An incessant, nasal voice caught Lani’s attention as the older woman stormed up to the counter with her paper bag of apple fritters. She’d been the customer who waited impatiently behind Emmett earlier. Her flip-flops echoed loudly in Lani’s ear with each step. A vein stuck out from the side of her temple, and by the way she glared at Lani, Lani knew she was about to unleash hell.

“I want a refund.”

“Is something wrong?” Lani peeked inside the bag the customer had slammed onto the counter, filled with nothing but crumbs.

“Those were stale,” she spat. “Serving expired food can get you shut down.”

“I apologize if they weren’t to your liking, but I can assure you they weren’t stale. I just baked them this morning,” Lani replied. “But I can grab my father real quick and see what he can do.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

Lani groaned. She didn’t have the patience for nonsense and wasn’t about to start an arguing match in front of the rest of their customers. Instead, she told the woman she’d be right back and dipped into the kitchen for safety.

“Dad!” she called out. “I need your help up front.”

Her dad turned around at the sound of her voice, moving away from the stove. “What’s going on, honey? Is something wrong?”

“A lady claims we gave her stale, expired food and wants a refund after she already ate everything,” Lani explained. “Told me I was a liar.”

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Alright, I’ll take care of it. Just wait back here until she’s gone, okay?”

“You good?” Xavier asked, worry lines etched into his forehead as he came over to her. “I’ll come out there and help ya with customers when Mr. Lockhart gets back. We’ll let him deal with that Karen.”

Lani snorted. “The nerve of people. Like, if they were so awful and stale, why did she eat them all? I hope Dad doesn’t give her the money back.”

“He’ll probably give her some free donut holes or something like that.” Xavier shrugged. “Just to calm her down. There’s not much else we can do, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Lani replied.

Curiosity urged her to peek out the door, with Xavier coming right beside her. The woman’s broad-shouldered frame shook with fury as she threatened to “expose” their bakery for serving expired sweets. Nothing her dad said seemed to call the woman, and Lani overheard him tell the customer that she needed to leave before he called the police.

Lani smirked when that shut the woman down. Instead of arguing further, she stormed off outside and disappeared down the sidewalk. Relief flooded through Lani, but it would be short-lived.

Later that night, after closing, Lani scrubbed bits of frosting stuck to a table and lingering crumbs. Her father went around back to take out some trash while Xavier mopped the floors in the kitchen. The day exhausted her, and she was thrilled to have tomorrow off.

A rap at the front door startled her as she glanced back toward the glass windowpane. Moonlight illuminated two figures at their door, and upon closer inspection, she realized they wore NSPD uniforms.

Lani maneuvered around the tables, retrieving the key from her apron pocket to speak with them. “Hi, can I help you?”

The lanky, dark-haired cop adjusted his cowboy hat. “Are Mr. Lockhart and Lani Lockhart here? We need to speak with them.”

“I’m Lani,” she said slowly. “My dad’s around back. I can go get him for you.”

“Sure thing. We’ll wait right here.”

Lani nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. What did the police want? Emmett mentioned something about a robber around town. So did they come to warn them about that? Somehow, Lani didn’t think that was the case. If not, why did they want to speak with them?

“Dad?” Lani stepped into the back kitchen, just as her father returned from taking out the trash.

“Yeah? Do you need something?”

“The cops are here,” Lani said. “They want to talk to us both.”

Mr. Lockhart frowned, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “Did they say why? Has something happened?”

Lani shrugged. “I don’t know. I just told them I’d come find you.”

They made their way back into the foyer, where the two police detectives waited outside for them. Lani lingered behind her dad. Anticipation built up with each passing second until the dark-haired officer revealed the reason for their visit.

“Do you know Ms. Dorothy Caldwell?”

It didn’t ring a bell for Lani.

“No, I don’t.” Mr. Lockhart answered. “Why?”

“She was found dead in her home earlier. Poisoned by an apple pie that came from Mad Batter’s bakery.”