A DEADLY DANISH

by Fiona Grace

  “Murmurations!” Ali blurted. “You know, from the swallows? Their murmurations over the pier are absolutely beautiful at this time of day.”

  Georgia frowned as she looked from Ali to Piper and back again. “No, that’s not why. Someone failed to inform me about this beautiful murmuration spectacle.”

  “They do it at dawn as well,” Ali replied. “Maybe we could watch them tonight.”

  “Only if you have time for your poor mother,” Georgia said through a self-pitying exhalation, which she timed perfectly by sinking into the window seat and swiping off her straw hat.

  Ali was used to such theatrics from her mom, but when she looked over at Piper, her poor assistant looked like she was at a complete loss.

  “Can you bring us over some coffee?” she called, and the young woman nodded quickly, clearly grateful to have a task that kept her a safe distance away from the woeful Georgia Sweet.

  Ali turned back to her mother and sunk into the seat opposite her. She suspected the reason her mom was acting this way was because of the lack of time Ali had spent with her during the visit. There was only one way to deal with Georgia Sweet when she was in this kind of mood, and that was to pander to her.

  “How are you doing, Mom?” Ali asked, gently. “Everything okay?”

  Georgia avoided eye-contact and ran her fingers along the rim of her hat. “I’m just feeling a bit dejected, Allison,” she said.

  She always used Ali’s full name when she confessed her disappointments in her, as well as adopted an overly formal, polite version of herself as if to prove she was the better of them.

  “I came all this way to see you,” she continued. “And I feel as if you haven’t really given me the time of day.”

  She was using “I” statements, Ali also noted, wryly. It was something she’d started doing after reading a book called, “How To Talk To Your Daughter,” only she often misused it, her “I feel such-and-such way” statements quickly descending into, “I feel that you’re a horrible daughter because...” which was so not the point. Ali had to at least appreciate that she was trying.

  “I’m sorry I made you feel dejected,” she said, reaching out and patting her mother’s hand. “That wasn’t my intention. I’ve been busy, but I shouldn’t take that out on you.”

  Georgia loved it when people apologized to her. It was almost like nourishment, and Ali instantly saw a change in her mother. Her back straightened. Her gaze became more focused.

  “Well, thank you,” she said, her overly polite tone still there. “And I was thinking perhaps I ought to be more open-minded and taste one of your pastries.”

  Ali’s eyes widened. This was a breakthrough when it came to her mother! She almost leapt out of her seat with excitement.

  “Piper?” she called over her shoulder at the kitchen. “Can you bring some pastries with the coffee, too?” There was no answer, and so she called again, this time turning fully in her chair to face the door. “PIPER?” When there was still no answer, Ali stood. “Excuse me one second,” she said to her mom, and she scurried off across the bakery to the back kitchen. The last thing she wanted was this olive branch moment between her and her mother to be ruined by Piper!

  She pushed open the double doors and found Piper with her head in the fridge doors.

  “Piper,” she said. “I was calling you.”

  “Oh, sorry, Ali,” Piper said, straightening up. “I was just cooling off.”

  Ali frowned. “Please don’t use the fridge to cool off. It’s a waste of electricity!”

  Piper blushed. “Sorry, boss.” She shut the door. “What did you want?”

  Ali put the fridge debacle out of her mind immediately and grinned with childish excitement. “Mom wants to try a pastry!”

  Piper’s eyes widened, fully understanding just how significant this was for Ali. She sprang into action, grabbing some of the morning’s fresh offerings and putting them on a plate, before shoving it at Ali.

  “I’ll bring the coffee!” she said, with an excitement that matched Ali’s own. “Go!”

  It was quite evident she understood what a big deal this moment really was for Ali, and Ali was touched. She took the plate, and headed backwards out the steel swing doors, grinning at Piper as she went.

  But as she stepped backward onto the main bakery floor, the steel doors flapping shut behind her, and turned around, her joy went out like a flame doused in water. Because while she’d been out back, Delaney had come into the store, and by the expression on her face Ali immediately knew why she was here. She’d heard about the murder and had come to check on her. Only instead of Ali, she’d found her mother, and was midway through blurting out the words Ali never wanted her mother to hear.

  “Oh, Ms. Sweet! Are you okay? Did you hear about the murder?”

  And just like that, all hell broke loose.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Murder?” Georgia shrieked.

  Her voice was so loud it could probably be heard in Timbuktu. It took all of Ali’s strength not to drop the plate of pastries.

  She hurried over, placing it on the table, and gently steering a panicked looking Delaney out of the firing line. Then she took the seat opposite her mother again and grasped her hand.

  “Listen, Mom,” she began.

  But Georgia was having none of it. “Murder?” she shrieked once more. “Ali! Someone was murdered? And you didn’t tell me? When? What happened? Who was it?”

  Ali tried to stay as calm as possible. “His name is Marvin Chessley. He’s the new councilman.”

  “A councilman!” Georgia squealed, as if this somehow made it worse. She pulled her hands free of Ali’s and started fanning her face with them. “Oh Ali, I do not like this one bit. Not at all.”

  Piper appeared beside them with the coffee, thudding it clumsily onto the table. “Here you go Ms. Sweet,” she said. “This will help your nerves.” Then she grabbed Delaney by the arm and the two women scurried away to the safety of the kitchen, leaving Ali to deal with the fallout from the nuclear bomb Delaney had unwittingly dropped.

  “Did they arrest the killer?” Georgia demanded. “Or is there a madman on the loose?”

  “They haven’t made any arrests yet,” Ali explained. “But the cops in this town are exceptional.”

  “They can't be that exceptional if they let people get murdered in the first place!” Georgia countered, quick as a flash. She shook her head again, becoming increasingly distressed. “Ali, I really must put my foot down now. I’ve tried the patient approach with you. I’ve tried to be gentle and let you make your own mistakes. But this isn’t just a flight of fancy anymore; things have gotten dangerous. I simply can’t allow you to continue with this ridiculous bakery! What kind of mother would I be if I left my youngest daughter in a dangerous town with vandals and murderers? I’ll call Eclair’s and beg Russell to give you your job back if I have to, but I will not let you risk your life in this awful town any longer.”

  Her words stung Ali like a slap to the face. Georgia had been disapproving of her bakery venture since day one, but Ali hadn’t realized quite to what extent her feelings went. To realize now that she’d been holding back this whole time, and that her quiet disapproval was actually a mask covering up all these horrible opinions was truly shattering.

  “Please, Mom, you’ve had a shock,” Ali said.

  “No,” Georgia interrupted. “You are not worming your way out of this one, missy. I’m going back to the hotel room and calling a removals firm. We will have you back home by the end of the day, and once I know you’re safe we can work out what to do with this horrible place.”

  She peered around her at the bakery with utter disgust. The airs and graces she’d forced herself to adopt before completely gone. Ali felt her heart breaking. The bakery was her joy, her dream come true. Her mom wasn’t coming round to it. Not in the slightest.

  She stood and swiped her hat off the table. “I’ll leave you to speak to your little friends while I make t
he arrangements,” she said with the tone of a martyr, and with that she stormed away, leaving Ali shell-shocked in her seat, staring at the plate of untouched pastries.

  “Ali?” came a small, gentle voice from behind. “You okay, hun?”

  Ali turned in her seat to see Delaney creeping toward her. Piper, a couple steps behind, was also tiptoeing in her direction. They’d evidently been listening at the kitchen door to Georgia’s entire meltdown. The sight of their kind faces made Ali’s bottom lip immediately quiver with emotion.

  “Oh!” Delaney exclaimed at the sight of it, and she hurried forward, no longer cautious, and wrapped her arms around Ali. “I’m so, so sorry!” she gushed. “I had no idea your mom would go off like that. Oh, the things she said to you, Ali! How cruel! I’m so sorry.”

  Ali shook her head. “It’s not your fault. She was going to find out sooner or later. And I always knew she disapproved… I just had no idea it was to that extent.”

  “Your mom’s a total B,” Piper offered.

  Ali glowered at her.

  Piper just shrugged. “Sorry, not sorry.”

  “Maybe she’s right,” Ali said. “Maybe this whole thing was a terrible idea? I mean, I’m the lead suspect in a murder! Someone’s graffitied my store! Maybe I am in danger? And think of all the awful things that happened after I got here. Maybe it would be better for everyone if I just left Willow Bay.”

  Delaney slid into the seat opposite Ali and took her hand. “Now listen. We’ll figure this out, okay?” she said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Figure it out…” Ali muttered. “How?”

  “One step at a time,” Delaney said. “First things first, solve the murder.”

  Ali, Delaney, and Piper went over what they knew about the murder—the circumstances, the timing, and of course, who had a motive to do it.

  “Every vendor at the council meeting had a motive,” Ali said. “But every business owner on the boardwalk has an alibi.”

  Just then, she spotted Emilio crossing outside her window on the way to his pizzeria. He looked just as calm and chipper as he had done yesterday, unphased, like nothing mattered.

  “Emilio,” Ali said, as her memory sparked of him being cool as a cucumber at the meeting.

  “What about him?” Piper asked.

  “Yesterday. At the meeting. Everyone else was panicking and emotional, but he was totally calm. Almost as if he knew something.”

  Delaney shook her head. “But you already said all the vendors were accounted for.”

  Ali nodded, her mind turning over at a million miles a second. “Yeah. But, who out of everyone there could be in two places at once? The identical twins!”

  She felt guilty even saying it. The Italians were her friends, and she didn’t think either of them could be capable of something like this. But the harsh reality was that Marco was in a very desperate situation right now, and good men could be driven to evil deeds when their backs were up against a wall. Everyone had a breaking point and knowing just how passionate the twins were about their businesses, added fuel to her speculation.

  Delaney and Piper exchanged a look that was not lost on Ali. They thought she was losing her marbles.

  “You’re not saying that Emilio snuck away and killed Marvin, knowing Marco would be his cover, are you?” Delaney asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Ali cried, suddenly enthused. “Think about it. How often do you mix them up?”

  “Now that Emilio’s cut his hair, never,” Piper replied.

  “Right. But you need to know it’s Emilio who’s had the hair cut in order to identify him. How many people there knew which one of the twins had cut their hair though? Probably not many. So when you’re giving an alibi — yes I saw Emilio — you might think you’d seen Emilio, but you were just confusing him with Marco.”

  Piper blinked, not really understanding. But Delaney was brighter, and she got it.

  “But Ali, it’s a bit ‘crazy movie-plot’ for reality, don’t you think, the whole identical twin switch-up thing?”

  “Maybe. But then so is our new councilman being strangled to death in the parking lot in the space of a few minutes and there being not a single clue left behind as to the killer's identity! Crazy things happen. And who out of every business owner on the boardwalk was in the most perilous position? Marco. I think Emilio did it to save his brother’s backside.”

  “There’s one flaw in your theory, Ali,” Delaney said. “Marco and Emilio hate each other! Why would Emilio kill for him?”

  “I don’t know!” Ali cried. “Because blood is thicker than water?” She wasn’t letting this one go. She was clutching onto her one hope of solving the murder. “But it’s the best theory I have right now. Only theory. I need to find out if both Marco and Emilio were definitely seen at the time of the murder, not by asking people about them by name, but by asking about them by appearance. The short haired twin, the long-haired twin. And I bet you no one actually saw the short haired one. I bet you.”

  She was riled now, full of excitement that she finally had a theory and a possible lead. She jumped up from her seat and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Piper asked.

  “You can cover here, right?” Ali said. “I’m going to see whether Emilio actually has an alibi.”

  And without waiting for an answer, Ali left her two friends at the table staring at her with disbelief like she’d completely lost the plot and hurried away.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ali headed straight to Seth’s. Of everyone who’d been at the meeting and subsequent murder scene last night, he was the only one who knew Marco and Emilio as well as she did. If anyone could vouch for the twins, it would be him. Besides, he was one of the people she trusted most in Willow Bay, so of course it would be him she turned to in her moment of need.

  Halfway up the boardwalk, Scruff caught up with her, and he trotted alongside her purposefully like a personal security guard all the way up to the entrance of Best Hot Dogs. But when he noticed where she was intending to go, he let out a whine of disapproval. Seth had never even let the scrappy little stray step inside his restaurant, and Scruff stared at Ali like she was a traitor.

  “Sorry, Scruff,” she said, apologetically, pushing her shoulder against the door. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  She headed inside Best Hot Dogs and looked across the length of the long restaurant to the counter. Carys was on duty today, serving one of Seth’s famous breakfast hotdogs to a customer in boardshorts. She rushed toward the counter taking her place behind the man, only for him to turn around at the sound of her footsteps.

  “Nate!” Ali cried with complete shock. “What are you doing here?”

  She felt terrible for having failed to recognize him from behind. Isn’t that the sort of thing lovers were meant to do?

  ‘They’re also not supposed to suspect one another of murder…’ she added as an afterthought.

  “Oh. Ali. Hey,” Nate said. His tone seemed dejected. “You must be pretty mad at me.”

  Ali’s heart leapt. Mad? Why would she be mad, unless, of course, he was indeed Marvin’s killer and had let her become prime suspect without intervention?

  “No…?” she said, framing it as a question.

  “Because I meant to come and see you at the bakery,” Nate offered. “Remember? I promised you last night I would. So we could talk.”

  It took Ali a moment to remember the plans they’d made, and it was long enough for Nate to pick up on.

  “You forgot,” he stated, simply.

  “Kinda,” Ali said, guiltily. “But only because I got totally sidetracked. Someone graffitied my store.”

  Nate’s green eyes widened with shock. “Oh! Ali, that’s awful. Are you okay? You must be shaken up?”

  Just then, Ali spotted movement in the open kitchen visible from the counter. Seth. She felt her focus drift to him and the burning questions she wanted to ask him.

  “Actual
ly, it’s fine,” she said to Nate, her mind already cleaved into two halves. “Just kids, you know?”

  “If you’re sure you’re okay, maybe we should have our chat now? If you’re free?”

  “Actually,” Ali said, “the thing is, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.” And as she said it, she accidentally allowed her gaze to drift away to Seth, who was now approaching the counter and coming up behind Carys.

  Nate’s gaze darted across as well, landing squarely on Seth.

  “I see,” he said, coldly.

  The temperature seemed to drop a good ten degrees. Even Carys noticed it, her round brown eyes going even wider as her gaze darted from Nate to Seth, before she dropped it to the counter with a pink flush in her cheek and stifled her expression.

  “It’s not like that,” Ali tried.

  But Nate wasn’t listening. He snatched up the hotdog Carys had made for him. “We’ll talk later,” he said, shortly.

  “Nate!” Ali said, making a motion toward him.

  Nate sidestepped her, then marched for the exit.

  Ali’s shoulders sagged as she watched him go. That couldn’t have been any more awkward.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Seth asked, looking at a total loss.

  Ali shook her head. She really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not with Seth of all people.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled. “Seth, can we talk? It’s about last night.”

  Carys let out a squeak, and Ali instantly realized the double meaning of her statement.

  “About Marvin!” she clarified. “And the town meeting!”

  It was too late for poor Carys though. Her mind had clearly gone to the gutter and now her cheeks were beet red. She was barely able to raise her gaze to her boss, as Seth replied in his gallant manner, “Of course.” He came out from the hatch in the counter and rested his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to a seat. Carys could evidently take it no longer, and she ran off into the kitchen to smother her high-schooler giggles, leaving Ali red faced and ashamed, and like the most terrible non-girlfriend in the world.