Wined, Dined and Dead: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

by Stacey Alabaster

  We both jumped a mile when someone called out from behind us. "Pippa! Rachael!"

  We both spun around like we were on the attack. "Marcello!" Pippa cried. "What the heck are you doing here?"

  "I thought you would need some help. I'm the one who knows this place, remember?"

  Pippa's eyes were bulging out of her head. She did not seem very grateful for this so-called 'help.’ I wasn't so sure about it myself. "Where is Lolly?" she asked frantically.

  "Don't worry," Marcello said. "Your friend Tegan has offered to babysit."

  "Oh geez," Pippa said, rubbing her temples. "Okay, well, you're here now. Keep quiet, though! And don't knock anything over! We can't get caught until we find the right room."

  After creeping around lost for a few minutes, I was starting to feel grateful that Marcello had popped up. "Do you remember which room belonged to Mikey?" I whispered.

  Marcello nodded and led the way. "See, I can be useful when I am needed."

  "Yes, well, we will see about that," Pippa said, but there was a teasing tone to her voice as we all crept along. "Lead us to the right room, and I might actually believe you."

  Marcello stood up proudly as we reached a white door with a novelty 'keep out' sign stuck the front of it. "I remember it well," he said. "It's this one..." But he did look a little confused. "But can we go in if it says that we must keep out?"

  I shook my head and pushed past him. "Of course we can, it's not a legal sign, Marcello! The local council didn't put it there. He got it from a gag shop."

  "Here goes," I said, looking at Pippa with my hand raised just above the door, ready to knock. I banged so loudly against the door that I didn't even notice that Marcello, for some reason, chose that moment to abandon us and run off.

  By the time I realized he had left Pippa and I all alone to face the music, it was too late. Mikey had opened the door.

  He stood there, shirtless, with his eyebrow glinting in the early morning rays. And a smug look on his face when he saw that it was us standing there at the door.

  "Hello there, ladies!" he said. "I see you've come back, and without a baby this time." He winked at Pippa. "Couldn't resist, hey?"

  I let out a low gasp as I spotted something. There, lying on the floor behind him, was a tall, white chef's hat.

  Pippa heard my gasp. As slowly and covertly as I could, I pointed to the item that had caught my attention, lying crumpled and discarded there on the dirty carpet. For just a split second, I felt sorry for the guy. He really had no idea who we were, or why we were truly there. There's something kind of pitiful about people who don't even see their fall coming.

  "Gotcha," Pippa whispered under her breath.

  Well, maybe. We were close. But not yet.

  "We're not here to party," Pippa said in a low voice.

  Mikey looked a little confused. "But you are here to see me? Right?" He looked first at me, then back at Pippa. When neither of us smiled or offered him any kind of flattery, he became more and more confused. I think he was used to members of the fairer sex being charmed by his inane words and boyish good looks. Not this time, buddy.

  The smile completely dropped from his face. "Who are you two?" he asked. Cautious now. Guarded. He no longer wanted us to come into his room; he wanted to keep us out.

  "We are here to talk to you about one of your frat brothers," I said. I paused before I uttered the name. "Paul."

  I saw the light leave Mikey's eyes, but he tried to keep his smile as he used the doorframe to hold himself up and steady.

  "I, um, I don't know where Paul is, sorry." Mikey scratched his head as though he was really thinking about it. "He's probably sleeping in."

  "Paul doesn't usually get a chance to sleep in though, does he?" I asked. "With his heavy work and study schedule."

  Mikey shrugged. "I haven't seen him this morning. Maybe he’s at work."

  "Paul isn't at work," I said in a low voice. "Paul was killed last night while he was working."

  Mikey gulped. He was still leaning against the doorframe, but suddenly he was skittish, his eyes darting around the room and the hallway. "How-how do you two know that?"

  Pippa and I exchanged glances. No shock that Paul had died, no questions about how it had happened. Just a question about how we knew it had happened.

  "Because we were there when it happened," Pippa said. She was watching Mikey's face gleefully, waiting for his reaction. As straight as he was trying to keep his face, the strain and the fright were seeping through. His smile faded just a little. Even though he almost held his expression, the look in his eyes had totally changed. They'd gone dark.

  I stepped up. "We know that you were at Scott's restaurant last night when Paul was killed."

  Mikey scoffed a little and shook his head. The smile was still plastered to his face.

  He shrugged as casually as he could. "I was here last night, ladies. Partying."

  "We were here last night too, remember?" I said. "And we also happened to be at Scott's earlier, at the same time as you were. Looks like it's pretty easy to have spent the night in both places."

  He shrugged again. "So what?" he asked. "You can't prove that I was there. No one saw me."

  I looked at Pippa and shook my head. This guy was clearly an amateur. "So you were there?" I asked, nodding at the chef's hat on the floor. "What was the costume for? Just an easy way to catch Paul unaware?"

  "You don't know what you are talking about," Mikey growled.

  "Wasn't Paul your friend?" I asked Mikey. "Aren't you guys meant to be brothers for life?"

  "We are brothers for life," Mikey said firmly. Defensively. He was no longer the young charming frat guy. A change had some over him, a darkness that must have been the last thing Paul saw before he was killed. "That's why Paul should have known better than to steal from me. I caught him going through my wallet two nights ago. Why did he need to steal when he had that fancy job at a fancy restaurant?"

  Pippa and I looked at each other. Uh-oh. Maybe Tyson hadn't been so paranoid about the stealing after all.

  Had I completely misjudged Tyson McCall? The thought of apologizing to him made my stomach turn.

  I turned back to Mikey. "Being a waiter at a restaurant is not a 'fancy' job," I said. "It's barely scraping by. But you probably have no idea what it’s like to even have a job. I'm sure your parents pay for your place here, and your cost of living."

  "That doesn't give him the right to steal my money! Even if my parents gave it to me! Paul owed me!" Mikey shouted.

  "So what did you do?" I asked. "Follow him to work, wait till he got a minute alone to threaten him?" I still didn't totally understand what Mikey's plan had been. "Why didn't you just threaten him here? In private?"

  Mikey shook his head and rolled his eyes at me. "I followed Paul to work because he kept promising to pay me back but said he couldn't until he picked up his paycheck. I went with him to make sure I got it as soon as he did. That cash was mine."

  So he was just going to rip the paycheck straight from the poor guy's fingers?

  "But of course, I got there and there's more excuses. Next he tells me I'll have to wait till the end of the night till he gets his tips." Mikey was fuming as he told the story. "Where was I even supposed to go for the rest of the night while I waited? I went around the corner to a costume shop and bought the hat. Thought I'd have a bit of fun with him."

  "That's why you were so mad when you saw he gave away a free bottle of wine," I murmured. "Because you thought it would come out of his tips, and you wanted that money for yourself."

  I could see the look in his eyes. He was going to run. I don't know if it was stupid or not, but I stepped in front of the doorway and blocked it so that he'd have to get through me if he tried to escape.

  "We did that dumb kid a favor, letting him into this fraternity, even though he had no money and no family connections." Mikey pointed his thumb at his own chest. "I stuck my neck out for him more than anyone, sticking up for him when no o
ne else did, getting him a fake ID when he got fired from his last job." Mikey let out a long, bitter laugh. "Fired for stealing, of course."

  It was just Pippa and I blocking the exit. I knew that at any second, Mikey was going to get tired of playing this game, tired of having two women interrogating him, and he would push past us. Or worse.

  Where the heck had Marcello gone? Right when we needed him the most.

  "Paul was struggling to survive," I said. "Maybe he did desperate things but only because he was trying to keep up, trying to fit in with this lifestyle you have." I took a step closer towards Mikey. "That doesn't mean he deserved to be killed."

  Pippa and I had become a brick wall between us. But we were so busy blocking the door that neither of us stopped to consider he might go the other way.

  Pippa spotted the open window behind him first and realized what Mikey was about to do. She ran for it, but Mikey was too quick, an athlete, and he raced past her, almost knocking her down.

  "You can't get away that easy!" Pippa screamed, grabbing onto the ankle of his jeans, trying to drag him away from the window.

  But he was already gone, out the window and down the railing, jumping to the grass below. He was young and fit and managed to pick himself quickly. Then he fled.

  "Oh gosh," Pippa said, looking down over the railing at the lawn two stories below.

  "It's not that far," I said, climbing over the ledge. I took my heels off first and threw them over. "We've got to jump, Pippa! Or there's no chance we'll ever catch him."

  Mikey was already becoming smaller and smaller as he sprinted across the quad, back towards the tennis courts and the science facility. He'd be lost in a sea of students if we didn't act fast. Without thinking about it, I climbed out the window and down a trellis.

  Pippa closed her eyes and followed me.

  My ankle gave out when I hit the ground and I winced and jumped up, telling myself I could complain about the pain later. With my heels in hand, I began to run.

  "How long have we got?" I was breathless as we jogged along and had to stop when I got a stitch and the pain became unbearable. Pippa and I were always talking about joining a gym and getting into shape, but we never actually did it.

  As bakers, we didn't really have to be in top shape. But as investigators, it occasionally screwed us up when our suspects get away.

  "Come on," I said, waving her along, breathless. "We have to keep going."

  But we were no match for Mikey with his head start and athlete-level fitness. He was a dot ahead of us. About to disappear completely into the crowd.

  "It's too late," I said, coming to a complete stop. I was doubled over, too out of breath to even talk, let alone keep running. "We've missed the deadline. And Mikey has gotten away." I closed my eyes and shook my head. It was over.

  "What the..." Pippa murmured. She suddenly shook me violently till I came back to life. "Rachael, look!"

  I stood up straight and shielded my eyes, trying to focus on what she was pointing to. "What the heck?" I asked. "Who was that that just jumped out from behind the bush and flattened Mikey to the ground?"

  "It's Marcello!" Pippa said, jumping up and down excitedly. "He's done it, Rachael! He's caught Mikey!"

  I shook my head in disbelief as I let out a long sigh and then a happy, relieved, but very loud laugh.

  "Looks like that husband of yours might just turn out to be a genius after all, Pippa."

  Who would have thought it?

  Back in the station parking lot, a familiar face greeted me while I sat, exhausted, on the curb. I'd been worried that if I stayed in the car, I would fall asleep. But even the curb looked like an inviting bed at that point.

  Jackson shook his head at me as he walked over. He was trying to keep his face straight, I could tell, but there was a smile fighting to get out.

  "Well done, Rachael," he said. "Seems like your tight time frame worked out after all."

  He reached down and offered me a hand, helping me back to my feet.

  "See?" I said with a tired grin. "There's nothing wrong with solving a murder quickly."

  "In some cases," was all he would concede. I could tell I wasn't going to get much more praise than that.

  "Maybe I should give you some pointers sometime," I said. "But right now I have somewhere I really need to be."

  "Bed?" Jackson asked.

  I shook my head wearily. "I'm afraid not yet. There's someone I've got to see."

  "Oh, right." Jackson cleared his throat. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Rachael," he said, before turning to leave.

  Scott shocked me by embracing me in a giant hug, even picking me up off the ground for a second. As he spun me, I noticed that someone had cleaned up the broken glass and smashed china.

  "Thank you, Rachael."

  Pippa cleared her throat.

  "And you as well, Pippa," he said. "How can I repay you?"

  Pippa and I looked at each other. "Um, you are still paying us the money, right?" I asked.

  "Well, y—"

  Pippa spoke up before Scott had a chance to answer fully. "Actually, I have a request. Instead of my half, I was wondering if you might consider giving my husband a chance at a job here?" She pushed Marcello forward. "He knows how to make a great coffee. And you need a new waiter."

  Scott only took a few seconds to chew this over. "Your wish is my command!" he said, clapping his hands together.

  Oh boy. He doesn’t know what he has gotten himself into.

  I looked around at the empty restaurant. "So, looks like you are not opening for lunch after all?" I said.

  Scott shook his head, but he didn't look too distressed. "Turns out it’s still a crime scene for a little while." He made an apologetic face at me. "So I am afraid I won’t be able to pay you that money after all. I hope you understand, Rachael."

  What could I say? I wasn’t surprised. Not one little bit. But that didn't mean I was happy about it.

  "I’m so happy that you cleared this whole thing up, though. And kept the news from breaking early. And I’m thankful that none of my employees were involved in this. Thank you, Rachael. How can I repay you instead?"

  I just shook my head. "You know what, it's really okay."

  Scott beamed at us. "How about dinner here for all of you, on the house, as soon as we re-open next week? To make up for last night. I am throwing a belated Valentine's Day to make it up to all my customers."

  "So?" Marcello said, looking around at the rest of us. "How about we finally have that double date then?"

  "Sure," I said with a low laugh. "But I am taking a very long nap first."

  Epilogue

  "This is the best table in the house," Scott explained as he poured the wine into our glasses. "It's usually reserved for VIPs."

  "Like Tyson McCall?" I asked, raising my glass.

  "Where has Tyson McCall gone to, anyway?" Pippa asked.

  "Apparently, he's taking a bit of a break from the studio," I replied. "He wants to lay low for a while after all the controversy. Justin texted me that he has taken a long personal leave and headed up the coast."

  "Shall I just leave the remainder of the wine on the table for you?" Scott asked helpfully.

  Pippa, Kenneth, and I all turned sharply, at the same time, to look at Marcello. He had yet to start his trial at Scott's, and none of us wanted Scott to see his handiwork up close before he was officially hired. If the only payment we were going to get was Marcello's gainful employment, I didn’t want to screw that up.

  "Maybe I'll take it back to the bar with me," Scott said with a quick nod. "Just call out when you want a refill."

  "I think that would be for the best." Kenneth raised his glass and winked at the rest of us.

  "Cheers," Marcello said as we all clinked our glasses together. "Happy Valentine's Day, everyone."

  We all laughed and wished him one back. It was a week late, but it was sweet all the same, to be sitting at the table with all the people in the world who meant the most t
o me.

  Well, just about all of the people who meant the most to me.

  My phone buzzed in my purse. I wondered who it could be that late at night, considering that the four main people in my life were already there with me at the same table. And something, I don't know what it was, call it a hunch or intuition, made me secretly lean down and check it in the middle of dinner.

  It was Jackson. Happy Belated Valentine's Day, Rachael.

  Thanks for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

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  Preview: A Pie to Die For

  "But you don't understand, I use only the finest, organic ingredients." My voice was high-pitched as I pleaded my case to the policeman. Oh, this was just like an episode of Criminal Point. Hey, I wondered who the killer turned out to be. I shook my head. That's not important, Rachael, I scolded myself. What's important is getting yourself off this murder charge. Still, I hoped Pippa had recorded the ending of the episode.