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“I told you to wait outside,” Officer Malloy said, his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes angry. Sadie couldn’t be sure but he seemed to be pulling himself up taller too—perhaps to look down on her a little better. She was not impressed. “And let the tart burn?” she asked with exaggerated incredulity. What she wanted more than the salvation of the tart was to look around the house herself, but for the moment she kept her eyes locked on Malloy’s, not wanting to appear the least bit intimidated. She had at least twenty years on this kid and she wasn’t the type of woman who let herself be pushed around. He let out a breath as if she were a child and that got her back up even more. He might know how to investigate some tip and enjoy bullying the neighbors, but Sadie knew Anne and she knew this house. If something wasn’t right, she’d be the one who would notice—not him. He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sadie mimicked his expression, narrowing her eyes even more. “Please return outside,” he said slowly, calculating. “Harris, turn off the oven.” “Turn it off?” Sadie said in disbelief, stepping back to block the oven door. “No way.” Malloy’s expression faltered and she saw his uncertainty, which only strengthened her resolve. “Excuse me?” he asked as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Most people vastly underestimate the satisfaction of good homemaking skills and I won’t have anyone sabotage Anne’s attempts. There are”—she turned her head to look at the timer—“three minutes left. This oven will not be opened a minute sooner.” “You’re interfering with a police investigation,” Officer Malloy said as he took a step toward her, his jaw clenched. “And you’re interfering with a woman’s kitchen.” Sadie lifted her chin even higher—partly because he was now only ten inches or so from her face. Malloy seemed to be trying to find a reply, but she continued before he had the chance. “You said yourself it was all clear and that whatever tip brought you here was unfounded,” she said. “And Anne wouldn’t have been baking if she weren’t going to be right back. In case she isn’t, I’ll remove it.” Yet even as she said it, the unease in her stomach grew. There were too many questions in her mind now. Why would Anne put a tart in the oven and then leave? Sadie had been at her kitchen window all morning, how could she have missed Anne leaving? Why was the house locked up if she were only going to be gone a few minutes?
