by Fiona Grace
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Jennifer said, her professional smile stretching over her teeth in a way that inadvertently made her appear to be baring them. “We don’t pay attention to Yelp reviews.”
“Oh but you must,” Ali continued. “Social media can get really out of hand. Piss off the wrong person, and anything could happen…”
She left her leading statement lingering in the air, hoping Jennifer would fill in the implied blanks herself. It was evident Ali was hinting at the Brandon situation, and if Jennifer left it unspoken, it would look like she’d been living under a rock for these past days.
“Well,” she said, looking thoroughly displeased to have been forced into a corner by Ali. “There was that awful thing recently, wasn’t there? With the food critic being killed.” She tutted. “Someone wasn’t able to take a joke. But as I said before, I try not to pay attention to that sort of thing.”
“Have you read his blog?” Ali pressed. “His reviews were scathing. Hey, come to mention it, he reviewed you here, didn’t he?”
“So I’ve been told,” Jennifer said, looking thoroughly displeased by Ali’s line of questioning. “But I don’t let petty jabs get me down.”
“No, of course,” Ali replied, keeping her tone breezy and conversational. “It’s just hard not to when it directly affects your profit margins. I can’t imagine how damaging it must be to have someone like Brandon Lennox rip into you.”
Piper cast a nervous glance at Ali. She was wringing her hands in her lap and looking like she was ready to bolt for the door any second. Ali herself would rather be anywhere but here in this tense exchange, but there was too much at stake to bottle it now.
“I can assure you our profits will bounce back from this momentary blip,” Jennifer Cliff continued, regaining her professionalism. “And we can certainly afford to buy your macarons on a trial basis if that’s what’s concerning you.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ali said, dialing it back and going along for the ride. “I think we can help each other out tremendously.”
“Of course,” Jennifer continued. “Last I heard, it was Seaside Sweets that was teetering on the brink of financial despair.”
In the seat next to Ali, Piper let out a hiccup of alarm. Opposite her, Jennifer Cliff was maintaining the same cool smile, only her lips were becoming tighter, more snarling.
“Where did you hear that from?” Ali asked, coolly. Jennifer was falling for her ploy hook, line, and sinker.
“Oh, just every store on the boardwalk,” Jennifer said flippantly. “It’s why I find it surprising that you’re trying to make out like you’re doing us a favor.” She snapped her binder shut. “Let me make it very clear that you have fewer options than we do right now.”
Her cutting remarks were in direct contrast to her saccharine voice. Poor Piper looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel from the sheer tension in the room.
“Hmm,” Ali said. “I wonder why people are saying that? Seaside Sweets is turning an excellent profit, and in a very short amount of time. Isn’t that right, Piper?”
“Er—er—” Piper stammered. “That’s right!”
Jennifer looked from one woman to the next. “Now, come on. Ladies. We all know what’s going on here. Your bakery has been commandeered by the police! Everyone thinks you’re murderers! You should be biting my hand off at this opportunity. I may well be offering you the only life jacket on the sinking ship.”
Ali looked at Piper, feigning surprise. “People think we killed Brandon Lennox? Why on earth would they think that?”
“It was your macaron that was poisoned, wasn’t it?” Jennifer Cliff replied.
Ali had to fight to stop herself from smiling triumphantly. Jennifer had just confirmed it. The macaron was poisoned.
“He died in my bakery, that’s right,” Ali said. “But the two of us sitting on this side of the table had nothing to do with killing him.” She waggled her thumb between her and Piper, then drew an imaginary dividing line between them and Jennifer with her finger. “Everyone on this side of the table is as innocent as innocent can be.”
As she gazed at the place where Ali had drawn her imaginary line, dividing her from the “innocent” side of the table, Jennifer’s brown eyes narrowed.
“What, exactly, are you implying?” she said, sounding affronted.
This is it, Ali thought. Now or never…
“I’m saying you were the one who killed him,” she said boldly.
In the seat beside her, Piper let out a little gasp.
“You knew Brandon was heading this way, and you poisoned the macarons when I wasn’t looking to get your own back at him.”
Jennifer looked baffled and offended. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” she began. “And I’d like you to leave. Now.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you confess to what you did,” Ali said.
Jennifer was on her feet now, gesturing to the door. “Leave before I call security.”
She grabbed the door handle and wrenched it down. But as she pulled the door inward, everyone was surprised to discover there was someone standing on the other side.
Detective Callihan.
Ali felt a surge of vindication. If the detective was here to speak to Jennifer, then that could only mean one thing—she was right! She felt a small triumphant smile tug up at the corner of her lips.
Detective Callihan cast his eyes over to Ali. “Miss Sweet, I think you should let me take it from here.” He took his badge from his pocket and held it out for everyone in the room to see.
Jennifer Cliff’s eyes widened. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. She looked straight at Ali.
Ali’s triumphant smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “You’ve been rumbled.”
“Miss Sweet,” Detective Callihan said more forcefully. “I said let me take it from here.”
Still grinning, Ali sat back down into her chair. She’d done her bit. It was time for the cops to get involved now.
She watched Detective Callihan, expecting to see him remove his handcuffs and read Jennifer her rights. Instead, he simply glared at Ali.
“What bit of ‘keep your nose out of it’ do you not understand, Miss Sweet?” he demanded.
She faltered. She’d been expecting him to congratulate her. Instead, he looked annoyed.
“I caught the bad guy,” she said, feeling the grin fall off her face.
“That’s not your place to say,” Detective Callihan barked. “It’s not your job. It’s mine.” He tutted loudly. “Miss Ali Sweet putting her nose in where it’s not welcome. Again.”
Ali felt increasingly uneasy. This was not how she’d been expecting things to go at all. When she’d seen Detective Callihan at the office door, she’d thought it was confirmation her hunch about Jennifer was right. But that confidence was starting to falter now.
“I’m going to have to take all three of you down to the station for questioning,” Detective Callihan announced.
Piper squeaked. Ali’s eyebrows rose with astonishment.
“I’m sorry, what?” she exclaimed.
It was the sort of move Ali expected from Detective Elton, not her kinder counterpart. What had happened to the soft-spoken man who’d treated his whole CSI team to cake and coffee at her bakery a few months ago?
“You heard me,” Detective Callihan said more abruptly. He was starting to look furious now. “I’m not going to untangle this mess here while I’m off duty. I’m going to have to take you to the station.”
Off duty? Ali thought. Then it hit her what was happening. Detective Callihan hadn’t come to La Vie En Rose for the same reason she had—to get a confession out of Jennifer Cliff—he was here … on a date! No wonder he was so crabby.
“Sebastian, that won’t be necessary,” Ali began, but he silenced her by holding a flat-palmed hand toward her face.
“It’s Detective Callihan,” he said coldly. “And I’ll be the one to decide what is and w
hat is not necessary. So are you three going to come with me willingly, or am I going to have to arrest the lot of you?”
The three women glanced at one another, wearing matching expressions of displeasure.
“Seems like we don’t exactly have a choice,” Ali muttered.
This hadn’t turned out how she’d been expecting at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Ali sat with her head in her hands. She’d been in the uncomfortable interrogation room for almost an hour waiting for her chance to explain her side of the story.
Finally, the door opened. But it wasn’t Detective Callihan who entered, it was Detective Elton.
Chills ran through Ali’s spine. Sending in the intimidating woman couldn’t be a good sign. Was she about to be subjected to an intense interrogation?
She straightened up in her chair, swallowing hard, as she tried to mentally prepare herself for what was surely in store.
Detective Elton took the seat opposite and smirked. “Callihan is furious,” she announced.
Ali faltered. That wasn’t the opening gambit she’d been expecting from the formidable detective.
She tipped her head to the side. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Months he’s been trying to get the guts up to date,” Detective Elton continued, conversationally, “And the night he does, you interrupt him!” She shook her head in amusement and something that almost looked like a smile appeared on her face.
Ali was completely taken aback. What was going on here? Was she trying to get her guard down or something, because if so, it was a very strange technique indeed! Better to stick to the whole frozen face, monosyllabic routine; it suited her much better.
“I didn’t even know he was at the restaurant,” Ali said, completely at a loss as to how to respond. “And I was handling it anyway. I was this close to getting Jennifer Cliff to confess.” She held her thumb and index finger up a half inch to iterate the point.
“Sure you were,” Detective Elton said, wryly.
Ali studied her features. She was expecting anger or displeasure to appear on the detective’s face at any moment, in an abrupt switch that would throw her off her guard. Instead, Detective Elton looked almost… congratulatory?
“But you’re not wrong,” she said with finality.
Ali straightened up reflexively, much in the same way Scruff did when anticipating a jumbo bone. “Oh?”
Detective Elton gave her a nod, a small smile on her lips. “Jennifer Cliff has been on our radar since we found Mr. Lennox’s review of her restaurant, and the personal attack on her. We just finished searching her home. Did you know she’s a skilled photographer?”
Ali frowned, not understanding what that had to do with anything. “Um, no.”
“Oh yes, she’s very dedicated to her side hustle,” Detective Elton said. “Has her own dark room and everything, complete with all the chemicals needed to process photographs. Lots of highly toxic, poisonous chemicals, like cyanide.”
Ali gasped. She knew exactly what Detective Elton was attempting to convey. Jennifer Cliff had the means to murder Brandon already lying in her dark room. She barely even had to go out of her way to exact her revenge on him. She had the means, and the motive, all she needed was a way to do it. Someone to frame.
“Callihan’s just finished interviewing your assistant,” Detective Elton continued. “Thanks to her, we can now place Miss Cliff at the scene of the crime. We’ve enough pieces to charge her.”
“So I was right?” Ali exclaimed, feeling excitement bubbling through her.
Detective Elton nodded. “You were right.”
She said it in a way that implied it pained her to admit it, but Ali didn’t care. Her hunch had been correct. She solved the case. She’d been vindicated, and she felt elated.
“How did she do it?” Ali asked, suddenly desperate for every loose end to be tied up that instant. “How did she get the poison into the macarons? And why did she choose to frame me?”
“That’s what Callihan and I will attempt to ascertain when we go back to the interrogation room for round two,” Detective Elton told her. “We understand from your assistant that Jennifer Cliff entered the store while you were out back baking. When Piper served her, she claimed to have a child with allergies, and asked to see the ingredients. Not just a list of them, but the actual packaging. We assume she slipped the cyanide inside one of the packets while Piper was distracted with the next customer.”
Ali thought of that second batch of macarons she’d been baking while she’d left Piper on the till, the one the girl had laid out for her, accidentally mixing in the salt and resulting in them throwing it out. The third batch, they’d worked on together. The whole while, Ali had thought she was being cautious, supervising the whole thing so as not to let any mistakes happen again. But she’d unwittingly been using ingredients laced with poison!
“Why she chose your bakery to frame, we’re not sure yet,” Detective Elton finished.
“Actually, I think I have an idea about that,” Ali said. “Piper worked in Willow Bay last summer, at a popcorn stall. She was so distracted by Brandon on his last visit, she almost burned the place down. And since gossip travels fast among us boardwalk vendors, I’m sure word reached Jennifer about it.”
Detective Elton frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m suggesting that it wasn’t my bakery that Jennifer was framing,” Ali said. “I think it might have been Piper.”
Detective Elton’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. “Because if she can be distracted enough to almost burn down the popcorn stall, she can be distracted enough to accidentally drop something poisonous into the macaron batter? It’s the perfect cover.”
Ali nodded. “Jennifer wanted revenge, and that was the perfect way to cover her tracks.”
Detective Elton seemed fired up by Ali’s theory. She pulled her notebook from the breast pocket of her black leather biker jacket, flipped it open, and began writing quickly.
Ali once again felt vindicated. All her meddling had been worth it. Detective Elton, at least, could see that. Detective Callihan might take more convincing, however, since it was his date she’d spoiled.
“The only thing I don’t get,” Ali continued, “is why Jennifer would poison an entire batch? If we hadn’t served Brandon first, anyone else could have eaten those macarons from the poisoned batch.” She shuddered. “Jennifer could’ve killed significantly more people than just her intended target.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Detective Elton replied, finishing her writing with a flourish and returning her notebook and pen to her pocket.
She seemed positively chipper by this turn of events, but Ali, in contrast, found it sobering. Her store catered to families. Parents. Kids. Innocents. How evil must Jennifer Cliff be to risk ruining so many other people’s lives in order to get revenge on one man? It shouldn’t’ve surprised her, really. The woman had tried to frame Piper and the bakery for her terrible crime as well. She clearly had no morals whatsoever. If she’d thought Donut Guy was a sociopath, he was nothing compared to Jennifer Cliff.
Ali’s triumph at learning the truth faded away. There were no winners. A man was dead at the hands of a spiteful restaurateur. There was nothing to celebrate.
“Am I going to get in trouble for this?” Ali asked. “The murder took place in my bakery. Does that make me liable in some way?”
Detective Elton shook her head. “There aren’t enough grounds to prosecute you. We will have to send a health inspector to your bakery, though, before it can open again. Having ingredients accessible to be tampered with might get you a health breach, but in my experience of these things, you’ll be fine.”
Ali felt her eyebrows rise. “Wait. Does that mean I’m getting my bakery back?”
Detective Elton gave her a stiff nod. “We’ll hold Miss Cliff until the tox report comes back and confirms the cyanide. Keep the pressure on her and see if we can get a confession out of her.
But I’m satisfied with what we’ve found here. Once the health inspector has confirmed there are no trace substances lying around the bakery, and all your ingredients are properly secured, I’ll sign off on your store and it will be released from police custody back into your possession.”
“Really?” Ali asked, feeling a surge of hope rise inside of her, the type that is tinged with desperate anticipation, like a child being told to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. “How do I get an appointment with the health inspector?”
“Funnily enough,” Detective Elton said, “the health department has booked a visit first thing tomorrow morning.” She tapped her nose, indicating she’d had a hand in getting the meeting organized so quickly.
Ali had never felt like hugging Detective Elton before, but she did then. Unlike Detective Callihan, she’d found Ali’s meddling helpful and had paid her back in return.
“So am I off the hook?” Ali asked. “Can I go?”
“You’re free to go, Miss Sweet,” Detective Elton said. She stood and pulled open the door. “Your assistant is waiting for you in reception.”
Ali didn’t hesitate. She leapt up from the seat and hurried for the exit.
As she passed, Detective Elton gave her a nod. “You did good, Miss Sweet.”
Flabbergasted, Ali turned to look at the detective. “I’m sorry, did you just say…”
“I said, scram,” Detective Elton said, with a small smile on her lips. “Before I change my mind.”
With a swell of triumph in her chest, Ali hurried into the corridor.
The interaction was bouncing around in her mind as she headed into the reception area. She was so distracted by the whole thing she didn’t see the woman standing in front of her until it was too late.