“We need a plan,” I said to Carl and Cat. “Hopefully Diesel will be back with the coin before they hurt Gramps. In the meantime I need to keep everyone else safe.”
I called Clara, gave her the short version of what was happening, and asked her to check on Gramps just to make sure he’d truly been snatched. Glo had already left the bakery, so I tried her cellphone. No answer. I called Diesel. No answer there, either. I was tempted to get in touch with Wulf, but I had no idea where to begin. I didn’t know his phone number or where he lived. And you know it was a scary day in hell when I was thinking about asking Wulf for help.
I finished vacuuming and was contemplating laundry when Glo called.
“The Pirate Museum is on fire,” Glo said. “I’m half a block away. I can’t get any closer. I hope Josh is okay. I’m still mad at him, but I hope he’s out of the building. I tried his phone and he isn’t answering.”
“Rutherford and Ammon are on a rampage, and you could be in danger,” I told Glo. “Go back to the bakery and stay with Clara until I get there.”
I poured out a big bowl of kitty crunchies and set an extra water bowl on the floor for Cat.
“I’m going to leave the kitchen window open,” I told him. “Do not guard the house. If someone breaks in I want you to jump out the window and hide. I probably won’t be back tonight. I’m going to stay with Clara and Glo.”
I threw extra undies, my sweatshirt, and my toothbrush into my tote bag along with all the usual junk I always carry. I hung the bag on my shoulder, grabbed Carl, and went out the back door. I drove to the bakery and saw the black smoke from the Pirate Museum when I rolled into Salem. In my gut I knew Rutherford had started the fire, either to smoke Josh out or to send me another scary message. Most likely it was both of those things.
Lights were on in the bakery when I parked in the lot. Clara opened the door for Carl and me, and closed and locked it after we were safely inside. She had an assault rifle hanging from her shoulder and a semiautomatic handgun shoved into her jeans waistband.
“I didn’t know you were a gun person,” I said to Clara.
“The Dazzles have been locked and loaded since before the Revolution.”
“Did you check on Gramps?”
“Yes. He’s not at home, and he’s not with his caregiver.”
Glo was perched on a stool. “These people are sick,” she said. “Gramps is such a sweetie. I hate to think he was kidnapped. Did you tell the police?”
Clara and I exchanged glances.
“Not yet,” I said. “I was hoping Diesel would return with the coin, and we could make a trade. I’d rather not explain this whole bizarre mess to the police. I doubt they would even believe me. Martin Ammon has money and power, and I just have cupcakes.”
“Yes, but they aren’t ordinary cupcakes,” Glo said. “Your cupcakes are extraordinary.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to have to explain that to the police, either,” I said.
Baking exceptional cupcakes, it turns out, is my other ability that is slightly beyond normal. So I wasn’t kidding when I told Ammon that the ingredient I’d left out of the cupcakes recipe was magic.
There was a lot of loud banging on the front door to the bakery, and Glo went to investigate.
“It’s Josh,” she said, unlocking the door and letting him in.
Josh was soot smudged and sweaty. His puffy pirate shirt was untucked and streaked with black grime, his striped pants had a hole in the knee, and his hair was an unruly mess.
“They’re freaking crazy!” Josh said. “They set a match to the Pirate Museum. I barely got out alive. Had to crawl out the basement window.”
Broom smacked Josh in the head.
“Ow!” Josh said. “That hurt.”
“It was Broom,” Glo said.
“It was you,” Josh said. “You’re holding Broom.”
“Were you the only one in the museum?” I asked him.
“Yes. The museum manager got a call to pick up a package, so I shut the doors for a spell. Too difficult to run the show alone. It’s a slow time for us anyway. People are thinking about dinner and not pirates. It picks up again when the ghost tour starts.”
“How did the fire start?”
Josh got whacked with the broom again.
“Okay, I get it,” Josh said to Glo. “You’re mad at me. I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I don’t know what the heck I was thinking.”
“About the fire,” I said.
“We were all locked up, but someone was knocking and knocking and knocking, and, like an idiot, I went to the door. It was three guys in suits. They pushed me back into the museum, and one of them hit me on the head with his gun. When I came around there was fire everywhere. Lucky I was near the trapdoor that goes to the basement. It’s just a crawl space down there with the rats and the spiders, but I got to the small half window that’s on the back alley side and managed to squeeze out. The police were out front and the fire trucks were pulling up, but all I could think of was putting distance between me and the men in suits. I figured they were lurking somewhere close, waiting until someone discovered my charred remains.”