Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Boxed Set (Books 1 - 3)

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Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Boxed Set (Books 1 - 3) Page 10

by Stacey Alabaster


  "A body?" My heart froze and I could feel a hard lump in my throat.

  Not again.

  "Like...a dead body?" I whispered.

  I saw the look on Jackson's face. Okay, dumb question. But I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I leaned over and grabbed onto the police tape, which did little to steady me and I almost ended up face first on the concrete.

  "Whoa there," Jackson said, reaching out for me. A few people in the crowd tittered amongst each other at the sight of my almost fainting.

  "Come with me," Jackson said, leading me to the back of a police van. I could feel everyone's eyes on me and I was vaguely aware that this made me look like I was guilty, but my legs were so unsteady and my head was swimming so fast that I didn't care. I just needed to sit down.

  Jackson wrapped a blanket around me and offered me a Styrofoam cup filled with water. I took it with shaking hands and tried to take a sip.

  "I'm sorry. I'm so embarrassed..." I said once the ringing in my ears had stopped. "I don't even know what came over me. I'm just...shocked. That's all."

  Jackson shot me a small smile and a sympathetic look. "Seems like a lot of this sort of thing is happening around here lately."

  I stopped sipping my water. "A lot of what, exactly?" I asked cautiously.

  Jackson shrugged. "Murder."

  My heart clenched up again. "Murder?" I whispered. "So that body you found...it wasn't an accident?"

  I saw a look of dismay take over Jackson's face and a faint blush crept up his cheeks. "I...I shouldn't have said that." He coughed. "The details are not clear yet. We're still investigating."

  "But you think it's a murder."

  "Rach, I didn't..."

  "Detective Whitaker," a stern female voice called out. "We need you back inside."

  Jackson shot me an apologetic look and promised to check on me later. He made me promise to wait there a while and rest. But as soon as he was out of eyeshot, I stood up and threw my cup in the trash.

  "Pippa," I called out breathlessly, running back to where she still stood, seemingly frozen in shock. "Pippa, someone was murdered in the antiques shop."

  She turned to me slowly. "Now are you going to believe me, Rachael?"

  "Believe you about what?" It took a moment or two for me to figure out what she was going on about. "Pippa, you have to be kidding me..."

  Her voice was low and foreboding. "I told you, Rach. The children in the painting. They won't let their home be taken from them."

  I placed my hands on my hips. "So what are you saying, Pippa? That the children in the painting have killed someone? Seriously, just think for a second about how ridiculous that sounds..."

  Pippa gave me a long, low look. "I've already warned you twice, Rachael. First the storm, then the hook coming off the wall--on the side of the bakery that is next door to the antiques shop even!"

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Then the blackout that was confined to our building."

  I shifted from one foot to the other. Now that one was a little harder to explain away. We'd checked the fuse box and it had been fine. And no other buildings on the street had been affected. The lights had mysteriously come back on three hours later, but by then, we'd already lost all our preparation time for the following day, costing me a great deal of time and money. Still, there had to be a logical explanation.

  Didn't there?

  Pippa was still standing with her hands on her hips.

  "Now the twins are sending you an even more serious warning. Are you really going to buy that shop, Rachael? Are you really going to work in there? Run your business from that place?"

  I stared up ahead as a stretcher with a body bag lying on top was pushed from the shop into a waiting ambulance.

  I gulped and reached into my pocket to feel the contract still waiting to be handed over.

  If I was still going to buy the shop, I was going to have to figure out who killed that young man.

  Pippa was still staring at the shop. She was so blue and pale that she was practically translucent. Her eyes were glazed over, but there was a distinct look of fear frozen inside them.

  And I realized: more than anything else, I was going to have to prove that the killer was human.

  Chapter 4

  It was 1:00 A.M. I'd been out on the back of the street at this time before, but that was only once when I had a mountain of pastries to bake and no staff to help me.

  "Actually, after we finish this snooping around, I will probably have to start work," I grumbled. "On zero sleep. You thought Romeo was bad today. I'm going to be a match for him." I paused. "You haven't heard from him by any chance, have you?"

  Pippa shook her head. As she spoke, the chill in the air caused her words to steam in front of her. "I'll find an even better baker for you, Rach, I promise. I'll make it up to you."

  "Don't worry about that now," I said gently. "Let's just concentrate on what we're doing here."

  Pippa shocked me when, instead of heading towards the back entrance of the antiques shop, she started walking around the front.

  "Where are you going?" I called out in a shout that I tried to keep to a whisper.

  She stopped for a moment. "The back is deadbolted, I can't pick that. The front is just a regular lock."

  I ran after her. The streetlights at the front of the shop suddenly cast a sobering light on what we were doing.

  "We really shouldn't be going inside," I said, glancing at the yellow tape that still surrounded the antiques shop. "We could be arrested for tampering with a crime scene."

  "It was your idea." Pippa pushed past me and began to search around with a flashlight.

  I pushed the flashlight down and told her to keep quiet. "Someone will see us."

  "Well, how are we supposed to see?" Pippa shivered. "I'm not going inside that place without any light."

  "Fine."

  We crept up to the door and Pippa took a pin out of her hair. I'd heard the rumors about her prowess with lock-picking, but I'd never actually seen her skills first hand.

  "Keep a look out, Rach." She didn't need to tell me twice. Last thing I wanted was to get arrested for breaking and entering. Detective Whitaker would put me at the top of his suspects list for the guy’s murder.

  I told myself that we weren't there to cause any damage, or to even touch anything. We were there to help solve a crime. That helped ease my guilty conscious a little bit.

  "What would I do without you, Pips?" I had to admire the way she'd picked the lock like a skilled pro. Although, as I stepped over the threshold and glanced at the popped lock, I couldn't help but think about the fact that I would have had the keys by now, if the slight problem of the murder hadn't taken place.

  Pippa was stalking ahead with a confidence that surprised me. After all her stories, I'd been expecting her to cower behind me. "Wait up," I called, as she had the flashlight and it was difficult for me to see three paces behind her.

  I coughed as soon as the heavy dust hit my nostrils and settled there. "I'm gonna have to give this place a good scrubbing before I actually serve food here."

  "You're going to have to give it more than a good scrubbing," Pippa muttered. "I'm thinking more like an exorcism."

  She shone the flashlight on item after item. Old paintings, vases, statues, trunks, furniture and more flickered into view before going dark again.

  "I've never actually been inside this place before. There's so much junk." I moved around carefully, trying not to knock any of the tall vases lest they smash and give us away to anyone still awake and nearby. "I wonder where Gus is going to store all this stuff once he goes out of business."

  "Probably in the garbage," Pippa said, then she stopped. She had the flashlight trained on...it.

  "I can't believe this is still in here," Pippa whispered as she stared at the old fashioned painting. The twin boy and girl depicted in it, both around three years of age, stared eerily back at her.

  "Well, where did you think it would be? T
aken down to the station for questioning?" My joke was an attempt at easing the fear emanating from her, but Pippa just stared back at the painting, the flashlight trembling in her hand.

  "What, Pippa? What is it?"

  "Rachael, it's...it's moving..."

  I stared straight into the eyes of the girl and boy depicted in the picture, almost expecting their eyes to be moving, for the picture to come to life.

  Pippa really was getting to me. I shook my head and closed my eyes. "Pippa, paintings can't move."

  She looked at me like I was crazy. Then I saw what she meant. It wasn't the figures in the painting that were moving (okay, I have to admit that was a little insane) but the entire frame. It was shaking and moving from side to side.

  Despite my better senses, I screamed and almost pushed Pippa over in my rush to get out of the shop. Still shrieking, I pulled frantically on the door, screaming for it to open before Pippa came up behind me and pointed out that I needed to push it.

  We both spilled out onto the street, doubled over as we struggled to catch our breaths. I felt like there were razor blades in my lungs. And like my heart had been electrocuted.

  "What the heck was that?" I finally asked. I could hear the trembling in my voice. I looked down to see that my hands were shaking. "Why the heck was it moving?"

  I looked over at Pippa and noticed that she was empty handed. "Pippa! You dropped the flashlight in there!"

  Pippa was shaking even harder than I was. "So?" she asked. "Let's scooch! We need to get away from this place before whatever is in there gets us." She was like a wild animal, up on her hind legs ready to flee.

  I steadied my breathing. One of us had to keep our cool. "I agree that we need to get away from this place, but we can’t leave the flashlight in there. Someone will figure out it’s ours. "

  Pippa shook her head frantically. "There's no way they'll know it belonged to us."

  "Your fingerprints are all over it, Pippa."

  "I don't care."

  "We need to go back in there and get it."

  Pippa just stared at me and backed away from the door. "Well, you'll have to go back in on your own."

  "Pippa..."

  I stared inside the shop in dismay. Total blackness. The thought of stepping back in there, with that thing moving around sent shivers up my spine.

  "Well?" Pippa said. Even with the fear present in her voice, I could hear the tone of triumph shining through. "Are you really going back in there alone, Rach?"

  I slowly turned back to her, shaking my head. "No."

  I didn't get much sleep that night. And it wasn't just due to the fact I had to be up at 5:00 A.M. thanks to Romeo's sudden disappearance. Every time I shut my eyes, all I could see was that painting, rocking back and forth, taunting me. Heck, maybe those painted eyes really were moving!

  "Hey," Pippa called out as I shuffled into the kitchen. I jumped a mile.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Pippa dug a spoon into her bowl of cereal while she sat at the bench.

  I tried to play off my nerves. "I'm just startled to see you up this early, that's all. You usually don't rise until well past midday if you can help it."

  "I couldn't sleep either," she replied softly.

  "Who says I didn't sleep?" I didn't know why I was so intent on proving to Pippa that I wasn't rattled. I just didn't want to admit that what happened the night before had actually happened. But there was no explanation for it. And that made me uncomfortable for more than one reason.

  Pippa gave me a long, slow look before she jumped up to rinse her bowl. "Well, I've got a plan," she announced. I popped a slice of bread in the toaster and waited. "I'm going to call an emergency meeting of the Belldale Paranormal Society."

  "That's your plan?"

  "Rachael, they’ll know what's going on. They'll have answers."

  I rolled my eyes. "Pippa, I really think you ought to stop hanging around with the people in that club. They are seriously messing with your mind, and now the craziness is rubbing off on other people." I reached for a carton of juice and slammed the refrigerator shut. The only reason I'd been freaked out so much the night before was because of Pippa's outlandish claims.

  Pippa pouted. "So you think I've gone crazy?"

  I looked at Pippa with her frizzy blue hair sticking out at crazy angles. I'd always thought she was a little crazy. But in a good way.

  I smiled at her. "What do you mean 'gone crazy’? I think you’re already there."

  She gave me a playful push, then turned somber. "I know some of their ideas are a little wacky when you hear them for the first time, but if you'd just come along for a meeting..."

  "Pippa, there's no way I'm coming to a meeting."

  She looked hurt. "Why not?"

  I didn't know. A hundred reasons. Too busy running a successful business, too concerned with logic...

  Pippa tilted her head to the side when I didn't immediately answer. "Are you scared?" Her tone was teasing. And I wasn't about to fall for that tactic.

  I sighed. "No, I'm not scared."

  "Because some of them are witches," Pippa said with a bit of awe in her voice. I was glad my head was facing towards the refrigerator, as she would have taken even further offense if she could see the face I made. "But don't worry, if I say that you're with me, they won't do any harm to you."

  That was the last worry I had. My primary worry was that I would lose my respected reputation if I was seen entering or exiting a meeting of the Belldale Paranormal Society.

  "Please, Rach, at least think about it."

  I was about to tell her that there was no way I was even going to think about it when we both heard something crash in the hallway. We jumped like startled cats and I could feel all my hair on edge as I crept into the hall to see what had made that insanely loud noise.

  It was still dark outside and the hallway was black. I fumbled until I found the light switch and gasped when I stepped back and banged into Pippa.

  "Sorry," she whispered.

  Suddenly there was light and the whole thing didn't seem quite so scary, but then I saw what the noise was. There was a picture frame lying in the middle of the hall, smashed into a thousand different bits, with glass scattered everywhere.

  My first thought was, how in the heck am I going to have time to clean all that up before I start work?

  But Pippa was trembling as she approached it. "Rach... Look what this is a picture of..."

  I had to follow her to see what she was talking about. My walls are lined with dozens of random photos and paintings. If you'd asked me before then to tell you what artwork was in a specific part of the house, I wouldn't be able to tell you. "What is it a picture of?"

  Pippa seemed to know my own decor better than I did. She pointed at the smashed frame to the corner of the picture. At first glance, the picture was nothing more than a landscape, an oil color of an old fashioned scene, a golden field with an old house in the background and a bridge in the front of the house.

  But in the corner... In the corner, so tiny you could hardly see them, were two tiny little children.

  They looked about four years old. They looked like twins.

  I looked at Pippa. Maybe a meeting of the Belldale Paranormal Society wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

  Chapter 5

  Knock, knock.

  A girl—woman—possibly in her late teens or early twenties stood there. She had long dyed purplish-red hair and pale porcelain skin. She was wearing a cape that made her look like Red Riding Hood, except that she was dressed in black.

  "Is Pippa here?" she said in a tone so quiet I had to lean forward to be able to hear her.

  I suddenly knew who she was. Or, at least, where she was from. The Belldale Paranormal club.

  I shook my head. "She's at work." Pippa was covering for me because I was feeling quite ill with a headache and fever. Three days had passed since the incident with the painting in the hallway and—so far—nothing else unusual had happened
.

  Of course, Pippa was blaming my illness on the so-called 'curse.' Another sign that the twins would do anything to keep me from buying the antiques shop.

  But I had another reason for wanting to take a little time away from the bakery. I just couldn't accept Pippa's explanation of events. There had to be a logical explanation for everything that had happened, so I had decided to use my sick day for something more than just lying on the sofa and watching Criminal Point: I was going to get to the bottom of everything.

  I wasn't too impressed with the woman in front of me and certainly didn’t want to waste my time on her. Hoping to end the interaction quickly, I started to close the door but she stepped in front of it.

  "Maybe I should talk to you then."

  I didn't really like the sound of that. "I'm a little busy right now," I said politely. "Fighting off a bit of the flu, actually. I wouldn't want you to get infected."

  "Oh, I won't get infected," she said with eyes that opened so wide it was a little creepy. "I have a spell that makes me immune from all the winter bugs."

  Oh boy.

  "I can cast it on you if you like?"

  "No, thanks. I've got plenty of aspirin and throat lozenges. Those are my magical spells."

  She didn't seem amused. Her face had a ghostly, otherworldly quality. "Are you Rachael? Pippa's told me a lot about you."

  I nodded. "The one and only."

  "I'm Tegan," she replied.

  The name was familiar to me. I now knew exactly who she was. She was the leader of the Belldale Paranormal Society. The one that called all the shots.

  Most likely the one that had put all the crazy ideas into Pippa's head in the first place. I eyed her with suspicion.

  "I really ought to go back inside. I'm feeling rather faint."

  Tegan eyed me like she could see right through me. Literally. But also as though she could tell that I was lying. "Rachael, Pippa told me about all the mysterious things that have been happening to you.”

  "Did she?" I asked heavily.

  Tegan nodded. "It sounds to me like you have had a curse placed on you, Rachael."

 

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