Bake Off

by S. Y. Robins

  Milly’s eyes widened as the operator answered and she almost forgot to reply to the woman that answered as she wondered who would have wanted to kill Davina.

  “Police please,” she said, almost as an afterthought as Callum stood across the counter, running his hands through his hair over and over again. She noted a tear in the back of the dark-green jumper he wore and a long scratch down the left side of his neck.

  * * *

  Milly took the phone with her as she gave a running commentary to the operator and followed Callum back to the shop to wait for the emergency responders. She turned the small radio off behind the counter after walking in. The song about a sexy woman and miracles just seemed inappropriate to Milly as she observed the destruction in the tiny corner shop. Her mouth hung open as she took it all in, disbelief warring with what she saw before her.

  The shelves had all been emptied, their contents strewn around the floor. Small muddy footprints were visible throughout the shop with several in one area overlapping and smearing into each other. As she looked around the floor she spied Edgar walking in through the open back door and tried to shoo him out but he looked around, walked over to the footprints, and circled around them for a moment before pouncing on the broken pieces of one of Milly’s shop tea mugs. Milly bent down to note that there was a lipstick print in the shade Davina always wore, on the rim of one side of a piece of the mug.

  Edgar then made another move, this time bounding to the top of the counter, sniffing one spot on a corner. Looking closer, Milly saw that there was evidence there, evidence someone had hit their head extremely hard in that spot. Taking it all in, she stood back as the police arrived and started looking around. Milly knew the woman she’d spent the last few years sharing a mug of tea with every evening wasn’t going to be coming over ever again. Someone had murdered Davina Thompson.

  “Mr. Davidson, we’ve noted the safe is open, can you tell us if anything is missing or was it left open at night?” One detective asked Callum.

  Callum jumped when the officer spoke, he’d been staring at the hair left on the edge of the corner in horror and disgust with Milly and hadn’t been paying attention to them.

  “The safe? Oh, there should be money in it. The money for the till this morning, at least. If it’s empty it’s been stolen.” Callum replied, unable to keep from staring at the evidence on the counter. “Are you going to have a look at this?”

  “What’s that, sir?” The detective asked, looking in the direction Callum was pointing to. “Oh, someone will come along and bag it soon enough. Seems someone had a fall recently. Could have been anyone I guess.” The round man said as he walked by, looking at the cameras spread around the shop. “Do these work at all?”

  “No, Davina kept insisting she was going to have them repaired but never did. She wouldn’t update or replace anything in here but…” Callum’s words trailed off as the officer looked at Callum with suspicion.

  “How long have you worked here, sir?” The man asked, his female partner looking up at his tone and walking over with a notepad out. She took down notes as Callum spoke.

  “About two years, I suppose. I came to work here just after Milly opened her shop. Why?” Callum asked, a hint of nervousness causing his voice to shake.

  “We’ll ask the questions, thank you, sir. Would you mind coming down to the station with us? We’d like to ask you a few more questions, please.” The female detective asked with a snarky tone. Milly glared at her and pulled Edgar tightly to her ample chest but said nothing as they led Callum out of the shop. Milly stared after them, again noting the tear in his jumper and remembering the scratch on his neck. Oh dear.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Milly learned that Callum was suspect number one. Other villagers had been questioned, and it was noted that Callum had often grumbled about Davina because she wouldn’t update the store to more efficient machinery, and she wouldn’t allow him to make changes of any kind. That combined with opportunity, the scratches on his neck, and the tear in his jumper, seemed to be all the police needed to list Callum as suspect number one. They weren’t even sure yet that Davina was dead and already they were accusing Callum!

  Milly had different ideas and she suspected Davina was dead but not that Callum was the killer. No, she had two different suspects; she just didn’t know how to prove either case. Davina had a long-term boyfriend, Jimmie Eckols, that she thought was the prime suspect. Milly knew the man had a nasty temper and Davina’s recent revelation that she was seeing another man made Milly wonder if Jimmie had found out and gone made with jealousy. Davina wouldn’t tell Milly the new man’s name or where he was from; just that he lived in another village, and Davina was thinking of breaking it off with Jimmie because she’d grown tired of him. Perhaps the other man had grown tired of waiting and become angry with Davina? But what would either one have been doing in the shop with Davina so early in the morning, Milly wondered. And why take the money? Momentary impulse or a plan to throw off the police later?

  Milly pondered the case all day, often messing up orders because she was so preoccupied. She told herself to stop being such a ditz, this was her business she was jeopardizing, but she just couldn’t stay focused. The thought of Callum being questioned, or worse, locked away in a jail cell made her heart squeeze so tight it actually hurt. Placing a hand over her heart she tried to smile as Mrs. Anderson from up the hill came into the shop with news.

  “Callum’s been released, Milly. He’ll be fine. Apparently the scratches and the tear were from an argument he had with Maria last night. He broke it off and she didn’t take kindly to it. It’s about time, if you ask me, that girl was nothing but trouble for him. Callum’s far too lovely a lad to be messing about with a strumpet like that. The girl can barely keep her knickers covered most of the time!” Mrs. Anderson spoke with a combination of disgust and happiness that Callum had finally grown tired of Maria’s antics.

  Milly couldn’t hold back a smile of her own but hoped that Mrs. Anderson would take it as happiness that Callum was out of jail, not that he’d broken it off with Maria. Milly put a hand to her throat, hoping it hid how her pulse jumped with excitement, and offered Mrs. Anderson a cup of tea. The older lady had two grown sons that lived with her and often came down in the afternoons to chat with Milly. Milly wondered what Mrs. Anderson would think of her if she could see the naughty cream cakes she had waiting in the kitchen, and had to smother a snort as Mrs. Anderson walked over to point out the cake she wanted with her tea.

  “Thank you for letting me know, Mrs. Anderson, here’s your tea and cake. I’m so relieved Callum has been released. But who are they looking at now?” She wondered aloud.

  “That Jimmie Eckols, no doubt. The man’s an absolute menace. I told Davina she needed to get rid of him but she wouldn’t listen. Now he’s done her in and no doubt he’ll get away with it.” Mrs. Anderson said with a stern shake of her head before taking a sip of her tea.

  Milly had to agree and hoped she’d see Callum before the day finished, but she somehow doubted she would. She couldn’t help but smile again though, at the thought of Callum being free, in more ways than one, finally.

  2

  Milly walked along the hills behind her home, enjoying the way the wind tugged her loose hair around her head when she made it to the top. She thought she must look like a ghostly witch when she was up here like this, and giggled at the thought of someone seeing her. For the last week now, she’d been letting Davina’s two tiny terriers have a run before she started her own day. She’d taken the dogs in when none of the other villagers wanted to take on the task and though Edgar wasn’t happy about it, she enjoyed the many walks she’d had to take the dogs on to keep them happy. She’d have to find somewhere else for the two excitable dogs however; Edgar was showing his unhappiness in some rather distasteful ways.

  Watching the dogs ramble and play ahead of her, Milly knew in her heart that Davina had to be dead. She’d never run off and leave her dogs
for this long. No body had been found yet, but Milly expected there would be sooner or later. The woman simply loved her dogs far too much to abandon them like this. Milly smiled sadly as she remembered how Davina had held birthday parties for each of the dogs over the last three years, inviting guests and expecting them to bring presents for little Daisy and Mildred. Davina even decorated her house for the parties with streamers and balloons! No, she’d have never abandoned her precious companions like that, Milly was certain Davina wasn’t in the land of the living anymore.

  Heading back to the shop when the dogs finally began to show signs of being tired; their idea of a sign being to flop down on Milly’s feet until she turned around, Milly looked around, hoping but dreading a sign that Davina may have been left somewhere on the hills. Milly did not want to be the one who found Davina but knew she might be. She kept her mobile with her, just in case. Lifting a foot and gently nudging Daisy away, Milly headed back to the village and her shop, hoping the sun held out and kept the fog at bay for the day.

  * * *

  The chime over the shop door sang out, and Milly stepped out of the kitchen and onto the shop floor to see to whoever had come in. She slowed down as she saw it was the detectives, and that they were standing behind her counter, pilfering through her paperwork back there. Anger surged through her and she may have spoken more harshly than she meant to when she finally calmed down enough to speak.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Get out from there, at once!” She may have also shooed them out and glared at them. Maybe.

  “We’re just looking over your diary. Where were you the night Davina disappeared?” The female detective asked.

  “I was here, as usual. The shop is open six days a week. Then I go upstairs, have my tea, and prepare for the next day.” Milly spoke shortly, not wanting to leave any room for doubt.

  “Then why did we find your tea mug in the shop?” The woman asked, as if she was going to shock Milly with the question.

  Milly looked down her nose at the woman, though the woman was taller than she, and said, “Likely because Davina was always pilfering my mugs. Once a month or so I’d have to go over and collect them from her and bring them back. She always swore she’d bring the mugs back herself but she never did. I eventually stopped asking and would just go over and get them when my stock of mugs started to run low.”

  “Oh,” the woman said and seemed to deflate. Then she perked back up again. “So that means you had access to the store?”

  “No, not at all. I’d go over when Davina was in, never after hours.” Again, Milly’s responses were short and quick. The odious little woman wasn’t going to get the best of her!

  “Right then. Well, do you know where we can find Jimmie Eckols by any chance? We’ve not been able to locate him.” The male detective asked Milly, with a kind smile and less attitude than the woman was giving. Milly glared at the woman, thinking that the cow must be out to prove something but Milly wasn’t going to be her proving grounds today.

  “I expect you’ll find him where you find most men from the village in the evenings, down the pub. Look there. Now, if you have no other questions, I expect I’ll be having customers soon and I need to replenish my stock. Good day.” Milly held her hand out, inviting the detectives to leave with a tight smile. She’d done nothing wrong, but the woman had rubbed her wrong from the start of it and her response was to be less than helpful. The female detective should learn from that.

  Two hours later, Mrs. Locke came in with her two young sons to treat them to some of Milly’s iced buns and a cup of chocolate. Milly served them their order then went back to the table she’d been occupying, going over her accounts while it was quiet. She knew if she sat there long enough quietly, that Mrs. Locke would fill the silence as the boys ate quietly. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Have you heard about Jimmie Eckols then?” The woman asked, a tone of secrecy in her voice.

  Milly looked up from her work with a smile, pleased that she’d been right. “No, I haven’t, what’s happened to him then?”

  “He’s been nicked! They think he did Davina in!” The other woman replied in a loud whisper, talking away from her sons, as if that would keep them from hearing her words.

  “No! Why would they think that?” Milly asked leadingly. She might know all of the gossip in town but she never actually spread any of it. She simply waited and listened, people usually told her one way or another.

  “Well, apparently Davina had another bloke on the side, didn’t tell anyone like. There was talk up the pub that Jimmie said he was going to make Davina pay when he found out about it. She disappeared the next day.” The expression on Mrs. Locke’s face told Milly she was supposed to take this to mean that it was a fact Jimmie had killed Davina.

  Milly thought Mrs. Locke could very well be right, but something she’d spotted at the shop kept plaguing her. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was, no matter how often she went over the scene in her mind. Milly was still pondering it when Mrs. Locke’s friend Mrs. Chesterfield came in.

  “Have you heard the news?” Mrs. Chesterfield asked as she came rushing in to sit in the chair opposite Mrs. Locke.

  “Yes, Jimmy Eckols has been arrested.” Mrs. Locke said with a grim face.

  “No! Well, yes, but there’s more! It wasn’t him, wasn’t him at all! He told the police that yes, he’d made those threats and that he had gone home totally bladdered, but he went straight home. He didn’t see Davina at all that night or the next day. Seems she did indeed break it off with him but he didn’t kill her for it.” Mrs. Chesterfield told her friend rather smugly, pleased she’d had information Mrs. Locke hadn’t.

  “How did he prove that then?” Mrs. Locke asked, a bit miffed she hadn’t gotten the information first.

  “Well, my Larry, who works over at the cop shop you know, heard they’d released him when they found his security camera footage. He got sick of those hoodies breaking his windows and stealing his post; you remember when they started that last summer? Well, Jimmie got sick of that and put a stop to it when he put those cameras up. He’s been running them every night since, and they recorded him going in but not coming out until late the next morning, well after Callum had Milly phone emergency services.” Mrs. Chesterfield said, preening as if she’d solved the case.

  Milly tried to control the urge to roll her eyes and listened quietly, head down in her accounts, even pretending to write a few things as she listened. Hmmm, the new boyfriend then, she thought to herself. But who was he? She wondered. Milly had no idea who the other boyfriend could possibly be. She’d gone through the list of men she knew Davina knew and couldn’t come up with one Davina would have wasted any time on. Then there was that question forming at the back of her mind, what had she forgotten?

  3

  Two weeks later and Milly was no closer to remembering, or to finding out who had killed Davina. Milly made herself step back from it all finally because she was getting too worked up about the situation. Davina had been a good friend, someone to have a chat and a laugh with, but she hadn’t known all of the woman’s secrets. The fact that the murder had happened next door to Milly’s shop and home plagued her and did not help her to sleep at night either. She was becoming far too wrapped up in the event, however, and it was starting to impact the shop. She’d put four rather obscenely decorated cream cakes out this morning, all in a row, and the vicar had glared at her sternly before storming out of the shop. Her morning routine had not stopped, but her careful inspection of the cakes was becoming faulty. She had to step back and take a break from the case.

  The shop was closed on Sundays and she’d planned to spend this one combing the hills, seeing if she could find Davina’s remains. Alright, it wasn’t really taking a step back but it was getting her out of the shop and her apartment, at least, and getting her exercise and fresh air. That’s all she needed, a momentary break with the dogs and Edgar.

  Looking over at the black cat as she put her bo
ots on, she saw Edgar perk up and run towards the dogs. Edgar had grown used to the dogs, under protest, and had slowly come to enjoy going out to walk with them. Milly wasn’t sure if Edgar had noted their excitement when she put her boots on and copied it for attention or if he’d simply figured out going for walks was nice, but she was now often seen with two dogs and a cat trailing along behind her. Everyone in the village that saw the spectacle thought it was an endearing sight and they’d watch as Milly walked by, head in the air, pudgy little arms pumping, with two dogs and a black cat, all with tails up, following along behind her happily. Some of the villagers even noticed that Milly wasn’t as pudgy as she used to be, so maybe the dogs and the exercise wasn’t so bad for her. They all secretly decided amongst themselves that she needed to keep the dogs; they were doing her some good.

  Milly had always been a quiet person and shy around men. She never gossiped, they noted, but she always seemed to know what was going on. She kept a pleasant shop, caused no problems, and was never out of line. None of them had ever seen her take a drink, though she’d never spoken out about alcohol, so they assumed if she drank she did it secretly. She could be seen at functions and at pubs so that wasn’t the problem either, they supposed. No, Milly wasn’t a stodgy person; she just seemed to have something lacking in the younger generations now, a self-respect and sense of purpose that so many were missing now. Milly gained a lot of respect for that from the older villagers, even if it meant the younger ones called her an old maid because she still had never had a boyfriend. Some of the younger ones even whispered she might like her own kind more than the male kind, but nobody knew for sure. Milly was far too private and talk usually didn’t last long anyway. Milly was respected in her community and that was usually enough to put a stop to most talk.