Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set

by Katherine H Brown

  “So, you don’t want to go home with the hotshot out front that pulled strings to pick you up, that’s fine by me sister. Step right back inside, doesn’t bother me.” She waved an arm at the depressing room.

  “Let out?” I asked. I stepped away from the door, putting as much distance between that horrifying room and myself as possible. “No, no mistake. I’m sorry, let’s go, I’ll follow you.” I didn’t care who the hotshot was, didn’t give it a second thought in fact. They were sending me home and nothing else registered in my brain like that one neon flashing piece of information.

  “Shut your trap and come on; I don’t have all day.”

  I resisted the urge to pantomime zipping my lips. Really, I’m in enough trouble, no need to push it.

  “Roll doors,” the old woman yelled at a camera at the end of the hall. The metal doors in front of us clanked open about an inch at a time.

  I all but walked on top of the little woman when I saw the brighter light of the reception area where intakes and releases were processed. I followed my escort to a glass window fitted with a small hole above a tray just big enough to squeeze a small purse or billfold through. I signed my name on the form when asked and accepted my telephone and wallet from the gentleman on the other side.

  I was then shuffled into a short line of men and women heading for a glass door beyond which I could see daylight. It appeared to be very late afternoon; the sun sat low on the horizon. Almost free, almost out, I repeated to myself.

  “Piper!” I heard my name called out the moment my feet hit the concrete steps leading to the parking lot from the building.

  I whipped my head around. There. To the right, Griff bounded toward me two steps at a time. When he reached me, I simply crumpled into his arms. I didn’t know whether I cried from relief that he came to get me or shame that anyone had to pick me up from jail period; either way, tears squeezed through my eyelashes and trickled to my chin before jumping off.

  “Piper, let’s get you out of here,” with a gentle tug at my wrist, Griff led me out to his truck and tucked me safely into the comfy seat.

  I leaned my head back with a sigh, gathering myself. Rubbing my arms, I mentally clicked delete on the images cycling through my head; images of unkempt women, unyielding faces of guards and officers, and unidentifiable substances.

  “What do you want first – a shower or a milkshake?” Griff grinned at me from the driver’s seat.

  I laughed out loud. “Yes.” Warmth spread through my whole body and my heart caught in my throat. Griff knew me better than I knew myself, he anticipated my wants and my need to be distracted from my ordeal. Slow down, I tried to tell my heart. The soft flutter it gave at Griff’s answering laugh signaled there was little chance of my heart obeying.

  Griff drove me to one of my favorite places, Marble Slab Creamery, for a massive milkshake mixed with toppings of sprinkles and Oreos. He ordered while I washed my hands and arms in the hottest water that I could coax out of the bathroom sink.

  “So,” I asked as we headed back to The Cove’s Cabins, “how did you get me out of jail? They never even booked me, but I thought they had to do that before bail could even be posted.”

  “Don’t know,” he said. “You’ll have to ask Sam. She called and told me I had to be there to pick you up and at what time; she didn’t explain a thing. Would you like to paint the picture for me?”

  About an hour later, I stood under scalding water in the little cabin Sam and I shared at The Cove’s Cabins.

  I had explained everything to Griff on the ride back. He had listened without interruption, the only sign of his agitation the tightening of his grip on the steering wheel and the white line forming around his lips as they pulled into a grim line. When I got to the part about Landon running off, he had muttered something too low for me to hear.

  Sam wasn’t at our cabin when we arrived. My cell was dead and Griff had forgotten his in the rush to pick me up. He offered to find her while I got cleaned up. Personally, I felt like I could shower for two days and still not be clean.

  I heard voices and assumed Griff had returned with Sam. I scrubbed myself once more with the loofah. Between the heat and the number of washings, my skin glowed a bright red. Time to get out.

  After I dried with a towel, I braided my hair into tiny French braids and tossed on yoga pants and a t-shirt. I didn’t make it two feet out of the bathroom before Sam launched herself at me. I hugged her back, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what you did, but thank you.”

  “It was nothing,” Sam said as she stepped back.

  “I beg to differ.” I looked around. Griff was seated on the edge of one bunk, hunched forward to avoid hitting his head. The bed looked tiny behind his large frame. Quite an amusing sight if I had time to be amused. “Sam, seriously. How did you get me out? I thought for sure that Officer Grumpy would be arresting you for interference next.”

  “I’m curious as well, oh sister of mine,” Griff raised an eyebrow. “Did you call Dad?”

  I settled cross-legged on the floor; the bunk reminded me too much of the concrete bench sticking out from the wall and I couldn’t bring myself to perch on it. Sam sat down next to me.

  “Did your dad get me out of jail?” I asked, flabbergasted. Sam’s parents didn’t exactly like me so the thought of help from that area shocked me to the core. Guilt began to seep in, too. Would I owe them? Oh well, it would be worth it.

  “No, Dad was in a meeting and wouldn’t take my call.” Sam rolled her eyes but I saw the sting of hurt cross her face.

  “Maybe he had government business,” I offered.

  “It was his weekly golf meeting with buddies,” she spat. “Don’t worry about how I got you out.”

  “Well, now I’m gonna worry,” I insisted. “Did you bribe someone? That’s not like you. Did you use your dad to threaten them anyway?” I sat up straighter. “Did Officer Grumpy find the actual killer?” I asked with hope.

  “No.”

  “Sam.” Griff gave her the big brother look I’d seen him use on her for years. She almost always caved.

  “Fine. I called Mother.”

  I gasped. Griff jerked back and hit his head on the bunk. Rubbing it he asked. “You called our mother? She hates Piper. Why would she help?” He looked at me, “Sorry.”

  “I agree, Sam, why would your mom help me? What could she even do?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know who she called or what took place. I don’t think I want to know the details, but Mother always has influence in high places. It’s her favorite thing about being the wife of the mayor.”

  “Back to the why…,” I prompted.

  “I agreed to a favor,” Sam shrugged.

  A favor. Oh my gosh! Deidra’s going to make Sam quit the bakery. Queasiness bubbled in my stomach.

  “Calm down,” Sam responded to the panic evident on my face. “It isn’t anything horrible. I mean, it isn’t pleasant but I’ll survive.”

  “Sam, tell us what in the world you had to promise Mother,” Griff demanded.

  “Sheesh.” She rolled her shoulders and exhaled. “I have to go with them to next month’s big shindig for all of Dad’s supporters. It will be at the country club, as usual.”

  “Thank goodness!” They both looked at me. “I just mean, that sounds nice and boring and quick. I thought she would have insisted you quit working at the bakery.”

  “I also have to go with a date.”

  “Well, still,” I drew the word out, my tone hopeful.

  Shaking her head, Sam snuffed out my ounce of positivity. “It gets worse.”

  Chapter 20

  “How does it get worse?” I asked.

  “It has to be a date of her choosing,” Sam clarified.

  “Crap,” I said. “Your mom gets to set you up on a blind date? That really sucks.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t leave Piper in jail if those were the terms,” Griff joked.

  I snatched a pillow off the bed behind me and c
hucked it at his face.

  Before Griff could retaliate, loud knocking reverberated through the cabin. He held a hand out for us to stay where we were and answered the door.

  “Is Piper here? Or Sam?” Landon peered around Griff.

  “Come in,” Sam said.

  “Boy, do we need to talk to you.” I nodded at Griff to open the door.

  Landon glanced over his shoulder before following Griff inside the already cramped space. He locked the door behind him. “I need your help.”

  “Not yet you don’t,” Griff remained standing, arms crossed. “You owe everyone some explanations. Piper told me you ran off when the body of the woman was discovered. Why?”

  “I knew her. I worried about the other girls she worked with and I was afraid someone would connect me to her so I left to try and figure some things out.”

  “Why did you come back?” I asked him. My neck pinched from craning my head to look up at the guys; I stood and Sam followed.

  “I heard the police arrested a suspect. I figured it was safe now,” Landon explained.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Sam said. “The police were curious how Piper knew you when they arrested her. They seemed interested in you.”

  Landon balked. “Arrested? What are you talking about? Piper, you were arrested?”

  “Yeah, but Sam got me out, so it’s okay now.”

  Sam grimaced. “Actually, Piper, I don’t know how to tell you this. You aren’t actually cleared yet. When they released you to Griff, they literally released you to his custody. That was the agreement Mother was able to get.”

  “Why? I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Griff cocked his head at Sam and frowned. “Sounds like you left out some details.”

  “They found evidence,” Sam turned to me. “Whatever was in that little canister, the one the deputy picked up when he dumped out the grocery bag before they arrested you? They say it is poison; the same poison that laced the Peanut Butter Pie and killed Arthur Cole.”

  “Wait. The pie was the murder weapon?” Landon’s eyes widened.

  “Yes,” Sam nodded.

  “That’s horrible,” I rubbed my temples. “I can’t believe my dessert was used to kill someone.”

  “It’s worse than that,” Landon said.

  “How?” Griff asked.

  “That pie was meant for me; someone tried to kill me. The only reason Arthur ate it is because we….”

  “Swapped!” I finished. “That’s right. I forgot Arthur wanted Peanut Butter Pie and I told him he would have to trade with someone because there were no more slices.”

  “Who would want to kill you?” Sam asked Landon.

  Chapter 21

  Landon shook his head. One hand on his hip, he ran the other through his sandy hair and pulled in frustration. “I don’t know, at least I don’t know their name. I think I know why though.”

  “Does this have something to do with Coco?” I asked. “With trying to help those women?”

  “How did you know about that?” Landon glanced between me and Sam.

  “We paid BeeBee a visit,” Sam said. “Actually, first we saw you at the massage parlor…” Sam and I took turns explaining how we had gone down the rabbit hole of suspecting Landon ourselves and eventually investigating at the massage parlor.

  Griff looked like he might blow a gasket any minute by the time we finished. “Are you kidding me?” His hands balled into fists at his side and a vein bulged in the crook of his elbow.

  I winced. “I may have left a teensy bit out on the drive home.”

  “You two,” he pointed, “have no business poking around places like that. Or investigating murders; good grief! What were you thinking?”

  “He’s right,” Landon chimed in. “You put yourselves in danger. The people who run Thai Massage are bad people. I think the reason someone killed Coco and wants me dead is because someone in Breaking Chains actually runs the business. At least, that’s what I think. That’s what I went to talk to Coco about last night.”

  Sam walked the two and a half steps it took to get to the back wall and cracked the lone window open. “What?” she raised her arms up. “This cabin is stuffy, the talk of murder and murderers is making me claustrophobic, and we can’t exactly go anywhere else right now.”

  I leaned over and tugged a cooler from the end of the bed. I passed out water bottles then Sam and I sat down on the lid. Landon took the cue and sat on the bunk opposite us. Griff leaned against the bed frame, still looking none too happy.

  “Go on,” I told Landon. “Tell us why you think someone you work with is running these businesses; businesses that your organization actively tries to shut down.”

  As we each listened to Landon’s story, interjecting questions here and there, the shuffling sound at the back window went unnoticed. The shadow that passed over the panes just one more in the long shadows thrown by palms as the sun descended.

  Griff used Sam’s phone to call the main office and rent one of the few remaining cabins for the night before it got too late. Landon, we all decided, would bunk in there with him and try to stay out of sight.

  ~

  By the time we woke, the dining cabin had been cleared for use. The crime scene tape, thank goodness, had been removed and was no nowhere in sight when Sam and I entered in the wee hours. Evidently the popular saying the show must go on also applied to corporate wellness retreats.

  “Where should we start?” Sam asked.

  With both hands fisted at my hips I looked around the kitchen. “Pantry,” I decided. “Let’s dump everything from the pantry first.”

  Sam and I had agreed last night that whatever ingredients remained from the police search we would throw out. Between the poison and the number of people combing ingredients on a hunt for the poison, we refused to take any risks. Everything must go. Griff had already driven into town with a long list to pick up supplies for us.

  “No pancakes for breakfast if Griff doesn’t make it back in time,” Sam said.

  “The eggs in the fridge should be safe. And we have another package of sausage that didn’t get used in scones.”

  “We could do sausage egg muffins and some omelets.”

  “I think that will be perfect,” I agreed as I dropped a can of baking soda into the garbage bag we were dragging through the pantry. “It’s a shame what a waste all of this is. Obviously, the poison had to be put on just that one slice of pie because nobody else got sick.”

  “Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Most of these ingredients are probably perfectly safe.” Sam glanced past my shoulder to the pantry door then said, dropping her voice to a whisper, “How are we going to help Landon clear his name?”

  “You mean since he and Griff told us specifically to stay out of it?” I whispered back. Both men had been adamant that they didn’t want either of us in danger. “And why are we whispering?”

  “I just don’t want anyone to overhear us.”

  “I locked the door,” I told her without whispering. “If anyone is going to come in, they have to have a key and we would hear them first.”

  Sam chuckled. “I guess we don’t have to whisper then. Anyway, we have to do something right? I mean, Landon can’t exactly be out in the open when both the police and a murderer are after him.”

  “True.” We went back to working, lost in thought for a bit. “I know, let’s make a list of the people who most likely had access to poison the pie.”

  “Okay,” Sam dusted her hands on her apron and took the garbage bag from me. “Go get your notebook; I know it’s here somewhere,” she laughed, always finding my list-making obsession both humorous and handy. Tying up the ends of the garbage bag, she hauled it to the back door to be collected later.

  We sat down at the work island. “Let’s start with all of the people who were in the kitchen,” I said.

  “Coco, though it would be strange if she tried to kill Landon when he only tried to help her,” Sam pointed out.

>   “Unless she didn’t want out,” I said, writing Coco at the top of the Pie Poisoner list. “And really, that means we need to put the whole cleaning crew on the list. They were all in the kitchen while we were gone, including Roy’s wife Alice.”

  “I’ll see if I can get the names of the other girls from Alice or Roy,” Sam volunteered. “Speaking of, should we put Roy on the list?”

  “He does have a key.”

  “And he was poking around out back before he came in for dessert. Maybe we stopped him before he cut the power on his first try.”

  “We still don’t have a motive for half of these people.”

  “Is that it though, for the list I mean?”

  “Nope,” I shook my head. “I think we need to add the people at Landon’s table. They would have been closest to the slice of pie itself after it reached Landon.”

  “I hate to be Devil’s advocate,” Sam said, “but we probably need to keep Landon’s name on the list for now. He said he didn’t get along with his boss, he had access to the pie, and it seems odd that he hasn’t cleared things up with Officer Campbell if he’s innocent.”

  “Ha! Like Officer Grumpy would listen to reason. Fine,” I conceded, scribbling away in my notebook. “Landon is on the list, too. I’ll get the names of others seated at his table after breakfast.”

  “Whew, this is exhausting.”

  “We haven’t even started the list for who might have killed Coco…”

  Rattling sounded at the front door, followed by three sharp knocks. Sam and I jumped.

  I put a finger to my lips. Sam nodded. Together, we tiptoed from the kitchen through the dining hall and peered out the corner of a window. I fingered the pocket knife that sat heavy in my cargo pants.

  “Good grief, it’s just Griff,” I whooshed out a breath. When did I get so jumpy?

  Chapter 22

  Breakfast had been a somber occasion. The pancakes and sausage-egg muffins were appreciated, but conversation didn’t flourish as it did yesterday. The little round man who had been consoling the woman on the beach yesterday turned out to be the chaplain for Breaking Chains. During breakfast he stood and spoke kind words over Arthur Cole, encouraging others to come and share stories as well. It turned into a beautiful memorial with a special prayer at the end asking that the police would solve the investigation soon.