CHAPTER THREE: THE GIRL WITH THE BLUE NOTEBOOK

Ethan called a plumber before taking another step.
He paid for an emergency visit, documented the damage, and locked Carol’s axe in his garage so nobody could claim it had vanished.
Carol remained on his patio, wrapped in a spare towel, while the plumber isolated the decorative fountain branch.
The man confirmed that the suspicious coupling had been installed recently and that the branch could be disconnected without affecting the house.
He also confirmed that Carol’s blows had damaged a functioning outdoor line.
Ethan made Carol hear the full repair estimate.
“I will pay it,” she said.
“You’d better.”
The plumber packed his gear and departed with a shake of his head.
Ethan then asked Carol to come inside.
He placed the brass token on the table between them and called his younger sister,

Nina.
Nina worked as the pastry instructor at Amberbrook Community College.
She had spent months helping Ethan perfect the entry that had earned him a place in the final.
His entry was a simple hand pie filled with roasted peaches, toasted oats, and a small amount of black pepper.
He named it the Porch Light because his late mother used to leave one on for anybody coming home late.
The dessert had won two rounds on taste alone, beating expensive creations made with imported ingredients.
Nina answered on the second ring.
“Tell me the pie survived.”
“The pie is fine, but Carol attacked the house with an axe.”
There was a silence.
“You need to start that sentence again.”
Twenty minutes later, Nina arrived carrying a blue notebook and a bag of clean towels.


She listened while Ethan explained the token and Carol described her years working for Vincent.
Nina did not interrupt until Carol mentioned Inez Calder.
“Inez is the reason I teach pastry,” Nina said.
“She taught one workshop when I was seventeen.”
Carol studied her.
“Then you remember what she said about measurements.”
“She said the first measurement in any recipe is attention.”
Carol closed her eyes.
“That sounds like her.”
Nina opened her notebook to a page covered in annotations.
“If Magnolia Hearth is claiming the Calder recipes, why hasn’t Inez objected publicly?”
“She has,” Carol answered.
“Three times.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“What happened?”
“Vincent controlled the event microphones, and every time she tried to speak, somebody told her the schedule was full.”
“Then she could talk to the newspaper.”
“She did, and the article was published as an advertisement for the collection.”
Carol rubbed her temples.
“She doesn’t have the energy to fight every day anymore.”
Nina stared at the invitation.
“The Golden Oven winner must present an original recipe in front of the public.”
“Yes,” Carol said.
“The entire town watches.”
“And the winner gets ten minutes to explain its origin.”
Carol nodded.
“That’s why Inez chose Ethan.”
Ethan blinked.
“She chose me?”
“She tasted your peach pie at the semifinal.”
“She was there?”
“She came in a wheelchair, sat near the exit, and left before the results.”
Ethan remembered an older woman in a yellow scarf asking for a second napkin.
She had eaten slowly and smiled at him, but he had not recognized her.
Carol slid the medal closer.
“She wanted you to carry this tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because the medal unlocks a display case at the competition hall.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
“You hid a key inside my pipe?”
“Not a key.”
Carol held up the brass token and pointed to its unusual scalloped rim.
“A mechanical fitting.”
She explained that the original ceremonial oven at the hall was an enormous brass display built for the first contest.
Its front panel held a shallow slot matching the medal’s scalloped edge.
At the anniversary ceremony, the medal could rotate a small brass wheel that opened the front display panel.
Inside the display was a removable wooden tray once used to hold the first winning tart.
“What is inside it now?” Nina asked.
Carol looked toward the kitchen window.
“That is what Vincent is desperate to know.”
“Then why not open it before the event?” Ethan asked.
“The hall is controlled by his staff, and the old oven was moved from storage only this morning.”
Nina closed her notebook.
“This is starting to sound like a game.”
“It used to be a celebration,” Carol replied.
“Inez wants the whole town to see what the competition has become.”
Ethan stared at the medal and the wet shoes Carol had left beside the door.
The woman had damaged his property, endangered herself, and nearly ruined his preparation for the biggest contest of his life.
Yet somewhere in the middle of her panicked story was an older baker trying to protect something that was hers.
“I will meet Inez,” he said.
“But I am not promising to be anybody’s messenger.”
Carol let out a breath.
“That is more than she expected.”