Chapter 17: The Tape Measure

I drove back to Harrow Hill in Kendrick's car with his blood still under my fingernails.

I left him asleep.

I left a note on the tray table in pencil.

Back by noon. Don't sign yourself out.

I came in the kitchen door at six-forty.

The morning shift was all there.

Twenty people in black and white, standing in a loose ring around the line.

Nobody was cooking.

The ovens were open.

Leonard Thorndike was crouched in front of the big convection oven in his camel overcoat, with a yellow tape measure stretched across the door.

"Thirty-eight inches," he said. "Danielle, write that down."

Danielle was leaning on the pass in a white coat, typing on her phone.

The banker stood a little apart, with his hands behind his back and his face.

Chloe was at the pastry station with her arms folded.

She saw me and her eyes went wide.

Leonard stood up, groaning a little at the knees.

"Look who's here," he said warmly. "Good morning, sweetheart. How's the patient?"

The kitchen went quiet.

"How do you know about the patient?" I said.

"It's a small county." He let the tape snap back into its case. "Terrible thing. People drive like animals up here."

I looked at the banker.

"What is he doing in our kitchen?"

The banker cleared his throat.

"Mr. Thorndike's firm holds a loan secured against half of this company. He asked to see the facilities. The board saw no reason to refuse."

"The board," I said.

"The board," said the banker, "is running the company, Miss Bradbury. As of yesterday morning."

Leonard pulled the tape out again and measured the width of the walk-in door.