Sweet Taffy and Murder: Sweet Taffy Cozy Mysteries Book #1

by Dana Moss

  “So you’ve decided to take things seriously? Do your best at your job. Be a Team Elf?”

  Taffy nodded slowly. He sounded off somehow, but she didn’t know why. His lips made the shape of a smile, but there was a coolness in his gaze.

  Then the smile disappeared altogether, and he leaned forward, his eyebrows forming an angry vee at the base of his large forehead.

  “Is that why you intentionally coated the gummy worms with sweet powder rather than sour?”

  “What?”

  “Fifty pounds of sour worms that aren’t sour! You mixed the wrong powder into the barrels yesterday afternoon!”

  “I didn’t mean— ”

  “Of course you didn’t mean. But you did.”

  “But I—”

  He stood up behind his desk. “I know you think you’re too good for us here—”

  She tried to protest, but he cut her off.

  “But sabotaging a task to prove a point really seems beneath you.”

  “Mr. Herbert, I promise it—”

  “Won’t happen again?” He shook his head. “Nolan claims you had no idea that you put the wrong bags of powder on the gummy worms, but nonetheless, the loss will have to come out of your paycheck—”

  “But— ”

  “Don’t think I’m going to treat you any differently from anyone else, just because you managed to get yourself a job during a time of cutbacks, just because you happen to have contacts in high places.”

  Taffy’s brow furrowed. Her grandmother arranged this job, but Taffy hadn’t asked for it. And what high places was he referring to? Was there some candy-cane ladder out there she should know about?

  “You might have had help getting this job, but you’re on your own for keeping it.”

  “Are you going to fire me?”

  He tilted his head back and stared at her through squinted eyes, as if considering on the spot.

  “This will be a warning, Miss Belair, but it’s the only one. We take things very seriously here, and you might not realize it, but these are delicate times for the candy making industry. The Sweet Abandon Candy Factory is not immune to the vagaries of an unstable economy.”

  “I understand, Mr. Herbert. I’ll be more careful.”

  He sat back down.

  She looked away for a moment, relieved that she hadn’t been sacked, and she noticed a shelf behind his desk. A shelf full of bowling trophies.

  “I didn’t know you bowled.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the shelf behind him.

  “Obviously, I do. What does that have to do with anything?”

  Taffy’s mind was working a million miles a minute.

  “Janet Harken used to bowl.”

  For a second he looked flustered, and then his eyes narrowed behind his dark-framed specs, and then he opened his mouth and laughed.

  “You’re living in Janet’s house now, aren’t you? And I suppose you probably heard the police are asking more questions about her death.”

  Taffy nodded. Anyone with an interest in bowling was a suspect in her mind. Herbert seemed to read that in her look.

  “You should know that Janet and I were good friends. We knew each other a long time, and we worked together. Loyally. I was very fond of her. Her sudden death was a true tragedy.”

  “Was it?”

  He spoke calmly, but Taffy noticed his knee jiggling, and he picked at a corner of paper on his desk.

  “Of course it was. No one wanted Janet to go. Not like that.”

  “I guess the police will have it all sorted out soon enough.”

  “Have they asked to search the house again?”

  “I told them they could come by anytime.”

  She thought she saw a muscle in his jaw flicker, but he made even more of an effort to smile.

  “Whatever it is they think they missed will turn out to be nothing, I’m sure. Though whatever gave them the idea to reinvestigate, I’ll never know.”

  He looked at Taffy now. He wasn’t smiling. An uncomfortable moment passed.

  “Should I go back to my post now? Nolan’s probably wondering where I am.”

  “You know, if the police really think something wasn’t quite right with Janet’s death, they ought to talk to Swain again. He convinced us all it was an accident, didn’t he? If it wasn’t, wouldn’t he be the one to know?”

  He might have a point, but Taffy didn’t want to talk to Herbert about it. She backed up a step.

  “I shouldn’t leave Nolan single-handed for too long.”

  Herbert gestured for her to go. “Be extra careful putting the powder in the barrels, Miss Belair. I’ll expect you to be making your best effort from now on.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She ducked out of his office, stepping from plush carpet onto utilitarian tile.

  Walking down the hall, she passed the framed picture of Janet. Was it possible Herbert had murdered her? Even if he was right about Swain misleading the police, Taffy had the distinct impression he was hiding something himself.

  She bumped into Ellie in the hall outside the women’s restroom.

  “How’d it go with Herbie?” said Ellie.

  “Not great. Seems I’ve landed on everyone’s bad side in this town.”

  “Not mine,” said Ellie cheerfully.

  Taffy forced a smile. “He really doesn’t like me.”

  “Can’t imagine why. You’re practically perfect.”

  Ellie's appraising gaze honed in on Taffy’s forehead.

  “Except for that pimple.”

  “What?” Taffy felt the bump above her right eyebrow.

  “I’ve got some awesome cosmetic samples at home. I’ll give you some tomorrow at the party.”

  “Why not after work?” She was supposed to see Ethan later this evening for her coffee lesson.

  “I’ve got a shift at the gas station tonight. Sorry.”

  She was about to turn into the restroom.

  “Hey, Ellie.” Taffy lowered her voice. “Do you think Mr. Herbert could have had anything to do with Janet’s death?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The police have reopened the case. Turns out the death was not an accident.”

  Ellie’s already big eyes got wider. “You think our boss might be a murderer?”

  “That I can’t say for sure. But I think he’s hiding something. More than just an affair with the accountant.”

  Ellie bit her lip. “He’s definitely changed in the last few months. And I’d say he’s gotten worse since Janet died.”

  “How so?”

  “More jumpy and tense. I mean, I guess they used to be friends, but he also seemed kind of relieved after she was gone. But also more stressed.”

  “How so?”

  “I remember, almost a year ago, when Gillian was hired, Janet wasn’t happy about it. She came to the office, and they had a big fight. I figured it was because Gillian was kind of pretty, and I think Janet and Herbert still had a thing going then.”

  “So she might have been angry and jealous?”

  Ellie shrugged. “But that was a long time ago. I’m sure Janet got over it. Because she’d decided to move away and all. But wait.” Ellie screwed up her face in concentration. “There was another time, about a month ago. Janet came to the factory to see him. She was really angry about something. I saw her storming out of his office. She was always so friendly usually, and she’d always say hi to me and ask me if I was still playing the piano—I’d lie and say ‘sometimes’—but that day she didn’t even notice me, just strode right on by. After that I saw Herbie sneak over to Gillian’s office. That’s all I remember.”

  “I saw Herbert and Gillian arguing yesterday in the parking lot. I think the police had called him earlier in the day.”

  “I really can’t imagine Herbie hurting a flea. Can you?”

  “Not really.” But didn’t killers often turn out to be the people you thought you knew and least suspected?

  “Any idea w
here he was the night Janet died?”

  “Not a clue, but I know I was at a mosh pit up in Portland because when I heard about it the next day I remember I had the worst hangover.” She smiled and giggled to herself. “Just brutal. By the way, I’ve ordered a keg for the party tomorrow. And now I really, really have to pee.” She dashed through the restroom door.

  Taffy thought Ellie seemed rather nonchalant about the whole business. But then again, Taffy didn’t have two clues to rub together. And only thin conjecture, which was biased: Mr. Herbert didn’t like her and she didn’t like him, which wasn’t reason enough to point an accusing finger. There was the bowling connection, but he wasn’t the only one who bowled in this town.

  As Taffy headed off to join Nolan and the gummy worms, she told herself she’d track down Randall Swain on the weekend and ask him a few questions.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Taffy went home before going over to Ethan’s. She washed a fine layer of sour dust from her eyebrows and eyelashes and managed to sneeze only once. She poked at her pimple but only succeeded in making it more red and swollen.

  An hour later, she knocked on Ethan’s door. He opened it right away and dazzled her with that lopsided grin, which made her heart beat faster. Then his eyes flicked to her forehead, and Taffy felt immediately self-conscious.

  “Come on in.” He stepped into the hall and let her close the door behind herself. “I’ve got it all set up.”

  Taffy had been hoping for a bit of preamble, a little bit of flirting, maybe some kind of foreplay that had nothing to do with coffee, but Ethan seemed to have one thing on his mind, and apparently it wasn’t the same thing Taffy had on hers. She blamed the pimple.

  Half of Ethan’s counter was taken up with his coffee contraption. He started pointing out different parts of the apparatus.

  Taffy tried to make an argument for taking baby steps, but Ethan would have none of it. He showed her how his special system worked. Her favorite part was when he put his arms around her back so he could guide her fingers to set the tube at the right drip angle to flow into the beaker.

  “Why don’t you just buy a Nespresso machine?”

  He grimaced. “That’s the easy way out. Plus you’re adding heaps of garbage to the landfills. This system is totally organic and wastes nothing.”

  “But it’s so much trouble.”

  “Anything worthwhile is worth a little bit of effort, don’t you think?”

  He offered her the first mug. When she tasted it, she had to agree.

  “I made that?”

  He laughed. “With a bit of help.”

  She set the mug down on the long kitchen table and looked up at him through her lashes.

  “I could use some help with a few other things, Mr. Ranger.”

  She was determined not to leave this evening with only the taste of coffee on her lips.

  Ethan’s lips had sort of frozen in a half smile. Was he blushing? Hard to tell under his light beard growth. Taffy was thinking daring thoughts, specifically about sliding her hands around his waist and pulling him towards her, when there was a loud banging on the front door.

  Ethan stepped back. “I ordered pizza.” His full smile was back, though it seemed to be a smile of relief. He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and headed for the door.

  She heard him say, “Thanks, Nolan.” Taffy peered down the hall to the door.

  “Nolan? What are you doing here?” But it was obvious: he was delivering pizzas. He stood in the door holding an insulated square bag and wearing a little red and blue cap.

  “Hey, Taffy! Great job on the floor today. You got those worms good and sour this time.” He gave her a little saluting wave. “Have a good night.”

  Ethan closed the door holding two pizza boxes balanced on one hand. By the time he got back to the kitchen, the potential moment that Taffy had tried to build was broken.

  “So everyone really does do more than one thing in this town. I can barely do one thing.” She thought about nearly losing her job at the candy factory.

  “I beg to differ,” Ethan said, setting the pizzas on the table and pulling two beers from the fridge.

  “I’m getting used to that,” Taffy mumbled.

  Ethan didn’t seem to hear her and carried on. “You’re holding down a new job.”

  “Barely.”

  “And now you’re getting yourself wound up in a murder investigation.” He held up a second finger, making the international sign for peace. “Maria told me she reopened the case. Because of you.”

  “Because the facts didn’t add up.”

  “You infected her with your suspicions, did you?” His tone was teasing, but Taffy didn’t like it.

  “I finally got her to take me seriously, if that’s what you mean. Seems I’m not too successful with you.”

  “Remember that saying, ‘let sleeping dogs lie’?”

  “Are you afraid I’m going to get bitten?”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He uncapped the beer bottles and handed one to her.

  “Try this. It’s a new flavor I’m trying out. See if you can taste hints of caramel.”

  She sipped her beer. “Do I taste a little bit of coffee, too?”

  “Ah, you caught the secret ingredient. I never explain my full recipe. I like people to discover the nuances for themselves.”

  So they were back to being friends. Maybe they’d never get beyond that. She began to wonder if maybe things weren’t quite over with Maria. It’s the only thing that could explain why he wasn’t making any moves.

  They pulled slices of pizza from the box.

  With a full mouth, Ethan said, “So who do you think did it?”

  Swallowing a thread of melted cheese, she said, “No idea. You’re the one who knows everyone in town. But I do think Herbert’s hiding something and Swain probably knows more than he told the police.”

  Ethan nodded, thoughtful. He plied her for her theories but didn’t offer any of his own.

  “I suppose it’s just a matter of time before something new comes to light.”

  By the end of the evening, as she was preparing to go home, he kissed her on the cheek, just a peck, but it gave her hope. Maybe it would just be a matter of time before he’d be interested in more than friendship.

  Taffy drove herself back to Janet’s drafty old house. Inside, scents of coffee and pizza and a hint of Ethan’s manly soap lingered on her clothes, but there was an undercurrent of rose, too. She didn’t know where that scent came from.

  Midnight padded down the steps, meowing for his dinner. She thought she’d left him out before she went to Ethan’s. Had he climbed up the trellis again because the cat door was still broken? She should get that fixed.

  Taffy settled into bed and thought of Ethan. He’d said he’d pick her up tomorrow night before Ellie’s party. To Taffy, that sounded more like a real date.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  On Saturday morning, Ethan called to say he wouldn’t be able to make it to the party after all.

  “I’m really sorry. An important meeting got rescheduled for tonight.”

  “You can’t come at all?” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.

  “Probably not, but I’ll call you if we finish early.”

  She sighed and tugged at a lock of her hair. “What’s the meeting for?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Just something to do with the parks.”

  It was the way he said it. She sensed he was lying, or at least avoiding the truth. Who called meetings on Saturday evenings?

  As if he could pick up her suspicions, he added, “It’s a weird time because two of the members can’t make it until later.”

  Members? It was sounding like a club. Or was that a smokescreen to cover up something else? Taffy bit her lip and tried to rein in her insecurities. They’d only just met. They were still just friends.

  “It’s okay, Ethan. You don’t owe me an explanation. You’ve got your own life, which I’
m sure was going along just fine before I arrived, so, you know, whatever. You’re not beholden to me in any way.”

  Beholden? Had she really just used that word?

  “Taff?”

  “Yeah.” The word came out like a sigh.

  “Even if my life was ‘going along just fine before you arrived,’ it’s gotten a whole lot better since you did. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

  When she hung up, she assessed her situation: exiled New Yorker seriously crushing on non-committal West Coast hunk. She felt twelve years old all over again. She wanted to swoon and dance at the same time, and she wanted to giggle about it with Maria, like they used to when they were kids.

  Thinking of Maria made her think about the case. Even though Maria had implied her help wasn’t needed, Taffy was still interested in talking to Swain. She decided to head over to the Castle Rock Resort.

  But first, she had to make Jell-O for the party.

  * * *

  After the kitchen was thoroughly sticky and the Jell-O put in the fridge to set, Taffy thought about what she might say to Randall Swain.

  Mr. Herbert was probably right about him having more information. He had to know more than he’d first told the police. He’d said the bowling ball had fallen off the shelf, and either he had simply guessed this was the case, or he had lied for some reason, and no one thought to question him. Or no one wanted to. Maybe he was trying to protect someone. Or maybe he was trying to protect himself.

  Either way, Taffy would have to appear to be casual. It was okay to be curious, but she couldn’t appear to be snooping. She could casually ask him a few questions, try to find out a bit more about what happened the night Janet died. It might turn out to be helpful to Maria, even though she didn’t seem to want Taffy’s help. At any rate, a few questions couldn’t hurt.

  Taffy left her car on the main road and walked down the winding, gated driveway of the Castle Rock Resort and Country Club. She wouldn’t readily confess to not wanting to pull up to the only chi-chi joint in Abandon in her tiny Aveo rental car. She’d say it was a beautiful day for a walk. Though if her wedge heels could talk they’d balk dramatically.