A Catered Christmas Killer (A Sinful Sweets Cozy Mystery) (13 page)

BOOK: A Catered Christmas Killer (A Sinful Sweets Cozy Mystery)
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“Send me the bill. I’ll put it under maintenance costs,” I laughed.

 

“I’ll remember that you said that. Later.” Lizzie grabbed her purse and left.

 

I took Mark’s money. “Do you need any napkins or plates for the party?”

 

“Not this time, thanks. This cast party is totally funded by the FCF bank and will be off the hook. George’s son is the lead and so there has been no expense spared. Having a father who is the bank president helps sometimes, I guess.”

 

“I’d say so. Hope it goes well.”

 

“We’ll see! See you,” he nodded as he pushed the door open with his elbow.

 

A while later my cell rang and I didn’t recognize the number. I didn’t plan to pick it up, but at the last second, I did.

 

“Hello, may I speak with Ms. Bailey, please,” said the man’s voice.

 

“This is she.” I waited.

 

“I am Jared Eaton, Ms. Rachel Whey’s personal assistant. I am calling to confirm that we are meeting at ten this morning at the Dessert First bakery.”

 

“I am expecting Ms. Whey this morning,” I confirmed.

 

“Very good. I shall be there a quarter hour before to make any adjustments before Ms. Whey arrives.”

 

“Excuse me? What adjustments do you think you may need?”

 

“I’m not at all sure, but I always arrive prior to Ms. Whey to make sure that the space meets her needs. I will speak to you soon, Ms. Bailey,” and with that, he hung up.

 

I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. She’d be here only for a weekend. Forty-eight hours. I could handle forty-eight hours, right? I wondered what Jared was like in person. He spoke like he should have a British accent, but he didn’t.

 

Jingling bells told me that someone else had arrived. I looked at the clock above the back door and saw that it was only eight fifteen. It wasn’t Jared.

 

“Good morning,” I called as I moved to the counter.

 

Millie Redmond, the wife of the District Attorney stood silently at the counter, smiling. “Hi Millie, coffee? No Abe this morning?”

 

She shook her head and I moved to make her coffee. Millie had known me for about a year and still seemed extremely shy. Usually her husband did all of the talking for her. She rarely came into the shop by herself.

 

“Everything okay, Millie?” I asked. She usually would have at least greeted by now.

 

“Yes,” came the whisper-like voice. “I just wanted you to know that I think it’s too bad that you aren’t able to bake the carnival cake for the celebration this year. You have been so wonderful to all of us in town and I think the Council is crazy. That’s all.”

 

My surprise at her saying so many words at once made me almost miss what she actually said, but when it all sunk in, I really felt touched that she thought so highly of me. “Thanks, Millie. That means so much to me. Really, it means more than you know. At least she’ll only be here for forty-eight hours, right?”

 

Millie smiled and padded silently to the door. I stood staring after her thinking about what a huge effort that must’ve been and it made me feel very wanted. The warm and fuzzy feeling disappeared as the door opened and in came Richard Hubbard, the Town Council Vice President.

 

“Good morning, Ms. Bailey. Nice day today,” he said, completely unaware that I was disappointed in his cake making decision.

 

“Good morning. It is a nice day. What can I get for you, Mr. Hubbard?” I asked, keeping my personal feelings outside of my business attitude.

 

“Coffee with cream and sweetener instead of sugar, please.”

 

I grabbed the cup and moved to the urns to pour his coffee. I could feel him watching me.

 

“I hope you don’t have any hard feelings about your role in the Fourth of July Celebration. We, the Council, never intended to slight you in any way, but the opportunity for the Town needs to outweigh our feelings for your delicious cake.”

 

“Well, at least you thought my cake was delicious. That’s a start,” I said as I handed him his coffee.

 

“Oh yes! It was amazing,” he said with a smile, looking a bit relieved.

 

He didn’t usually come into the bakery, so I didn’t know him well, but he seemed sincere enough with all that he said and I did appreciate the visit to talk with me. Small town.

 

“Thank you so much for coming in to speak with me, Mr. Hubbard. It means a great deal to me.”

 

“It’s Richard. Call me Richard, please.”

 

“Well, Richard. It was nice to chat with you this morning and I hope you’ll come in again soon. Coffee is on the house.”

 

“Oh, well. Thank you,” he said with surprise and popped some bills into the tip jar.

 

“Thank you for stopping in,” I said again. “Maybe I’ll whip something special up for the Labor Day picnic this year instead.” The thought just popped into my head, but it could be so much fun to decorate a cake for a picnic—complete with candy ants and checkered blanket.

 

“That’s a fabulous idea. A new tradition in the making. I’ll pass it along to the Council.”

 

I smiled and waved at him as he left.

 

 

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