Rest, Relaxation and Murder: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

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Rest, Relaxation and Murder: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Page 2

by Stacey Alabaster

"Come on, Rach! He's super cute."

  "We're not supposed to be thinking about men on this trip, remember?" I said. "Even if they are incredibly cute. Anyway, I wouldn't care if I never bumped into him again. Maybe it would be better if we didn't socialize with the rest of the guests unless it’s absolutely necessary."

  Pippa pulled out the itinerary and sat down on the bed with a thud. "Well, you're not gonna like this then," she said, looking up. "For several reasons."

  I looked at her slowly. "What reasons might they be?"

  "Tonight's meal is a group event. It's either eat with everyone else or starve," she said.

  "Okay, that's one reason," I said with a frown. "What are the others?"

  "Just one," Pippa replied, pulling a face. "It's a murder mystery theme party."

  I rolled my eyes so hard I thought I might actually hurt them. "Great. Just great."

  "It looks like we really can't escape anything," I whispered to Pippa as I pulled out my chair. We were latecomers, as per usual, and neither of us had had a chance to receive or change into the theme outfits for the evening, which was 40’s garb.

  "I don't understand," I continued to whisper. "I thought we'd be outside, having a barbecue by the lake. Or, I don't know, whatever people do out here. Go night fishing? Something summery. That's what we came for. Not a pretend murder mystery."

  Robert overheard me from the other side of the table and cleared his throat, which made me jump. "You're not into murder mysteries?" he asked.

  I shot a look at Pippa, who was trying not to laugh.

  "I've just had my fair share of them," I muttered before finally taking a seat.

  Robert looked bemused by that. "You have?" He looked a lot older this evening in his suit and waistcoat and hat. "How so?"

  "Never mind," I said quickly. "I'm just joking."

  Pippa elbowed me. "Come on, this evening ought to be a piece of cake for you. So to speak. You'll probably solve it before we even reach the first course."

  "I just can't wait for this to be over," I said. I was already thinking about faking a migraine and heading to bed. How was I supposed to clear my head and think about my future career prospects when they were shoved in my face like this? I needed time to get away from solving mysteries so I could decide if it was really what I wanted to do as a full-time career. Now I was being forced to do it. While I ate, no less. The dessert course was going to be fun.

  But the dessert course never came.

  The first course didn't even come.

  Chapter 3

  There was a loose timeline to the game. We were supposed to have a round of drinks, then go around, introduce ourselves as our 'characters' and then wait until appetizers were served before we did the first round of questions and alibis.

  We were all sitting there, tapping our fingers against the table, waiting for the food to arrive, and the game to start.

  "I’m so hungry I am going to eat my character card," Pippa whispered as she leaned over to me. "We haven't eaten since that fast food restaurant we went through at 6am."

  "I know," I said with a sigh. "Everyone else would have had their catered meal on the bus at least," I said, looking at them all with envy. My character card was starting to look pretty tasty as well.

  Robert looked across the table and winked at me again. "Taking a while, isn't it?"

  I coughed nervously and looked at my watch. "You know what? I'm going to check on what’s going on."

  Pippa looked startled, as did the other guests as I stood up. "Well, someone has to," I muttered as I threw my napkin off my lap and stomped towards the kitchen.

  I should have knocked, but I was so used to entering commercial kitchens unannounced that I didn't stop to think. Besides, I was lightheaded with hunger by that point. So I just barged through the doors.

  I stopped when the yelling fully hit me.

  "Well, I don't know how to do it!" one young chef, a woman with bright red hair sticking out from under her white cap, yelled.

  "You're the sous chef!" a young man in a dirty apron–probably a kitchen hand–yelled back.

  The woman threw her hands in the air. "What does that matter! Ann never lets me actually cook anything." She banged her hand down on a bench. "They are all her recipes. Gosh, even if they weren't, Ann was supposed to do all the prep. We've got nothing, Aaron!"

  "Well, figure something out!"

  They both stopped yelling when they realized I was standing there and turned to stare at me.

  "Oh, hello," I said meekly. "I was just...erm." I looked around at the empty benches. "I'm a guest at the retreat and it's just... We are getting quite hungry out there. Is everything alright?"

  The woman sighed and waved her hand over the benches. "Well, we may as well come clean," she said dejectedly. "We've got nothing to serve tonight. You're going to have to make do with sandwiches." She wouldn't look me in the eye.

  I frowned. Something was clearly not right. And it wasn't just that we were going to be stuck eating sandwiches for dinner.

  "What's going on?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

  The kitchen hand, Aaron, looked away from me as well. "Nothing," he muttered.

  "It sounded to me like—forgive me if I'm wrong—your head chef never turned up?"

  The woman turned away and began to wipe a bench that wasn't dirty. "It's no big deal," she said. "Ann does this sometimes."

  "Vikki," Aaron said. "Come on. She wouldn't just disappear like this. Not on the first day of the retreat. Not without telling a soul. That's not like Ann."

  Vikki spun around, her face red and her eyes wild. "It's exactly like Ann. She’s flaky. Unpredictable."

  Aaron shook his head. "Not about her work. Come on, Vikki. We've got to come clean." He stopped and looked at me, almost like he'd forgotten I was there.

  "Come clean about what?" I asked slowly.

  "Nothing," Vikki said.

  Aaron starting scrubbing at another clean bench. "Just that we've got no food," he finally said, throwing off his apron. "I'll take the bullet," he said, storming out of the door. "I'll tell the guests."

  That left me alone with Vikki, who was still averting her eyes.

  "Ann is missing?" I asked her. "For how long?"

  She screwed her face up. "What does it matter to you?"

  "Have you told the police?"

  Vikki shrugged. "She'll turn up. One way or another."

  I held her gaze for a long time. "Right," I said, turning around to follow Aaron out of the room. I returned to the dining table to find my fellow guest groaning at the idea of sandwiches replacing a warm five-course meal.

  Aaron held his hands up. "Hey, I'm sorry," he said. "Don't shoot the messenger."

  I stared after him. Was he just the messenger, though? I watched his back all the way to the kitchen before he disappeared behind the swinging doors.

  Pippa looked up at me aghast. "Come on," I said, "let's go." I pulled her up by the arm. "We can just eat chips from the mini bar for dinner."

  "Hey," Pippa cried as I pulled her out of the dining room. "The game's still going on!"

  "Forget about the game," I said as I pulled her around the corner into the corridor. "There's more than a game going on, Pippa," I whispered.

  "What are you talking about?" Pippa whispered back.

  I looked over my shoulder towards the kitchen. "Something's not right, Pippa. The head chef, some woman named Ann, is missing." I shook my head. "And I don't think there's an innocent explanation for it, Pippa. Something is going on. Something is very wrong. And those two in the kitchen know what it is." I stared back at Pippa. "And it's up to us to investigate."

  Chapter 4

  "What was that?" Pippa whispered. "Rach, I think there's someone outside our door."

  We'd been booked into a twin room, each with a bed pressing against opposite walls. It was a large room but not large enough for Pippa not to disturb me during the night.

  "I'm sure it was nothing, Pippa. People walki
ng around out in the halls. It's a hotel. Get to sleep," I grumbled, rolling over. First night of vacation and I'd yet to get a wink of sleep.

  With Ann still missing, I wasn't sure I was going to.

  But I needed to at least try.

  "It's not nothing, Rachael," Pippa said. "I'm scared."

  I turned over, sat up, and switched the light on. "Pips, there's nothing to be frightened of. We're locked inside a hotel room."

  Pippa was sitting up as well now, her arms folded across her chest. "Locked inside a room where the hotel staff have access," she said, shivering.

  "Yeah, so?"

  She lowered her voice. "Well, don't you believe the staff are responsible for Ann's disappearance?"

  I lay back down again. "We don't know that, Pippa. Not for a fact. All I know is that they’re not telling us something. Ann is missing, sure, but she might have just left on her own accord. Honestly, I'm sure she'll re-appear by the morning, just in time for us to all enjoy a hardy breakfast." I flicked the light off again so that Pippa couldn't see the expression on my face.

  "I hope so," she replied. "Because I am starving."

  Pippa rolled her eyes as we sat down at the giant table in the dining room. Outside it was a glorious day, the blue of the sky blending with the sparkling blue of the lake, and not a dash of white cloud to be seen. A picture perfect sight. Paradise. But inside, the guests were grumbling like we'd been abandoned down a mineshaft or something.

  The table was not full of the breakfast that the brochures had promised: bacon, eggs, ham, sausage, croissants, fresh fruit and jams. Instead there were a few loaves of bread and a promise from a trembling member of the staff—a nineteen year old named Melanie—that she was hunting around for a toaster and would return with it soon.

  "Is there even any coffee?" Pippa whispered. "I need a caffeine injection, pronto."

  Robert leaned over the table towards me. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower and I could smell his aftershave as he got closer. "What's happening with the food here?" he asked.

  I snuck a glance at Pippa. The rest of the guests didn't know that the head chef was missing. Understandably, that news was likely to cause panic amongst everyone. Who would want to stay at a resort where people went missing with no explanation?

  I shrugged and smiled at him. "I guess they just lure you in on the website and the brochures with all the pictures of lavish feasts and then when you get here, you're stuck with..." I waved my hand across the table as Melanie hurried back into the room with an industrial sized toaster balanced precariously in her arms. "...toast," I finished.

  Robert grinned at me and grabbed a loaf of bread. "Oh well," he said. "As it so happens, toast is my favorite meal."

  I laughed and Pippa shot me a look. Okay, okay, so it wasn't the most hilarious comment anyone had ever made. But hey, at least he wasn't the kind to complain and make a fuss when things didn't turn out exactly the way he expected. I could see from the looks of disgust on the other guests’ faces that the resort would be receiving more than a few complaints directly following this 'meal.' At least Robert wouldn't add to the pile.

  Still, could I really be with someone whose favorite meal was toast? I made a face as I picked up my coffee, pondering the situation. What if I brought Robert into my bakery back in Belldale, showed him my finest selection of cakes, cookies and pies, told him he could have anything he wanted, and he replied with..."No, thanks. I'd rather have some toast."

  I gulped. He was likely just exaggerating.

  Besides, how would Robert ever come to be in my bakery all the way back in Belldale? I didn't even know where he lived, for one thing. I didn't even know if he was single. I'd probably never even see him again once this vacation was over. The thought made me far sadder than it should have.

  "Hey," Pippa whispered to me. "Where have you gone to in that head of yours?"

  Gosh, Rachael. You haven't even known the guy for twenty-four hours. Snap out of it.

  I placed my coffee cup down. "Was just thinking about Ann," I lied. Although, she'd never been far from my mind. Why was she still missing? Had the police been informed?

  Pippa nodded. "She better get back soon. I did not pay for THIS," she said, pointing down at the limp toast on her plate.

  "No," I pointed out. "You didn't. I did. It was a gift, remember." I raised an eyebrow at her and let out a little laugh as I picked up my cup again. I glanced at the unhappy faces around the table and for once was thankful for my gluten intolerence.

  Pippa laughed again. "You're right, I shouldn't complain," she whispered. Then her face grew dark. "After all, the food isn't really the most important thing, is it?" she said.

  I shook my head and kept my voice low. "No, it isn't. Pippa, I think we need to leave the table. We need to take this seriously, even if no one else is. We've got to find Ann."

  "Where are you going, young lady?" Robert asked.

  You’re younger than I am, I thought. Not that he knew my age yet. I was still deciding on whether I'd be completely honest about that if he asked. A few months earlier, when I'd auditioned for a reality baking show (and just about got cast), one of the producers had said I could easily pass for twenty-two as my 'TV age.' Maybe twenty-two should be my 'resort age' as well.

  Robert had caught me trying to slip out the side door of the dining hall. "Eh, just going for a walk to get some fresh air," I said as breezily as I could. "Been cooped up inside so far. That's not much of a vacation."

  Robert placed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. I normally don't like shorts on men, but Robert was still young enough—and sporty enough—to pull it off. He grinned. "Well, I've got good news for you then. The group activities are about to begin."

  "They are?" I caught a glimpse of Pippa on the other side of the door. She was waving frantically for me to join her. I made a face at her. Play it cool. We've been sprung.

  Robert nodded. "Kayaking is up first. On the lake."

  "It is...mandatory?" I asked, still sneaking a look at Pippa over his shoulder. He turned around to see what I was looking at just as Pippa dashed behind a tree.

  He spun back to look at me. "Not mandatory, I suppose. I mean, I don't think there's any punishment if you don't take part."

  Except socially, I thought. Of course no one could force anyone on the retreat to stick to the itinerary, but Pippa and I were already making a reputation for ourselves as outcasts: missing the bus, taking off from the rest of the group at every given opportunity.

  "And I'm going of course," Robert said. "If that manages to sway you at all."

  "Just give me a second," I said. "I need to grab my friend." I looked down at the jeans I was wearing. "And change, I guess. What does a person wear to go kayaking?"

  It seemed the answer was shorts and baggy mismatched t-shirts, like we were all misfits from a summer camp. And that's a little like what the resort was starting to remind me of. All forced fun group activities and terrible food.

  Pippa was not impressed by the puffy vest she was being forced to wear by the instructor, a middle aged man named Bryan.

  "I refuse to wear brown," Pippa said, looking down at the ugly vest.

  "It's to stop you from drowning," Bryan replied humorlessly.

  I wasn't very impressed with mine either. Especially with Robert looking at me. As we began to pair off under Bryan's instructions Pippa grabbed my arm. "You’re pairing up with me, aren't you?"

  I glanced at Robert, who was standing by an empty kayak and waving for me to join him. Then back at Pippa.

  "GIRLS ONLY VACATION, remember, Rachael?"

  I nodded at her. She was right. "Of course I'm going with you," I said, putting my arm around her shoulder. "Besides," I whispered, "we need to try to get out of here as quickly as we can."

  Pippa considered this for a moment. "How about once we get out in the middle of the lake, we pretend our kayak has sprung a leak and we need to rush back to shore before it sinks and disappears forever?"


  "Or we could both just jump overboard," I said. "Pretend we don't know how to kayak. That should put an end to it. You DO know how to swim, don't you?"

  "Er...kind of."

  I glanced at the vest that was still hanging limply in her hand. "You'd better put that on."

  "You know, you could at least pretend to pay attention to me," Pippa said, mock-sulking at the other end of the kayak. "Or at least pay attention to the kayaking."

  "Sorry," I said, finally prying my eyes away from Robert's direction.

  Pippa sighed. "It's okay, Rach. If you like Robert, I think you should just go for it."

  "What about the girls only vacation?" I murmured, watching as Robert expertly steered the kayak around the lake. He'd been stuck partnering up with an old lady named Lucille, a recent widow who had come on the vacation on her own. The first time she'd ever been alone on a trip in her life, she'd told us all. She seemed to be enjoying herself, especially with a young, handsome guy steering her around the water.

  Pippa shrugged. "Who am I to enforce that rule," she said. "I'm married after all. And I met my husband on vacation, didn't I? We can't have you turning into an old maid, Rach!"

  In a way, it was strange that Pippa had gotten married before I had. I was by far the more traditional of the two of us, and the one that other people had assumed would settle down fist. But Pippa had met Marcello and it had been love at first sight, with them married less than three weeks after meeting. And that WAS very Pippa, to rush in head first. Still, it seemed to be working out for her so far. I'd never seen her happier. Maybe I should take her advice and follow in her footsteps, I thought, gazing at Robert. But he was FAR too young to be interested in marriage. Or anything like it.

  Robert and Lucille were overtaken by a middle-aged couple named Morris and Jane, who were the only people in the group who were even greater outcasts than Pippa and I. They hadn't even been at the dinner/murder game the night before. Apparently they told the other guests that they preferred to dine alone and didn't trust food that other people had prepared. They were apparently surviving on pre-packaged protein bars they'd bought in bulk and were storing in their hotel room.

 

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