I slunk into the plastic booth, wishing that the yellow seat would swallow me up.
"You okay, dear?"
Simona delivered the coffees to the table and I muttered another thanks. My hand was trembling as I ripped the sugar packet open and dumped the contents into my latte.
I had to ask. "Dawn," I started to whisper, before we were approached by a young woman in her early twenties with a short mahogany colored bob and a purple pea coat.
"Sorry," she said, her voice gushing. "But, you’re Dawn Ashfield, aren't you?"
I paused, stirring my coffee and looking at Dawn, waiting anxiously for her response. Would she be annoyed at being interrupted like this?
It was clear this sort of thing must happen to her all the time. She graciously posed for a photo while the girl, practically bouncing up and down with excitement, aimed her smart phone at the two of them, her arm around Dawn. "Thank you so much!" she squealed, before running off.
"I suppose you get that quite a lot," I said, taking a sip of my latte before scanning the room. I hadn't noticed it when we'd first walked in, but now I saw that half the people in the shop were casting furtive glances in Dawn's direction and whispering to each other to check amongst themselves if it was really her, wondering if they had the nerve to come over and ask for a photo like that one brave girl had.
Dawn waved her hand and picked up her cappuccino. "Oh, it's all just part of the job. I've been at this a long time, dear. It's become second nature over the decades. I've come to expect the constant interruptions. Water off a duck's back now."
I nodded but I was trying not to frown. I knew that Dawn had been baking for a long time. She was one of those faces that occasionally turned up on morning TV shows when I was little. She had also published dozens of cookbooks over the years, but it wasn't until she'd been cast as a judge on Baking Warriors five years earlier that she'd actually gotten truly famous.
Anyway. I supposed she knew better than I did when it came to her own experience.
"You were asking me something, right before that young lady came over?"
I was suddenly too embarrassed to ask if Dawn knew anything about the rumors about me and Pierre. I was sure that if she did know about them—and surely she did—then she would be discreet about it.
I cleared my throat. "I was just wondering, Dawn. Not that I'm not thrilled to be having coffee with you, but why did you want to meet up with me? Does it have something to do with the show?"
Dawn chuckled a little. "You are anxious to be on the show, aren't you, dear?" She reached over and placed a hand on mine and it felt warm and leathery. "But take if from me, dear, fame isn't all it's cracked up to be." She took a sip of coffee and ended with a heavy sigh. "Take it from Pierre."
"Right." She still hadn't answered my question though. "I'm sorry about Pierre, by the way. I know the two of you were close friends." They were always in magazine features together, raving about how they couldn't live without the friendship and support of the other while they were filming. "It must be tough for you right now."
Dawn stared down into her coffee cup. "Yes," she whispered. "To be honest, though, it still hasn't quite hit me. Maybe once we're all out of this town. Nothing really feels real at the moment while we are all in limbo." She lifted her eyes and I caught sight of tears sitting in the bottom of them. "By the way, dear, I don't believe any of those salacious rumors about you and Pierre. I was there. I know you only met him the one time. But, you know, people do talk."
I could feel my face redden.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. They've gotta have something to fill the magazines and websites with. It's only because you did so well at the audition. People were jealous, I guess." She settled back in her seat. "If Pierre hadn't been killed, then you likely would have been the one to go through to the next round. And you didn't even use that sad backstory about your grandma!" She must have caught sight of my face because she looked immediately stricken and hurried to apologize. "You must forgive me. Years of working in reality TV have rubbed off on me. I'm starting to sound like a producer. All this talk about backstory, like the events aren't real things that have traumatized people. Please, you must tell me a little about your grandmother."
I nodded and told her about how she started to teach me how to bake when I was just three years old. "My mother had me when she was very young. She was single and had to work full time to support me, so we moved back in with my grandma. Nana was the person who looked after me full time from when I was just a few months old, right up until I started school." I recounted some of my best memories to Dawn, of the way Nana had taught me about the science of baking, as she called it. She baked every thing with precise measurements, always used a pair of finely tuned scales to make sure there was the exact right amount of flour, sugar, butter, etc., in a dish, never ever eyeballed it, and knew that you couldn't just double the ingredients in a recipe and expect it to taste the same. "Recipes are there for a reason," she would always say.
"Even though it could occasionally be frustrating, I learned a lot from her strictness, and everything she taught me has stuck with me." I grew quiet for a moment. "She passed away only a few months before the store opened. I always wish I'd brought the date forward, but I was my grandma's granddaughter. I waited until everything was perfect before I went forward."
"You must really miss her," Dawn said gently.
"I do."
"I hope all this death business hasn't gone and stirred all that up." Dawn paused. "But I guess you're used to grisly murders now, aren't you?" She shivered a little. "The kind of thing I avoid. I can't even watch a scary movie or read a crime novel. What has drawn you to try and solve these cases, dear? It's a rather peculiar hobby, if you ask me."
I was a teeny bit taken aback. "I wouldn't say I've ever gone looking for these things, or pursued them. They just seem to find me. Wherever there's a murder, there I am." I made a face, though I tried to cover it up with a little laugh. "That's probably more morbid than if I had gone looking for them, isn't it?"
Dawn shrugged a little. "For some people, tragedy just seems to follow them."
I wasn't sure that was it. I had no idea why these sorts of things seemed to follow me around. "I do know that I seem to have a knack for solving these cases, though."
Dawn's eyebrow shot up a little. "Don't tell me you’re investigating Pierre's death?"
I wasn't quite sure how candid I should be. After all, it was all on a very hush-hush basis. Unofficial, as Jackson would say. "I wouldn't say investigating. I'm just keeping my eyes and ears open."
Dawn looked impressed. "Well, I hope you do manage to turn something up. The sooner we are out of this town and away from the press scrutiny the better. I'm as desperate as anyone to know what happened to Pierre and I can't say I've got all that much faith in your local police department. Please tell me you will look into it, Rachael."
I wondered how Jackson would feel to know that it wasn't just the locals who had lost confidence in the Belldale police department. Even the out-of-towners were skeptical.
"I can't promise anything, Dawn. But I will try my best." I placed my empty latte glass down. "You never told me why you wanted to meet with me."
Dawn rested her face in her hands and gave me a warm smile. "I just wanted to check in with you, Rachael. Have a coffee. Chat. And we've done that." She grabbed her purse and extended her smile even wider. "You remind me an awful lot of myself when I was your age. And I wanted to offer to mentor you at any time. If you're interested, that is."
My eyes grew wide. "Interested? I'm more than interested. Dawn, I'm sort of taken aback right now. Are you really willing to do that?"
She chuckled again. "Of course, my dear. But right now, I really need to be getting back to my hotel. Justin wants to see me for something, and you know how persuasive he is!"
I followed her out of the shop. "Oh, I know it."
The apartment looked like a bomb had gone off. For a second I had to wonder if that
was what had actually happened. It wasn't just a matter of mess—though as I stepped over the piles of clothes and books on the floor, I almost tripped and sprained my ankle—but there was also debris lying on the floor. Broken bits of wood, some glass, trinkets lying everywhere.
"Did we have an earthquake?" I asked as Pippa appeared in the hallway. Maybe I'd been so wrapped up in my meeting with Dawn that I hadn't even felt it. Maybe it had been confined to our apartment.
"Sorry, Rach," Pippa said, making an awkward face. "We weren't expecting you back so soon." She spun around and looked at an overturned bookshelf that no longer had any shelves in tact. That explained the debris all over the floor. "Marcello was moving some of his bags and he wasn't watching where he was going."
There was a surprise. "Did he also have a bull trailing behind him?" I asked in disbelief before following her into the living room. "Hang on," I said, staring at the piles of bags and luggage. "He was moving bags INTO the house?"
"Yes?" Pippa said unsurely. "I know they are taking up a bit of space."
"Pippa, I assumed he'd be moving his bags OUT of here, by now."
Pippa's face fell. "You don't want us here anymore?"
I sighed. "It's not that I don't want you here. You know I always said you could live here as long as you want or need, Pippa. But that was when you were single. This is a one-bedroom apartment! We can't have three people living here! Especially when one of them is..." I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would later regret. "...Marcello."
"I see," Pippa said, crossing her arms and refusing to look at me. "You don't like Marcello. Well, don't worry, Rachael. We will be out of your hair as soon as we can! We won't put you out any longer. "
"It's not like that, Pippa. And it's not that I don't like Marcello as a person," I said, exasperated. It was true. I did like him. It was just that... "I just like not having my stuff ruined every day."
Pippa's face dropped and her indignation drained away a little. "I know he can be a hassle to live with," she said quietly. "Honestly, I appreciate you putting up with us as long as you have." She caught sight of the mess in the hallway. "I'll help you clean that up."
"Don't worry just now," I said, grabbing her arm. "It can wait 'til later. Let's just have a quiet night in. Eat some snacks, watch some Criminal Point. Marcello is at his new job washing dishes tonight, right?" Pippa nodded. "So, what do you say?"
"I say, sounds great," Pippa said with a forced smile, before wrapping her arms around my neck. "Thanks, Rach. And I promise, we'll find our own place as soon as possible. If not sooner."
"So, stop keeping me in suspense. What did Dawn have to say for herself? Are you getting cast on Baking Warriors or not?" Pippa sat back on the sofa, curling her knees up underneath her with wide eyes, waiting for my answer.
I stuck my chopsticks in the carton of gluten-free satay rice noodles and shook my head as I stared up at her from my position on the floor. "You were right, I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Filming is delayed indefinitely. I will have to re-audition if I ever want a chance of getting on the show." I took another mouthful of noodles. "I'm not even sure I still want to, to be honest."
Pippa leaned forward. "But, Rach, you've got to," she whispered. "Otherwise, whoever killed Pierre is going to get just what they wanted. You can't let them actually receive their bizarre sense of justice."
I shrugged. "Or, I could just find the person who did it."
Pippa shrugged as well. "I guess. I still want to see you on TV though. You've got to do it for me if you won't do it for yourself." She munched down on her own cashew and vegetable stir fry noodles. "So what were you summoned to the studio for then?"
"Huh? Oh. Dawn Ashfield just wanted to talk to me to see if I wanted her to mentor me. It was kind of a surprise."
Pippa raised an eyebrow, impressed. "See! Now you've GOT to re-audition. It would be crazy not to. You could do worse than Dawn Ashfield for a mentor. Cripes, you'll probably win the whole thing if Dawn takes you under her wing."
"That's the truth." I dug around for some more noodles before stuffing them into my mouth. "I guess I'll have to think about it, weigh all the options." I thought about my nana again for a second.
Pippa murmured thoughtfully for a second. "Huh. It really seems that having the auditions done over would benefit a couple of people, doesn't it?"
I nodded and reached for my glass of white wine, taking a sip. "It certainly benefits the people that missed out behind me."
"Say, Renee and Adam?"
I nodded again. I still hadn't had the chance to talk to Adam. I explained what I'd learned about him to Pippa.
"So he DID know you were there that day?" Pippa's mouth dropped open a little. "I knew it."
"Seems like it." I placed my noodles down. I was stuffed. Savory dishes had a way of filling me up far quicker than sweet foods ever had.
"So, are we going to talk to Adam again?" Pippa asked. She picked up her phone. "He's been bugging me actually, sending me texts and emails to follow up, asking if I am going to buy one of his cakes."
"And are you?" I struggled not to laugh.
She sighed and leaned back on the sofa. "No!" she said with a laugh. "They’re overpriced and not half as good as yours. But I suppose I could pretend I'm still interested if it helps us investigate. Can you stomach going into his shop again? Dealing with all that taffeta and ego?"
I leaned back on my wrists on the floor. "I guess I'm going to have to."
But it didn't come to that. At 7:00 AM the following morning, it was Pippa and I who found Adam Ali at OUR place of work, not the other way around.
Pippa jumped in fright as she stood up from placing a cake in the bottom display shelf to find Adam with his beak pressed up against the glass. His eyes seemed particularly small and beady that morning as he scanned the contents of our store through the window before stalking toward the door and pulling it open with a quick yank.
"I thought you said you didn't supply wedding cakes here!" he said, pointing to the cake that Pippa had just placed in the display cabinet.
I watched the scene quietly from the register as I counted the change. Pippa was better at talking her way out of trouble in situations like this than I was.
"That's not a wedding cake," she replied.
"Well, it's white."
"That's because it's white chocolate," Pippa said quickly. "Other cakes besides wedding cakes can be white, you know."
Adam narrowed his eyes and bowed down to get a better look at the cake. "That looks like fondant to me," he said.
"It's not. It's white chocolate. Regular old icing. It's just extra smooth. We have a special spatula that we use." Pippa looked over at me for help.
"Adam," I said, and he finally turned his attention to me. "Can we help you with anything this morning?" I was thinking that he could certainly help us with something, but I didn't want to make him any crosser than he already was before I started to interrogate him.
He finally managed to pry his nose away from the display stand. He pointed to Pippa before saying, "I was trying to track down this one. To see if she had any actual intention of purchasing one of my prestigious wedding cakes. But now I can see she has no intention to. Why would she buy from me when the shop she works in supplies wedding cakes?" He finished pointedly, glaring at me with his icy blue eyes.
Seeing as he was already irritated and had no plans of backing down or playing nice, I decided I may as well come right out and ask him.
"Why did you lie about knowing I was at the audition?"
With his red hair and pale skin, it didn't take much of a blush for Adam to turn bright red. "I didn't lie," he said feebly, reaching out to tap his fingers on one of my counter tops. "I had no idea you were there, darling. Why would you say otherwise?"
I straightened up and exchanged a look with Pippa. "Justin told me. He told me that not only did you know I was there, you knew that I did better than you. That I was going through and you weren't." I hesita
ted, wondering if I ought to really stick the boot in. "Justin told me that you bombed your audition, actually."
Adam performed the motion of flicking his hair over his shoulder even though his hair was nowhere near long enough to actually do that.
"Justin doesn't know what he is talking about," Adam mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the cake display. I thought I could detect a note of bitterness in his voice that wasn't there due to any shame or embarrassment over screwing up his audition. I exchanged a look with Pippa, who seemed to pounce on the tone in his voice.
"Did you get along with Justin while you were preparing to interview?"
Adam lifted his head high in the air and pouted. "As well as anyone could get along with that guy. With his ridiculous expectations and his air of self importance."
Pippa and I were still looking at each other. Whatever Adam's problem was with Justin, it was personal, not professional.
I cleared my throat and ventured a guess. "Adam, did you perhaps get along a little too well with Justin?"
Adam was still pouting but he threw me an indignant look. "Whatever it was that happened between us, it was all one way, let me tell you. I turned Justin down and he responded by blowing my audition for me."
"Adam, I'm sure Justin wouldn't do that."
"He did. He tampered with my audition piece. I just know it. Left the cake out of the fridge or something so it tasted bad. I've never seen a person spit out one of my creations in my life, and suddenly all the judges are spitting my cake out, saying it was one of the worst things they have ever tasted." Adam shook his head. "No. It was Justin screwing with it. It just had to have been. I'm telling you, he wanted to take revenge on me for rejecting him. That was it." Adam finally looked me directly in the eyes. "Well, now I will have my chance again. A total do-over. With any luck, Justin won't be working at the show by the time the new auditions roll around."
"Adam," I said slowly. Accusingly. "Why do you think that Justin won't be around? What did you do?"
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