I walked back downstairs into the bakery and over to Liz Beth.
“I think we’re going to run out.” She said.
“We’ll be fine. I can always bake another batch in a little bit.”
“If you’re gonna get the mixer out then maybe we should make another batch of the cherry truffles also.” She said.
“That’s fine. I’ll put it on my list.” I headed back over to my side of the counter. “Try to upsell those peanut clusters in the meantime.”
Liz Beth smiled. She knew that I was always trying to push more product.
My motive wasn’t for profit’s sake so much as it was to see the look on customers’ faces when they bit into one of my desserts. I loved that part. It was the best part of the job for me and made owning the store worthwhile.
“Hey there, Jewell Deen.” Sheriff Tucker stood next in line. His tall frame loomed over the glass case counter.
The glass case extended almost the entire length of the shop, and in it were all of our desserts. I had it specially designed for this space. It was a beautiful display, if I do say so myself.
Sheriff Tucker bent down and perused over the dessert choices set in front of him. “I’ll take a turtle fudge brownie and a piece of that chocolate cheesecake you got right there.”
“All right Sheriff, you get the very last piece of the new bestselling cheesecake.” I said. “Do you want anything to drink with that?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He said. “I’m headed over to Smoothie Time for a strawberry-banana parfait drink before heading into work.”
“My goodness, that’s quite a dinner, Sheriff.” I joked.
“It’s not all for me,” he protested. “I’m bringing one of these to Ms. McCormick. She just started at the control center and I thought it would make her feel welcome.”
I smiled to myself, gleefully hiding the not-so-secret rumor that Sheriff Tucker was aiming to bring more than just the welcome wagon to Ms. McCormick’s door. It was nice, though because she was a widow and Sheriff Tucker had been too long a bachelor. I was rooting for both of them.
I rang up his order, took the wrinkly dollar bills and gave him his change.
“Well, good luck then.”
“Thanks.” He said. “And you pace yourself. This madness ain’t gonna stop anytime soon.”
His eyes darted around surveying the busy customers shopping and I knew what he meant. I watched him walk out the door and then returned my attention to helping the next customer.
“Jewell Deen, I need your help.” Liz Beth said, panic seeping into her voice.
Smoke billowed out of one of the baking ovens as Liz Beth tried to wave the thick, black mass away. The smell was overwhelming. I tried to help her by turning the dial to the off position and then opening the door. A rush of smoke blew into our faces. I wrestled with trying to disseminate the horrid smell as Liz Beth put on a pair of oven mitts and removed the black charred brownies.
Behind us, I heard the comments of a snarky woman in an impatient tone.
“This is ridiculous. I never have to wait when I go to my bakery in New York.” She said.
I turned around with a weak smile and to offer an apology, but before I could say anything she continued.
“I didn’t realize things moved this slowly in Mayberry.”
Her oversized sunglasses weighed down her round face as she clicked her nails on the counter waiting to be served. I saw Liz Beth about to turn around and go after her and decided to step in before the situation got worse.
Liz Beth had far less patience than I did for rude people. She preferred to tell them exactly where they could stuff their Boston Cream Pie if they got too haughty with her. I, on the other hand, preferred not to engage in conflict if it could be avoided. Not to mention the fact that we were surrounded by a sea of customers today and it would do very little good for business to lose our cool with one of them.
“I’m terribly sorry. We’ve been having problems with this particular oven, and…”
“I’m not interested in your excuses,” the woman’s voice had a high-pitched squeal to it as she barked out her distaste for the time it was taking to get her order. “I want my Pumpkin Spice Latte.”
Liz Beth turned suddenly and headed toward the woman when I sharply grabbed her shoulders and turned her back in the direction to the rear of the bake shop. She scowled but continued on to walk toward the back.
“Please accept my apologies. I’m happy to include a complimentary piece of our pumpkin bars to go with your order if you can be patient just a few moments more.”
The city woman flicked her brassy orange hair back behind her shoulder as she impatiently stood there.
“Do you realize how many carbs are in that?” She curled her lip up word.
Quite frankly I didn’t know how many carbs were in any of my desserts. I had decided long ago to throw out the nutrition information for decadence and indulgence. This wasn’t a place to come to if you’re trying to watch your waistline. And I made no apologies for that. This was the place for indulging, which was why her reasoning confused me. I knew I used milk fat in my Pumpkin Spice Latte as well as full fat whipped cream. Surely she could look around and see that we weren’t a tofu shop.
I didn’t bring that important fact up and decided instead to get her and her sour disposition out of the line and away from the other customers.
“If you’ll just follow me over here.” I led her to the side where a large display of iced sugar cookies in the shape of daggers and pistols were sitting on a white antique round table. “Here’s a gift card for a free Pumpkin Spice Latte on your next visit. I certainly apologize for any inconvenience.”
I shoved the rectangular card in her hands. She looked down at it and then back up at me, gave me a fake smile.
“Thank you.” Through gritted teeth she turned and left without her fully fat, loaded carbs, Pumpkin Spice Latte.
A deep sigh escaped my lips as I turned around and headed back behind the counter.
“You should’ve just told her where to stick it,” Liz Beth said.
I giggled at her frankness. I could always count on Liz Beth to be the voice of my frustrations. I guess that’s why we were such good friends.
The bell over the front door jingled as Sheriff Tucker returned with a couple more of his deputies.
“Well Sheriff Tucker, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” I smiled.
“Jewell Deen. Can we talk in private?” He asked.
I looked around, gesturing with my eyes to point out that there were a crowd of customers in the store. “I’m a little busy right now. Can’t this wait?”
“Unfortunately, it can’t. Can we go up to your apartment?”
“Heavens, this must be serious.” I couldn’t possibly imagine what the Sheriff wanted to talk to me about.
“Liz Beth can you take over from here? I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” I said.
“Are you crazy?” Liz Beth looked frazzled. She was never as good with high pressure situations as I was.
“Let the interns help you.” I told her.
Every year, I take on a couple of interns to work in the shop. They come from Flagler College behind St. George Street looking for college credits. They have been very handy to have around when business is busy on days like these.
I led the officers upstairs into my apartment. Cupcake saw that I wasn’t alone and stood up giving her obligatory one bark notice that strangers were in the house. Once she fulfilled her doggy duty, she laid back down on her pillow. I gestured toward the other sofa for the three officers to sit down and shut the door.
“Now, what’s this about?” I asked.
I wasn’t happy at all with their serious expressions and demeanor.
Sheriff Tucker raked his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head as he stuttered to get the words out. This wasn’t a light-hearted visit like I had come to expect from the sheriff and my curiosity was beginning to turn
into deep concern.
“Jewell Deen, I don’t know how to best say this so I’m just gonna say it. Becky Robinson is dead.”
Chapter 2
I felt my knees begin to wobble. I knew that if I didn’t sit down they were going to give out underneath me. I supported my weight with the armrests of my recliner as I slinked down into it.
“What? What are you talking about?”
Becky Robinson was a high school classmate of mine. We were in Home Economics class together. Although we didn’t see each other as often, with our lives going in different directions, I still considered her a dear friend.
“I’m sorry, I know this is difficult.” Sheriff Tucker said.
Cupcake jumped off of her pillow and into my lap. I knew she could sense how I was feeling. She was very good at reading me and always did a good job of comforting me.
I pet her apple-shaped head and held her until my brain could process the terrible news.
“Ma’am, Mrs. Robinson was found in the Ponce Inlet. We believe she drowned.” One of the officers said.
I didn’t recognize him. He looked to be fresh out of the academy. They were always getting younger every year.
His words were garbled streams of nonsense to my brain. It took me several seconds to understand what he said. Poor Becky. She was such a loving and giving soul. We baked our first soufflés together. I remember attending one of her swim meets in high school.
“Wait-” I interrupted. “Did you say drowned?”
The other officer spoke up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s not possible.” I said.
The three of them stared at me.
“Excuse me?” Sheriff Tucker said.
“It’s impossible, Andrew. Don’t you remember that Becky was a state swim champion in school? There’s no way she didn’t know how to navigate any body of water, especially Ponce Inlet. She spent every second she could swimming there.”
“Jewell Deen, I know how hard this is for you. It appears as though her hands were tied behind her back also.” Andrew reached over and patted my arm.
I stood up suddenly and paced the room, my hands covering my mouth. This couldn’t be happening. How brutal. Becky was a wonderful person. Always giving her time and volunteering down at the women’s shelter. She was someone you could always count on to show up for you. She even helped me when I was just starting out in my bake shop by creating original cheesecake recipes and giving me sole ownership of them.
And now she was gone.
“This doesn’t make any sense. She was the last person anyone would want to hurt.” I sat down again unable to stop fidgeting.
Andrew stood up and walked over to where I was sitting. He placed a hand on my shoulder as placed my head in my hands. The younger, blonde-haired officer looked down at his notes.
“Becky’s family notified us that she recently made some interesting changes to her will.” He said.
“I’m sorry, what is your name?” I asked.
“Deputy Flint, ma’am. And this is Deputy Aros. Sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves earlier.” He seemed embarrassed to have messed up such basic etiquette.
“Thank you, Deputy Flint. Now what has that got to do with me?”
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Witch Way to Candy Cane Murder (Holiday Helpings Book 1) Page 5