Chocolate Swirls and Murder

by K E O'Connor

  “I’ve seen enough,” I said. “I need to get back and make the finishing touches to the cake before the kitchen gets busy.”

  “I should get back too,” Rupert said. “I’ll catch up with you after the judging. Best of luck.” He gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before hurrying off toward the castle.

  I took one last look around the marquee before heading to the exit. I could do this. I was good enough. I’d spent years perfecting my recipes. My entry could stand against all of these. I felt quietly confident as I left the marquee.

  I tilted my head at the sound of a male voice I recognized. Rather than heading to the castle kitchen, I walked around the side of the marquee.

  Ricky Stormy stood with his back to me on the phone. “I’ve already said, everything’s in hand. I had an unexpected opening, so you’re in if you want to be a part of the deal.”

  I stayed where I was and continued to listen.

  “You know how this works. I need the money upfront before you get the delivery.” He was silent for a few seconds. “That’s the arrangement I have with everyone.”

  Whatever deal he was making, it didn’t sound legitimate if it needed to be upfront cash in hand.

  “Everyone else is happy. You get the product and the repackaging tools. All you have to do is stump up for the labor to get the cheap pies in the fancy boxes. Then you sell them as premium products. Customers are suckers. They see an expensive label and a fancy box and they’ll pay double what it’s worth. Sometimes triple.”

  Ricky was getting cheap pies and duping people into thinking they were buying top quality? Had he had that deal with Pete? That must have been why Pete could sell his products so cheaply.

  Ricky strode along the side of the marquee.

  I crept along behind him, determined to hear everything.

  “I’ve got other people who want this deal. An old business partner has decided to ... retire unexpectedly. It happened a couple of days ago. Are you in or not?”

  He must be talking about Pete.

  “You don’t need to know where the pies come from. That’s my problem. You repackage and sell them to whoever you like. I don’t give you the supply leads, but I guarantee you’ll make a profit. Give me the money, and I’ll do the rest.”

  I frowned. Ricky was a thief and a cheat.

  “No, you can’t speak to the others. They know a great deal when they see one. You need to keep this on the down low. No talking about where your pies come from. If any questions get asked, you plead ignorance. Stick with me, and I’ll make you rich.”

  This was a motive for murder. What if Pete had decided to blackmail Ricky about his dodgy business methods? Ricky could have murdered Pete to ensure his corrupt business model wasn’t leaked to the authorities.

  Ricky was dodgy, and he’d been in a dispute with Pete just before he’d died. It had to be connected.

  Ricky spun around and stared at me. “I’ll call you back. Take a little time to think about it.”

  I backed up, my heart thudding. There was nowhere to hide, and it was obvious I’d been listening. How was I going to talk my way out of this one?

  Chapter 17

  “It’s Holly, isn’t it?” Ricky strode over as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “What are you doing around the back of this marquee?”

  I swallowed my nerves. “I’m a finalist in the food fair competition.”

  His narrowed gaze ran over me. “How much of that conversation did you hear?”

  I lifted my chin. “Enough to know that it gives you a motive for killing Pete.”

  “Killing Pete!” He grinned. “I thought we’d been over that already. Why would I do that? He was a good client. Paid on time mostly and shifted all the stock I supplied. It worked for both of us. My business is legitimate and successful.”

  “You call stealing pies and selling them on as premium products legitimate?”

  His grin faded and was replaced by a scowl. “You heard everything. That’s unfortunate. Who are you going to tell this bit of news?”

  “I bet you haven’t told the police about your business.”

  “They won’t be interested. They’re focused on serious crime, not some minor discrepancies in product description.”

  It was a lot more than that. “Is this the reason you killed Pete?”

  He scraped a hand through his hair. “You’ll give me a complex. Stop saying that. I didn’t kill the guy.”

  “You had reasons for wanting him dead. But it wasn’t about the loan. He was paying you back. What else did he do to anger you?”

  “How exactly do you know about my finances?”

  I gulped. “I have ... friends in high places. These friends looked at Pete’s bank account and saw a monthly payment going to you. If you weren’t arguing about that on the day of the food fair, what was your argument about?”

  “Who said we argued? And you already know my alibi. You got your goon to beat it out of me when I was outside the pub. I bet you checked it too, so you know I’m being honest with you.”

  “Your alibi may have been checked,” I said. “But you’re still guilty.”

  “Not of murder, though. I may have a shady past, but I don’t want murder on my record. Where’s this crazy theory coming from? The last thing I heard, the police had someone locked up for Pete’s murder.”

  “There is someone they’re talking to, but it’s not a closed case. What was your disagreement with Pete about?”

  Ricky cocked his head. “Nosy one, aren’t you?”

  “Curious.”

  “I have several sidelines to my business. Moneylending is one of them. People come to me when they have an emergency situation and need money fast. Maybe that’s what happened with Pete. And sometimes, when a person has an emergency, they’re not thinking straight. I needed to give Pete a friendly nudge, so he didn’t forget his obligations.”

  “You’re a loan shark?”

  “That’s a term I despise. It sounds so ruthless. I’m here when people have a need that can’t be met by the usual borrowing organizations.”

  “This emergency loan you gave Pete was what you talked about? He stopped paying you back, and you decided to teach him a lesson?”

  “It didn’t happen. Pete knows my reputation. That’s more than enough to keep him on the straight and narrow. He just forgot his priorities. I thought he might make a run for it and forget what he owed me. After our chat, he was happy to sort out a schedule of repayments. It’s just a shame some idiot stabbed him before I got my money back.”

  That was a valid point. Now Pete was dead, Ricky wouldn’t be able to get his money back easily. “Did Pete know where his pies came from?” I asked.

  “Of course he did. He didn’t care. I wondered whether that cute assistant of his might be interested in using the same supply chain. I tried to talk to her about it, but she shut me down. I’m hoping to change her mind if my other lead comes to nothing.”

  “Maisie wouldn’t be interested in anything so corrupt,” I said.

  “Yeah, you clearly don’t know her. She’s ambitious. Didn’t you notice how quick she was to fill Pete’s shoes? I bet she takes his food truck as well. I’ve got my eye on that. That’ll cover the loan repayments if I sell it. She might be young, but she’s not stupid. If you’ve got any doubts about the police having the right person, maybe you should look at Little Miss I’m-Not-So-Innocent. She’s landed on her feet now Pete’s dead. And I hear she’s a finalist in this competition. You see, she’s already going places thanks to Pete being dead.”

  I’d discounted Maisie as a suspect, but I was now having doubts about everyone. I’d missed a piece of the puzzle along the way. I didn’t think Maisie had killed Pete, but Ricky was right, she had a lot to gain from his murder, and she had a small window of opportunity to kill him.

  And I was having doubts about Dennis. What if that laptop I found had been planted?

  If it wasn’t Ricky who killed Pete, and it wasn’t Dennis, then maybe
it was Maisie.

  “Listen, this can be our little secret.” Ricky edged closer. “No one needs to know about my business. Everyone’s got to earn a living somehow.”

  “I can’t keep quiet about a crime,” I said.

  “It’s just an entrepreneurial spirit that’s gotten bent out of shape. No one’s coming to any harm.”

  “What about the people you’re stealing from?”

  “Things always go missing when they’re imported. People miscount boxes on trucks and write down the wrong information. No one’s out of pocket. And if anyone does discover things missing, they claim them back on the insurance.” He jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

  I backed up as Ricky advanced toward me. “What are you going to do if I tell somebody?”

  “Holly! There you are.” Rupert strode toward me.

  Ricky instantly backed off and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  I glared at him before hurrying toward Rupert. “I was on my way. I just got a bit distracted.”

  “I thought I should warn you, Alice has decided to take over.”

  “Take over what?”

  “She’s carrying your cake to the marquee.”

  My heart froze. Alice was known for being less than dainty, especially when she got excited. “That’s very ... good of her.” Or it would be until she tripped over the hem of her dress and sent the cake flying.

  “She wanted to help. I said she should wait for you to come back, but she wants it to be a surprise.”

  “Thanks, Rupert.” I shot a glare at Ricky, who was looking on unhappily. I didn’t like to think about what he had planned for me if I revealed his pie scandal, but that was the least of my worries.

  I had to get to the marquee before Alice dropped my beautiful cake.

  Chapter 18

  I shot through the entrance to the marquee and jogged to the table. Alice was just bending down, my cake in her outstretched arms. She placed it on the table and stepped back.

  I blew out a huge breath of relief. The cake had made it in one piece.

  She turned when she saw me and grinned. “Surprise! I wanted to do something useful. Doesn’t it look beautiful?”

  I studied the cake carefully. The distressed chocolate icing looked perfect. “It looks great. Thanks, Alice. There are a few finishing touches I want to add to it, but I can do that here.”

  My head shot up as Meatball’s frantic barking reached my ears. He shouldn’t be out of his kennel. I hurried to the marquee entrance and peered outside.

  Meatball was racing toward the marquee with four of the Duchess’s corgis on his heels. His fur was sticking up, suggesting they’d had a rough and tumble before he’d escaped. Among the pack was his new furry best friend, Priscilla. Although it looked like they weren’t friends anymore.

  Alice joined me by the entrance. “Is Meatball okay?”

  “No! He’s being bullied by those spoiled corgis again. They love chasing him.”

  “They look like they’ve been having fun,” Alice said.

  “They pick on him,” I said. “He’s the friendliest dog around and only wants to have some doggy buddies to hang out with.”

  “He’s running awfully fast,” Alice said. “And he’s heading straight for the marquee.”

  “We’d better head the corgis off before they get inside and eat the food.” I hurried out with Alice, and we stood guard at the entrance.

  Meatball didn’t slow as he bounded toward me. His back legs coiled, and he launched into my arms, landing with a thud against my chest.

  He licked my cheek before turning and growling at the fast approaching corgis.

  “Don’t worry! I’ll deal with this lot.” Alice stood with her arms and legs flung out. “They’re not getting past me.”

  The corgis kept coming, racing closer. They weren’t slowing down.

  Alice waved her arms in the air. “Shoo! Off you go now. Bad dogs.”

  Two of the corgis darted past Alice and into the marquee.

  My eyes widened as they raced around barking at each other and anyone who got too close.

  Meatball squirmed out of my arms, dropped to the ground, and raced after the corgis.

  “No! Wait! Don’t go in there.” I hurried in after him.

  The other two corgis dodged past Alice. She tried to rugby tackle one but ended up face first on the ground outside the marquee.

  I ran back and helped her to her feet. “We have to get these corgis out of here.”

  Chaos greeted us as we entered the marquee. Several competition entrants were guarding their stands as if their lives depended on it. One corgi was already on top of a table chewing on a slab of dried meat.

  I looked around and was grateful that Meatball was simply dodging under the tables and trying to avoid another fight with the rest of the corgis.

  There was a scream as something smashed to the ground. A pie display had been shoved over by a corgi. Two of them were stuffing their faces with the contents of the destroyed pies.

  “Stop those dogs!” someone yelled.

  “They belong to the Duchess,” another person shouted.

  “I don’t care whose dogs they are. They’re a menace. They’ll destroy everything if we don’t stop them.”

  I hurried to my stand and stood guard in front of the cake. After going to all this effort, I wasn’t letting the Duchess’s bratty corgis ruin this for me.

  “Away with you.” I flapped my arms at two corgis as they headed toward me. They veered off at the last second, yipping angrily as they spotted Meatball racing around the other side of the marquee with something that looked suspiciously like a sausage sticking out of his mouth.

  I groaned as the corgis smashed into another table and the contents spilled to the ground.

  This was a disaster. Although I suppose it was eliminating some of my competition. At this rate, there wouldn’t even be a contest. The corgis and Meatball would have destroyed everything and eaten all the food.

  “I’ve got one!” Alice held up a squirming corgi, his mouth full of food.

  “I’ve got one as well.” Rupert stood on the other side of the marquee, a corgi tucked under his arm.

  “We’ll handle the rest,” another stallholder yelled as he dashed toward the final two corgis and Meatball, a large red sausage raised like a bat.

  I raced over and caught Meatball as he dashed past. “You’re not going anywhere. We don’t want your good name associated with this band of furry hooligans.”

  The rest of the stallholders shooed the final two corgis out.

  “We’ll get them all back to the castle,” Alice said as she hurried out with Rupert.

  The chaos the dogs had left behind was impressive. Three stands were ruined, and several displays looked like they’d been stomped on. With less than an hour to go, we had a job on our hands to fix this.

  The marquee was abuzz with activity as people pulled the displays together and resurrected what was left of their food.

  I turned and looked at my cake. Thank goodness they hadn’t touched it. It was still perfect. Just a few finishing touches, and I’d be all set to go.

  “The dogs are dealt with.” Rupert strode into the marquee with Alice a few moments later.

  “And I’ve gotten Meatball under control,” I said. “This wasn’t his fault. Those corgis love to tease him.”

  Alice petted Meatball’s head. “We don’t blame him for this. This lovely chap could never do anything as malicious as those corgis. Don’t forget, I’ve grown up with those beasts. The way they behave, you’d think they owned the castle.”

  “I hope everyone can pull things together before the contest starts,” Rupert said. He looked over at my cake. “At least your entry is untouched.”

  “I’m grateful for that,” I said. “I just need to finish dressing it.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on the cake if you need to get things from the kitchen,” Rupert said.

  “That would be gre
at. And I need to get Meatball back in his kennel and settle him down after the excitement. I’ll be ten minutes.”

  “Take as long as you need,” Rupert said. “We can help the other stallholders and see if we can’t put things back together.”

  I’d just reached the exit to the marquee when there was a loud thud and a crack.

  Several people gasped, and I spun around.

  My heart sank to the floor. Rupert lay on the ground, his arms splayed out, and his face in my cake.

  I placed Meatball on the ground and raced back. “What ... what happened? My cake. You ... you’ve destroyed it.”

  Alice extracted Rupert from the now ruined cake. “He tripped over his own feet. He’s always doing that.”

  Rupert wiped cake out of his eyes. “I ... I don’t know what happened. I turned around, and it felt like I’d tripped on something.”

  “You tripped over yourself,” Alice said with a loud tut. “Look what you’ve done. Holly’s cake is squished.”

  His shoulders slumped as he held the destroyed cake in his hands. “Holly, I don’t know what to say. Your beautiful cake. My clumsiness has ruined it for you.”

  I blinked as fast as I could, but tears kept springing up in my eyes. I’d worked so hard on this. I wanted to win this contest, and now it had been taken from me.

  I tried to speak, but couldn’t get the words out.

  “Wait! This isn’t ruined.” Alice grabbed my arm and shook me. “Holly, we can fix this.”

  I gestured to the mess on the ground as several stallholders came over and muttered words of astonishment and condolence. “How can we fix this?”

  “Maybe not this cake, but we’ll do something else.” Alice nudged her brother, who was still on his knees covered in cake. “Clean up this mess. I’ll help Holly figure this out.”

  The stallholders murmured in surprise as Alice bossed Rupert around.

  He nodded. “Of course. You won’t even know this happened when you get back. Well, obviously the cake won’t be here.” Rupert stood slowly and brushed cake off his shirt.