She seemed lost in thought for a moment, looking up
at the strange metal head of John Barlow, then she snapped back to the moment.
“Want to come over to the bakery with me?” she asked. “Have some cake and relax while whatever’s going on over there blows over?”
She did not have to ask twice.
8
THE TINY BELL ON THE DOOR OF THE SUNSHINE BAKERY TINKLED AS the group entered. There was a crepuscular quality to the bakery, lit only by the distant streetlights outside and the faint purple twilight. The cakes were dark figures in the glass case.
Patty turned on one of the overhead lights, which elongated the shadows. It was a cheerful kind of creepiness. It turned out that the lingering smell of cake was different, and maybe even better, than cake in the oven. Someone needed to turn it into a scented candle, pronto.
“Pick whatever you like,” Patty said as she lifted up the leaf in the bakery counter to step behind it. “I’ve got some leftover red velvet, a golden vanilla, and double chocolate.”
“Red velvet for me, please,” Janelle said. She was back at the counter, examining Patty’s work.
“You should come back in someday,” Patty said. “I’ll show you how I make the silicone molds. You seemed interested in that.”
Janelle’s head shot up upon hearing this.
“She’s like the Hulk,” Nate explained. “But instead of transforming when she gets mad, it’s when she sees crafts. And she doesn’t turn big and green. She just makes crafts. So not like the Hulk, really.”
Patty blinked slowly.
“Chocolate, please,” he added.
Stevie walked around the bakery and looked at the photos on the walls.
“This is your dad, right?” she said, pointing at one of the pictures.
“That’s him,” Patty replied, carefully lifting out a massive piece of chocolate cake for Nate. “Well spotted. How did you know?”
“He was in the group photo of the statue unveiling.”
“Oh yeah! My dad was in it, and the mayor and the sheriff and Mrs. Wilde, and I forget who else. Someone took the picture for a local guide, but they submitted it to Life and it was accepted. It was a huge deal. My dad hated having his picture taken. That picture and the one you’re looking at, those are really the only two good ones I have. He was a private guy, hardworking. Greatest Generation type. What kind for you?”
“Oh—chocolate?”
Patty chopped off another massive hunk of cake.
“Allison seemed really hopeful about the diary,” Stevie said. “But then, she said everyone just humors her?”
“She asks every new detective about that diary,” Patty said, passing the cake to Stevie. “If they haven’t found it by
now, I don’t think they’re going to turn it up at this point, but it gives her something to hold on to, I guess. I don’t know if it’s better for her to have hope about that or let it go. It’s complicated. You said red velvet, right?”
Janelle nodded. Another heroic slice was produced.
Patty made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the table with them. She pulled the tie from her ponytail, letting her dusty-blond hair fall over her shoulders.
“So this is about a podcast, huh?” she said. “You want to know our stories? I’ll tell you mine, if you want.”
“Do you mind talking about it?” Stevie asked. “Even now?”
Patty shook her head. “It’s nothing I haven’t said before. I’m lucky to be able to tell the story. I would have been there that night. Todd, Eric, and Diane were my friends, my gang. The only reason I wasn’t there was because I was in trouble. I have survivor’s guilt. It feels like my duty to talk about it.”