a free roll.” I went behind the
counter and grabbed plates and tissue squares. After I got everyone settled with breakfast,
I studied the full display, dismayed that it might remain full.
A glance out the window showed someone had placed a tarp over the trough and the dead
guy; at least there were no longer arms and legs showing. The cops stood around waiting
for the coroner.
Another car pulled up nearby and Rocky Rhode stepped out with his giant digital camera.
He snapped a few pictures of the cops, the crime scene, and my storefront. Great,
another less-than-flattering photo of my business.
I stepped back from the window to ensure I wouldn’t show up in the shot.
“Did you get a look at the guy’s face?” Candy asked
I took two steps back as a second cop car pulled up along with a small blue Toyota.
Candy Cole stepped out of the Toyota and wormed her way around the cops to stand beside
me.
“Hey, Toni,” Candy stage whispered. She pulled out her small digital camera and snuck
in a couple of photos while the cops huddled together discussing what to do with the
crime scene.
“Hey, Candy,” I whispered back. I’d known Candy since high school, when she’d worked
on the
Oiltop High Gazette
. “Are you here for breakfast or the story?”
“I have a police scanner in my car. I heard the report as I was taking the kids to
school.”
“All right.” Officer Emry strode toward us, hitching up his gun belt. He was thin
enough that it probably would slip right off him if he didn’t constantly hitch. He
sniffed. “Looks like I need to keep you, Ms. Holmes, and everyone in your bakery for
questioning.”
“What? I have work to do.”
“And we’ll let you do it, ma’am, but first we have to tape off the crime scene and
question the witnesses.”
I noted a rotund policeman unrolling crime scene tape from the corner of my building,
around the lamppost, across the front of the trough, then back to the other side of
my building, completely blocking off the bakery. “What’s he doing?” I asked, pointing
at the giant “crime scene.”
“As I said, ma’am, we need to process the area before it gets contaminated.”
“But no one can get into my bakery.”
“Looks like there are plenty of people inside now,” Barney’s voice broke. “Let’s go
inside, ladies. There’s nothing to see here.” He waved his thin arms and pushed us
back into the bakery.
Inside, it was warm and smelled of coffee and sweets. The radio was on and, over the
speakers, someone strummed a guitar and sang a lovely ballad about broken hearts.
Meanwhile, Officer Emry closed the front door and threw the lock.
“Hey, you can’t lock us all in here,” John complained. “I’ve got to get to work, and
I promised Sarah I’d bring her pastries.”
“We have to get to the hospital,” the nurses said in unison.
“I’m working in official press capacity.” Candy flashed her newspaper ID. “You need
to help these people out, Officer Emry, or there might be a nice sidebar on police
brutality in tonight’s paper.”
I did love Candy. She’d worked with Grandma Ruth for years and now was the lead reporter.
She knew how to manipulate things in a small town.
“All right, all right, calm down.” Officer Emry took a notebook from his coat pocket.
“I promise not to take too long. First off, I need a place to question each of you
individually.” He looked at me expectantly.
The man had just touched a dead person and had yet to wash his hands. There was no
way I was letting him into my kitchen. “You can take the small table in the corner.”
I motioned toward the corner farthest from the windows.
“Good, I’ll start with the first customer you had this morning.”
“That’s me.” John’s mouth went flat and turned down at the corners. The men moved
toward the table.
“Everyone, pour yourself some coffee and pick out a free roll.” I went behind the
counter and grabbed plates and tissue squares. After I got everyone settled with breakfast,
I studied the full display, dismayed that it might remain full.
A glance out the window showed someone had placed a tarp over the trough and the dead
guy; at least there were no longer arms and legs showing. The cops stood around waiting
for the coroner.
Another car pulled up nearby and Rocky Rhode stepped out with his giant digital camera.
He snapped a few pictures of the cops, the crime scene, and my storefront. Great,
another less-than-flattering photo of my business.
I stepped back from the window to ensure I wouldn’t show up in the shot.
“Did you get a look at the guy’s face?” Candy asked
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