CHAPTER 9Sam pulled a chair out of the mound of furniture blown up against the wall and walked it to the empty floor of the bakery’s public area in front of the counter. He set it down and returned to the periphery of the room to grab another. As he walked back and forth, setting up tables and chairs, he kicked green flyers out of his path that had blown off the counter. Ping pushed a mop in a yellow bucket on wheels through the swinging doors and started to clean up pumpkin pie filling that had splattered the floor.
“There doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage,” Sam said. “Luckily, with the rain coming down like it is, foot traffic has been slow.”
“Yes, it is fortunate no customers were here,” Ping said distractedly as he mopped.
“What was that all about? I thought you had a deal w
