Bun for Your Life (15 page)

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Authors: Karoline Barrett

BOOK: Bun for Your Life
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He looked down at the piece of paper and gave me an “are you kidding?” look. “You don't have business cards?”

“Um. Not yet.” It was true that I was planning to get some, so I hadn't lied. Mission accomplished, I pulled away from the stop sign and headed back to the dealership. “So. Let's say I was thinking of trading my Prius for this Mustang. What can you do for me?”

Chapter Fifteen

“Bobby thinks we're with the FBI?” Olivia shrieked at me as soon as I arrived back at the bakery and told her what I'd been up to. “Have you lost your mind?”

I slipped my apron over my head and shrugged. “Or some other crime-fighting organization. It's not entirely my fault. I didn't exactly state we were with the FBI, per se. He assumed.”

She planted her hands on her hips and tilting her head, gaped at me. “Why would he assume that, Molly? I mean, in the world of assumptions, how often do you hear, ‘Hmmm. I bet that woman who owns a bakery is really with the FBI'?”

“I need to get some information about Trey. Bobby was reluctant to help. Once he thought we were working undercover, he was more willing.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “What information?”

“Proof that the Calista Sugar Pink really was on his land; that the land really was stolen by the Danforths.”

She came over to me and laid the back of her hand on my forehead. “You don't have a fever. I was hoping you did and it was making you delirious. Am I missing something? Please tell me why are you obsessed with Calista's murder all of a sudden?”

“If the apple really is his, then he needs to be questioned again. That's a powerful motive for murder. Especially if he has proof, and maybe Calista managed to pay off everyone to ignore it. Or did something else to block his proof. Don't forget she angered him by refusing to marry him.”

“And just who would she pay off, Agent Tyler?”

I glanced at the strawberry shortcake and chocolate graham cupcakes Olivia had apparently just brought out before my arrival, and began placing them in the display case. My stomach grumbled, but I resisted taking one, or three. “I don't know. I'm just trying to help Sean. I'm tired of him questioning me, the bakery attracting people looking for ghosts, people looking at T-shirts they think were used in her murder, and people thinking she was killed right here.”

Olivia worked beside me while she talked. “It hasn't been that bad here. Those kids who wanted to contact Calista's ghost were kind of cute, anyway. I wish they would come by again.” She scowled at me. “What really makes sense is you staying out of it. I don't want you in danger. You're my best friend. I'd be lost if anything happened to you. What if the killer gets wind of your trying to help Sean? He might take you out. And I'm not talking about a date.”

“Thanks, Liv. I feel the same about you, but I'll be fine.”

The bell on the front door jingled. “I'll get it. I need to step away. These smell fantastic.”

She grinned at me. “Thanks! I'm going to start on a batch of apple brown sugar doughnuts in a second.”

“Good choice. They went quickly last time you made them.” I turned my attention to the woman who had just entered. “Hi, welcome to Bread and Batter.”

She took a deep breath. “Yum! I think I died and went to heaven. Smells great in here. My name is Barbara Scott, from Scott Designs. I'm looking for Molly Tyler.”

I held out my hand. “Hi, Barbara. I'm Molly. So glad to meet you.”

Olivia and I had decided to make a few changes in Bread and Batter's decor. Scott Designs had come highly recommended. “Have a seat. Can I get you some tea or coffee?”

She smiled as she slid into one of our booths. “Tea sounds wonderful.”

I made her tea, then plopped a cherry pie cupcake on a plate for her.

“You're wonderful,” she said as I handed her the tea and cupcake. “Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome. Enjoy!”

“Oh, I will. Now, for the reason I'm here.” She pulled design books out of her briefcase and spread them on the table between us. I oohed and aahed and called Olivia over.

A half hour later we had settled on light turquoise and pink for the walls. It would be an improvement on their current blah light gray color. Barbara was also having cute cupcake and bakery signs made that we could hang up. In addition, she thought having
Bread and Batter Bakery
stenciled in red on the wall above the two booths we had would be a wonderful idea. Olivia and I agreed.

When Barbara left, Olivia resumed working on her doughnuts and I began gathering ingredients for sourdough bread and the salted honey butter we offered with it.

“I can't wait for our new look,” Olivia said, whisking together flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Her brow furrowed and she stopped. “I'm still distracted by the investigation. And concerned for you. Did you ever stop to think it might be neither Blake nor Trey?”

It took me a minute to remember what we'd been discussing earlier. “Yes, but you have to admit Trey is the most likely. Who else?”

“I don't know. It's not our job to find out. For my sanity, I don't want to hear any more of this craziness. I don't want to spend my days worried about you, Moll. If you insist on helping the detective, and possibly putting yours and Bobby Crandall's lives in danger, I don't want to hear about it. Just promise me you'll be careful.”

“I'm not putting anyone's life in danger. Bobby's doing a story; how could Trey object to that if it gives him a spotlight? What if the apple really is from his land? Don't worry, I'll be careful.”

“Are you throwing yourself into this make-believe investigation you're running to keep your mind off Brian's engagement? It is make-believe, you know. You're not in charge of any investigation.”

“I know that. And no, I am not doing this to keep my mind off his engagement. I'm not delirious, despite what you think. I don't want him back.”

“I don't mean to sound unsympathetic, but you need to move on. I know you care about Brian, and still love him on and off, but you can't mope around over him forever.”

“I'm not moping. I'm over him and quite content to move on with my life.”

“Okay. I'll take your word for it. Here's an idea. Instead of annoying Detective Corsino, why don't you try romancing him? I bet that would be a whole lot more fun than investigating who murdered Calista. If he can't keep your mind off Brian, no one can. I can think of lots of other things you can do to forget about Brian besides trying to solve a murder. You're not even qualified to solve a murder.”

“Was Nancy Drew qualified?”

“Nancy Drew?” She laughed. “Where did you come up with that one?”

“Sean called me a delusional Nancy Drew. He saw my grandmother's collection of Nancy Drew books that I have.”

“Wow.” She grinned at me. “I forgot you had them. I haven't read her since I was twelve or thirteen. We used to love those old books, didn't we?”

I smiled at the memory of Olivia spending the night and us staying up all night talking and reading my grandmother's books. She would let us take two at a time.

Olivia's grin disappeared. “But you are not Nancy Drew. She's not even real. Nor are you equipped to go around investigating a murder. What are you going to do, interview everyone you think may have done it? You think they're even going to talk to you?”

“Don't be silly. But it must be fascinating, connecting all the dots that finally lead you to the killer. Don't you think?”

She shuddered. “No, I do not. I prefer to stay as far away from murder and dots as possible. Unless it's fiction, because then it's not real. You need to find something else to keep your mind occupied. Sean lives right next door. Really, could that be any more convenient? He's practically in your lap. And I need you here. We're partners, remember? Don't even think about trading your apron for a gun and detective badge.”

“I'm not leaving the bakery, don't worry. But Liv, If I tell you something, will you promise to keep it to yourself?”

“If you have to ask, then I don't know. I've been keeping your secrets since first grade.”

“Sorry, you're right. Sean moved here because his wife was killed in a car accident last year. He didn't want to stay in New York City. He's definitely not looking for a relationship.”

“Oh my God,” said Olivia with a sharp intake of breath. “The poor guy.”

I nodded. “He told me about it when we had our date. He doesn't want to talk about it. I'm only telling you because I tell you everything.”

“I'm glad you did. You know I won't say anything.”

“Hello? Girls? Excuse me? You are open, aren't you? It's Molly and Olivia, correct?”

Olivia and I both jumped at the female voice. I guess we'd both been so involved in our conversation we hadn't heard the door jingle when it opened. I turned to see Enid standing in the middle of the floor. I wondered how much of our conversation she'd heard. I didn't really care about her overhearing my speculations; I just hoped she hadn't heard what I'd said about Sean's wife. I wouldn't want that spread around town.

“Mrs. Middlebrook.” I went around the counter to greet her. “What can I do for you?”

She looked at the case where we displayed our doughnuts and cupcakes. “I believe I'll have four chocolate cupcakes. Are those the ones with the toasted coconut icing?” She pointed to the top shelf.

I nodded. “They are. They've been hugely popular. Emily's ordered some for the talk you're doing the day after tomorrow. Olivia and I will both be there.”

I went back behind the counter and boxed up the cupcakes she wanted. Olivia had come up with that flavor combination, and they were a big hit with everyone who tried them.

Enid smiled as I handed her the box of cupcakes. “Thank you. I certainly hope you'll enjoy it. I plan on talking about Agatha Christie. See you then. Toodle-oo.”

*  *  *

As I pulled up to Dottie's house that evening, I wondered if she'd like to attend Enid's talk about Agatha Christie. I'd been hoping Enid was going to talk about one of her own books, like she had in the past, but just hearing such a famous writer talk about literature would be a thrill. I didn't care if she talked about Little Red Riding Hood. I wondered what she and her son were doing in our little town.

She'd moved in about six months ago and like I said, she mostly kept to herself. I couldn't figure out why she chose Destiny when she could probably afford to go anywhere. Maybe it was the peace and quiet that attracted her. I'm sure she didn't expect murder to be part of her stay here. I wonder if she felt uneasy being here now because of Calista's murder. Maybe I'd have a chance to ask her after her talk.

I got out of the Prius, walked up the steps to Dottie's door, and knocked. It opened a few seconds later.

“Molly, dear! What a surprise. Come in. Brrrr. It's cold out there. I've got a nice fire going in the living room.”

I followed her and stood by the fire. Dottie was right, it was cold out, and the warmth from the fire immediately seeped through my bones.

“Is everything okay? You're not having a problem with the apartment, are you?” she asked

I turned around. “No, it's great. I love it. It feels like home already. I've got all my pictures up, everything put away. I just thought you might be interested in—”

A sharp rap at her front door interrupted me.

“I'm sorry, dear. Just a moment. I don't usually get so many visitors.” Dottie excused herself.

I turned back to the fire, enjoying the beauty and warmth.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Dottie. I need a favor.”

I recognized that voice. Sean.

“Come on in. Molly's here, too,” she said as she came back into the living room. “Well now. Isn't this nice. My two tenants visiting. Why don't you both sit? I'll get us some tea. Sean? Will you have tea with us?”

“Sure, Dottie.” He smiled at her.

“Do you have any more of those oatmeal raisin cookies?” I asked.

She chuckled. “Those are gone, I'm afraid. I do have gingerbread cookies. How about those?”

“If they're anywhere near as good as your oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip ones, bring them on.”

“Coming right up. I'll bring a whole plate.”

“I'll help you,” I told her.

Once we got the tea and the plate of cookies together, we made our way back to the living room and rejoined Sean. Dottie poured for us. It was evident she loved having company. She looked so happy that we were there. Her eyes were bright, and the fragile, papery skin on her cheeks was nice and pink. I loved her cozy living room with the fire going and all the books lining the walls.

“Now. Molly was here first, and girls get to go first anyway,” Dottie said, handing me my cup.

“Thank you. Wednesday night Enid Middlebrook is speaking at Barking Mad Books. I thought you might like to go. She's speaking on Agatha Christie.”

“I'd love to.” She clapped her hands together. “It's so hard not driving anymore. I don't get out like I used to. In the summer, I rode my bike, but I can't do that now. Jane and I used to ride all over together. What time is Enid's program? I'll make sure I'm ready.”

“Seven thirty. I'll pick you up at seven fifteen.”

“Thank you, dear. I really appreciate it. I can't wait.”

“Me too. It should be really good.”

“Now you, young man.” She smiled at Sean. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to leave town for a couple of weeks, Dottie. I'm joining the boys in the department in their team-building exercise while they're in New York City for a few days, then I've got some personal business to wrap up in the city. I'll be back right before Christmas. Would you be able to watch Beau for me? I'll pay you double a day what I do now.”

“Leave town?” I jumped up. “In the middle of a murder investigation? I thought you were staying here. Picking up the slack.”

He shot me a warning look. “I've been asked to teach some classes to the guys. Don't worry, things are covered.”

“By whom?” I demanded, ignoring his look. “You can't leave town. You're supposed to be solving Calista's murder.”

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