The main doors of our building automatically lock at five thirty sharp every day, you see, but I went around the back and told Joyce in shipping about my pan. I’ve known Joyce for twelve years. She’s a good egg, that one. Joyce used her security card to get in me through the back way.
I went upstairs and got my pan from the sink of the office kitchen. It still had bits of marble cake crusted on it, but I figured I’d just give it a good solid soak when I got home.
That’s when I heard the voices. They were coming from the boardroom, which is attached to the kitchen by a door that’s usually open.
What I heard was a woman’s voice and a man’s voice. I heard the woman’s voice shrieking “Master baker! Master baker!” over and over. The man’s voice was laughing all low and then the woman was la
