Almost on cue, immediately after she had served the coffee and bagged up a few pastries for the customers at the counter, Ping pushed his way through the doors with three stacked boxes. He sat them on the counter next to the register and handed Mara a slip of paper, an order for three pumpkin pies for Mrs. Haden.
“I’ll ring her up, and you keep bringing them on,” Mara said. “Will that work?”
Ping nodded and went back to the kitchen.
In ten more minutes all the orders were caught up, and the bakery was empty, except for a couple taking their time with their coffee. Ping walked out with one more boxed pie and sat it on the counter. “That’s the last one that’s ready. I’ll have a dozen more in about an hour.”
“Looks like we’re covered for the time being,” Mara said. “Why don’t you go out back and take a break for a few minutes? Maybe grab some lunch? I can keep an eye on things out here.”
“I really appreciate you helping out. It was remarkable how well you handled all those people.”
Mara shrugged. “No biggie. If you have to keep customers waiting, you have to keep them busy, so they don’t turn on you. In a bakery, that should be a piece of cake—no pun intended—just give them some coffee or some free samples.”
The phone rang on the wall next to the kitchen doors. Ping moved to answer it, but Mara cut him off and grabbed the receiver. She smiled at him and pointed to the back of the bakery. “Break. I’ll take a message, if I can’t handle it.” Lifting the phone to her ear, she said, “Ping’s Bakery.”
Ping walked through the swinging doors.
On the phone, a woman asked for Mr. Ping.
“I’m sorry. Mr. Ping is not available right now. May I take a message?” Mara asked.
“Well, it’s sort of an emergency. Do you have a number where he can be reached?”
“I can get ahold of him quickly if necessary. What kind of emergency?”
“I’m Tamara Salinas, and my husband owns a building across from Mr. Ping’s warehouse just off Hawthorne. We’ve met him out there a couple times. Anyway it appears that a portion of the roof to his warehouse has either collapsed or blown off. A large piece of sheet metal flew into the road, and, when we went on our roof to check it, we could see the damage to Mr. Ping’s building. We’re not sure when it occurred, but I’m certain he would like to get it repaired and make sure whatever he’s storing doesn’t get damaged by the weather,” she said.
“Oh, absolutely. I’ll let him know right away. Thanks for calling, Mrs. Salinas,” Mara said.
After hanging up, she glanced at the couple at the table, determined that they would not be needing attention any time soon and walked into the kitchen. Ping sat at the small break table, biting into a croissant ham sandwich.
“Your warehouse roof still has a big gaping hole in it from where the dragon broke loose the other night,” she said. “I can go by with you tonight and take a look, if you want.”
With his mouth full, Ping rolled his eyes and nodded.
CHAPTER 49
Twilight was about to turn to darkness as Mara stepped from her car after pulling up to the right of Ping’s Camry behind the warehouse. A plume of steam billowed in front of her face as she exhaled and looked up into the night sky, amazed to see the stars so clearly. The usual layer of clouds had rolled away late in the afternoon, and the evening was getting chilly with no insulation in the sky.
Ping popped up between the cars, slammed his door closed without comment and walked toward the back of the warehouse. He’d spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen making pumpkin pies, while Mara worked the front of the bakery until closing time at six, so they’d hardly spoken. Whenever they had interacted, Mara had made a point of staring into his face to see if she could detect any strangeness, any hint of the dragon awakening in him. She saw nothing obvious, but Ping did seem subdued. What little he had said, he had said in clipped phrases, not in his usual professorial wordiness.
When Sam showed up after being at Mrs. Zimmerman’s all day, he volunteered to clean up the kitchen, while they checked on things at the warehouse. Ping informed Mara that