Bakeries and Bodies (Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Book 8)

by Danielle Collins

  She could tell he wasn’t impressed with the man either, but decided that there would be plenty of time to tell him—or anyone who would listen—about what she’d seen. At least, she hoped that would be true.

  The chill snaked through Margot’s layers to seep into her bones. They’d been outside for close to fifteen minutes as the young officer had run all over to find a pad of paper, and then a pen, and then to ask his buddies what questions he needed to ask.

  Finally, Adam had explained who he was and taught the young man—who was very appreciative—how to take a statement.

  “That should be everything you need. If not—” He made sure the young man was looking up at him. “—you have your contact information and you can call us at any time.”

  “Th-thank you, sir,” the man said. He looked tired and barely over twenty, but he also had that eager spark about him that made Margot think he would make a fantastic officer given the right training.

  “Thank you,” she said as they turned to leave.

  “So, want to tell me what you saw in there?”

  Margot pressed her lips together as they climbed in the car, but turned to Adam the moment he got in. “I saw a mark behind his ear.”

  “That’s what you told the officer in your statement, but what do you think it was?”

  She had mentioned the mark, but the young man hadn’t seemed to notice it as anything important. At the least it would make it into his report. At most, he might mention it to the head detective, but she had a feeling no one was allowed to mention much to Russ Nelson out of turn.

  “I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes to remember the image more clearly just as the heat came on in the car. “I think it was a puncture mark.”

  “Like from a syringe?”

  She nodded, opening her eyes and extending her hands to the vents. “I couldn’t be sure, they were turning him over and I only saw it in passing.”

  “I’m sure the medical examiner will note it.”

  “I'm sure as well.” She bit her lip in thought.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Just that we both saw Fran. She’s…frail. And short. I don’t think the blow she dealt that poor man could have done any real damage. Probably a massive headache and maybe it would have knocked him out, but I don’t think it could have killed him.”

  Adam considered this. “It’s true. She’s not a strong woman, but adrenaline can do some pretty impressive things. We’d need to know more of her side of things. Like what type of situation did she find herself in when Simon showed up? And head injuries are very tricky things. It’s possible she hit him just right and…well, that was it.”

  “True.” Margot slumped back against the seat as Adam pulled away from the bakery.

  Her thoughts flew back to finding the man in the middle of the bakery and then seeing poor Fran coming out of the pantry. Had she been hiding there long?

  “Was he cold?”

  “Huh?” Adam signaled and turned onto the road that headed in the direction of the mountains and the golf course.

  “Cold. Was Simon cold when you felt for his pulse?”

  “Margot…” Adam’s tone said clearly what his words did not. He didn’t want her looking into this.

  “I'm just curious how long Fran was in that pantry. You saw her. She was in shock.”

  He nodded slowly, turning into the golf course’s main entrance. “He was mildly cold. But…” Adam shook his head. “It’s hard to believe that Fran managed to stay in there for very long. She seemed…drowsy.”

  “She was in shock.”

  “Right.”

  There was something about the way Adam said right that caused Margot to look over at him. But, before she could say anything, they pulled up in front of the house.

  “Oh my goodness,” Louise said, coming out of the house in fur-trimmed boots and a long wool sweater over thick leggings. “What’s going on?”

  Adam frowned and shot a sidelong glance at Margot. “Mom, what do you mean?”

  “I got a frantic call from Fran. She’s— She said she’s at the hospital.”

  “It’s been an eventful morning,” Margot said, knowing it was too soft of a word to encompass what had happened, but lacking anything else to say.

  “Here, come inside and tell me all about it. I’ve got coffee going right now. This is terrible,” she said as she disappeared inside.

  “What do we say?”

  Adam shrugged. “I’m not sure. Usually, I’m not allowed to talk about the case with anyone—”

  “Though sometimes you make an exception,” Margot said with a grin.

  He laughed and kissed her on the nose before holding the door open for her. “True. But this time, I'm not constrained by that.”

  “I’m sure Detective Russ Nelson won’t be pleased if you share anything with anyone.”

  “Russ? Did you say Russ Nelson?” Louise stood at the doorway to the kitchen with mugs in each hand. “Here. Take this. There’s cream in the fridge and sugar on the counter.”

  “Yeah, Detective Nelson was down there this morning.”

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on? Fran was mumbling about something. It sounded like she was on something—” Louise shook her head. “—though I’ve never known her to take drugs. I could have sworn she said something about Simon, but that can’t be right. They stay so far away from each other—not to mention during the bake-off season. It’s like an all-out war.”

  “Mom, why don’t you sit down?”

  “What? Just tell me. I know that tone, young man. You tell me right now what is going on.”

  With one look at Margot and then a deep breath, Adam shared what had happened that morning. He left most of the details out for his mother’s sake, but it was clear she filled them in more vividly than either of them could have.

  “No! That— But that’s not right. Fran could never hurt another human being. She is the best and…oh my goodness.”

  Louise sunk into a chair and Adam hurried to her side. “Breathe, Mom. It’s going to be okay.”

  She took several deep breaths, then reached out to grab Margot’s hand in one of hers and Adam’s in the other. “You’re right. It is going to be okay, because you two are going to clear her name.”

  Chapter 5

  “Oh, now, Missus Eastwood, I can’t—”

  “Louise. You must call me Louise. And you have to. Both of you. Adam, you’re a detective, for heaven’s sake. And you—” She squeezed Margot’s hand again and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’ve done the most amazing things. Adam’s told us all about all the cases you’re solved. Though I’m not sure I agree with the danger you seem to put yourself in at times. But then again—”

  “Mom,” Adam said more insistently, “we can’t. Detective Nelson made it clear that our opinions weren’t wanted or even accepted at the crime scene.”

  “Well, he’s wrong. I’ll have your father call Chief Mike. They are golf buddies and I’m sure—”

  “You can’t do that, Mom.”

  “But, honey, this is Fran we’re talking about.”

  “I know, and I care about Fran as much as you do, but we’ve got to let the detective do his job. I know I wouldn’t want outside people coming in and pulling strings to get me on the case. I’d resent that, as I’m sure Nelson would.”

  Margot thought that Russ Nelson would resent almost anything, even if it was helpful, but she kept her lips tightly sealed. This was clearly and issue between Adam and his mother. And yet, there was a small part of Margot that wanted to know what had happened. That wanted to investigate why Fran almost appeared drugged and how she could have felled a grown man with one swing.

  Still, Adam had a good point. There was no way that Detective Nelson would listen to anything they said. As long as the medical examiner saw the mark, Margot would be satisfied, but how would she find out if that happened?

  “Margot?”

  She came back to the present and blink
ed. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “Mom’s agreed to let things go for now.”

  “Only if…” she began, her eyebrows raised in a warning.

  “Only if we agree to go talk with Fran.”

  “Of course,” Margot said. She didn’t even have to think about it since she’d already been planning to go see the woman.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed as if he knew what she had been thinking, but he didn’t say anything. “We’ll go after lunch.”

  “What about now?” his mother said, looking worried.

  “Chances are that she is still being checked out by the doctor. It will be better to see her later when they have her resting comfortably.” At least that was what Margot hoped would happen, but she had a bad feeling about all of this. The way the detective had looked at Fran made Margot wonder if Fran wouldn’t be the first suspect. It would make sense at first blush, but the more Margot thought about it the more she knew that there was no way Fran had killed Simon.

  But would Detective Nelson realize that?

  Putting on a smile, she decided to hope for the best. She was already thinking negatively of the man and that wouldn’t help the situation at all. She had to put her faith in the system—she would do the same of Adam. Then again, if it were Adam, he would welcome her insights.

  She turned her gaze to the handsome man standing next to her as he tried to convince his mom that everything would be all right. She felt a wave of warmth wash over her at the mere thought of being here with his parents at Christmastime.

  Though she missed her sister Renee and her family, she had known that coming here this year was the right choice. Perhaps next year they could all meet up somewhere, or possibly go to Southern California where her sister lived.

  The mere thought of next year made Margot blush, a fact that Adam picked up on right away. His gaze asked her if she was all right and she put on an even bigger smile. “How about we do some baking of our own? I can take a few things to Fran to cheer her up. That is, if it’s all right, Louise?”

  “That is an excellent idea. Let’s do it! Adam—” Louise looked up at her son, her fist going to her hip out of habit. “—has Margot got you baking yet?”

  He held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “No. And I don't think she ever will.”

  “Never say never,” she said, tapping him lightly on the nose as she stepped around him to the oven.

  “Trust me, you don’t want me anywhere near pastries. Now, steaks on the other hand, I’m good with those.”

  “Steaks and salad,” Margot said with a laugh.

  “True.” He grinned. Adam was a healthy eater, except for when Margot brought pastries around, and then he made an exception.

  “You eat too many salads, dear,” his mother said, stepping around him and poking him in the ribs in the process. “You’re too thin.”

  “I don’t think there is such a thing. But, speaking of thin… If I’m going to eat at least a dozen of whatever you’re making, I’d better go on my run now.”

  “Is he always like this? So healthy?” Louise said.

  Margot laughed, knowing that, despite their age, Louise and Harvey lived healthy lifestyles as well.

  “Worse,” Margot said with a wink.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said, kissing Margot on the cheek and then his mom.

  Margot watched him walk down the hall toward his room and found the corners of her lips turning up into a smile.

  If she had to uncover a dead body so close to Christmas, at least she got to do it with Adam by her side. The thought made her laugh, although she covered it with a cough. It wasn’t the sort of thing she’d ever explain to Adam’s mother.

  After Adam got back from his run, showered, and ate a few of the pastries Margot and Louise had made, he led the way back to the SUV with Margot in tow.

  “Are you sure you want to go to the hospital on your first real day of vacation?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked.

  “I baked, didn’t I?”

  “True,” he said with a laugh as he turned the vehicle on and turned up the heat. The temperature seemed to have dropped since the morning and Margot eyed the sky as if it might drop snow any moment.

  “Did you call ahead to make sure we can visit?”

  “Oh.” Adam shook his head and put the car back in park. “Let me do that first.”

  As he called, Margot shot a text to Dexter and Julia. She was interested to see how things had played out between them, but also didn’t want to be the overbearing shop owner to call every few hours—even if the urge was there.

  Julia replied almost instantly that everything was great. Dexter’s text came a few moments later and said something to affect that he hadn’t burned down the bakery yet, with a winky face. She rolled her eyes and replied her thanks to the group text before putting her phone away just in time to hear the end of Adam’s conversation.

  “That’s some bad news. Thanks, Lori, we’ll head over there instead.” He pressed the end button and turned to Margot with a frown.

  “What is it?” she asked anxiously.

  “It looks like once they checked out Fran and got her past the shock, she was arrested.”

  “What?”

  “I know.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb and fingers into his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want to get involved, but Detective Nelson is making it very hard not to.”

  “What should we do?”

  “I think we should go to the police station where they have her and talk with her.”

  “Do you think he’ll let us?”

  Adam weighed the options. “I hope so,” he said with a shrug.

  Adam drove them to the station and parked out front. The wind had picked up and the trees were swaying back and forth. Again Margot thought of an incoming storm and looked to the sky. It was light gray color and made her think that the snow she imagined—and maybe even hoped for—wasn’t as near as she’d thought.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and they left to race up the steps of the old building. Once inside, Margot took in the dark wood paneling and friendly smile of the woman at the small front desk. She directed them to a few chairs against one wall, saying that Detective Nelson would be with them soon.

  Margot could almost feel Adam’s displeasure at this news, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sat down, weaving his fingers together in his lap. As they waited, Margot thought of what they knew of the situation. Fran had been the only one in the shop when they got there. She’d been holding a cast iron skillet in her hand and the man had been dead. Worse than that—if anything could be worse than a dead man on the floor of your bakery—Simon Huxley was a known enemy of Fran. Margot cringed at that. Enemy was possibly too harsh of a word. Rival?

  Even still, the fact that they didn’t get along, while not exactly a motive, was not in Fran’s favor. Then again, what could be the motivation? Surely the town’s bake-off couldn’t be that important.

  “Tell me more about this bake-off,” Margot asked Adam.

  “Well, it started years ago, I don’t even remember when—I was probably a kid. Fran and Simon had been in a few public tiffs. Nothing violent or anything like that,” he rushed to assure her when he saw her surprise, “but enough to where the town council thought they could use it to their advantage.”

  “How so?”

  “They decided to incorporate it in their Christmas festival. It’s odd for a town to do something on Christmas Eve, but they thought it would bring everyone together. Instead of doing a pageant or something, they decided to start a bake-off. Everyone gets one recipe, as we’ve said before, that they make and then submit. The rules are pretty loose for non-professional bakers and there are a few different categories, but mainly, it was for Fran and Simon to duke it out in front of the whole town.”

  Margot’s eyebrows rose. “Seems…intense.”

  “It was all in good fun. The entrance fees cover the prize money and anything left over goes to charity. Though I can�
�t name a year that whoever won, Simon or Fran, didn’t donate their winnings to the charity.”

  Margot imagined the winner holding up a golden spoon and then graciously offering the winnings to the children of an orphanage or something like that. “It sounds like, though they didn’t get along, they were goodhearted people.”

  “Yeah. I mean, that’s why it’s hard for me to believe any scenario where Fran actually hurt Simon—”

  “Well, you’d better start believing it, son.” They both turned toward the voice that spoke over them. Detective Russ Nelson stood there, hands on his hips and a scowl on his rough features.

  “Hello, Detective Nelson,” Adam said, standing.

  Margot stood next to him, glad to be on an equal level with the gruff man. She didn’t like him looking down at them. “Hello again,” she offered.

  “Yes. Right. So you want to see Fran.”

  Margot ground her teeth the way he said the woman’s name. “Yes, if that’s all right?” She hated asking for permission, but she wasn’t here to compete with him in any way. They were just looking into Fran’s wellbeing like she promised Adam’s mother they would.

  “I suppose there’s nothing that says you can’t,” Detective Nelson said.

  Margot was sure that Adam knew the rules behind all of this and that they wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think that they’d get to see the woman, but she still wasn’t sure how much of a power trip the detective would pull on them.

  “Okay, you’ve got fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Margot said, offering a slight smile.

  “Yeah.” He spun around before they could say anything else and stalked down the hallway.

  “You’re welcome,” Adam said under this breath.

  Margot hid her smile at his obvious irritation and then followed him to a doorway where an officer stood, saying he would take them back to Fran’s holding cell. Feeling nervous and not knowing why, Margot followed the officer and Adam to a door that opened up into a small room.