Pastries and Puzzles

by Constance Barker

  I was touched that he cared, but I was panicked. When I hung up with Logan, I immediately dialed Clive.

  Chapter 17

  Clive stood waiting on the sidewalk outside the bakery, when I stepped out through the front door. After I told him about the conversation Rose overheard between Oliver and Arthur, we both agreed that a visit to Arthur’s office should be next.

  "Might rattle him enough to give up some information,” Clive said with a devilish grin.

  When we arrived at the office, we were surprised to find the mayor, Marion Lake, there. Marion and Arthur were discussing the event at the hotel and what changes should be made along with the direction for the next event.

  “Maybe we could do this one without the dead body,” Marion joked and Arthur laughed in agreement.

  Arthur was in front of his desk. He stood leaning against it, legs stretched out in front of him, hands curled around the edge of the top. He smiled brightly, his head angled down, eyes focused on Marion.

  Marion sat in a chair in front of the desk. She stared up at Arthur. Her eyes twinkled in delight. Did they have something going on between them? It was fairly disconcerting how friendly they appeared, considering their suspicious behavior.

  Arthur’s secretary wasn’t at her desk, so I assumed she’d gone out to lunch. Since the office door was wide open, I knocked on the outer frame.

  “Knock, knock,” I said.

  Arthur and Marion glanced towards the door, a startled expression on both their faces.

  “Coco, I wasn’t expecting to see you, today,” Arthur said.

  “Clive and I just thought we’d come in and say hi. Hello, Mayor Lake. It’s good to see you. Did I hear right? Were you discussing the murder?” I said the last word in a hushed tone, as though it was a secret between close friends.

  “Yes, we’re trying to plan the next event. We sure wouldn’t want it to turn out like the last one,” the mayor said dryly.

  “It was terrible poor Gilbert was killed,” I agreed.

  “Arthur’s the one who talked him into coming to town to do the seminar. I’d approached him before, but he turned me down cold. Guess that’s how he ended up, too,” Marion said.

  “He really was such a good friend. We’d grown up together, and were so close. As close as brothers. I was thrilled when he’d finally agreed to come back,” Arthur said.

  He paused and an awkward silence ensued. Clive and I shared an uneasy glance.

  “Aww well, I suppose if I hadn’t made all the arrangements for him to be here, he’d still be alive. Oh dear, does that make me an accessory to murder?” Arthur laughed, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Weird.

  He sure didn’t seem like a grieving man who had just lost his best friend. He didn’t appear to be upset in the least.

  “Why did you want Gilbert to come to town, Mayor Lake?” I asked.

  “Honestly, I was hoping he would be a draw. With his headline, more people might be interested in visiting our little town. The tourist industry has been slow lately. I was looking to give it a little pick me up,” she said.

  “I guess it didn’t exactly turn out as you’d planned,” Clive said.

  “It would seem that way, but as it turns out, Gilbert’s death is working just as well to raise the town profile as his seminar. Not every town can claim to be the location of a famous person’s murder,” Marion said.

  They joked like someone hadn’t just been murdered at an event the two of them were involved in. Like someone’s sudden death wasn’t a serious matter. It was serious to me. I didn’t want to be the one to go to prison for it.

  “How often do the two of you work together?” I asked, still trying to get some useful information out of them.

  “We work on most of the big events in town together,” Arthur started.

  Marion’s eyes zoomed in on Clive. “And where might I know you from?”

  “Me? Perhaps, we’ve run into one another at an event or two,” Clive answered.

  Marion stared at him for a moment longer, before her eyes widened. “Aren’t you that reporter?”

  “I’m not sure which reporter you’re referring to,” Clive answered.

  “It is you. You’re the reporter who’s always going undercover and weaseling into people’s lives to uncover dirt. Well, you won’t find any here,” Marion huffed.

  “If you’re suggesting that I go to great lengths to report the truth about things the public has every right to know, then, yes, that would be me.” Clive was unapologetic.

  “This conversation is over. You two need to leave,” Marion demanded.

  She glared at me from the corner of her eye, as Arthur straightened and took a step in our direction. What was he going to do, drag us out on his own?

  “I would be careful who I hang around with, Miss Foster, if I were you,” she said.

  “Is that a threat, Mayor?” Clive interjected.

  “Of course not. It just seems to me that Coco is awfully interested in pursuing this murder. Considering how she’s connected to the death, it might appear as though, perhaps, she’s trying to stall the investigation or lead the police on a wild goose chase. Only a guilty person would do that.”

  “You two need to leave,” Arthur repeated Marion’s earlier statement.

  Clive and I turned and headed out the door. We made it all the way to Daisy in the parking lot before either one of us spoke.

  “That was...interesting,” I said, not sure of a better word to describe the interaction.

  “Do you think they could be working together?” Clive asked.

  “It sure appeared that way to me. If they aren’t, something else is going on with them. I can’t believe neither one of them is even the slightest bit distressed by Gilbert’s death.”

  We got in Daisy and I put the key in the ignition.

  “Thanks for trying to stick up for me back there,” I said.

  “No problem. Marion might be the mayor, but she has no right to threaten you, guilty or not.”

  I wasn’t guilty. I bristled at Clive’s choice of words, but I knew I just plain felt touchy. Starting the car, we headed back towards the bakery.

  Chapter 18

  WHEN WE GOT BACK TO the bakery, I grabbed a red velvet cookie from the case and handed it to Clive.

  “What do I owe you?” he asked.

  “My treat. Consider it a thank you for helping me out with the investigation,” I replied.

  He took a bite and a deep moan escaped from his throat. “This is delicious. How is this place not packed with customers right now?”

  “Oh, you know. People aren’t too keen on buying their baked goods from a murder suspect. Business has been slow since I found the first body. Now that I’m the suspect of the third murder...”

  I shrugged like it wasn’t actually a big deal, even though it was.

  “Wait a minute. Are you saying you’ve been involved with three murders?”

  “Yep. I’ve found three bodies. This is the first time I’ve been considered an actual suspect, though.”

  “I’m not quite sure what to say about that, but I’m glad I’m here to help. I don’t think you’re a killer,” Clive said.

  “Thank you. Actually, since you’re here, would you mind helping me out with something else?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I explained to him about the baking competition, and asked if he would mind taste testing the two cakes and giving me an opinion. He agreed readily.

  The cakes were in the side room I reserved for taste testing for wedding flavors. We obviously weren’t going to need it any time soon, and the kitchen was too crowded to keep them in there.

  I sliced a piece from each cake and set them at one of the tables. I set a glass of milk next to the plates along with a fork.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to make a quick phone call. I’ll leave you here to contemplate,” I said.

  He nodded and smiled, before I turned and headed into the back.
<
br />   Hestia answered on the third ring.

  “Hi Hestia, it’s Coco. I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.”

  “Sure, Coco, what’s going on?” Hestia asked with a hesitation in her voice.

  “You wouldn’t, by any chance, know why the mayor wanted Gilbert in town so badly?”

  “I’m not surprised you found out about that. Mayor Lake wasn’t exactly making it a secret, or anything. She was trying to make a deal with Gilbert. She was offering him sponsorship in exchange for his seminar becoming an annual event in town. He wasn’t interested, though, and turned the Mayor down.”

  “Was she mad that he didn’t accept?” I asked.

  “He’d told her that he didn’t want to be associated with this nowhere town. I’m sure that made her pretty upset.”

  “What about Arthur? What was his friendship with Gilbert like?”

  Hestia’s laugh rang through the receiver. “Arthur wasn’t exactly what I would call a friend. He followed Gilbert around like a puppy dog. He was jealous of Gilbert’s success and angry that he was never able to get out from under Gilbert’s shadow.”

  Hestia’s words solidified my theory that Mayor Lake and Arthur were working together. It made perfect sense. After all, who better to plant poisoned cupcakes at an event than the event manager himself.

  “Thank you so much for your help, Hestia. I truly appreciate it,” I said before hanging up the phone.

  I immediately dialed Logan to let him know what I found out. His phone went straight to voicemail. Leaving a quick message about the threatening letters and the new suspects, I headed back out to the main area of the bakery.

  Clive wasn’t in the tasting room, anymore. Instead, he sat at a table in the main dining area with Vivian and Stella. The three of them had several plates of the contest cakes in front of them, and they were in deep discussion about which one was the best. Stella may have been all business, but I noticed Vivian batting her eyelashes and intently staring down Clive when the fork was in her mouth. I had to stifle a laugh for a second.

  Masie stood behind the counter, arms crossed, watching them intently. Her eyebrows were pulled low over her eyes and her lips were pursed into a tight thin line. She didn’t appear happy by the direction the conversation had taken.

  I walked over and plopped down in the empty seat between Clive and Vivian. Stella sat across from me.

  “Coco, dear, these cakes are divine. I could never pick between the two,” Vivian exclaimed.

  “You just said Masie’s had the better flavor,” Stella chided.

  “Which one do you like Stella?” I asked.

  “Scooter’s is bound to wow the judges. Sorry, Masie, dearie, but Coco needs a winner, if the bakery is going to survive,” Stella answered.

  Masie huffed into the kitchen. The door slammed closed behind her.

  I turned to Clive. “I just spoke to Hestia. She said the mayor was upset with Gilbert for turning down her deal for sponsorship in exchange for annual seminars, and Arthur was jealous of Gilbert’s success.”

  “That does sound fishy, but I forgot to tell you what I found out when I questioned the staff at the hotel,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “It turns out that Hestia had a huge fight with Gilbert the day before the murder. Several people witnessed it. Afterwards, Hestia went to Warner’s office. She was there for quite a long time.”

  Vivian and Stella stared wide eyed at the revelation.

  “It might have been a lover’s quarrel,” Stella suggested.

  “Maybe she was in love with Warner and Gilbert was jealous,” Vivian added.

  “Well, all that does is add to the already jumbled mess of suspects and leads. Too much information isn’t always a good thing.” I sighed, propping an elbow on the table.

  “So, were Hestia and Warner working together, then?” Clive contemplated.

  “Hestia showed me pictures she took the day of the murder. She was at the mini golf park with friends. I never confirmed her story with her friends, though. Perhaps the photographs aren’t concrete proof that she’s innocent.” I dropped my chin into my hand.

  “If you want to get creative with your theory, it’s possible that Hestia had the alibi because she was the more obvious suspect. What if she convinced Warner to do the actual killing? Would he do that for her?” Stella wondered.

  “Come to think of it, for all I know, Hestia and Arthur worked together. Hestia’s letters were written on the same paper Arthur used, for crying out loud.” I massaged my temples with my fingertips.

  Chapter 19

  Something that never failed to soothe me was pastry. Anyone who had ever tried to make pastry—any kind of pastry—would consider that to be a completely insane statement. But still, despite the fact that pastry was unforgiving and needed methodical techniques, it soothed and relaxed me to the point that I was no longer thinking about the murder case, and instead how best to make my pies as flaky and delicious as possible.

  It took patience and care to get pastry just right and for a short while, my mind cleared completely. I was feeling satisfaction rising in me like perfectly kneaded bread when I finally got to the stage of cutting out shapes to gently line buttered pie pans.

  I was actually smiling with satisfaction when I heard the call from the front counter. The comfort I felt in losing myself in the process of baking was slowly waning and transforming into dread and nervousness so I took a clarifying breath and walked out of the back and towards where I was being called.

  I wasn’t even sure when I had gotten so popular. Wasn’t running a bakery in a small town supposed to be a nice, quiet profession?

  When I came out to the counter Maisie turned to me with a wry, cock eyed grin. Her head tilted almost imperceptibly towards Doris, standing not far from her with eyes dark and concerned. I let myself have another sigh.

  “Maisie, do you think you can finish up the pies for me?”

  She winked at me as she turned to head out the back. “Sure thing, Coco. You let me know if you need me for anything else, okay?”

  The nod that I gave her was fairly absent minded as I saved all my attention for Doris. I picked up a spare towel to wipe my hands and tried to smile warmly.

  It didn’t get me far, not that I expected it to. She flicked her eyes to the floor then back up to mine as if she was afraid my expression could wound.

  “Hello, Coco.”

  “Hello, Doris.”

  Her smile widened a little, as if she had gained confidence from my tone. She looked around at the store.

  “You know, you have a very nice store here,” she said. “It must be nice to have your own business.”

  I smiled and gave her a nod.

  “My dad had his own business once,” she said slowly. “But he lost it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, not knowing how else to respond.

  “Anyway, I just came to tell you that my aunt is going to be on the judging panel.” Her eyes tried to meet mine but slipped away again. Her face was a little pensive, as if the news she had to deliver required an apology.

  “My aunt is super into baking. There’s a real science behind it. Adding the exact proportions of the perfect ingredients to get the desired effect. Too much or too little of something, and it will mess up the entire recipe,” Doris said.

  She had a gleam in her eyes. I hadn’t realized she was so passionate about baking.

  “You know, Coco. The committee? They are a very traditional, old fashioned group. You should know that.”

  I bit my lip and tightened my arms together.

  “What do you mean, Doris?” I was trying to handle her with care.

  “Well. She said the Mad Batter would have to have something really impressive on show at the baking competition to be considered for a prize. They don’t want to invite scandal and your business is involved with a murder investigation.” She whispered the last two words with a furtive look, as if murderers might be dangling
from the ceiling.

  I wondered if the bad luck was going to relentlessly seep into every part of my life.

  “My cakes are pretty impressive, Doris.” I stuck my chin out a little. “I don’t need to worry about anything.” I tried to make myself sound as confident as I could, despite the fact that my head was swirling and my stomach was in knots.

  “I just wanted to warn you, Coco.” Her voice fell to a whispered hush. “I don’t want you to be embarrassed.”

  “Nice little place.” She shook her head. “Such a pity it all had to go down like this.”

  I could feel a bubble of anxiety rising in me. I was getting lost for words and I knew that in this circumstance, I could say something I might regret.

  “I heard of Gilbert you know.” Doris spoke almost absently as she looked out the window. My already stressed out heart did a flip.

  “Before he came to town, that is. I didn’t think much of him, even then.”

  This line felt like something weighty and heavy. As if I could grab hold of it and use it like a rolling pin. I wanted to ask her what she was talking about, but at that moment I saw Logan pushing open the shop door, smiling and waving at me.

  I was immediately distracted and my urge to escape Doris came back in a raging flood. I smiled tightly and started to edge around her, my shoulders relaxing with each passing second the closer I got to him.

  “Sorry, Doris. As you can imagine, I’m awfully busy. Thanks for coming by.”

  Doris gave me a half frown as if deciding whether or not to continue warning me. I shuffled around her and headed towards Logan, watching her swiftly leave the shop from the corner of my eye.

  Logan’s smile lifted my spirits immediately. I could feel my own grin rising to meet his without any effort at all.

  “Let’s sit down.” I ushered him to a small table in the corner. “I’ve got something to show you.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows, just a little. “Sounds exciting.”

  “Well, maybe.” I grinned back at him, wondering if I should try to flirt. The business of the letters was too serious though.