The Missing Dough(23)

“Oh, it’s bound to be better than just fine,” Maddy said with a wicked gleam in her eye. “We’ve seen the two of you in public.”

His face was beginning to turn crimson red. “Maddy, let’s stop picking on him,” I said as I waved the envelope in the air. “Thanks for delivering this, Paul.”

“I was happy to do it,” he said.

“Even with Art’s reputation around town?” I asked.

“Hey, any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” he said.

I had the envelope open by the time my sister and I got to the Slice’s front door.

“What does it say?” Maddy asked.

“Hang on a second. We can look at it once we’re inside.”

I let us into the pizzeria and then locked the door behind us once we were inside. I looked in the envelope, honestly not sure what I was going to find.

There was a single business card in there, with no name and no other indication of who it might belong to. On the front was a telephone number, and on the back, in block letters, someone had printed Call me ASAP.

I showed it to Maddy.

“That’s odd,” she said after she studied it for a few seconds. “I wonder what this is all about.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I said.

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number on the card.

It took twelve rings for whoever was on the other end to answer.

“I’ll be outside in seven minutes,” Art said and then hung up.

I was still frowning at the phone in my hand when Maddy asked, “What did he say?”

“Art wants to see me. He’s coming by soon, but I still think I have time to mix the dough, if you’ll help me.”

“You shouldn’t make him wait, Eleanor,” Maddy said.

“He’ll understand,” I said, hoping that he would. Art knew how much my restaurant meant to me, and even if I was a minute or two late, I was pretty sure that he’d forgive me.

“I hope you’re right, but we’d still better get on it,” Maddy said.

We measured out flour, yeast, sugar, salt, and water and got the large mixer started.

I handed a spatula to Maddy. “Stop it in two minutes and scrape the sides, okay?”

“I’ve done this a few times myself,” Maddy reminded me. “Go on. You’re going to be late.”

I took my apron off and grabbed my light jacket on the way out the door.

Art’s car was already parked in the promenade parking lot.

It appeared that I hadn’t made my deadline, after all.



“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said as Art’s chauffeur held the door open for me. “Did you have to wait long?”

“Not enough to matter,” Art said.

After I slid in beside him, the chauffeur closed the door, and soon after, the car started moving.

“I hate to tell you this, but I really don’t have time to go anywhere right now,” I said.

“This is important,” Art said. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t.”

“Okay, I get that. You’ve got my attention. Let me call Maddy and tell her that I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

Art put a hand on mine. He was a man of slight stature, and his carefully styled blond hair was beginning to thin, but there was an air of importance to him that was undeniable. “There’s no need for that. We won’t be that long.”

I shrugged and moved my hand away from the phone. “Okay, if your goal was to intrigue me, you’ve certainly managed it. What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, as if buying time to word his next statement carefully. “The inquiry I made this morning about the dry cleaner has aroused more interest than it should have. I asked a favor from a friend, but apparently, it was noticed by others.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said. “I’m sorry if I got you into trouble.”

He shook his head. “Whatever is happening right now has been brewing for some time,” he explained. “I’m afraid that this was just the catalyst that is bringing things to a head. I have to ask you not to approach the woman who runs the cleaner again until you’ve heard directly from me. Will you promise me that you’ll do that, Eleanor?”

What was going on with him? I didn’t think Art was afraid of anyone or anything, but I was getting some odd vibes from him at the moment. “Art, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Eleanor. It’s you I’m concerned about, though. Will you do as I ask? It’s important, to both of us.”

“I need to talk to her again sometime. Vivian told me her alibi, but I still have a hard time believing it.” I took a deep breath and then decided to tell him what I’d found at Grant’s basement apartment. “I found an envelope with a string of numbers written on it in Grant Whitmore’s desk. Inside the envelope, there was a stub from Clean Break. Does this have anything to do with what’s going on?”