Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 7 - 9

by Stacey Alabaster

  "Give me a break—it’s Halloween. It's the only time of year I can get away with wearing it." Besides, I didn't comment on her outfit, a long flowing dress which was black with a bright orange pumpkin decal on the front. Was it an actual outfit, or a Halloween costume? Maybe that was just what maternity clothes looked like. I wasn't sure if it was particularly bad manners to comment on maternity clothes, but it probably was. And at the size Pippa was, it was probably the only thing she fit into.

  "Have you heard from Tegan today?" I asked.

  Pippa shook her head. "No," she said, frowning deeply. "She isn't answering her phone or responding to any texts."

  I was a little surprised to hear that. I would have thought that something like this happening to Tegan would have given her the thrill of a lifetime. I was surprised she couldn't stop talking about it. Very strange. "Maybe she just doesn't want word to get out. I don't think anyone knows about it yet."

  Pippa shook her head. "Oh, they know about it. Word broke at midday today, right before I popped in to visit you. It's all over the local news."

  "Oh." That was not good news. I wondered if everyone was going to overreact like Pippa had, or maybe they hadn't even made the connection yet.

  Pippa was waddling along beside me, looking very pleased with herself. "I was going to keep this a secret until you see it tonight, but they actually interviewed me for a spot on the news!" she said excitedly.

  "They interviewed you? What for?"

  She was still grinning. "Because I made the link between the body last night and the killings a hundred years ago. The police hadn't even made the link." The smile faded just a tiny bit as she added, "Tegan hadn't even made the link."

  I frowned a little. Maybe that was the reason Tegan wasn't returning any of Pippa's calls or texts—she was encroaching on Tegan's shtick. Still, I wasn't exactly happy with Pippa to hear that she had been on TV, freaking out the whole town with her theories, which for all we knew, were still totally wild and unfounded. The police probably weren't happy with her big mouth either.

  "I'm not sure that was the best idea," I said quietly, trying to keep my calm. After all, she was excited and I didn't want to totally take the sheen off that.

  "Why not?" she asked, indignant.

  I didn't want to get into a fight about it, so I tried to change the subject.

  "Why are we the only people out here?" I asked, glancing around. I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised. After what had happened, the entire town was on edge; people were probably locked up indoors, thinking that was where they were safest. All thanks to Pippa's TV appearance, no doubt. But it was eerie to be the only two people walking along the street at that time. At four o’clock, the street was usually buzzing with parents and kids just home from school and teenagers hanging around. It was like the entire town had an early curfew.

  "What is that still doing hanging up there?" I asked, glancing up at the elm tree. The Halloween decoration—the one that had originally caused Tegan to scream—was still dangling off one of the branches.

  "I suppose they didn't want to disturb the crime scene." Pippa stopped beside me, her hands resting on her aching back.

  "Well, I think it's kind of sick to leave it up there." Not that there was anyone around to actually see it.

  Pippa walked around to the other side of the tree, where the real body was found. "The exact same spot as the first body was discovered a hundred years ago," she murmured as I hurried to follow her. "On the dark side of the tree."

  "That's a little dramatic."

  "Come on, Rachael," she whispered. "You have to admit that this is more than just a little bit freaky."

  "Okay, Pippa, but I'm still not convinced."

  "Not convinced of what?"

  "Well, I'm not actually convinced this death has anything to do with what happened a hundred years ago. It could just be a very, very unhappy coincidence."

  Pippa stared at me. "You can't seriously think that. The body was found in the exact same spot, hanging the exact same way, with the same item over its head. Oh yeah, and on the exact same day. Just a hundred years later."

  All very good points. But still, nothing could be proven for certain. Not yet. And I wasn't sure we were doing any good by perpetuating this story.

  "Look around you, Pippa. We are the only two people brave, or stupid, enough to be outside. The entire town is terrified and paranoid. What good is it doing to perpetuate the myth that this is some sort of copycat killing? We should be trying to prove the opposite."

  "And is that what you truly believe?"

  "It is, actually. What do you believe, that the ghost of the Pumpkin Killer is back, taking out his revenge?"

  Pippa pouted. She wasn't about to change her position. She was stubborn like that. "That actually sounds more believable to me than this being a coincidence."

  "Oh, come on."

  I could tell she was getting upset. This was a sensitive subject for her and any time anything paranormal came up, we always butted heads. I wanted to diffuse the tension; we needed to work together, not against one another.

  "Okay, I will humor you for a second," I said, staring up at the tree branch. "Just suppose this was a copycat killer. Why did he choose this victim?" I stared at Pippa. "Did you manage to actually find out anything about him during your busy day chatting to the news cameras?" I hadn't meant for that to come out so snarkily.

  "I did, actually," Pippa said. "His name was Oscar. Twenty-nine years old." So I'd been right about his age, more or less. "And a recent post-grad student. I don't know a whole lot more about him. Tegan seemed to recognize him, but I'd never seen him before in my life."

  I stared up at the tree. "Me neither," I murmured. "Well, we're going to have to find out more about him. Just in case this was personal, Pippa. Just in case he wasn't the random victim of a crazed killer." I made a face at her.

  "I never said his victims were random," Pippa replied, pouting a little.

  Not random?

  "But why this poor guy?" I asked, waving up at the now-empty spot where we had found Oscar hanging. "What did he ever do to deserve his fate?"

  "Well, maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Pippa suggested. But there was something in her eyes, something that she wanted to say to me but didn’t.

  "Pippa, what else do you know?"

  "Nothing for certain. I still need to do a little research." She winced suddenly and put her hand up on her belly. "Oh dear. I think I might have just had my first contraction."

  "PIPPA," I said firmly, glaring at her. "We promised that you would never pull the 'going into labor' stunt on me. That's only to fool other people, remember?"

  She nodded and took her hand away from her stomach, staring at the ground. I waited as patiently as I possibly could for her to spill the beans and tell me what she was hiding. We never kept things from each other, especially if they were related to a case.

  "I just don't want you to freak out," Pippa mumbled, sticking her toe into the ground and twisting it in the earth.

  I was already freaked out and her not telling me vital information was only making it worse.

  "I can handle it," I said, wondering if I would live to regret that statement.

  "It's just that last time, the victims were all linked," Pippa said quietly, still looking at her toes. She must have found something very interesting about her feet because she was suddenly studying them intensely.

  I swallowed. "Linked in what way?"

  A sudden wind blew through the park, causing the dummy on the other side of the tree to fall to the ground with a sudden thump. I jumped a mile into the air and screamed, clutching at my chest.

  Oh boy. I sure was jumpy. I could feel my heart pounding against my hand as I waited for Pippa to answer. "How were the victims linked, Pippa?"

  She finally looked up at me, her eyes wide and black looking in the fading sun and the dimness of the park.

  "Last time, they were all bakers."

&n
bsp; I just stared back at her. "Come on, Pippa, that's not funny." Was this really her idea of a joke?

  "I'm not making it up, Rachael. I'm not joking."

  I caught sight of the dummy lying on the ground. The wind hit again and made it roll over. I jumped again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. Even if what Pippa said is true, it doesn't mean anything.

  "We should get out of here," I said in a low voice. "We can't be caught messing around at a crime scene again." I turned to leave, but Pippa called me back.

  "Rachael," Pippa said. "Are you okay? I know this is kind of heavy information to get."

  "I'm fine," I answered. I cleared my throat. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, Pippa. Oscar wasn't a baker." I caught the look on Pippa's face just as I was about to turn again. "Was he?"

  "I'm not sure," she whispered. "But, Rachael, I think we'd better find out."

  Chapter 5

  "I miss this place," I said a little sadly as I climbed out of the car, waiting for Pippa to catch up. It took her at least four times longer to complete tasks in her present state.

  We were standing in front of our old apartment building. It brought back a lot of happy memories and I found myself smiling as I stared up at the familiar red brick veneer, despite everything that was going on.

  "Don't you think it's a little strange that they live in our old apartment building?" Pippa asked, finally catching up to me as we hurried down the path.

  "Not that strange. It's not like they moved into our exact apartment," I stated. "This is a good block for students and twenty-somethings. It's affordable, most of the tenants are young, it's close to cafes." I sighed. I really did miss the place. Sometimes growing up sucks.

  When we arrived on the second floor in front of Oscar's apartment, Pippa stopped and shot me a look. "No, not our exact apartment. Just the one right next door to it. That's not freaky at all."

  I tried to ignore her and knocked on the door.

  A young woman with short, asymmetrical white hair and piercings opened the door. Her dark eyeliner was smudged and she looked like she'd been crying.

  "Hello?" she asked, confused.

  "Are you Camille?" I asked her.

  She blinked a few times before nodding. "Yes. Who are you?"

  "We're looking into Oscar's death," Pippa answered for me. "Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?"

  She looked a little skeptical, but young people are always easier to deal with in this type of situation. They are more distrusting of cops and more willing to talk to people like Pippa and I—amateur detectives.

  The apartment was full of mismatched furniture and Camille showed us to a saggy sofa while she sat down on a milk crate opposite us.

  "How well did you know Oscar?" I asked her.

  She frowned as though confused by the question. "Very well. We lived together. We were roommates."

  I shrugged. "You can live with someone and not be particularly close. Plenty of roommates just keep to themselves and go about their own business."

  Not Pippa and I, of course. But not all roommates are in each other's business twenty-four hours a day. Some are just strangers who happen to live together.

  She shook her head. "Not Oscar and I. We were super close. We shared everything. It didn't matter how late I got home after a shift at the restaurant, I would always go and knock on his bedroom door to check if he was still up, and tell him about my day."

  I nodded. "This must be very hard for you," I said gently. "Believe me, we're trying to do everything we can to find out what happened to Oscar."

  Camille looked at me a little skeptically. "What makes you think that you can do a better job than the police?"

  "Well, I…I…"

  Pippa jumped in. "I'm not sure if you've seen the news," she said proudly. "But I discovered an angle that the police missed."

  Camille shook her head. "No. I've been avoiding the news."

  I shot Pippa a look to try and let her know to keep her mouth shut. There was no use in freaking Camille out if she really was naive about the theory. "That's understandable," I said quickly. "Probably for the best at this time."

  I picked up my notebook and went back to asking questions, even though Camille looked confused. I hoped that Pippa would keep her mouth shut.

  "What kind of work did Oscar do?" I asked. "He recently finished his post-grad degree, right?"

  Even though I had asked other questions about Oscar, and would still ask more, this was the one I had really come there to ask. Pippa sat still as a board next to me and I could feel the tension between us as we sat there waiting for her answer. I held my breath.

  To Camille, the question was no big deal. "He graduated, yeah. He was working at a club in town. Serving drinks while he decided what he wanted to do next with his life."

  I heaved a sigh of relief. I smiled at Pippa and gave her a little look as if to say, Told you so. Nothing to worry about here.

  Camille looked a little sad. "But what he really wanted to do was become a baker. He was planning on opening a bakery in the center of town. I guess that won't be happening now."

  "They sound like you and me," I whispered to Pippa as we walked out of Camille's apartment. Two roommates, over-involved in each other's business. They even lived in the same apartment building we used to.

  Camille had given us a little more information about Oscar, but I hadn't been able to take much of it in. Pippa had, thankfully, taken over the note-taking role and promised to fill me in later when I could actually think straight.

  Pippa gave me a look. "Don't you think the more troubling point is that Oscar sounds like you, Rachael?"

  The night air was freezing as we exited the apartment building. I just wanted to get in the car. I just wanted to get back home.

  But would I even be safe there?

  My hands were shaking as I placed them on the steering wheel. This is silly, I told myself, forcing myself to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and count to ten. You don't have to listen to anything Pippa says.

  I started the car and pulled away into the black night. But Pippa was speaking and I had no choice but to listen.

  "The Belldale Halloween Killer is back."

  Chapter 6

  There was a knock on the door early the next morning. "Tegan," I said, surprised, pulling my robe around me. "Are you looking for Pippa?"

  She shoved something into my arms. "No," she said. She looked quite different without her cape and usual get-up. She was dressed demurely, normal looking, even, in a simple pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. "I just came by to drop off her things."

  "Okay," I said, looking down at the box of items in my arms. It was the kind of thing you give back to a boyfriend or girlfriend after a breakup. It was full of random books and pieces of jewelry, an old sweater, and even a toothbrush. "I don't want these things lying around my house any longer. They are filling it up with bad vibes."

  Okay then. I bit my tongue. At another time, I would have been over-joyed to see Tegan and Pippa go through a 'friendship breakup' (and I was having a bit of a hard time hiding my smile), but I didn't think that this was the time to upset Pippa, at forty weeks pregnant. "Don't you want to give Pippa these things yourself?" I asked. "Or at least speak to her before you do something so dramatic?"

  "Pippa has done enough speaking for the both of us!" Tegan announced before she flounced off down the driveway. I wondered if we'd ever see her again. I thought I’d be okay if we didn’t.

  "Who was that?" Pippa asked sleepily as she dug into a giant stack of pancakes. I'd quickly hidden the box in my bedroom so she didn't see it.

  "Early morning parcel delivery."

  "Oh? Where's the parcel then."

  "It's, ummm, private."

  I sat down beside her. My non-pregnant, extra-stressed self didn't have the stomach for a mountain of pancakes. I sipped a black coffee instead.

  "You sleep all right?" Pippa asked with a little wink. I couldn't quite
figure out whether or not she thought the whole thing was a joking matter. If she really believed there was a serial killer on the loose, stalking bakers, shouldn't she be a little bit more worried about me?

  I nodded and took another sip of coffee.

  "I'm still choosing to believe that this murder was a one-time thing, that it was personal. That Oscar, and only Oscar, was the intended victim."

  "Well, it's your funeral." Pippa stopped eating her pancakes, her eyes wide open, realizing what she had just said. "I meant..."

  "It's okay, I know what you meant." I sighed as I looked at the sagging decorations on the wall of our kitchen. It felt as though Halloween season had been going on for years. The actual day was still a week away. Surely we'd had enough frights and scares already. Couldn't we just call the whole thing off?

  Pippa pushed her plate of pancakes to the side.

  "I am worried about you, Rach. That's why I'm so intent on finding out who this copycat killer is. I don't want to just write it off as a fluke. Lives could be in danger here."

  I bit my tongue. It seemed like I'd been doing that a lot lately. With Pippa about to go into labor any moment, it was really not the time to start a fight. What I wanted to say was, No, the real reason you're so obsessed with this is because you are obsessed with anything spooky and paranormal. You only want to prove it's true because that would mean you were right all along.

  But that would have been a mean thing to say so I just swallowed my frustrations. I wondered if she'd be so happy about being proven right if she knew that Tegan had essentially cut all ties with her. After all, wasn't Tegan the one she was trying to impress with all this paranormal stuff? Seemed like that had blown up in her face, big time. But I felt really bad for her, regardless. It sucks to lose a friend, and it seemed like Tegan was ending the friendship over nothing more than petty jealousy.

  I stood up. "I'd better get to work. I hate to think of the mess Simona will leave the bakery in if I don't get in to supervise."