Cream Caramel and Murder

by K E O'Connor

  Cream Caramel and Murder

  Holly Holmes Cozy Culinary Mystery Series, Volume 1

  K.E. O'Connor

  Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2019.

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  CREAM CARAMEL AND MURDER

  First edition. July 26, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 K.E. O'Connor.

  Written by K.E. O'Connor.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  With thanks to Amy Hart for her proofing skills, and my amazing ARC team.

  Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

  Chapter 1

  The chain on the old-fashioned bicycle I rode clunked and ground as I pushed harder. My heart felt like it might burst out of my chest as I leaned over the handlebars. I dug in and eyed the crest of the hill like it was the top prize in a ‘win a giant cake’ competition.

  “Come on, Holly. One small hill won’t beat you,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Woof woof.” Meatball turned his head and looked at me from the safety of his basket on the front of the bike.

  “That’s right. We’ve done this journey plenty of times. The fact we’re pulling what feels like several tons of cake won’t defeat us.” Cakes I’d lovingly made this morning in the kitchen of Audley Castle.

  I puffed out a breath and blew it upward to try to un-stick the sweaty dark hair from my forehead.

  I wouldn’t slow down or take a break. Mayor Baxter needed his cakes for his afternoon tea party, and I wouldn’t let him down.

  I lifted a hand and waved as I passed Miss Emily Spixworth’s cottage, the door framed by a cascade of beautiful flowering giant pink roses. She stood by the front door, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and gardening gloves, admiring her flowers.

  She smiled at me. “Good afternoon, Holly. You’ve got a load there.”

  “For the Mayor’s party,” I said. “I can’t stop.”

  She waved me on. “Have fun.”

  Fun! Well, I suppose this was a free form of exercise, and using the bike meant I’d never need to join a gym in order to stay fit.

  It was one of those ridiculously cute, old-style bikes, with no gears and a wicker basket on the front.

  The basket was perfect for Meatball, my beloved dog. As a small corgi cross, he fit perfectly inside. He wore a harness and leash attached to the basket, and a specially designed doggie cycling helmet in a fetching blue, just like mine. Safety first when it came to my favorite little guy.

  Meatball loved to go on bike rides with me and was always happy to take in the beautiful sights of Audley St. Mary, where we’d lived for just over a year. He often hung his stubby front paws over the basket and let his ears blow back in the breeze, joy on his furry face as we zoomed about the village.

  I made it to the top of the hill and smiled. It was plain sailing all the way down.

  We passed a small woodland and flew over the bridge across the river. I still pinched myself most days that I lived in this idyllic, pretty piece of heaven. Not only that, I got to live in Audley Castle. How’s that for a dream residence?

  I slowed the bike as we reached the small parade of shops in the center of Audley St. Mary. I rested my foot on the ground and sighed as I looked at the empty store.

  It had once been mine. My own little café. And I’d done well for nine months, tempting people in with my delicious home-made cakes and frothy coffee. It had been a real community hub.

  That was until a chain café, which shall not be named and never entered, had opened at the other end of the street.

  I’d tried so hard to keep my business going, but I couldn’t compete with their special offers and membership discounts. The tourists who frequented the village always went there. It was cheaper, and they recognized the name. They must have been happy to drink weak coffee and eat the stale cakes on offer.

  I shook my head. There was no need to be bitter. I’d done my best. The cakes they sold were probably adequate.

  “Look, Meatball! It’s been sold.” I slid off my bike and peered through the soaped over window of the empty store.

  “Woof woof.” Meatball tilted his tan head from side to side, his ears pricked.

  “Yes, it is sad.” I patted the window frame like it was my favorite old dog. “Still, we gave it our best shot. And if I still had this café, I wouldn’t have taken the job at Audley Castle.”

  I’d only been working in the kitchens in the castle for three months and was still learning the ropes. The surroundings were beautiful, and most of the staff were amazing, but I’d yet to crack the cool veneer of the strict and imposing Chef Heston. He delighted in yelling at everybody. It was his default setting. The louder he yelled, the harder people worked. That was his theory, anyway.

  Although the hours were long, and the pay wasn’t amazing, the fact I got to bake every single day more than made up for it. Plus, I got to live in a castle. Well, almost.

  Audley Castle was a stunning early seventeenth-century building, designed in a Jacobean style with striking stone cladding. The gardens had been designed by no less than Capability Brown, and there were over a hundred rooms inside and antique furnishings everywhere. It was a beautiful home.

  Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t actually have a room in the castle, but my job came with accommodation set in the beautiful grounds, in a tastefully converted cow shed. It was basic, but it suited Meatball and me just fine.

  He whined and leaped up in the basket, resting his paws on the edge. It was a sign he wanted to get out and explore.

  “Oh, no. No walk just yet. We’ve still got these cakes to deliver before we get to have fun.” After a final look at my old café, I hopped back on the bike and cycled the last half a mile to Mayor Baxter’s elaborate detached house with its thatched roof and wild flower garden.

  Climbing off the bike, I hurried along the path to the front door. I knocked, before returning and beginning to unload the cakes from the trolley attached to the back of the bike.

  Normally I’d have used the delivery van for such a large amount of cake, but we only had one at the castle at the moment, and Chef had insisted I use the bicycle.

  I got the impression that he made me use the bike for his own amusement. He told me that people liked to have their cakes delivered the old-fashioned way. Apparently, seeing me arrive on a bike reminded them of the old days, when people had time to stop and chat and not race back to their van and hide behind the wheel.

  They might, but I had to be extra careful not to bash the cakes around on the journey. And when using the bike, I’d often end up a hot sweaty mess in front of some esteemed members of the local community. That was never a look to aspire to.

  Audley St. Mary was a stunning place, and that meant houses came with a hefty price tag and attracted a certain class of people.

  “Holly Holmes!” Mayor Baxter stood at the front door as I turned back to the house. “I’m delighted
you could bring the cakes.”

  I hurried back with four carefully balanced boxes of cake in my arms. “Of course. We’re always happy to help. Where would you like these?”

  “Straight through to the kitchen, same as always.” He wore his red mayoral ceremonial robes and his official chains of office around his neck. That meant an important guest was arriving.

  I’d been to his house several times to make deliveries and had even convinced him to open my café with a ribbon cutting ceremony. Mayor Baxter was a kind man, a little out of touch at times, but his heart was in the right place.

  “How are the Duke and Duchess?” He followed me into the expansive marble and granite kitchen that filled a large extension on the back of the house.

  “Both well,” I said. The Duke and Duchess of Audley had lived in the castle for decades. It had been their ancestral home for over two-hundred years. They were generous benefactors to the village, ensuring the area flourished under their careful gaze.

  “I keep meaning to drop by and take the Duke up on his offer of some trout fishing. The trouble is, I’m so busy entertaining.” He patted his round stomach. “Not that I’m complaining. Although I do wish you’d make your cakes a little less delicious. I can never resist a second or even a third helping.”

  I chuckled as I placed the boxes down. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve put some of your favorite caramel cream topped cupcakes in today. Who are you entertaining this afternoon?”

  “Three mayors from different counties, their wives, and their assistants. We’re talking about setting up a charitable foundation. The trouble is, one of them wants to support farmers, another wants to support wildlife, and I want to help prisoners. I thought, given the work already happening at Audley Castle with your excellent rehabilitation program, it would be a perfect fit. I suspect we’ll go around in circles for several meetings before abandoning the project because we can’t come to an agreement.”

  “They all sound like worthy causes,” I said. “I’ll go grab the last few boxes of cake.”

  “Right you are.” He was already sneaking open one of the boxes and peering inside.

  I was mostly self-taught when it came to baking. Although I’d completed two years part-time at a catering college, so I knew how to whip up a good cake.

  I also had a love for exploring old recipes and was experimenting with a Roman honey bread that was testing my skills. My last three efforts had been too hard to eat. I was missing a vital ingredient, but I had yet to discover what it was.

  I returned with the rest of the cakes to find Mayor Baxter licking his fingers. He grinned when he saw me. “You see, I can never resist your cakes.”

  “We’re always happy to provide cakes for you, Mayor,” I said as I set the boxes down.

  “Are you busy at the castle today?”

  “Always. We’ve got several coachloads of tourists turning up this afternoon. In fact, I need to get back. There’s more baking to do before the end of the day.”

  “Absolutely! Don’t let me keep you.” He grabbed a cake out of the box and handed it to me, along with a twenty pound note. “That’s for you. For all your hard work.”

  “Thanks! You don’t have to do that.” It wasn’t uncommon to get tips when I made a delivery, but few were as generous as the mayor. The tips went into my recipe savings pot so I could buy more cook books and maybe take a few courses when I had the time.

  “Of course I do. Only the best for the most amazing baker in Audley St. Mary.”

  I nodded my appreciation as I tucked the tip into my pocket. Some people said Mayor Baxter was on the stuffy side, but he was a nice old guy. He didn’t let his position as mayor go to his head and was always happy to chat.

  “Thanks again. I’d better get going. Enjoy your tea party.”

  “No doubt we will.” He said goodbye as I headed out the front door and back to the bike where Meatball sat waiting patiently in the wicker basket.

  I pushed the bike a short way along the lane and stopped by a bench. I unclipped both our helmets and scooped Meatball out, getting a lick on the cheek as a thank you.

  I set him on the ground. “Let’s have a ten-minute break before we get back to work.”

  The journey to Audley Castle would be easy now I wasn’t towing the cakes and worrying about hitting a pot hole and sending them flying.

  Secretly, I enjoyed the bike rides. It was such a pretty village, and the people were so friendly. I was glad this was my home. Even though my business hadn’t worked out the way I’d hoped, I’d landed on my feet by getting the job at Audley Castle.

  I bit into the delicious cream caramel frosted cupcake Mayor Baxter had given me and sank back against the seat.

  Meatball snuffled around my feet, and I extended his leash so he could wander about and have a good sniff.

  I’d gotten Meatball from a rescue center when he was a scraggly sad-eyed puppy. It had been just me and him for a long time. We’d even developed our own language. Well, I say language. I was certain that when he barked once, it meant no, when he barked twice, it meant yes, and when he barked all the time, it meant trouble was coming, or to look out because something was happening that he was uncertain about.

  Some people thought I was crazy for believing I could talk to my dog, but there was something in it, and it worked for us.

  I ate my last piece of cake and licked frosting off my fingers before standing. “Time to get back home.” I scooped Meatball into my arms and gave him a quick cuddle before settling him back in the basket and attaching our helmets.

  I smiled as I turned the bike around. Life was good. Work kept me busy, I was happy with Meatball by my side, and I was making new friends at the castle, including Princess Alice.

  Who’d have thought my new best friend would be a princess? She was something like thirty-fifth in line for the throne, so I really was hanging out with royalty.

  I sang as I pedaled back toward the castle. Could I sing well? No! But I enjoyed doing it and had no plans to stop if I was in the mood.

  Meatball turned, and his eyes narrowed before he started to howl.

  I could never be certain if he was happy howling or unhappy howling thanks to my off-key singing.

  I laughed as we reached the top of the hill and let my feet slide off the pedals as we freewheeled down, the wind catching my hair and making it fly out behind me.

  We shot around a bend, the small woodland on my left a blur of brilliant green. We’d be back at the castle in less than twenty minutes at this rate.

  My eyes widened, and I slammed on the brakes as someone stepped out in front of me. The bike skidded, and my breath caught in my throat as I saw who I was about to hit.

  “Lord Rupert! Get out the way!” The back wheel lifted off the ground as I was flipped over the handlebars. I flew through the air and landed on top of him.

  The bike clattered behind me, and my heart raced as my brain caught up with what had just happened.

  I lifted myself off of Lord Rupert, who’d helpfully cushioned my fall. I looked down at his face, and my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were closed.

  I’d knocked him out! Or maybe worse.

  “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry.” I patted his cheek. “Lord Rupert, are you okay?”

  That was a ridiculous question. Lord Rupert Audley, thirty-fourth in line to the throne, had just been jumped on by a ten stone (and a few generous pounds) woman who couldn’t control her bike properly.

  “Holly! What have you done?” Jenny Delaney rushed out of her cottage opposite the woods, a dish cloth in her hand.

  I pushed myself up, my stomach churning as Rupert remained unresponsive. Just how hard had he hit the ground?

  “My word!” Jenny peered with wide eyes at the scene. “That’s Lord Rupert.”

  “Um, yes. He just stepped out. I couldn’t stop in time.” I leaned over him, willing him to be okay.

  He didn’t stir.

  “I’d better call for an ambulance. And the police,
” Jenny said as she turned back to her cottage. “I think you’ve killed him!”

  Chapter 2

  I scrambled to my feet, staring in horror at the unconscious Lord Rupert. My hand reached for his wrist. I couldn’t have killed him.

  My breath whooshed out. His pulse was strong, if a little fast.

  “He’s not dead,” I said as Jenny returned from her cottage.

  “Are you certain about that?” She stared at Lord Rupert. “Is he even breathing?”

  “Yes! I’m sure he is.”

  Her head shifted, and she frowned. “Your bike is ruined.”

  “Meatball!” I turned and raced back to the bike. It lay on its side. Meatball was still attached to the wicker basket which had come loose from its fitting.

  I grabbed him and unclipped his leash, so grateful I’d invested in his doggy helmet and trained him to wear it. “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t mind the dog! What about Lord Rupert?” Jenny yelled.

  Meatball shook out his fur and blinked at me several times. “Woof woof.”

  I ran my hands over him to check for any injuries. He was fine, just a bit dusty and shaken up.

  Jenny continued to flap around Lord Rupert. “I’m not sure he is breathing, you know.”

  I hurried back to Lord Rupert’s side with Meatball tucked under one arm. I knelt beside him and checked the pulse in his neck this time. I let out a sigh. He was still very much alive, but must have taken a whack to the head when he went down.

  I tapped his cheek again. “Lord Rupert. It’s Holly Holmes. Can you hear me?”

  He still didn’t respond. There was an open book of poetry laying by his side.

  I sighed and shook my head. He always had his nose in a book and was well known for walking around the village reading. No wonder he didn’t see me.

  There had been no way I could have avoided him, but I did feel a little guilty. I had been going fast around the bend and wasn’t completely in control of the bicycle.

  An SUV raced around the corner and stopped beside us. It was a huge, sleek black vehicle with tinted windows so you couldn’t see who was driving.