A Pie to Die For: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

by Stacey Alabaster

  "Yeah well, it doesn't sound too delightful." I sat up and scrunched up my nose. "Oh, what the heck—pour me a cup."

  "Are you sure?" Pippa asked with a cheeky grin.

  "Go on. I'll be brave."

  I braced myself as the brown liquid hit the white mug.

  It was as disgusting as I had imagined, but at least it made me laugh when the pungent concoction hit my tongue. Pippa always had a way of cheering me up. If it wasn't her unusual concoctions, or her ever changing hair color—red this week but pink the last, and purple a week before that—then it was her never-ending array of careers and job changes that entertained me and kept me on my toes. When you're trying to run your own business, forced to be responsible day in and day out, you have to live vicariously through some of your more free-spirited friends. And Pippa was definitely that: free-spirited.

  "Hey!" I said suddenly, as an idea began to brew in my brain. I didn't know if it was the tea that suddenly brought all my senses to life or what it was, but I found myself slamming my mug on the table with new found enthusiasm. "Pippa, have you got a job at the moment?" I could never keep up with Pippa's present state of employment.

  She shrugged as she kicked her feet up and lay back on the sofa. "Not really! I mean, I've got a couple of things in the works. Why's that?"

  I pondered for a moment. "Pippa, if you could get a job at Bakermatic, you could see first hand what they’re up to!" My voice was a rush of excitement as I clapped my hands together. "You would get to find out the ways they cut corners, the bad ingredients they use, and, if you were really lucky, you might even overhear someone say something about Mrs. Batters!"

  A gleam appeared in Pippa's green eyes. "Well, I do need a job, especially after today."

  I raced on. "Yes! And you've got plenty of experience working in cafes."

  "Yeah. I've worked in hundreds of places." She took a sip of the tea and managed to swallow it. She actually seemed to enjoy it.

  "I know you've got a lot of experience. You're sure to get the job. They’re always looking for part-timers." Unfortunately, Bakermatic was planning on expanding the storefront even further, and that meant they were looking for even more employees to fill their big yellow store. "Pippa, this is the perfect plan! We'll get you an application first thing in the morning. Then you can start investigating!"

  Pippa raised her eyebrows. "Investigating?"

  I nodded and lay my head back down on the carpet. "Criminal Point—Belldale Style! Bakery Investigation Unit! I will investigate and do what I can from my end as well! Perhaps I could talk to people from all the other food stalls! Oh, Pippa, we're going to make a crack team of detectives!"

  "The Bakery Detectives!"

  We both started giggling but, as the full weight of the day's events started to pile up on me, I felt my stomach tighten. It might seem fun to send Pippa in to spy on Bakermatic, but this was serious. My bakery, my livelihood, and even my own freedom depended on it.

  Chapter 3

  "You look amazing, don't worry," I said, covering my mouth to hide my laughter as I tried to swallow it.

  Pippa looked herself up and down in the full-length mirror in my hallway. "This is the ugliest uniform I've ever been made to wear, and believe me, I've worn a few."

  On any other day, I would have been the first to admit that the scratchy yellow polyester shirts Bakermatic forced their employees to wear was the worst thing my eyes had ever seen (except for their week old, pre-packaged cakes), but I was trying to convince Pippa that her new job was a good idea, and I couldn't let this yellow monstrosity get in the way.

  "It's fine." I assured her, though I could still feel the tears prickling my eyes. "It goes with your hair."

  Pippa turned, hands on her hips. "Bright red hair with bright yellow? I look like a clown."

  I spun her back around. "It's only for a few days Pippa, maybe a week. Two weeks at the most."

  She sighed and attached the neon yellow visor to her head. "I still don't know if this is a good idea, Rach. What if I can't find anything? What if I get caught snooping around? You know how ruthless the Bakermatic Company is. What if they find out I'm there to spy on them?"

  "Well, don't let them find out."

  Pippa turned back and gave me a reluctant smile. "I want to do this for you, Rach, I really do."

  "So then, what's the problem?" Cripes, I could tell that Pippa was losing her nerve. And she had a pretty strong nerve. Was she really that scared of Bakermatic's lawyers?

  "You know me, Rach!" She sighed heavily and her shoulders slumped. "I'm always screwing everything up. I'll probably put salt in someone's coffee on my very first shift and get fired right away. Then I'll be no good to you at all! I'm going to let you down, Rach."

  "Hey." I put my hands on Pippa's shoulders. "You're not going to let me down. I have faith in you, Pips. All you gotta do is go in there, keep your head down, try not to put any salt in anyone's coffee, and we'll be good." I felt my stomach clench. It all sounded simple enough, but I knew Pippa, and nothing was ever simple with her. Still, I tried to keep my face positive.

  Pippa nodded. "You're forgetting one very important thing, though."

  "Am I?"

  "Find out what Bakermatic did to Colleen, and find the evidence to put them away."

  I nodded. "Right," I said with determination. "We're going to prove that they poisoned Colleen Batters, and maybe—just maybe—my little bakery will survive."

  * * *

  10 AM. The perfect time to relax; take a little time and have some coffee and a cupcake.

  At least, so you would think. The customers—or rather, the lack of them—at my store told a different story.

  I sighed and sat down on my stool, untying my apron and throwing it on the bench. There was only so many times I could rearrange the cake stands and wipe the benches before I went out of my mind. I glanced around. The bakery was so clean it glistened, the baby pink and white surfaces so clean you could eat off them. And behind the glass cases, there was row after row of designer donuts, exotically flavored macaroons, gourmet cakes, and homemade pies. A sign advertising the ten o'clock coffee and cake special was flying in vain.

  There wasn't a single customer in the shop.

  I shook my head and muttered to myself for a second. "I bet that cop, Detective Whitaker, leaked the details of the case. Does everyone know I was taken in for questioning?"

  Clearly. My reputation had been dashed.

  I leaned forward and tried to peer down the street. I snapped back once my fears were confirmed. There was a line out of Bakermatic ten feet long. They'd clearly mopped up all my ten o'clock customers.

  I sprung out of my seat when I heard the bell above the door jingle. "Hello there! Oh." My face dropped when I saw that it was just the mailman. He had a stack of little white envelopes for me, and I felt that clenching in my stomach again.

  The mailman scrunched up his bald head and surveyed my empty store. "I wasn't sure you were even open by the looks of it from the outside."

  "Well, we are open," I said, trying to remain bright as I ripped the top envelope open. "I couldn't interest you in one of my homemade selections, could I? How about..." I stopped and sized him up, coming up with just the perfect desert for him. "A slice of cherry pie?"

  For just a moment, a look of temptation crossed his face and I could tell he was considering it. But then his face fell and he looked at the tiled floors before muttering an awkward, "Uh, no... I, uh, better not."

  He hurried to the door.

  "Hey, wait!" I called out after him.

  He stopped, the door half pulled open. The bell above gave a sick little cough of a jingle. His back tensed and I knew he just wanted to escape before I asked him any more questions, or tried to force any more of my baked goods down his throat.

  He turned back slowly and I read the name tag on his grey shirt. Gavin.

  "Gavin," I said, still trying to remain upbeat and nonchalant, as though I was just innocently wonderin
g the following question. "Is there any particular reason you don't want to try my cherry pie?"

  He fidgeted for a second as he pretended to look at the price list. "It's just a little too expensive for me, miss."

  Like I hadn't heard that one a hundred times before. I plastered on my brightest smile. "Oh, don't worry about the price," I said, swooping my arm around my mouth-watering selection of glossy pastries. "For you, Gavin, today, a slice is on the house. As a reward for all your hard work." And all the bills you delivered to me.

  His mouth dropped open slightly and he handled the doorknob with an increasingly slippery palm. He patted his stomach. "That's generous of you, miss, but I'm real full right now. I had a big breakfast: eggs, sausages, and two pieces of toast."

  I folded my arms. "You can take it with you and eat it later."

  "Well, er, if I can eat it later," Gavin said, a look of relief flooding his face. "Then that should be fine."

  "You can eat it later, as long as you have one little bite now," I cut him off. "Will that also be fine?"

  I could see the beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Oh...ah...erm..."

  I let out a short exhale. "I thought as much. Gavin, just tell me. Just give it to me straight. Why won't you eat any of my baked goods?"

  He swallowed and I could see all the veins in his neck pop out like they were trying to escape through his skin. "No...no reason, miss. I already told you, I'm real stuffed full right now..."

  "Come on, Gavin. Cut it out."

  He let the door fall shut. "Well, it's just... I'm afraid if I eat one of your cakes..." He glanced around the tins and cabinets. "Or pies, or pastries, or donuts. Well, I'm afraid..."

  "You're afraid you might die?" I asked boldly, looking him straight in the eye.

  He sighed. "I didn't want to say anything, miss. Didn't want to hurt your feelings. I see how hard you try in this store, and I got a daughter about your age, you kinda remind me of her. So I don't like to make things harder on you than they already are."

  I felt bad all of a sudden that I hadn't even known Gavin's name 'til a few minutes earlier. I'd just always thought of him as "that man who brings me my bills" or, today, "that man who is trying to escape my clutches without telling me the truth."

  "I didn't know you had a daughter, Gavin. What does she do?"

  His face softened. "She's just finishing her medical degree. I'm real proud of her. She'll be starting her first year residency soon."

  I sighed internally. Being a doctor sounded a lot better than being a baker right now. "My father always wanted me to study medicine," I said wistfully. "Perhaps I should have taken his advice."

  I slumped against the counter.

  "Hey there," Gavin said, taking a step towards me, though still eyeing the cakes as though they were venomous creatures that might leap out and bite him. "Don't look so sad. I'm sure things will turn around."

  I raised my eyebrows. "You're too scared to even take a bite of my pie. Gavin, what are people saying about me?"

  He scratched the back of his neck. "Aw, it ain't so bad."

  "Please. Tell me."

  He looked at the floor and shrugged. "You know how people gossip. There are rumors flying around that you got taken in to the station, that they think your pie killed Colleen Batters."

  "But everyone who took part in the street fair got taken in for questioning! The cops only talked to me as a precaution. To rule me out. They said anyone could be to blame." I pointed down the road at the overflowing line out the front of Bakermatic. "Even Bakermatic got brought in for questioning. Yet people aren't scared to eat there."

  Gavin shook his head. "That's not what I heard, miss."

  I spun around to look at him. "What do you mean?"

  He shook his head. "I ain't heard that Bakermatic got brought in for questioning. In fact, their employees are telling every one that the only suspect is you. That you've been told not to leave town, and that it's only a matter of time before you’re arrested for the murder of Colleen Batters."

  My jaw dropped to the floor. Well, that explained the wasteland that my bakery had become. As if Bakermatic didn't have any problems soaking up my customer base on the best of days, undercutting my prices and stealing my ideas, now they were telling people my cake had killed Colleen?

  "Thank you for being honest with me, Gavin," I said, ushering him out the door. "If you don't mind, I have some business to attend to."

  He tried to protest for a moment. "It doesn't look like you've got much business to attend to," he said, clutching his mailbag to his chest.

  "Thanks for pointing that out." I waited until he was out the door before I turned the sign over to closed. "But it's not bakery business I've got to attend to."

  It was detective business. I dusted my hands off and locked the door as Gavin tried to peer in through the windows, confusion clouding his face. If Bakermatic was going to try and pin the blame on me, then I was going to have to dedicate all my time to proving they were really the ones who killed Colleen Batters. I leaned against the cold glass door. The nerve of them. They steal all my customers, and now they try and pin a murder charge on me!

  I pulled out my phone. Time to text Pippa.

  * * *

  It seemed like it took forever for Pippa to get back to me. Don't tell me she's actually being responsible and not taking her phone out at work for once.

  Finally, just after 11:30, she texted me back. I grabbed my phone and glanced out the window while I read it.

  Sorry Rach, so busy! First there was training and then we got slammed with a bunch of new customers. Wonder where they all came from?

  My hands sped across my phone screen in a blur.

  They came from my store Pips! There are practically tumbleweeds blowing through here. Have you heard anything yet? Is anyone talking about me or my store?

  It took ages for her reply to come through, and as I waited, a sinking feeling entered my gut, like when I was trying to ferret the information from Gavin. Her silence spoke volumes.

  Finally her reply came back.

  Not much. Just a few rumors.

  I stuck my phone back in my apron pocket. She didn't have to elaborate. Gavin was right, then. Bakermatic was telling everyone that I'd killed Colleen. I wondered if Pippa was even out there defending my honor.

  Well, it was time to stop standing around waiting. I had Pippa in there as my eyes and ears, but I needed to do more. I needed to take advantage of her new position.

  I pulled my phone back out. Pippa I need you to sneak me into the store. I need to look in their kitchen. Maybe go through their paperwork.

  What? I can't do that! I could lose my job.

  I held back from telling her that was only a matter of time, regardless of whether she did this for me or not.

  We'll be careful. I need to see the place for myself Pips. Please. The store is dying. I need to do something.

  OK. Once my shift is finished. I'm closing the store with another girl. I'll make up an excuse for why I need to hang back. I'll see you here after six. Don't come until it's dark.

  Got it Pips. See ya at six.

  * * *

  Belldale looked particularly pretty as the light began to disappear from the sky and the stars started to make their first appearance. I shivered in my red peacoat as a sudden bolt of hope radiated through me. Maybe it's going to be all right. Maybe I can sneak in, find some evidence, clear my name, and my bakery will thrive while Bakermatic goes under.

  "Psst!" I heard Pippa call. I squinted, trying to make her out in the dim light. She gestured for me to join her.

  "A bright red coat, Rach? Really?"

  I pouted a little. She was right, though. All the detectives on Criminal Point wore black or navy overcoats. You didn't see them gallivanting about, solving crimes in bright red. Still, it was dark so I didn't think it would matter too much.

  "Stay here. We have to wait for Simona to clear out." Simona was Pippa's shift manager. Pippa had been telling me
via text message that Simona was distracted due to a breakup with her boyfriend. Perfect, I'd thought. She might just let her guard down.

  "What are you going to tell her?" I whispered. It was only Pippa's first day at Bakermatic, and it was going to take a lot of trust from the company to allow her to lock up on her own on her first day, even with a heartbroken shift manager in charge.

  "I'm gonna wait till we're both done. Then, just as we're leaving, I'm gonna tell her I left my jacket inside, and ask to borrow the key." Pippa winked at me. "I've been buttering her up all day, being really sympathetic about the breakup with her boyfriend Charles, who seems like a real jerk, by the way."

  Pippa suddenly pushed me out of the way and commanded me to be quiet. Behind her, a sniffling woman in her mid-twenties with a long dark ponytail walked out. "He hasn't returned any of my messages all day!" she wailed, shoving her phone in Pippa's face.

  I pushed my back up against the wall and tried to remain flat, feeling the rough edges of the brick through my peacoat, which had been designed for fashion and not for practicality.

  Pippa murmured her sympathy as she stared at the message-less screen. "Simona, honestly, you're too good for him. You're so pretty, and smart, and a manager already at your young age!" Pippa shot me a covert wink as she grabbed Simona by the shoulders so that she was facing away from me. "You don't need him, girl."

  Simona sniffled and laughed a little. "You're right. You're so sweet, Pippa. I'm so glad you came to work here!"

  I smiled to myself in the dark. It looked like Pippa had done a good job of worming her way in. Simona turned the key in the lock and they both walked towards the parking lot opposite me, until I saw Pippa stop suddenly and begin her charade. "I'll give the key back to you in the morning, Simona," she said, voice dripping with sweetness as she patted the other woman on the back. "You don't need to wait for me."