That evening, the rain had returned, but not in such force as the day before. It was enough to make everyone walk a little faster. Umbrellas and ponchos were at the ready, but most of the raindrops could be outrun.
Lila had finished the receipts and left with a hint that she was meeting Rusty for a burger at the Twisted Spoke.
Amelia cleaned up to get the truck ready for the morning rush. She was contemplating what to make and was afraid that some of her creations were getting too routine. The PB&J cupcake was a blockbuster, but she wanted something new. The chocolate and bacon was a hit, too. The apple pie crumble cupcake was like a slice of Americana, but it too was a familiar taste. She was never satisfied, always striving for the next flavor. What could she come up with that was like a step back into childhood, but with a grown-up flair?
Her mind replayed some of her favorite treats as a kid and some that remained guilty pleasures as an adult. Butterscotch pudding. Caramel Cow Tales. Oreo cookies. Bubblegum. Spaghetti with meatballs.
As she daydreamed, she watched the people from Master Ketchup file out of the building. Another day’s work done. Some jumped into waiting cars, and others climbed into their own vehicles. Some headed off to the bus stop or to the train station a couple blocks down, and others walked to less-specific destinations.
That was the case with Penny Delmar. She straggled out of the revolving door like a baby bird that had landed with a thud before figuring out how to spread its wings. She didn’t get in a car or head toward the train or bus stop. Instead, she looked around nervously and headed in the opposite direction from everyone else.
Amelia watched her and thought to follow her. With the skill and precision of someone who knew exactly what she was doing, Amelia quickly closed up the Pink Cupcake, locking the service window, the back door, the driver and passenger doors, still with enough time before Penny was out of sight to polish the side mirrors and wipe down the chalkboard menu to a clean black slate ready for whatever they would serve up tomorrow.
With her purse over her shoulder, Amelia jaywalked across the street and watched from a hundred paces as Penny headed toward her destination. From what Amelia could see, the girl was having a very heated discussion. Her hands were waving, and her head was tilting from side to side. Is she deranged? Does she have a mental problem? Is she dangerous?
Amelia wasn’t sure, but as a precaution she slipped her hand into her purse. Within a second she found her pepper spray and held it tightly inside her palm. The neighborhood was a little iffy when the factories were shutting down, anyway. Penny looked like she might be stronger than what she looked like at first glance.
For two long city blocks, Amelia followed Penny deeper into the industrial neighborhood. But after another three blocks, small brick bungalow homes started popping up. Yards with statues of the Blessed Virgin, flowerpots, red, white and green flags hanging beneath Old Glory, and overgrown tomato plants were the norm. There were corner grocers that advertised sales on Genoa salami and capicola, fresh calamari, homemade cannoli and tiramisu, plus t-shirts that read “Proud to be Italian” and “Italian Princess” in the same red, white and green colors as the flags hanging from porches.
Penny picked up her pace, making Amelia wonder if she lived around here. But when Penny turned to the left and disappeared, Amelia saw she didn’t go into a house or a store. She had almost broken into a run to get inside Saint Rocco’s Catholic Church.
Amelia climbed the short steps to the heavy wooden double doors, took hold of one of the thick metal handles, and pulled. The door swung open easily. Her eyes adjusted to the dark atmosphere as her hand instinctively felt for the small cup of holy water that flanked the doors to the chapel.
It was a soothing place, with the glow of candles and the smell of incense engulfing Amelia completely. There were a few people scattered throughout the pews. Some were kneeling. Some were sitting. All had the rosary beads in their hands as they recited their prayers, looking up at the image of Jesus at the front of the church.
Penny was sitting at the very end of the last pew, closest to the statue of St. Michael the Archangel. It was as though she had folded herself up and had become thinner and smaller than she was as she shuffled down the street. She was crying.
Amelia quietly walked up to the pew, genuflected as was custom, and crossed herself before she stepped in and scooted over to Penny’s side.
With wide, scared bug eyes, Penny stared at Amelia for a second. “What? Why are you following me?” Penny sniffled as quietly as possible, but her voice betrayed her, letting the anger show. She ruffled like an agitated hen.
“I’m sorry,” Amelia whispered. “My name is Amelia Harley.”
“You’re from that pink food truck. What are you bothering me for? Don’t you have some cupcakes to sell or something?”
Amelia couldn’t hide her surprise. She would have never pegged Penny to be so smart-alecky.
“I saw you today, and you looked… Well, you looked very upset. I thought I might be able to help.” It sounded lame, but it was the truth.
“Can you go back in time? Because that’s the only thing that will help.” Penny used the back of her hand to wipe her nose.
“No,” Amelia said sadly, sticking her pepper spray back in her purse and pulling out a tissue instead. She handed it to Penny. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. No one can. Why do you want to go back in time?”
Penny took the tissue and crumpled it in her hand. “Because then maybe Danielle wouldn’t be dead.” She sniffed as more tears rolled down her cheeks.
“You mean Danielle Wilcox? At work. Why would you say that?” Amelia scooted closer to Penny.
“It’s my fault. She’d still be alive if it weren’t for me.” Penny’s voice was barely above a whisper. It was obvious she had been holding this in since the news of Danielle’s murder came out.
“What do you mean?” Amelia spoke softly, as if she were talking to Meg at five years old.
“I called in sick that day,” Penny whispered. “I called in sick on Friday, even though I wasn’t really sick. I wanted to go to the movies with my boyfriend. He works nights as an orderly at St. Joe’s Hospital. I called in sick so I could be with him.” She swallowed as if she were waiting for the accusations to start piling on.
“So, you weren’t at work on Friday? That’s… okay. You didn’t have anything to do with what happened.”
“But I did,” she mumbled. Her eyes rippled when she looked up at Amelia. Her bottom lip trembled madly, and the tip of her nose was bright red from crying. “If I had shown up, it would have been me putting the late delivery away. That was my job. Danielle was only in the supply room because she was doing what I should have been doing. It’s because I lied. It’s no different than if I had done the killing.”
“Oh, honey, no.” Amelia slipped her arm around Penny.
For a moment, she went rigid, as if the touch from another person might give her cooties or cause her skin to turn black. But after a moment, she relaxed. Then she sighed. Then she began to weep again. “It was supposed to be me.” Penny’s voice hitched in her throat.
“No. That isn’t true. It wasn’t supposed to be you.” Amelia didn’t have to raise her voice. The slightest sound echoed throughout the church.
“They gave me Danielle’s job.” Penny tried to keep it together. Her body was starting to tremble, and her eyes no longer saw Amelia but stared ahead of her as if she were watching some scary movie.
“What?” Amelia was shocked. This didn’t sound right.
“Joyce told me I was being promoted.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t sit at Danielle’s desk or use her computer. It feels funny, like I stole it. The files are all in her handwriting. The notes and instructions have her signature. They left her nameplate on the desk. I’m afraid to get rid of it. I can’t just throw it away, right? What kind of person does that?” She leaned into Amelia and cried miserably.
Amelia didn’t understand how the human resources department at Master Ketchup could be so unprofessional. It was obvious that Penny was going through some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder due to this murder. She was cracking up. To be told that she had to take the dead woman’s place without a mourning period, without some kind of slow transition, was ludicrous.
“Penny, my friend Christine Mills works in the marketing department. Would you mind if I told her I spoke with you and asked her to help?”
“What can she do?”
“Honey, I think you are in shock over this murder. No one can blame you for it. It is a completely normal response, especially when you feel that you might somehow be at fault.” Amelia took Penny’s hands in hers. “First, your calling in sick had nothing to do with it. Believe me. We all need a mental holiday once in a while. But I don’t think the folks at Master Ketchup thought this through. You’re being asked to deal with something overwhelming. Christine will help you find the right person to talk to. I wouldn’t know who that is. Is that okay?”
Penny’s eyes lightened when she looked up at Amelia. “Do you think they’ll fire me?”
“Not unless they want a lawsuit,” Amelia barked before thinking, causing a few of the parishioners to look in her direction. “No. I’ll bet Human Resources just made a mistake.”
“It wasn’t Human Resources who sent me to Danielle’s desk.”
“Isn’t that who handles all the paperwork for promotions and raises and department numbers and stuff?”
“Yes. But I answer to Joyce Ross. She just assigned me to Danielle’s job and walked away. Believe me, I was very happy where I was in the accounting department.”
Amelia recalled her brief experiences with Joyce Ross and thought the woman probably didn’t think things through. Perhaps she was in a state of shock, as well. Either way, Amelia was sure that Penny had nothing to do with Danielle’s death. “Okay. Well, Christine can still help, and she’ll be discreet. I’ve known her half my life, and believe me when I tell you if I ask her to keep a secret, she will.”
“Thank you, Amelia. I think your advice is as good as your cupcakes. Those are all delicious, by the way.”
Amelia thanked Penny, reassured her that everything was going to be fine, and left her in the church to finish her prayers.
Outside, Amelia saw a beautiful fiery sunset in the west that blew up the sky with rich pinks, oranges and purples as the sun reflected off the clouds that had covered the sky all day. She whispered a little prayer of thanks herself and quickly made her way back to the Pink Cupcake. As she drove home, she dialed Christine’s number and gave her Penny’s story.