A Flair for Beignets (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 3)

by Deborah Garner

  “Coco!” Sadie shouted, rushing to take the Yorkie from the officer. Coco showed equal enthusiasm, reaching for Sadie at first sight and covering her face with sloppy kisses once firmly secure in Sadie’s arms.

  “How? What?” Sadie had dozens of questions but found herself lacking the ability to verbalize them. All she wanted to do was hug Coco tight. Coco obviously reciprocated the feelings, as she cradled her petite canine head against Sadie’s neck.

  “Why don’t you two relax a minute while I talk to the officers,” Broussard said. “I’ll be right back to explain what happened.”

  Sadie nodded, not taking her eyes off Coco for even a split second. Broussard left Sadie and Coco to rest and stepped outside the door. A muffled conversation ensued, of which Sadie heard not a word. Cuddling Coco was far more important.

  After a few minutes, Broussard and the officers stepped back inside the room.

  “Ms. Kramer,” Broussard began, only to be stopped by Sadie.

  “Just call me Sadie.”

  “All right,” Broussard agreed. “Sadie, you must have questions.”

  “Well,” Sadie said, realizing she had calmed down enough to gather her thoughts. “Yes, I do. Aside from the obvious—who took Coco, and why—I’m wondering how you got here so quickly. I’d barely started speaking to that woman on the phone…”

  “The dispatcher,” Broussard clarified. “She takes calls and relays them to us or to whichever department is appropriate.”

  Sadie nodded, wondering what this tidbit of information had to do with her question. “How is it you were here almost immediately? Or maybe it was immediately?” Suddenly she felt nervous again. Was something wrong with the whole picture? Could she not even trust the police? Again, nothing made sense. Broussard must have picked up on her confused thoughts, as he spoke to reassure her.

  “We were already here, at least in a sense.”

  Sadie frowned. “Not to be repetitive, but that makes no sense.”

  “We witnessed the crime take place, so we were here before you called the station.”

  “Then why did I even have to call the station?” Sadie asked. “And how did you even know to be here in order to witness the crime?”

  “I’m not explaining this well,” Broussard said. “We witnessed the crime through the webcam that we’ve had trained on your door. We’ve been prepared to rush here since we installed the camera, hoping to catch whoever is behind this.”

  “So you caught him?” Sadie said, overlooking the comment about the camera. “You must have since you brought Coco back.” She gave Coco a kiss on the top of her head and then wiped her mouth. The effects of the shower she’d given Coco recently had been erased by the dog’s recent activity.

  “Not exactly,” Broussard admitted.

  Sadie was trying to follow, but so far the story was confusing.

  “The culprit fled into the alley and was in the process of removing the dog from the kennel when we called out for him to freeze.”

  “Then you did catch him,” Sadie said.

  Broussard shook his head. “No, unfortunately. The culprit dropped the kennel and took off on a bicycle that was parked by the alley fence. We think he planned to take the dog with him on the bike but panicked when we called out.”

  “We went in pursuit, but being on foot is no match for a bike,” one of the officers said.

  “There was no way to know the person had a bike stashed in the alley,” Broussard said. “We did get a brief look at the bike, so we’ll try to track that down. But it’s a weak lead.”

  “Did you get a look at the person?” Sadie said, hoping at least they had a description.

  Again, Broussard shook his head. “I wish we had. All we know is that the person was of medium height, wearing dark clothes and a hooded jacket or sweatshirt.”

  “Not much to go on,” Sadie said.

  “No,” Broussard admitted. “But the hotel may have a security camera for the back alley. We’ll find out.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said. Still overwhelmed with relief that Coco’s dognapping had been foiled, she only half followed the conversation.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll stay on top of this,” Broussard said. “If this is all tied in with Mimi Arnaud’s murder, finding the person who tried to kidnap your dog tonight may lead us straight to the killer.”

  Somehow Sadie did not find that reassuring, as it implied the killer had been in her room. Twice, even, if the whipped cream episode was pulled off by the same person.

  “Why don’t you try to rest now,” Broussard said. “That person isn’t going to come back, knowing we arrived that quickly. He or she will know we have surveillance on your room.”

  “Relaxing does sound like a good idea,” Sadie said. “I suddenly feel exhausted.” She walked the detective and policemen to the door. Coco leaned sideways, sniffing the foil-covered plate that Sadie had set by the door.

  “Thank you,” Sadie said. She started to close the door but called Broussard back one more time. “Surveillance? You mean, like a camera? Where?” She twisted her head from side to side. Coco did the same, mimicking her movements.

  Broussard looked around, as if pretending not to know, and then glanced around the courtyard. He turned back to Sadie. “We have our ways.”

  “I see,” Sadie said.

  Broussard smiled and tipped an imaginary hat. “Good night.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sadie twitched her nose to stifle a sneeze and then exhaled sharply, hoping to blow a tuft of fur out of her face.

  Coco stirred upon feeling the burst of air but then settled back into the comfortable position she’d assumed the night before: upside down on Sadie’s chest, three legs sticking up in the air, and the fourth resting against Sadie’s face.

  Multiple attempts late the previous evening had failed to convince Coco to enter her damaged kennel. Stubbornly she’d refused to have anything to do with the mangled mess that had been her travel palace. She even batted Sadie’s hands away when she attempted to help her inside, which was highly out of character for her refined personality.

  Sadie understood. Coco had her pride, after all, and the condition of the former housing known as a travel palace was poor by any standards, human or canine. The metal siding was dented, the silk interior lining was torn, and the velvet pillow was embedded with dirt and gravel. Perhaps worst of all, the china dishes were smashed to bits. Coco had been especially fond of those bowls, and Sadie doubted she’d be able to replace them with the same pattern.

  “Coco,” Sadie said. “You need to let me up. We can’t sleep all morning.”

  Coco stretched, giving Sadie hope that she’d be able to slide out of bed and at least search out a cup of coffee. Instead, Coco rolled over on her stomach, draping her two front legs over one side of Sadie’s body and her two back legs over the other.

  “Sorry, my dear,” Sadie said as she scooped Coco up off her chest and set her on the bed. “As pleasant as it was having your fur in my face all night, I’m determined to find some caffeine now. You can sleep later.” She watched Coco roll onto her back and wiggle back and forth happily, which brought up a disturbing question: Would the Yorkie ever be content now sleeping on anything other than six-hundred-thread-count Egyptian sheets? Would replacing the velvet pillow not be enough? Perhaps Sadie would have to provide both.

  Setting aside the predicament of Coco’s housing, Sadie turned her mind to more pressing matters. She hadn’t heard from Clotile since meeting her at Bluette’s the day before. That didn’t surprise her. Clotile was well aware of Sadie’s distrust now. It came as no surprise that she hadn’t received a text about meeting for breakfast, as had been Clotile’s habit on other mornings. And Sadie wasn’t about to contact her.

  Looking through the remaining outfits she’d yet to wear, Sadie chose red jean-style pants and a red-and-white-striped blouse. Adding a chunky necklace that she’d picked up years ago at an art fair, she brushed her hair back from her face and duste
d it with a quick spritz of hair spray.

  “I need to find some crawfish earrings,” she said to Coco. “Or something symbolic of New Orleans to take back with me.” Lacking anything of that description at the moment, she rummaged through the jewelry she’d brought and clipped on a pair of dangling red pom-poms.

  “Coffee, Coco. Let’s go on a coffee hunt.”

  Less enthused than Sadie about leaving the luxurious bedding, Coco still allowed herself to be scooped up and placed in the tote bag. At least that hadn’t changed since the day before, Sadie thought with relief. Coco did seem to enjoy traveling even if only for a few blocks. There was always a chance of something new to see or smell or, if lucky, to eat.

  Sadie locked the room carefully though the thought crossed her mind to wonder why. Based on recent events, her hotel suite was hardly a secure fortress. It seemed easy enough for people to get in. At least Detective Broussard and his officers had a good eye on the place. She looked inside her bag and patted Coco’s head, grateful that the police had quickly stopped the dognapping episode.

  Heading up to the cluster of shops along Bourbon Street, Sadie specifically avoided the side of the street Bluette’s was on, unsure if Clotile would be at the café that morning. Whether the woman would be by herself or seated with others, she wasn’t in the mood for more complications. There was enough she already hadn’t figured out.

  The lure of fresh-brewed coffee came close to pulling her into several doorways, yet she kept walking. In spite of her intentions to stay away from Bluette’s, she soon found herself on the same block. She was about to duck inside a hole-in-the-wall coffee place when she heard her name called out.

  “Sadie? It’s Sadie, right?”

  Looking around, she spotted Lisette sweeping the sidewalk in front of Chez Lisette Patisserie. Delighted to see her out and about, Sadie walked over to say hello.

  “Yes, it’s Sadie,” she said, reaching out to shake hands with Lisette. “Are you open again?” Sadie surveyed the front of the bakery, noting a closed doorway and the absence of lights. “Ah, I guess not. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Lisette said. “I’m getting ready to open the day after tomorrow. It’s just taken some time to clean up.”

  “I can imagine,” Sadie said. “I came by while the police were here the other day. They were doing a thorough job going through everything. I’m sure that left a mess.”

  “Yes, and when they finished, all those supplies had to be thrown out,” Lisette said.

  Sadie picked up on a tinge of discouragement in the bakery owner’s voice, but overall she seemed ready to put Mimi Arnaud’s awful demise behind her and to go forward with business.

  “Come on in,” Lisette said.

  “But you’re not open.” Sadie glanced at a Closed sign in the window.

  “No, but I do have coffee brewing. I’m not about to do all this work without caffeine,” Lisette said. “I don’t have anything to go with it since Julien doesn’t start back until tomorrow.”

  “Just coffee sounds great,” Sadie said, realizing she had yet to even partially caffeinate herself. Admittedly, one of Lisette’s beignets would have been fabulous with the cup of java, but she’d just have to wait until the bakery reopened.

  “Wow,” Sadie said as she followed Lisette. “Your place looks immaculate!” Tables and chairs sat neatly stacked on one side of the room. The floor had been buffed and polished to a perfect shine. The display cases were so clean they appeared to be brand-new.

  At Lisette’s direction, Sadie followed her to the back. The area was just as impressive as the front. Shelves stood empty yet scrubbed down and ready to hold new supplies. Cases of ingredients rested unopened along the wall. And the work area floor itself was polished to perfection.

  “Neat and clean, just like the front,” Sadie observed.

  “Now, that took some doing, I’ll tell you,” Lisette said. She leaned the broom against a wall and poured Sadie a mug of freshly brewed coffee. “I don’t know what the police did back here when they tested the ingredients. There was flour everywhere! It was such a mess!”

  Sadie cleared her throat nervously and then took a sip of coffee.

  “Anyway, it’s finally cleaned up,” Lisette continued. “Julien will organize the supplies tomorrow to prepare for baking tomorrow night. I’ll set up the front and get the display cases ready to fill. Thank goodness the police released Julien right after questioning him. I could never get this place open on my own. Good pastry chefs are hard to find too.”

  “Are you nervous about reopening after… everything that happened?” Sadie asked, hoping she didn’t sound intrusive.

  “Yes and no,” Lisette admitted. “I know there will be questions, and I expect business to be down even though we’ve been cleared.”

  Sadie nodded, understanding. “I noticed it’s been busy across the street. That must be tough to watch.”

  “Over at Bluette’s place? I don’t mind that at all,” Lisette said. “I’m happy to see her get some extra business.”

  “You are?” Sadie said, quickly realizing how abrupt that sounded. “I mean…”

  Lisette laughed. “I know what you mean. Everyone thinks we’re in competition with each other, but we really aren’t. We’ve known each other since grade school. We’re friends. If there’s any competition, it’s friendly competition. What one business does helps the other.”

  Sadie thought that over. It was true with her fashion boutique business too. She often sent customers to other shops, and they sent customers to her, as well.

  “I know it will take time to build up our clientele again,” Lisette continued. “That part will be a challenge. But it also feels like a new beginning, with everything spick-and-span.”

  “Makes sense,” Sadie said. “I’m glad we’ll still be here in town to see you reopen. We go back to San Francisco the next day.”

  “We?” Lisette said.

  A timely yip came from the tote bag.

  “Ah, yes, of course.” Lisette laughed. “Would you like to let her out?”

  Sadie eyed a sack of flour against the wall. “Thanks, but I’d better not. She can be a little wild at times. Doesn’t always understand the word no.” A tiny snort that only Sadie could hear followed that statement.

  “Oh, you haven’t happened to hear from Clotile, have you?” Lisette said. “I haven’t heard from her while we’ve been closed. I hope she’s okay.”

  The subject change took Sadie by surprise. She certainly wasn’t going to fill Lisette in on recent developments, especially when she wasn’t even sure which parts of Clotile’s story were true and which weren’t.

  “Not today,” Sadie said, avoiding a more detailed response. “But if I hear from her, I’ll tell her you asked about her.” She finished her coffee and looked around for a place to put the mug.

  “Thanks,” Lisette said, taking the mug and putting it in a side sink. “I’m sure she’ll be at the reopening.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Sadie said. “She’ll be here.” Or maybe not, she added to herself before continuing. “I’ll let you get back to work. I can tell Coco is getting restless. I’d better take her for a walk. Thanks so much for the coffee.”

  “Anytime,” Lisette said as she picked up the broom she’d set aside earlier. “And the day after tomorrow you can have beignets with it.”

  “That’s a deal,” Sadie said.

  Once outside, Sadie attached Coco’s rhinestone leash to her matching collar and started the walk back to the hotel. She hadn’t learned much, but she’d picked up a few bits of information. A trip to see Detective Broussard was in order.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sadie waited patiently in the reception area of the police station while the desk clerk summoned Detective Broussard. When Broussard emerged from the back, he invited Sadie to his office. He closed the door while she took a seat.

  “You wanted to see me,” he said, stating the obvious. After all, she’d been the on
e to call and ask to stop by.

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “I was just at Chez Lisette Patisserie. They’re reopening the day after tomorrow. Isn’t that fabulous? I’m just dying for one of her beignets.”

  “Probably not the best choice of words,” Broussard suggested.

  “Oh!” Sadie said, wishing she could take the words back. “No, I guess not. I wasn’t thinking. Anyway, that’s not what I came to tell you.”

  “I was hoping there might be more,” Broussard said.

  Sadie nodded. “There is. Lisette and I got to talking about Bluette’s Beignets. You know the bakery across the street where we met the other day.”

  “Go on,” Broussard said.

  “The topic of competition came up,” Sadie said. “After all, they’re right across the street from each other. I’m sure you’ve considered competition as a motive.”

  “Only mildly,” Broussard said. “It’s not a strong motive for something as extreme as murder. There are less drastic ways to attract business from a competitive company.”

  “True,” Sadie said. “But I thought you’d want to know Lisette made it very clear the competition between them is friendly. It turns out they’ve known each other since grade school.”

  “Well, that clears that up then,” Broussard said, smiling.

  Sadie huffed. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

  “I assure you I am,” Broussard said. “Every potential motive has to be considered, no matter how unlikely it might be. We do ourselves a disservice if we write something off as not important before making sure it isn’t.”

  “Well, now you know for sure that competition isn’t a factor,” Sadie said, certain she’d done a great service to the police by discovering the rivalry between the two was more for show than anything else.