“Okeydokey,” I said. “Would you like a cupcake for the road?”
“I don’t eat cupcakes,” she said. “Do I look like I eat cupcakes? I don’t think so. I work glutes and abs seven days a week. I haven’t got a single cellulite dimple. I eat like an alpaca. Sprouts and watercress.”
“No wonder you’re always so cranky,” Glo said.
Phffft. Phffffft! She torched a roll of paper towels and three loaves of pumpernickel.
“She didn’t mean cranky,” I said to Anarchy. “She meant sharp and focused. Eye of the tiger. Woman in charge.” I looked over at Glo. “Right, Glo?”
“Yep,” Glo said. “That’s what I meant.”
“Eye of the tiger,” Anarchy said. “I like that.” She looked around. “Why am I here?”
Clara bagged a loaf of multigrain and handed it to her. “You wanted bread.”
“Oh yeah,” Anarchy said. “Thanks.”
And she left.
Clara closed and locked the door. “She’s completely lost it. I’d like to get her some help, but I don’t know where to begin.”
“It’s a problem,” Glo said. “If you try to catch her with a big butterfly net like in a Three Stooges movie, she’ll only set it on fire.”
The bell jingled over the front door, and Glo took a quick peek into the shop. “It’s Mr. Nelson,” she said. “What should I tell him?”
“Tell him we’re very sorry, but a batch got burned, so he’s a little short this week. And give him as much as we have,” Clara said. “Make up the difference with bagels.”
“Do you think she’d really burn my house down?” I asked Clara.
“She burned her own house down. I think she’d burn anything.”
I shoveled the cremated pretzels into a garbage bag and took the tray to the sink. “I can still smell burned bread and apron. It’s like it’s getting stronger. Now it smells like rubber burning.”
BAROOOM!
Clara and I froze.
“Something exploded in the parking lot,” I said. “I hope it was Anarchy.”
Clara opened the door and looked out. “Did you drive Diesel’s car to work?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to need a ride home.”
I could see the giant fireball from where I was standing.
“This isn’t good,” I said to Clara.
An hour later, the fire trucks pulled away and we now had two blackened, twisted hunks of dead vehicle in the parking lot.
“Lucky thing I parked on the street,” Glo said, looking out the door at the wreckage. “What did Diesel say when you told him his car was toast?”
“He said he walked down the hill to the grocery store and got milk and cheese and cold cuts for lunch, but he’d like me to bring bread and a cheese Danish home.”
“Nothing about the car?”
“He mumbled something about calling his assistant.”
The front door jingled again, and Glo hurried off. She returned to the kitchen minutes later with a large vase of cut flowers.
“Someone sent me flowers!” she said. “I think it must be the bellringer.” She opened the card that was attached and read the message. “‘Roses are red. Violets are blue. I doth think thou is hot. I hope thou doth thinkest I’m hot, too.’”
“Guess they aren’t from the bellringer,” Clara said.
“No,” she said. “They’re from Hatchet. He’s nuts, but he’s sweet.” She put her face close to the flowers to smell the roses, and she shrieked and jumped back. “There’s a big spider crawling around in the flowers.”
“Probably meant as a pet,” Clara said. She picked the vase up, carried it out to the parking lot, and set it next to the Dumpster. She came back inside and locked the door.
Diesel was hands in pockets, looking out my front window. “I think she’s here with the car,” he said.
“Your assistant?” I asked him.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what this latest one looks like.”
“You still don’t know her name, either, do you?”
Diesel grinned. “No. I keep meaning to ask.”
She was pretty in a girl-next-door Miss America kind of way. Straight, shoulder-length, Jennifer Aniston blond hair, messenger bag hung on her shoulder, designer jeans, and a dressy little black jacket.
I went out to her and extended my hand. “I’m Lizzy Tucker. I work with Diesel.”
“Mindy Smith,” she said, shaking my hand. “I’m Diesel’s assistant. He requested two cars. My associate should be coming right away. She was a couple minutes behind me.” Mindy looked past me to the house. “Is Diesel here? I’ve never met him. I hear he’s incredibly handsome.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Three months. If I make it to six months, I’ll get a hardship bonus. He has a reputation for being a little difficult.”
I looked back at the house and crooked my finger at Diesel to come out.
“Was that him behind the curtain?” Mindy asked.
“Yes. He’s very shy.”
She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Just goes to show how wrong rumors can be.”