“What is that woman doing?” a male voice said behind her.

  “I don’t know,” a woman replied.

  “Is there something going on in the house?” another voice chimed in.

  Amelia suddenly realized she was hearing some very distinct voices. Slowly, she turned her head to the right to peek over her shoulder and realized she was in front of a French door that looked out to the garden where several guests were milling around.

  “Talk about hiding in plain sight,” Amelia muttered. She twisted the handle, felt a snap, and was about to step outside but froze.

  “Go get Sam.” A man in a gray suit and red tie pointed at Amelia. “I think he should know about this,” he told his date. She nodded and hurried in the direction of the barn. Quickly, Amelia pulled the curtain aside and stepped back into the middle of the room. She put her hand to her stomach as she tried to think fast. Her eyes skimmed over the books and knickknacks on the bookshelves. It really was a pretty room.

  “Excuse me, miss!” one of the servers called to Amelia. “You can’t be in there.”

  “I’m sorry. I was looking for the bathroom,” she lied, smiling.

  “The restrooms for guests are in the barn,” the servant replied with a suspicious look on her face. She was very thin and tall with her blond hair pulled back from her face in a bun. She stared down her thin nose at Amelia, blatantly not believing her.

  “I’m sorry. It was rather an emergency. You know how that can be,” Amelia said. “In fact, I think it was something in those little salmon squares you guys were serving. I don’t think I better stay.” She clutched her stomach and headed toward the short hallway that led to the front door and the staircase upstairs. Her feet were screaming inside her shoes. Each step made her ankles wobble and her knees bend deeper as she tried to make a smooth getaway.

  “Wait!” the server called, but Amelia hobbled quickly to the front door, grabbed hold of the crystal knob, and gave it a good yank, startling several guests on the front porch. They all stared as Amelia stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her.

  As casually as she could, she tottered across the porch, limped down the steps, until finally giving in to the fact she’d done anything but blend seamlessly into her surroundings. She pulled off one heel and then the other, and sprinted down the sloping front yard, following the gravel drive that led to the street. On tenterhooks, she tiptoed as fast as she could to her car, climbed in, and sped away in a cloud of dust and gravel. The sound of people shouting and laughing at her still echoed in her ears.

  “Amelia, that was a pathetic display,” she muttered as she looked in the rearview mirror, half-expecting a dozen cars to be following her in pursuit. There were none. She let out a deep breath, and after driving for about half an hour away from the scene of the trespassing, she decided to pull into a Cookie’s Hot Dogs and get something to eat.

  While sitting barefoot in the parking lot on a picnic bench in her fanciest dress, Amelia ate a chili dog with fries and a Coke. The words that Rosa and Ronny had said stuck with her like a sliver in her thumb. What did they mean that Samuel would get away with what he’d done?

  She didn’t know. But someone was obviously helping themselves to some of the company checks after Sondra’s death. That was probably Samuel. If they’d started the business together, why wouldn’t they have access to the checkbook, right? But it was obvious Rosa and Ronny weren’t interested in the checkbook. It was right there on the desk, and they didn’t pay any attention to it. If that’s what they were looking for, then they were completely blind. No, that wasn’t it. They were looking for something else, and Amelia was sure whatever it was she could find it if she had some time alone in the place.

  “But how are you going to get that?” she asked in between bites. She thought of all the pretty things on the bookshelves in the study. That would be the kind of place Dan would enjoy. A room for himself to review his files or just think, and it could be filled with all of his favorite things. The idea made her smile as she finished her meal, then went back to the counter and ordered enough for the kids.

  Before she pulled out of the Cookie’s Hot Dogs parking lot, Amelia decided to go back to The Old Barn one more time. But she’d go when no one was around. She certainly couldn’t go back now. She had to make a plan and thought having a brownie covered in ice cream with chocolate drizzle and peanuts would be just the thing to boost her snooping senses and inspire her. Instead, it made her too full, and she went home to get a shower, rub her feet, and come up with a plan later.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You aren’t going to believe who’s here,” Lila said to Amelia as soon as she arrived at The Pink Cupcake for work the following morning.

  “Who?”

  “Lionel Hascolm,” Lila whispered.

  “Where is he?” Amelia asked with wide eyes, completely forgetting about The Old Barn and her experience from the night before.

  “He’s at the picnic table. The one in the straw hat,” Lila said and jerked her chin in the direction of the picnic area. There, with his back to them, was a tall, slender fellow in a straw hat like the ones political constituents wear at conventions.

  “Are you sure that’s him and not a member of the Republican caucus?” Amelia asked. Just then, there was a loud clatter from inside The Pink Cupcake.

  “I’m sure. Bea has been dropping pans and pots and bumping into things since she told me he was coming to speak to us this morning.” Lila shook her head. “She’s a nervous wreck in there. I don’t understand how a girl as weird as she is is suddenly worried about the opinion of that guy.”

  “Well, we ought to get this over with for her sake,” Amelia said. “Give me one minute to set my stuff down, and we’ll see what’s all the hubbub.”

  Amelia went inside the truck and saw Beatrice fussing with two ingredients in her hand that looked almost identical. She was staring at them as if they might explode at any second.

  “Beatrice, are you okay?” Amelia asked.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m all thumbs this morning,” she squawked.

  “Did you know that Lionel was coming today?”

  “Yes. He texted me last night. I told him that was acceptable. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “No. I’m glad you did. Did you speak to him this morning?” Amelia continued her questioning as if she were collecting information for some top secret operation that needed to be handled with the utmost discretion and care.

  “For a moment,” Beatrice said before shaking her head and getting back to the orange and poppy seed cupcakes she was supposed to be making.

  Amelia was afraid that today might end up being a plain vanilla with cream cheese frosting day. She’d have to put a notice up, saying the gourmet cupcakes will be back tomorrow once the baker gets her faculties back.

  “Okay. Well, you take it easy in here. Remember, they are just cupcakes.” Amelia patted Beatrice gently on the shoulder before she left and joined Lila, who had been studying Lionel the entire time.

  “You know, he barely moved,” Lila whispered. “He sat perfectly still. I don’t know what he’s doing.”

  “Maybe he’s just enjoying the beautiful view and the day. Could that be it? You’re as jumpy as Beatrice is.” Amelia chuckled.

  “My gosh, you are right about that,” Lila said.

  “Excuse me, Lionel Hascolm?” Amelia called out.

  The man straightened even more in his seat before standing up from the picnic table and turning around. He had round spectacles and was wearing a dapper suit with a vintage tie.

  “Amelia Harley, I presume. And you are Lila Bergman. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He extended his long arm and slender fingers. Amelia shook his hand, and Lila followed. “I’ve done a fair bit of research on your establishment. You’ve been written up by some of the most prominent food critics, and from the looks of things, this has all the makings of a successful business not just here but nationwide. Just what I’ve been looking for.”

  “Really.” Amelia thought Lionel was honest, direct, and very professional. But something wasn’t sitting well with her. “Do you have a résumé that I can look at?”

  He looked rather shocked at the request but did reach into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope that he handed over to Amelia.

  “I’ll give you a little bit of my background. I am currently working at the Baumgarten Hotel as their second pastry chef under the tutelage of Pastry Chef Felix Crie, who has been featured on—”

  “Oh yes. I’ve seen him on some cooking shows. He has an interesting reputation,” Lila added. “How is it working for him?”

  “The experience is noteworthy,” Lionel replied. “But I must admit that I don’t feel he allows for too many experimental flavors in his kitchen. At least not from what I’ve seen.”

  “And you know Beatrice. She would be who you would be answering to,” Amelia added.

  The glimmer in Lionel’s eye dulled for a second and then returned.

  “Beatrice was by far the only person I ever saw as any kind of competition. She has a gift. That is for sure. She’s lucky to have gotten in on the ground floor of such a prosperous enterprise.”

  There it was again. The thing Amelia didn’t like.

  “Okay, Lila, do you have any questions?” Amelia asked, tight-lipped, looking at Lila.

  “I don’t think so,” she said curiously.

  “Lionel, thank you for paying us a visit. We do have other applicants we are interviewing. So I’ll let you know by Monday of our decision.”

  She watched his expression and saw that he had obviously never been told no before. Amelia reached out, shook his hand firmly, and walked back to the truck. Once inside, she looked at Beatrice, who was staring into one of the oven windows, the red glow highlighting her cheeks and forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Beatrice. But Lionel isn’t going to work,” Amelia said softly.

  Just then, Lila came up the stairs and into the back of the truck.

  “You didn’t like him,” Beatrice said.

  “No, I didn’t,” Amelia said. “I don’t care how good a baker he is. I just didn’t get a good feeling from him. He gave me the impression that if given the chance he’d steal The Pink Cupcake out from under me, and he came across smart enough to do just that. This is our business. We’ve made it what it is.”

  Beatrice was staring at Amelia and Lila with her mouth hanging open. “You seriously are not going to hire him? But he was the best baker in my school. They all said he had a gift.”

  “That’s what he said about you,” Amelia replied.

  “I don’t know if you’ve made the right decision,” Beatrice said, her hands in her lap.

  “Oh, I did. We’re going to give someone else a shot. I think we need to find someone more like you, Beatrice, who wants to have a job they love and loves the job they have. What do you think?” Amelia smiled.

  “Quite frankly, I didn’t care for his hat,” Lila joked. “Anyone who wears a hat like that shouldn’t be trusted around desserts.”

  Beatrice stood up and was back to her old self. She returned to her workstation and, almost without looking, gathered her supplies from the shelves and racks nearby to start on the next batch of cupcakes. From the looks of it, she was making something new.

  “What have you got there?” Amelia asked as she went to the order window.

  “I was thinking of a pistachio mocha with a cherry glaze over the top. It would be just a slight variation on your pistachio cream with orange. It’s not groundbreaking, but it might be nice.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Make enough for me to take home to the samplers,” Amelia said. “They love your new ideas. In fact, I don’t think there has been one they haven’t completely devoured.”

  The tempo and conversation went back to normal now that the idea of hiring Lionel Hascolm was put to rest. Amelia decided to just place a simple ad as she’d done before Beatrice applied and would hope for lightning to strike twice. Stranger things have happened.

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been three days since Amelia had tried to seamlessly blend in at the fundraising event that had taken place at The Old Barn, and her toes were finally getting the feeling back in them after being pinched to a point. Her phone had been ringing off the hook with follow-up calls to venues she’d looked into. She’d put a wedding dress on hold that she really liked at the time, but then had second and third thoughts about it by the time she pulled out of the store parking lot. She never called back or stopped in to discuss it further.

  What was wrong with her? She couldn’t wait to marry Dan. She was crazy about him. But all of this planning and scheduling and decision-making that might have meant something the first time around seemed absolutely ridiculous for her second marriage. Someone even asked Christine if Amelia was having a bridal shower.

  “A bridal shower?” Amelia gasped. “Why would I do that? I have everything. Twice. Dan has all his stuff too.” But apparently that was now a thing. That second marriages, no matter how old the bride was, were worthy of a bridal shower. The world of matrimony had gone crazy, and it was trying to drag Amelia along with it. And then charge her exorbitant amounts of money to do so.

  It was one of her greatest pleasures to sit at her kitchen table with a cup of hot coffee, a slice of thick, buttery pound cake that deserved another slathering of butter across the top, and the newspaper. The kids had already gone out to enjoy their Saturday morning with friends. Dan was at his apartment getting some rest for the afternoon shift. Amelia had the house to herself with the only distraction being a cardinal chirping outside and the wind chime Meg had hung by the kitchen window.

  As she unfolded the newspaper, she took her time, scanning every page until a small headline on the real estate page made her choke on her coffee.

  “Samuel Hope, husband of the late Sondra Hope, owner of The Old Barn Banquets, has announced the sale of The Old Barn. After the untimely death of his wife, Sondra, who was murdered in broad daylight…” Amelia silently read the rest as her mind was reeling. “Mr. Hope will be staying in nearby Will County with family as the property is put up for sale.”

  It was just the news Amelia needed. Hopefully, Rosa and Ronny hadn’t found whatever it was they were looking for. Now the question was, does she go over there now or wait until nightfall? Thankfully, her children made the decision for her. Within minutes of reading the article and taking a few sips of coffee, Amelia got a call from Meg, begging to spend the night at Katherine’s house.

  “Her family is going to Rockin’ Lanes tonight for bowling, and it’s so much fun there. Can I stay? Please, please?” Meg asked.

  “Now, I was sure I had a list of chores you were supposed to do, and we still have to find you a dress for the wedding,” Amelia teased.

  “Oh, Mom, no one is going to be paying attention to me. They always just focus on the bride. I could wear a toga and no one would notice,” Meg griped.

  “You know, that is a great idea. Maybe we should make it a toga wedding.” Amelia laughed. “Then, when the ceremony is over, we just put our outfits back on our beds.”

  “Mom, you are so weird,” Meg said, rolling her eyes loud enough for Amelia to hear.

  “Okay, have fun and tell Katherine about my toga wedding idea. I bet she’ll like it,” Amelia said before telling Meg she loved her more and giving three kisses into the phone.

  As if he’d overheard Meg’s request, Adam called within minutes, asking if he could stay at his friend Tommy’s house.

  “They invited me to go to the skate park up in Orland. His dad is taking us,” Adam said. There wasn’t the breathless anticipation that his sister always displayed.

  “Hey, Meg thinks we should have a toga wedding. What do you think? Everyone wear a toga?” Amelia asked.

  “Okay, but where will you put the vomitorium?” Adam asked seriously.

  “Thanks for ruining my joke. Go and have fun.”

  Amelia sighed before smiling as her son replied, “Thanks, Mom.”

  It would be a long time to wait, but Amelia didn’t think going back to The Old Barn in the middle of the day was a good idea. Even if she were a prospective buyer, saying she was just in the neighborhood at ten o’clock, and thought she’d take a look wasn’t completely unheard of. Right?

  Perhaps her events were going to be strictly at nighttime. She’d want to know what the place looked like. Maybe an eccentric buyer like herself thought it was bad luck to look at property at any other time of day. There was a myriad of reasons she could give for snooping around the property at dusk. So when the time finally came, Amelia was feeling confident that her plan was going to work out. But, as she was driving to The Old Barn, a nervous feeling settled into the pit of her stomach.

  “Of course you’re nervous. Only a real head case wouldn’t be nervous,” she muttered to the steering wheel as she found a place to park three blocks away from the property.

  The sun was almost completely behind the horizon leaving a pale cape of purple in the sky before the dark night sky took over. There were just a few stars, and the crescent moon didn’t provide much light. Amelia was marching down the sidewalk in a pair of dark sweatpants and gym shoes, thinking that this would be a fairly easy endeavor. But, as she neared the gravel road and looked up the hill to the house that stood before The Old Barn, she started to second-guess herself.

  None of the cheerful lights that she’d seen just a few evenings ago were on. The house looked completely deserted. The big barn in the back was shut up tight with only a sickly green lamp over the sliding barn door giving off any light. The smokehouse and the garden shed looked like hunchbacked creatures looming in the distance.