A Dead Man and Doggie Delights Read online

  That soaring happiness lasted right up to the moment I parked outside our store and noticed the boarded up doors and windows and the black scorch marks on the brick façade.

  I sat there, not wanting to go inside and find out why our formerly-pristine building looked like it had been hit by a bomb. I would’ve probably sat there forever, but Fancy started crying her head off at me to get out of the car.

  You’d think a hundred-and-forty-pound dog would have a deep, booming bark but nine times out of ten Fancy resorts to a high-pitched cry that’s about as painful on the ears as fingernails on a chalkboard.

  It’s highly effective, I’ll give her that. No one wants to sit in a car with a dog making a noise that obnoxious in their ear. So as much as I wanted to bury my head in my hands and ask, “What now?” I scrambled out of the van and let Fancy out.

  Sitting in the car wasn’t going to make things better anyway. I needed to find out what Jamie had kept from me and hope it wasn’t so bad we’d have to delay our opening. All of my plans hinged on being open that first weekend in June.

  Something that did not look very likely at the moment.

  Chapter Three

  I walked Fancy to the grass at the far end of the parking lot and turned back to look at the store. The little cartoon Newfie heads on either end of the sign made me smile—they’d been my idea, in honor of Fancy. In between, in the curly script the sign guy hadn’t wanted to use, it proclaimed this as the home of the Baker Valley Barkery and Café.

  (I’ll admit, it was a little hard to read, but I thought it had flare. Better than using Helvetica like he’d suggested. How boring would that have been?)

  The café was on the left, the barkery on the right, each with their own door and large picture window that would give guests a great view of the mountains—once the cheap plywood that was currently covering them was removed, that is. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought a hurricane was coming, the way the windows were boarded over. But this was Colorado, so clearly something else had happened since my last visit.

  Inside there should be tables set up on both sides with a pass-through that would allow someone on the café side to access the barkery side and vice versa. There was a lot less seating on the barkery side than the café side because we wanted to leave enough room for dogs as well as humans to sit comfortably.

  We’d also added little cubbies surrounded by half-walls on the barkery side where people could leave their dogs safely for a few minutes while they ran to the restroom. (I’ve been that person traveling cross-country with their dog who just needs to pee real quick but doesn’t want to leave their dog in a hot car while they do, so I can appreciate the need to have a safe space like that.)

  My space—the service counter of the barkery—was at the far back on the right-hand side. We had one of those glass display cases like any good bakery would, but all of the treats were going to be for dogs instead of humans. Fancy’s favorite were the Doggie Delights—which were basically balls of peanut butter with other yummy stuff added in—but she was only allowed one per day. Those calories add up fast, and a big girl like her needs to watch the stress she puts on her joints.

  Fancy’s personal cubby—which was big enough for an extra-large dog bed and her food and water bowls—was in the far corner behind the barkery counter.

  Opposite that was our dogphenalia section that included Baker Valley leashes and collars, mugs with a circular version of our logo, those dog window stickers everyone loves, and whatever other kitschy items I thought might sell to a dog-loving tourist crowd.

  There were also some pre-packaged treat bags I’d had manufactured so people could take them home as gifts for their furry friends who hadn’t made the trip. (If you ever want to know how private label packaging works, just ask. I know more about it now than I ever wanted to.) And just in case we didn’t attract enough visitors to the store, I was also planning on offering everything via our website, too.

  I wanted to make it as easy for people to give me their money as I could.

  The opposite side of the store was Jamie’s side. It was a regular café that was going to serve things like coffee and cinnamon rolls. (Jamie makes the best cinnamon rolls in the world. I kid you not. They are better than any cinnamon roll I have ever tasted and I have made it my life’s mission to try cinnamon rolls everywhere I go.) The café side included a full kitchen and a small office that were kept completely separate from the barkery side.

  Let me tell you, negotiating everything with the local zoning inspector had been a challenge. He was full of what-if scenarios. What if two dogs were seated too close to each other and got in a fight? What if someone tripped over a dog trying to get to their table? What if dog hair made its way into the human food? What if, what if, what if.

  We’d met every single objection and then some, and I was proud of what we’d built, but now, looking at the scorch marks on the bricks around the windows and doors, I was a little scared to step through that door.

  No point in delaying, though. Best to see what had happened and figure out how to deal with it. I led Fancy across the lot, forcing myself to take deep, calming breaths. Jamie was alive and well. We still had two weeks. It was going to be okay.

  Jamie met me at the door, wiping the sweat from her face with a hand still covered in a thick leather workman’s glove. She’d braided her long brown hair back, but little tendrils had escaped and were fuzzed around her face.

  As she pulled the gloves off her slender fingers and tucked them into the back pocket of her jeans, I asked, “Do I want to know what happened here?”

  “It’s fine. Nothing to worry about. I’ve got it under control.”

  I’ve never seen Jamie ruffled. You could put her in the middle of a total apocalypse and she’d look around with a shrug and say, “Well, best get to it. Things aren’t going to fix themselves.” It’s what makes her such a great business partner. Always dependable, competent as all get out, and never willing to admit defeat.

  But this time I had to wonder if she’d lost her connection to reality. There were black soot marks on the ceiling on the café side and it was clear that all of the glass in the windows and doors had been violently removed by a significant amount of force. A sooty smell hung in the air and Fancy sneezed twice, shaking her head.

  I glanced towards the kitchen which was a soot-stained mess from the little bit I could see. “It’s fine?”

  “A minor setback, that’s all.” Jamie bent down to say hi to Fancy while I pressed my lips together and counted to ten, reminding myself that if Jamie said she had it handled, she probably did.

  We’d known each other since we were babies and I’d come to the valley to visit my grandparents, but we hadn’t become life-long friends until freshman year of college at CU when we found ourselves on a volunteer project to repaint a local elementary school. The thing was a disaster. There was paint, thankfully, but that was about it. No paintbrushes. No drop cloths. No one who knew a thing about anything.

  Jamie and I both stepped up at the same moment to take things in hand. Within an hour we had all the supplies we needed and four teams hard at work. We’d been best friends ever since. And after years of complaining to one another about how miserable we were working for people who didn’t see what we could and commiserating over how much we missed the valley, we’d decided enough was enough, pooled our savings, and decided to open the barkery and cafe.

  Things had been going well.

  “So?” I asked.

  Jamie shrugged one shoulder. “We didn’t get the gas on the stove in the café hooked up the way it should’ve been and there was a bit of an explosion.”

  “A bit of an explosion? Was anyone hurt?”

  “No. It was just Katie and me working at the time.” She nodded towards a young woman with bright red hair pulled back in a ponytail and the most flawless porcelain skin I’d ever seen in my life who was hard at work scrubbing down the floor. “Luckily the gas buildup wasn’t near as ba
d as it could’ve been because I’d propped open the front door to let in some fresh air, so the explosion took out all the glass and knocked me for a loop, but that was it.”

  “Jamie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I had it under control and there was nothing you could do about it from wherever you were that day. Would you have really left Fancy and your U-Haul truck in Lexington, Kentucky so you could fly back here and check on me? No. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to. I knew you’d be here in a few days and I could tell you then.”

  I eyed her up and down. “No broken bones?”

  “No.”

  The way she answered made me narrow my eyes and study her more closely. “Concussion?”

  “Just a minor one. I’ll have a few extra headaches for a while, that’s it.”

  I glanced towards the girl scrubbing the floor who was now trying to keep Fancy at bay. Clearly not a dog person the way she was grimacing and shoving at Fancy. “And Katie?”

  “She was outside when it happened, so no injuries there, thankfully. Kitchen took the brunt of it.”

  “Fancy, leave the girl alone,” I called as I headed for the kitchen. Fancy came to join me, Jamie trailing along behind us.

  I stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. The walls and the ceiling were almost completely black and what looked like part of the stove was still embedded in the wall to my left. The burnt smell was almost overpowering and Fancy backed away pawing at her nose.

  “Here, Fancy.” I opened the door next to the kitchen and let her out into the dog run we’d had built out back. She went eagerly, but then turned back to stare at me plaintively when I didn’t follow her outside.

  I turned back to Jamie. “It could’ve killed you.”

  “But it didn’t.” She flashed me one of her signature smiles. “I’m lucky. You know that.”

  I shook my head. She was lucky—as this incident proved yet again—but still. That didn’t mean she had to be cavalier about it. What if she’d been in the kitchen when this happened? What if she hadn’t propped the door open?

  I shivered, trying not to think about it. “Are you going to sue the idiot who messed the gas line up?”

  “No. And neither are you. It was just a freak accident. No one needs to be sued over it. Everything’s going to be fixed in time for our launch and that’s all that matters.”

  I glanced back at the kitchen. “We’re launching in two weeks and that’s going to be fixed in time?”

  “Luke promised me he’ll take care of it and I trust he will.”

  “Luke, huh?” I stepped closer, holding her gaze. “Is this the same Luke who broke your heart at least once a year from third grade through high school and then at least twice in college? Mr. Honeyed Words and Hollow Promises?”

  She crossed her arms and glared me down. “He’s the best general contractor in the area. He’ll get it done. Trust me.”

  I wanted to argue—the fact that Luke was involved did not bode well—but I bit my tongue and let it go. Jamie was blind where Luke was concerned and the last thing I needed was a big blow up fight with my best friend and business partner two weeks before our launch.

  I just hoped she was right about him getting everything done in time. There was a big dog show that was going to be held at the local convention center in two weeks, and if we weren’t open in time for that I wasn’t sure how the barkery was going to get the word of mouth buzz it needed to succeed. The café side would probably survive a late opening, but the barkery? I didn’t think it would.

  While Jamie and I had been talking, Fancy had wandered back over to Katie, muddy paw prints showing her wandering trail from the back door to Katie’s side.

  “Sorry about Fancy,” I called to her. “I’ll clean that up in a minute. By the way, I’m Maggie.” I leaned across the counter and held out my hand.

  She stood, clearly not wanting to, and took my hand. “Katie.”

  Her handshake was about as warm as her non-existent smile and she barely made eye contact before looking away. I studied her as she made her way behind the counter and into the kitchen area, face completely blank of emotion. It’s always fascinated me when I meet a really attractive person who’s like that. I always wonder how someone can get such positive attention from the world—because with skin like that and red hair you know men had to bow and scrape around her all the time—and yet come out so…meh.

  My own looks—tall, blonde, and curvy enough to get some attention—had certainly made my life easier. Maybe I could see being shut down with men, because it could be too much sometimes, but all the time? It was just weird.

  Jamie, knowing this particular fascination of mine, distracted me by handing me a Coke from the little mini fridge under the counter. “Katie is Georgia’s daughter. You remember, Georgia, right?”

  “The one who liked to eat mud?” I whispered.

  “That’s the one.”

  I gave Jamie my “what were you thinking?” look but she just shrugged. She loves to collect strays and help “fix” them. I figure that’s what explains her lifelong fascination with Luke.

  “Katie will be with us through next summer and then it’s off to college. Right, Katie?” she asked as Katie returned, a mop in hand.

  Katie faced off against Fancy, the mop gripped in her hands like a bat. “That’s my mother’s plan.”

  I stepped between them and waved a treat under Fancy’s nose, luring her to her cubbie behind the barkery counter so I could lock her out of Katie’s way before something bad happened. Fancy hesitated for a second—she didn’t want to leave the action—but treats always win with her, even when they’re the size of a peanut.

  You’d think a dog her size would need big treats, but nope, not at all. She’ll follow you anywhere for a crumb of a crumb of a crumb.

  I settled Fancy down and returned to the café counter, careful to keep out of Katie’s way. “And what do you want, Katie?” I asked, genuinely curious and determined to break through that cold exterior. I figured she had to have some hidden passion, right? Everyone does, even if it’s stamp collecting.

  “I don’t know.” The way she said it made it pretty clear she was done talking to me. And the abuse she was inflicting on that mop and floor were enough for me to just leave her to it. She didn’t want to talk, fine with me.

  I turned back to Jamie. “You would not believe what my grandpa did this morning…”

  I walked her through the whole crazy incident while Katie worked around us, violently cleaning the floor until it shone. Jamie laughed so hard when I told her about my grandpa pulling his shotgun, I thought she was going to hurt herself.

  I grinned. “It was pretty funny, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh yeah. And your grandpa’s right, you know. There isn’t much that will get through to a man like Jack Dunner, but I bet that shotgun woke him up and made him pay attention.”

  “It certainly woke me up, I’ll tell you that.”

  “Can I go?” Katie interrupted us.

  Jamie blinked at her, clearly surprised, but then nodded. “Sure. See you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” She dumped the mop in the kitchen and left without so much as a smile or wave.

  “That is one odd girl,” I muttered as she revved the engine on an old blue pickup truck and backed out of her parking spot.

  “Yeah, well, her mom keeps her on a pretty tight leash. Doesn’t want Katie to end up like her, you know.”

  “How old was she when she had her first kid?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “And how old is Katie?”

  “Seventeen.”

  I shrugged. “She’s already done better than her mom then, yeah?”

  “Yeah, tell that to Georgia. She wants Katie to avoid all boys until she’s at college and maybe even after that.”

  I winced. “That’s not going to work out well…”

  “No, it’s not. So when Katie asks to leave a little early or come in a little late every once in a while, I le
t her. Kid’s gotta be a kid, you know.”

  “Hm. Well, when that backfires, you can deal with Georgia. Woman scares me. Always has.” I went to let Fancy out of her cubbie, but she was sound asleep, sprawled on her back, her right paw sticking straight up in the air. Goofy girl.

  “It’s just a half hour here or there. No big deal.” Jamie looked at Fancy and shook her head, smiling.

  “A person can do a lot in half an hour, you know.” We walked back to the café side and I grabbed a wash rag to start wiping down the tables that all had a fine layer of soot on them. “By the way, does Katie get friendlier the more you know her?”

  Jamie smacked me in the arm. “Be nice, Maggie. It’s hard to be a teenager.”

  I guessed, but I sure hoped she’d warm up soon, because she was not my idea of the ideal café employee. I’d have to stash her in the back and help all the customers myself if she didn’t warm up, which sort of defeated the whole purpose of having her around.

  Ah well. I glanced at the burned out kitchen. One disgruntled unfriendly teenager was the least of my worries.

  Chapter Four

  The day before the store opening dawned blue and beautiful, like most days in early spring in the Colorado mountains. Fortunately for me, the last two weeks had passed without any exploding stoves or reports of my grandpa pointing a shotgun at someone new. I’d spent most of the time with Fancy, Jamie, and Katie Cross—who’d grown on me some, but not much—getting the store ready for our opening.

  Luke had come through for us, just like Jamie said he would. He was still an over-the-top flirtatious sleazeball who was going to break my best friend’s heart—again—but at least by the day before the opening we had a fully-functional store that didn’t show a single sign of fire damage.

  I had plans that day to go into the store and make sure everything was perfect for our launch, but not until after noon. Poor Fancy had put up with a lot of long hours sleeping in her nook at the store and I figured she’d earned a little hike in the woods before opening day.