Stay Sweet(42)

Amelia wanders over to the kitchen area, thinking they would most likely be kept where the magic happens. Grady lurks not far behind her, more watching over her shoulder than helping. Amelia pulls open the drawers, which contain mismatched, bent silverware. Next she checks the cabinets. Strangely, each one is filled with plain glass vases, the cheap kind that come with floral deliveries. Amelia opens the refrigerator and finds it half full of expired milk and eggs and cream from Marburger Dairy.

Grady’s phone rings. He mutes it, but almost immediately, it rings again.

“Is that your dad? Should you answer?”

“If it was my dad, I’d definitely answer. It’s my friends trying to FaceTime. They got to Amsterdam today, which means they’re high.” He puts his phone down and it starts ringing yet again. “Don’t give me that look. It’s legal there, Amelia.”

“I’m not giving any look!”

Across the room is a large wood cabinet with gold mesh fabric across the front. Amelia walks over. Half the top of the cabinet is lifted up, revealing a record player inside. Amelia peeks inside the other hatch. It’s full of old records. Hundreds of them.

The phone rings yet again. “Ugh. They’re not going to give up.” With a groan, he flicks off his baseball cap and answers. “Yo, dudes. It’s a very bad time for me.”

Five, maybe six guys scream at once.

“You should be here with us, Grady!”

“Dude, screw your dad! Get on a flight!”

“Yeah, tell ol’ Paddy Meade to ease up! He hasn’t canceled your credit cards yet, has he?”

Grady gives a quick glance at Amelia. “I’ll hit you guys up later.” He hangs up and tosses the phone aside. “My friends are complete idiots.”

“Forget them and help me.”

They continue to search the basement, silent and focused. Obvious places are checked again and then checked a third time. When they come up empty-handed, they exchange a brief look and start searching weird places, like inside the books on a bookshelf, underneath the couch cushions.

Amelia does discover a few ingredients that shine a light on Molly Meade’s process—containers of vanilla beans marinating in a dark syrup, gallon jugs of homemade fudge sauce. There are jars of homemade strawberry jam too, maybe a hundred, tucked inside a small cabinet underneath the basement stairs. The lids are marked with the current year, which means Molly prepared them this past spring. “Grady, I think this is how she got the strawberry so perfectly integrated.” This discovery amuses Amelia no end. She sits back on her heels and holds a jar up to the light. It looks like liquefied rubies.

“Amelia, not to be a complete jerk, but the only things I care about you finding are the recipes.” Grady lets his head drop into his hands. “Which are totally not down here.”

She’s disheartened too, of course. In the back of her mind, a niggling thought takes hold, wondering if they aren’t hunting fool’s gold. After all, Molly had been making her ice cream for so long, it’s not like she’d need to consult a recipe. Amelia pushes this thought aside. It’s too early in their search to be pessimistic. Instead, she chooses to hope. Because why would Molly bequeath her stand to Grady without also leaving him her recipes?

Amelia hears three long beeps outside. She checks her phone, shocked to see that it’s already eleven thirty. The stand’s been closed for a half hour. She glances out the basement window and sees Cate’s truck, here to pick her up.

“Grady, I’m sorry but I have to go.”

“Damn. Me too. I haven’t even started my paper yet.”

“I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.”

He beams a grateful smile. “Oh, really? Wow, great, thank you so much.” Then his long legs take the stairs two by two. Amelia follows. “Please don’t tell any of the girls about this,” Grady says. “We don’t want anyone to panic. Or word to get out to the customers. Or that newspaper guy.”

Amelia avoids answering Grady’s request directly, because of course she will be telling Cate. Like, the second she gets outside. But she does want to help him. “I’m sure we’re going to find them tomorrow. We’ve only searched one room. There’s a whole house to go through yet.”

Grady walks Amelia to the door.

Cate calls out her open truck window, “What have you guys been doing up here all night?”

“Amelia’s helping me with some paperwork,” Grady lies, almost too easily.

“Oh? That’s cool.” Cate tosses Grady the deposit bag and the day’s receipts. As Amelia climbs into the truck, Cate whispers, “What the hell, Amelia! I was about to come up and make sure you weren’t being murdered!”

Buckling up, Amelia whispers back, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time,” and she gives Grady a small wave goodbye. Through her teeth, she says, “Just drive and I’ll explain everything.”

Once they’re on the road, Amelia lays it out. “Grady doesn’t have the ice cream recipes. He has no idea where they are.” She tells Cate the whole story, including how she may have potentially, inadvertently misled Grady during their first meeting.

Cate is having none of it. “Amelia, this is so not your fault.”

“You weren’t there, Cate. I could have been more direct. I—”