Three hard knocks on the door downstairs made Kate jump.
“Health department!”
Kate jumped up. “Not now!” she said to Oliver. “They’re early. They’re not supposed to be here until this afternoon. After three.”
The pup cocked his head.
Three more staccato raps sent her heart into high gear.
“Oh no, she’s at the back door! How am I supposed to sneak you out of here? If we go through the kitchen, she’ll see you!”
Kate grabbed the red landline off the shelf and dialed a familiar number.
“Flowers Maximus, this is Maxi.”
“Maxi, it’s Kate. The health inspector’s at the back door. And Oliver’s upstairs. In my room.”
“¡Vaya! When it rains, it pours!”
“Just a minute! Coming!” Kate hollered. Into the phone she whispered, “What are we going to do?”
“Leave Mr. Oliver upstairs,” Maxi said. “Close the door to your room, and leave the back door open. I’ll come get him. While you distract the inspector, we’ll make our escape.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Ay, vaya con Dios!”
Kate looked at Oliver, who appeared totally sanguine.
“OK, just remember, be very, very quiet,” Kate said, ruffling the silky, soft hair on the top of his head. “Maxi will be here to take you out in just a minute.”
She sprinted down the stairs and threw open the back door. “Hi, I’m Kate McGuire,” she pronounced, slightly out of breath. “Welcome to the Cookie House!”
“Yeah, I’m Stella Branch. County board of health. Let’s start in the kitchen.”
In a white short-sleeve blouse, shapeless black slacks, and a tight no-nonsense bun, Stella looked like the take-no-prisoners type. If she spotted Oliver, it was over. No bakery. No grand reopening. No business for Sam. He’d lose everything.
As Stella bent to examine the stove and oven, Maxi tiptoed through the back door. She waved at Kate and moved quietly up the stairs.
Kate heard a long creak. An upstairs door opening.
Stella straightened up. “What was that?”
“Old house,” Kate said quickly. “It settles. If you’re here alone at night, it’s really eerie.”
“Spooky. OK, let’s see the walk-in fridge.”
Kate opened the door and held it, letting the health inspector go in first. As she did, she saw Maxi, cradling Oliver, sneak down the stairs and out the back door. The last thing Kate glimpsed as they hustled off was the gangly puppy—front paws resting on Maxi’s shoulders—smiling back at her.
From her pocket, Stella produced a thermometer, held it aloft, and tapped it several times. Then she pushed a button on her watch. Half a minute later, it buzzed and she checked the reading. “Thirty-eight degrees. Solid. And very clean. But you really weren’t kidding about the noises in this old place.”
After a grueling ninety-minute examination that covered every inch of the kitchen, shop, upstairs storerooms, and bathrooms, Stella gave the Cookie House a 99 on its health inspection.
“I deducted a half a point for having to wait to get in, because we’re supposed to have immediate access at all times,” Stella explained. “And I subtracted another half point for the ladders lying in the grass in the backyard. That’s a safety hazard. I understand it’s not the regular customer entrance, but we have to examine all access points. Also, you’ll have a surprise follow-up inspection sometime in the next thirty days. Got to say though, all those creaks and groans in a big old house? Creepy.”
Kate shrugged. “You get used to it.”