One Cup Of Flour Two Cups Of Murder (Winnona Peaks Mysteries Book 2) (7 page)

“Oh, well she won’t let me put my business name on the walls.”  Fiona looked at the ground and made a slight sweeping motion.

“Well, that’s great wainscoting over there on the wall.  Is that original?” Gregory asked.

“Well that part is, but I paid to have that part restored right over there.”   Fiona said, sheepishly as she pointed around the bakery.

“You paid?  Why not Cornelia?  She’s the landlord.  That’s her job.  She should at least trade you out some of the rent for the month.” Gregory said.

“Oh, no.  I pay for everything.  That’s how she wrote up the paperwork.  That’s why I need the prize money so much.  I’ve already used my retirement money for all the improvements and rent and now I need to figure out how to make a profit.”

“Oh, Honey. That’s not how a business works.” Christy said, suddenly calm, and seeing that Fiona barely had her head above water.

“Well, I’m kind of new and trying to figure it out.”  Fiona said, feeling the weight of their pity.  “Here!  You need a free pie!”  She whipped around and reached for an apple pie out of one of the cases that she had left from the day.  She shoved it at Gregory, coming a bit close in the delivery as she almost tripped over her broom and into his arms. She blinked up him with a smile.

“Drinks At Binks needs pie with their coffee.  Tell you what.  You take this free pie and serve it to your guests.  What’s pie without coffee? Then you can order pies from me for a week and see how it goes.  Maybe we could be partners?” Fiona’s hand lingered on Gregory’s as he was forced to take the pie.  Gregory tried not to smile.  Christy stepped closer and raised one eyebrow.

“Well at least let me pay you for it.” Gregory said, reaching into his back pocket. 

Fiona really didn’t have a filter and grabbed his wrist right above his back pocket, smiling. 

Gregory took a step back and gently pulled his wrist free.  He glanced at Christy smiling.  She didn’t think it was as funny as he did.  “All right. Well, thank you.  I’ll consider your offer about being a partner here in town.  It’s hard to own a small business.  We need all the help we can get,” he said with a wink. 

Christy was positive Fiona let out a gasp and she just rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’ve got an early start,” Christy quipped.  “I need to get back home to bed.”

“Yea, I need to get back to the coffee shop and―.” 

“Well, well, well.”  Cornelia and Terrance Westbrook walked in.  Cornelia looked like a cat ready to finish off a mouse she’d been torturing.  Terrance had a sweater crossed over his shoulders and offered the weak smile of someone just stepping off their yacht after an excursion.

“Hello, Mrs. Westbrook.  What can I do for you?” Fiona asked.

Waving an envelope in the evening light she chimed, “You can get out of my bakery.”  The words EVICTED were scrawled in black magic marker.  Fiona could see that the lease agreement inside the envelope had similar lettering.

“But, but―I’ve done everything you’ve asked?  I’ve even made improvements. I’m just one month behind.”

“Ms. Westbrook, this isn’t how eviction works. There has to be notice and—,” Christy tried to explain.

“Oh, mark my words.  You won’t be in business here for long.  Just wait until Winnona Peaks gets a load of what’s down the street,” Terrance said with a yawn and a sly grin.

“Now, Terrance, there’s no need to let the cat out of the bag.  All we have to do here is just a basic rule of business.” Cornelia piped up.

Christy was getting a bad feeling about Cornelia.   “So what is this basic rule of business?” she asked, with her arms crossed.

“Something you know little about, Ms. Roberts.”  Cornelia said with a smile. “To make it big in business, you need to eliminate the competition.  This is just my way of cutting down the number of bakeries fighting for my customers.”  Turning to Fiona she said, “Don’t worry about getting rid of your inventory.  Just get out.”

Gregory shook his head, but he wasn’t a cop anymore and a crooked business owner back in Dallas had already given him the short end of the stick.  He didn’t want to get mixed up in another mess again, even if he did feel sorry for Fiona.

Chapter 14

Cornelia was ready for them. There was no way they were going to pull the wool over her eyes.  She knew that scheming little Fiona planned to steal her grandmother’s bakery right out from under her.  She couldn’t sleep and she’d given Robert, her chauffeur, the night off.  At least Terrance was there at the estate with her so she decided to do some patrolling of the area to check on her properties.  More than once she’d had to call the sheriff to come haul off some vagrant sleeping in the doorways of one of her shops.   She didn’t care what the city said; she didn’t need to improve the buildings just for them to do their job when she called.  It was a good thing she was in the habit of wandering around at night.  She saw that baker from the bake-off and the coffee shop owner drive up from her window. 

“Pull over there, Terrance.”

“Oh, but Grandmother, my show is about to―,” Terrance whined.

“Pull over.  You might learn a thing or two,” she ordered. Luckily, she kept a small folder of urgent legal matters in her attaché.  She was going to have to deal with the Dillard man soon about buying Westbrook Manor and needed to make sure she had all of her affairs in order.   Cornelia suspected that Fiona was up to something from the start. Agreeing to all the terms of that lease without even batting an eye—no business owner is that naïve. Her grandmother taught her to watch everyone like a hawk. Once they know you have something, all the snakes try to slither up the drainpipe and take it away. Cornelia just wished Terrance were taking notes. He seemed to think money came to him from a giant tooth fairy leaving cash under his pillow every night.

Her grandmother taught her to cut off the head of the first viper that comes your way and that will send a warning to the rest of them to keep their mitts off of all your stuff. Cornelia remembered the third bake-off all those years ago. Her grandmother, Nellie, had won the first two rounds and then this “fancy pants” baker from New York started spouting that he had the best lemon tarts this side of the Mississippi.  Well, her grandmother just snuck into his tent after hours and sampled some of his ingredients, figuring out his recipe.  The next day, she had him disqualified, with the help of the Dairy Association in Wisconsin, by accusing him of using a new-fangled margarine that had been recently outlawed.  He swore that it was perfectly legal since he had been importing it from Europe. What that New Yorker did not realize was the Westbrook family was not just
the
premier baking family; Westbrook Road and Westbrook Elementary were all named after prominent mayors and railroad tycoons at the time of Winnona Peaks' inception. Knowing the legacy, and deep pockets, of the Westbrook name, the judges let Grandma Westbrook’s accusation stand and she won a third straight contest.

As Grandmother Westbrook aged, her need to win the contest waned and she shifted into the judging side of the world. She was the gold standard until the day she died and winning a Westbrook medal of distinction was able to make or break the careers of regional pastry chefs in the area.

Cornelia knew the standard. That’s why she followed that insufferable Alexander around the bake-off for so long.  She knew that his big fat nose knew about baking and even if Dr. Freedman was off his walker about Cornelia losing her sense of taste in her old age, she wasn’t going to turn away a gift horse with Alexander being an instructor at Le Cordon Bleu. 

Watching the head nods of Raymond Olson when Alexander was right or the frowns when he was wrong gave Cornelia all the clues she needed to pick the Westbrook medal.  That Lily character had Raymond Olson wrapped around her little finger.  He’d written her up in the Winnona Peaks Chronicle
three
times with one of the articles getting picked up by the syndicated press and appearing in
Pastry Press.

Cornelia was so busy concentrating on who was the best in the contest that she didn’t have time to pay attention to this little snit that was obviously trying to take over her grandmother’s legacy. 
Well, she just had to nip that in the bud.
  She brought Terrance along so he would see how a real businesswoman acted.  She thought about leaving Fiona there with the paperwork in her hand, but changed her mind. Spinning around right inside the doorway she turned.

“Well, what are you standing here for?  Get out!” Cornelia yelled at Fiona.

Fiona fought back the tears, looking at the printed lease agreement with “EVICTED” scrawled in big black magic marker.  “What?  What is this? I’ve made all the improvements.  I’m only one month behind on my―.”

“Out!  Read the fine print.  I have the right to kick you out any time I want and that’s now.”

Christy frowned and came over by Fiona to look at the piece of paper in her hand. “Miss Westbrook, this isn’t how an eviction works.  There has to be notice and―.”

“Oh, what do you know?  You’re just a baker.  This is exactly how it works.  Get out by tomorrow, Missy.”  Cornelia squinted again and wagged her finger at Fiona.  Fiona wiped a tear from her eye and looked apologetically between Christy and Gregory.

“She’s done this once a month since I’ve been here. It’s always right before she goes to bed. She’s just never scribbled it on the lease agreement before.”

“I’m the landlord.  I know my rights.”  Cornelia snarled at Gregory and Christy.  “This is my property and I’m going to restore Westbrook Pastries. That means you have to go.  Don’t bother clearing out your inventory.  In a day, my bakers will have this place humming with the best baked goods Westbrook has ever known.”

Christy was just watching the spectacle.  Fiona started talking over the top of Cornelia who started circling the room snatching knick-knacks into her bosom and holding onto them for dear life.

“She starts talking about her grandmother and the bakery once or twice a week.  Most of the time, I just stop my sweeping and listen.  She tells me what it was all like.  She was excited when I first approached her.  I told her I was willing to restore the space to just like it was when her grandmother was here.  We would go down to the tile store together.  She even picked out the paint color.” Fiona’s bottom lip was trembling.

“Oh, quit your sniveling.  I know my rights.  You get out by tomorrow.  I have the best bakers in the country coming and we’re opening in the morning as Westbrook Pastries!”  Cornelia waddled with her clutched knick-knacks and tried to herd them all out the front door.

“Who are these bakers that are coming in the morning?  Everyone is at the bake-off,” Christy asked.

Cornelia’s eyes narrowed.  “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t trick me, Missy,” she said, waving a finger and a knickknack at Christy.  “You’re in cahoots with him and your sister, Vanessa.  You all won’t be satisfied until you’ve destroyed my family name and the pastry shop my grandmother built with her own two hands! You know what?”  Cornelia spun around to Fiona.  “Just get out NOW!”

“What?”  Fiona was dumbfounded.

“You heard me.  Get out now.  The lease agreement says that you forfeit the right to the space the first day you miss your rent payment.”

“But tomorrow is the championship!  I told you I was going to use the prize money to upgrade your ovens for you.  I’m remodeling this front area!”

“Just pick up what you can and get out or I’m calling the sheriff to evict you tonight!” 

Fiona dropped the broom and ran to the back to pack what she could.  Christy went to the back to help her.  Gregory tried again.  “Miss Westbrook, this is totally―”

“Are you telling me I’m not within my rights?”

“No Ma’am.  It’s just not the decent thing to do.  The law was written to make us better people, not to be a weapon.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you just love it if I fell for whatever you three are scheming against me.  Mark my words, I can smell a snake a mile away and you, Mr. Binks, are a snake.  There’s no way that someone can open a coffee shop and get that many customers that fast.  I don’t know how you did it, but there’s no way I’m letting you get your hooks in my grandmother’s bakery.”

“I’m going to help Fiona pack tonight, but this isn’t over,” he warned. 

Cornelia watched them all pack a few boxes of ingredients and cooking utensils before heading out the door.  She did stop Fiona once to inspect the box.  She was on to them and she wasn’t about to let them steal from her anymore.   As they exited the building, Cornelia relaxed just a touch and put the knick-knacks back on the counter.  “Of course this isn’t over Mr. Binks,” she mumbled to herself, “We’re opening tomorrow.  We’ve only just begun.”

“It’s going to be great, Grandmother.  You’ll see. It’s going to be great,” Terrance proclaimed, buttering his grandmother up.