The Sandy Bay Cozy Mysteries series Box Set

by Amber Crewes

  “She was really upset,” she whispered. “As Mr. Cazale held her back, she stared at me the entire time the paramedics were strapping Lucky onto the stretcher and wheeling him out of the funeral home.”

  Jack shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry that happened,” he told his girlfriend as he reached over and squeezed her hand. “I can’t believe he died from nuts that weren’t even in the same room as him.”

  Meghan looked down into her cup. “I can’t believe it, either,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I am responsible for someone dying. This is my worst nightmare.”

  Jack bit his lip. “You know, I’m not supposed to say anything since there is an investigation going on,” he began. “But Meghan? Sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry too much about all of this. In all my years working with the police department, I’ve heard of people having severe allergic reactions to nuts, but I have never heard of anyone actually dying from them, especially when they were hundreds of feet away from the person who was allergic.”

  Meghan felt a lone tear slip from her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, Sweetheart!” he exclaimed as he stood from his seat and joined Meghan in her own chair, pulling her onto his lap. “I am absolutely sure.”

  Meghan leaned against Jack’s familiar brawny chest and felt a sense of comfort as he began stroking her long wavy hair. “I just feel terrible that someone’s life potentially ended because of me. And I don’t want to go to jail, babe!”

  Jack kissed Meghan on her forehead. “You will be fine, honey,” he assured her as she breathed in the scent of his cologne. “There is nothing to worry about until the report from the coroner comes back, but in the meantime, just relax. Like I said, I don’t think that he could die from nuts that were several rooms away from him. That would be extraordinary, and I highly doubt that a loaf of your bread would kill him from hundreds of feet away.”

  Meghan nodded. “I hope you are right…”

  “I am right,” he told her. “And, if somehow your bread is responsible for his death, it was an accident, my love. Accidents happen all the time. This would certainly be a tragic accident, but an accident nonetheless. But let’s not think about that. As it stands, given all the facts and information from the impending investigation, I am certain that you had nothing to do with the death of that clown, Meghan. Nothing!”

  Meghan snuggled against Jack and leaned up, kissing him softly on the mouth. “Thank you for your encouragement, honey,” she murmured as Jack played with a lock of her hair. “You are so sweet to me.”

  “Truly Sweet?” Jack kidded as Meghan softly giggled.

  “Yes, Truly Sweet,” she agreed as Jack kissed her lips.

  Jack’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of the pocket of his gray pants. “This is Detective Irvin,” he answered curtly. “Yes, I am available. I will be right there.”

  Jack hung up the call and turned to smile at Meghan. “Duty calls,” he informed her as he leaned down to kiss her forehead once more. “I have to get down to the station.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she lamented, her eyes filled with sadness as Jack stood from their shared seat. “You’ve been such a comfort to me.”

  “I know,” he replied as he bent over to give Meghan a last kiss on the lips. “Just keep your chin up, my dear. As I said, I believe it is highly unlikely that you had anything to do with that clown passing away. It would be ridiculous if he truly died from minimal exposure to your banana nut bread. Just keep yourself busy here at the bakery, and before you know it, the coroner’s report will be released, and you will have the answers you need: that you did not have anything to do with his death.”

  Meghan smiled at Jack. “Do you know that I love you?”

  Jack grinned. “I do,” he replied. “But I still love to hear you say it.”

  “I love you,” she told her boyfriend as he tipped his hat to her and walked toward the front door.

  “I love you, too,” Jack called out as he left the bakery, leaving Meghan all alone in the shop.

  Meghan buried her head in her hands. She had yet to open the bakery for the day; with the stress of Lucky’s death the previous day, she was not ready to dive back into work, and she wondered if she should perhaps take the day off to decompress.

  Meghan looked over at the cash register and saw a little yellow purse. “That’s Pamela’s,” she muttered. “I forgot, she is scheduled to work this morning. I wonder where she is.”

  She looked at the clock and saw it was nearly ten in the morning. “I had better get to work,” she thought to herself as she stood from the table and pushed in the little white iron chair. “If this massive funeral event is still happening, I have a lot of work to do to prepare.”

  Meghan ventured back to the kitchen and put on her yellow apron. She washed her hands and began kneading a pile of fresh dough, humming to herself as she pushed her fingers back and forth. The dough felt good on her hands, and the kneading felt almost therapeutic; Meghan always felt relaxed in her kitchen, and despite the tragedy of the previous day, she could feel herself calming down as she worked hard at the bakery.

  A while later, she heard the chime of the little silver bells attached to the front door.

  “Meghan?”

  “In here,” she replied, relieved to hear Pamela’s voice.

  Pamela skipped into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry I’m late,” she said to Meghan. “Well, I dropped off my bag and clocked in on time, but I had to leave for a bit…”

  “Where were you?” she asked sternly, seeing Pamela’s pale pink lipstick smudged across her lower lips.

  “I was on the phone with Roberto.”

  “On the phone or with him?” Meghan followed up.

  “Okay, fine. I was with him,” she told her, the color rising to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed. “You clocked in, meaning that you were getting paid for the time you were off with your boyfriend. That is not right, Pamela.”

  “I know,” she admitted as the smile vanished from her lips. “I’m sorry. I should not have left, and I should have been focused on my work.”

  Meghan looked into Pamela’s eyes, wondering if the teenager had been informed of the death of her uncle. Pamela looked to be in a pleasant mood, and Meghan decided that she probably did not yet know that Lucky had died.

  “Pamela,” she began, trying to keep her voice calm despite her annoyance. “You’ve really been throwing yourself into this relationship with Roberto. I know that you are very much enamored of him, but I want you to remember that this boy isn’t everything. You are a smart, sporty, reliable girl, and I don’t want to see those things change because you have a boyfriend.”

  Pamela frowned. “You think my relationship is a bad idea?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she corrected. “But what I am saying is that I care about you a lot, Pamela. You are a good girl, and I want to see you make the best decisions for yourself. Since you and Roberto started dating, you’ve lied to me and blown off work, and I never thought I would see that from you.”

  Pamela’s face fell. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I have been making Roberto the center of my world. I just love him so much, Meghan! I’m in love with him, and he makes everything in my life better. I love him, and someday, I’m going to marry him.”

  Meghan laughed. “Whoa, there,” she advised her young employee. “You’re sixteen, Pamela. Don’t get carried away. Or, if you must get carried away, get carried away with your work today. We have a lot to do, and I need you at your best.”

  Pamela grinned. “You know I can bring my best,” she declared, placing her hands confidently on her narrow hips. “Come on, boss. Let’s get cracking.”

  Meghan set Pamela up slicing loaves of raisin bread in the kitchen, and then turned to attend to the dining room. She washed each table, careful to wind her rag around each crevice in her white iron chairs. She bent down to clean the legs of
the chairs, and as she leaned underneath the table, she heard the doorknob rattling.

  “That’s strange,” she thought to herself. “The sign on the door clearly says CLOSED. Who is trying to get in?”

  The rattling persisted, and Meghan climbed out from beneath the table and went to the front door. No one was there. Meghan laughed to herself. “I must be crazy,” she thought as she returned to her cleaning.

  Meghan heard footsteps behind her as she bent down to scrub the base of the last table in the dining room. “Pamela? Can you bring me some more cleaning solution?”

  “It isn’t Pamela,” Meghan heard a high-pitched voice sneer. She quickly emerged from under the table and gasped. Standing before her with a wicked look on her face was Wendy.

  8

  “What are you doing here?” Meghan asked in horror as Wendy’s eyes glimmered. “How did you even get in?”

  “Your little teenage worker let me in the back,” Wendy replied as Meghan’s mouth gaped open in fear.

  “Do you need something?” Meghan asked in confusion. “The police have my statements for their investigation.”

  Wendy shook her head. “I only need one thing from you,” she told Meghan. “I need to know why you did it.”

  Meghan gasped. “I didn’t do anything!” she insisted as she rose to her feet and looked into Wendy’s eyes. “I promise, Wendy. I had nothing against Lucky. I had no ill will toward him.”

  “Then why did you kill him?” she asked. “You knew he was allergic to nuts! Why did you bring that poisonous bread to the funeral home if you weren’t planning to kill him?”

  “I swear, Wendy,” she pleaded. “I didn’t even know Lucky would be there. Mr. Cazale wanted me to drop off some samples, and I threw in a loaf of my banana nut bread because I know his son likes it. If I had known Lucky was going to be there, I would never have included the banana nut bread. I promise!”

  Wendy crossed her arms across her voluminous bosom. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me,” she informed Meghan with sadness in her voice. “Lucky was the light and the love of my life. No one understands.”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Meghan asked, gesturing at one of the little white chairs, hoping that if Wendy opened up to her, she would realize that Meghan would never hurt a fly. “We can talk about it, Wendy. I will listen to you.”

  Wendy threw herself into the chair and Meghan sat down across from her. “How did you meet Lucky?” she asked.

  Wendy sighed. “It’s a long story,” she said quietly as she looked down at her red fingernails.

  “I have all of the time in the world,” she told her.

  “It all started on my twenty-second birthday,” Wendy began. “I had had enough of my mother taunting me and my father beating up my brothers. My parents were cruel people, and I had to get away. I ran away from home on the night of my birthday, and I never looked back. I joined a travelling circus, and suddenly, my life was filled with color and adventure.”

  “That sounds incredible,” Meghan said in awe as she watched Wendy’s face light up.

  “It was,” she agreed. “After two years on the road, I met Lucky. It was a stormy night in Valencia, Spain, and we all went out for dinner at a popular tapas bar. Lucky and I were seated next to each other, and our connection was electric. We couldn’t stop talking, and we both knew that we shared something magical. Later that week, he began to train me on performing and entertaining, and before I knew it, I was promoted in our traveling company. I was earning more money, doing more tricks, and had more control over my life than ever before. Lucky gave all of that to me, and eventually, we left our company and founded our own. We were partners in all things ever since…”

  “All things?” Meghan asked. “Wasn’t he married?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep reminding me of that?” she asked in disgust. “I knew he was married, but he didn’t love his wife. If he loved her, he would have been home in this dumpy little town and not gallivanting around the world with me.”

  Meghan bit her lip, knowing that it was not her place to be judgmental of Wendy’s relationship with Lucky. “Did his wife know about you?”

  “Surely she did,” Wendy replied nonchalantly. “When he was with me, it was as if we were the only two people on earth, and when he came home, we talked all the time. I always called him to say goodnight. Surely his wife took notice of that.”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “Did you think Lucky would leave his wife and marry you?”

  Wendy’s face turned red, and her eyes had a dreamy look about them. “He promised that he was going to leave her next year,” Wendy told Meghan. “As soon as he could afford insurance for the pair of us, he was going to leave her and marry me. We were trying to have a baby this year, Meghan. We wanted to be our own family. I was pregnant with twins last spring, but sadly, I lost them. It nearly broke Lucky’s heart, but my man stood by me. He was the most important person in my life.”

  “That is quite a story,” she said. “It sounds like you two shared something special.”

  “You have no idea,” she whimpered. “And now, he’s gone…”

  The little silver bells chimed on the front door.

  “Meghan!” Mrs. Sheridan greeted as she marched through the door with Frank in tow. “I’ve come for some of your banana nut bread. Frank wanted some, and I couldn’t resist spoiling my love with some treats.”

  “I really love---” Frank began.

  “He really loves your banana nut bread,” Mrs. Sheridan declared. “We wanted to order a few loaves.”

  Meghan’s stomach dropped, and she watched Wendy’s face fall. “Now is not a good time,” she gently informed Mrs. Sheridan. “I’ll have Pamela send some over to you later.”

  Mrs. Sheridan stomped her foot. “We are paying customers! We want the bread now.”

  “Now would be nice,” Frank agreed before Mrs. Sheridan cut him off.

  “NOW WOULD BE NICE!” Mrs. Sheridan exclaimed.

  “Yes, it would,” Frank agreed as Meghan rose to her feet and went behind the counter.

  “It was such a shame that that clown couldn’t have any of the banana nut bread,” Mrs. Sheridan squawked as Wendy’s face went pale. “I tried to offer him some, but he had some problems with it.”

  “I think he was aller--” Frank tried to say.

  “He was allergic,” Mrs. Sheridan interrupted. “He told all of us about his allergy when he was in here previously. What a shame.”

  Wendy narrowed her eyes. “He told all of you?”

  “He came in here and told us about his trav—“ Frank began before Mrs. Sheridan jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

  “He came in here and was chatting with us about his travels. Meghan tried to serve him banana nut bread, but he warned her that he was allergic.”

  Wendy stared into Meghan’s face with daggers in her eyes. “He warned you about his allergy and you proceeded to poison him with your banana nut bread?"

  Meghan nervously twirled her hair around her finger. She had hoped to smooth things over with Wendy, and now, with Mrs. Sheridan talking so openly about Lucky’s allergy, she worried Wendy would never be able to let Meghan off the hook for Lucky’s death. Meghan flashed a look at Mrs. Sheridan.

  “Meghan! What was that look for?” she asked. “Is there something in your eye?”

  Meghan shrugged. “It’s fine,” she told the old woman. “I’m fine.”

  A loud, piercing scream filled the room. Meghan left the dining room, racing to the kitchen. “Pamela? Are you alright?”

  Pamela was crouching next to the oven. A tray of cookies was spilled on the floor next to her, and Meghan could see the teenager was shaking. “Pamela? What is the matter?”

  Pamela held up her cell phone. “The message,” she sobbed as she tucked her knees to her chest and began to cry. “It was so nasty, Meghan!”

  Meghan frowned. “Was it Roberto?” she asked, picking up Pamela’s cell phone. “Did y
ou two have a fight?”

  Pamela shook her head. “No! It isn’t from Roberto. I was trying to text him while I was getting these cookies out of the oven. I was thinking about a sweet way to say goodbye to him when this message popped up.”

  Meghan grimaced. “Pamela, are you telling me the truth?” she asked in frustration. “If you ruined this batch of cookies because of Roberto, I need to know. I need you to tell me the truth.”

  Pamela looked down at her feet. “Okay,” she whispered. “I was texting Roberto. He and I have been fighting over text message all morning, and he sent me a mean text. I read it while I was getting the cookies out of the oven.”