Read Online Baked Alaska by Josi S. Kilpack - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Josi S. Kilpack
Tags: cozy mystery
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the elevator last night—and Sadie smiled politely.
“Hi, there,” the young woman said with her cute Texan drawl.
“Hi, again,” Sadie said.
“Did you find your friend last night?”
“Um, eventually, yes.”
“Oh, good,” the woman said, showing her bright white teeth. She was a beautiful girl with large green eyes and chestnut hair that fell in big loopy curls down her back. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Sadie stepped aside so the woman could pass her. “Have a lovely day,” the girl said as they continued in opposite directions.
“You too,” Sadie said back, then hurried farther down the hall, her thoughts centered on her son and the events of last night.
There was a curtain at the end of the hall, and she slowed down again, then pulled it to the side when she saw the sign confirming that she had reached the security office. It fell back into place behind her, separating a twenty-foot section of hall from where the cabins had been. The carpet and wall paneling matched the rest of the deck, but the two doors—one marked “Security” and the other marked “Staff Only”—were stark white against the more colorful décor.
The security office was a small room, utilitarian, about eight feet by twelve feet, with white walls and the same flat carpet as the rest of the ship. A desk was set in one corner and four plastic chairs were lined up against the opposite wall just past the doorway. A hallway led to the left.
A young woman with her dark hair pulled into a bun so perfect it looked plastic was seated behind the desk. She was dressed in a maroon-colored uniform shirt and black slacks; all the staff members wore something similar, though the colors of their shirts seemed to be different depending on their position. Her name tag said her name was Hazel, from Turkey. She said hello with a Middle Eastern accent.
“Hi,” Sadie said as she approached the desk and looked down the hallway lined with four solid white doors. Which room was Shawn in? What about Breanna and Pete? Or had they already left and she’d have to track them down all over again? “I’m looking for my son, Shawn Hoffmiller. Is he still here?”
“Ah, yes. You must be his mother. He said you might come.” She picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “I’ll let the investigator know you’re here. Your daughter and husband are here as well.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said, barely acknowledging the tenderness she felt at having Pete referred to as her husband.
“Please have a seat.”
Sadie sat in the chair she was waved toward and tried to focus on remaining calm. Knowing her loved ones were safe and accounted for should have helped her relax, but relaxation was hard to come by. It felt as though her anxiety had been put into a soda bottle that was being shaken, and shaken, and shaken, and at any minute the lid would come off and she’d explode. She focused on her de-escalation exercises: ignoring the shaken-bottle imagery, and concentrating on breathing, counting, and thinking happy thoughts.
A few minutes into the wait she hoped wouldn’t be a long one, the door to the waiting area opened and Sadie looked up at a young woman who, upon second glance, she identified as the other half of the photograph still in Sadie’s purse. The young woman wasn’t smiling like she’d been in the photo.
“I have my mother’s documentation,” the woman said when she approached the desk, her voice sounding tired and flat. Her smooth black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was dressed in gray yoga pants and a plain white T-shirt that didn’t completely camouflage her curves, though the clothing didn’t emphasize them either.
“Very good,” Hazel said. “Have a seat. Officer Jareg is with someone just now. I will let him know you’re here.”
Hazel picked up the phone again as the young woman turned toward the row of seats where Sadie was sitting. The woman chose the last of the four chairs, leaving an empty
“Hi, there,” the young woman said with her cute Texan drawl.
“Hi, again,” Sadie said.
“Did you find your friend last night?”
“Um, eventually, yes.”
“Oh, good,” the woman said, showing her bright white teeth. She was a beautiful girl with large green eyes and chestnut hair that fell in big loopy curls down her back. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Sadie stepped aside so the woman could pass her. “Have a lovely day,” the girl said as they continued in opposite directions.
“You too,” Sadie said back, then hurried farther down the hall, her thoughts centered on her son and the events of last night.
There was a curtain at the end of the hall, and she slowed down again, then pulled it to the side when she saw the sign confirming that she had reached the security office. It fell back into place behind her, separating a twenty-foot section of hall from where the cabins had been. The carpet and wall paneling matched the rest of the deck, but the two doors—one marked “Security” and the other marked “Staff Only”—were stark white against the more colorful décor.
The security office was a small room, utilitarian, about eight feet by twelve feet, with white walls and the same flat carpet as the rest of the ship. A desk was set in one corner and four plastic chairs were lined up against the opposite wall just past the doorway. A hallway led to the left.
A young woman with her dark hair pulled into a bun so perfect it looked plastic was seated behind the desk. She was dressed in a maroon-colored uniform shirt and black slacks; all the staff members wore something similar, though the colors of their shirts seemed to be different depending on their position. Her name tag said her name was Hazel, from Turkey. She said hello with a Middle Eastern accent.
“Hi,” Sadie said as she approached the desk and looked down the hallway lined with four solid white doors. Which room was Shawn in? What about Breanna and Pete? Or had they already left and she’d have to track them down all over again? “I’m looking for my son, Shawn Hoffmiller. Is he still here?”
“Ah, yes. You must be his mother. He said you might come.” She picked up the receiver of the phone on her desk. “I’ll let the investigator know you’re here. Your daughter and husband are here as well.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said, barely acknowledging the tenderness she felt at having Pete referred to as her husband.
“Please have a seat.”
Sadie sat in the chair she was waved toward and tried to focus on remaining calm. Knowing her loved ones were safe and accounted for should have helped her relax, but relaxation was hard to come by. It felt as though her anxiety had been put into a soda bottle that was being shaken, and shaken, and shaken, and at any minute the lid would come off and she’d explode. She focused on her de-escalation exercises: ignoring the shaken-bottle imagery, and concentrating on breathing, counting, and thinking happy thoughts.
A few minutes into the wait she hoped wouldn’t be a long one, the door to the waiting area opened and Sadie looked up at a young woman who, upon second glance, she identified as the other half of the photograph still in Sadie’s purse. The young woman wasn’t smiling like she’d been in the photo.
“I have my mother’s documentation,” the woman said when she approached the desk, her voice sounding tired and flat. Her smooth black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was dressed in gray yoga pants and a plain white T-shirt that didn’t completely camouflage her curves, though the clothing didn’t emphasize them either.
“Very good,” Hazel said. “Have a seat. Officer Jareg is with someone just now. I will let him know you’re here.”
Hazel picked up the phone again as the young woman turned toward the row of seats where Sadie was sitting. The woman chose the last of the four chairs, leaving an empty
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