The Mud Pie Murderess: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery (2 page)

I
shot
to the front of the bakery so quickly I felt like I had teleported there. I didn't even remember pushing through the doors, I just remember standing in the middle of the bakery, looking down at the body lying on the floor and feeling like the entire world had stopped spinning.

"She...she's dead," Chloe said.

The lifeless body of the woman with the grey hair and the pearls lay on the floor while the sound of an ambulance siren grew nearer. One of her friends was kneeling next to the body, sobbing, while the rest stood back in silence. The man in the red sweater who had been with the group was nowhere in sight.

I took a step backwards and banged into Chloe, but I barely registered it. A million thoughts were swimming in my head, struggling to make their way to the surface. But one seemed to break through stronger than the rest.

My first loud thought was:
Did the paint do this?

I stared at the freshly painted purple and white walls and brought my hands to my face. "Oh my goodness, I knew we should have stayed closed for another day." I caught my reflection and saw that I was paler than the white on the walls.

I looked down at the body and felt like I might pass out. "I need some fresh air."

Chloe hurried after me as I burst onto the street where rain was falling. "Chloe, I killed her," I whispered.

Chloe's blue eyes grew wide. "How?" she asked. "You weren't even in the room."

"The paint fumes," I whispered. I glanced out the window and saw an ambulance arrive with a police car right behind it.

"I called them," Chloe said. I gulped when I saw the police car. I knew who would be in it.

The paramedics entered the bakery and took away the body, but I barely registered it happening. My thoughts and senses were frozen with guilt and time seemed to be moving at a pace that was both fast and slow at the same time.

What was going to happen to me? I'd be sentenced with manslaughter, negligence... What was the sentence for that? Five years in prison? I looked back at my bakery over my shoulder.
It was nice to know you.
The place would go under. No one would want to eat in a place where a woman had died from inhaling paint fumes.

"We have to speak the police," I whispered.

"I'll do it," Chloe said quickly. "I was the one who saw it."

"No," I said, looking at Detective Jackson Whitaker. "I have to be the one to do it."

* * *

J
ackson handed
me a cup of tea as I settled across from him in the interrogation room down at the precinct.

"I'll confess to everything," I murmured, gripping my hands around the paper cup as Jackson pulled a pen out of his breast pocket.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, flummoxed.

"I did it," I said flatly. "I had the bakery painted, and now she... I'm sorry, what is her name? Is dead."

"Olive," Jackson answered. "Olive Styles."

"Olive," I whispered her name. "I can't believe I killed her."

Jackson was just staring at me. "Rachael, I know you are in shock right now, but you should be very careful before you go admitting to things like this." He looked at me sternly. "Please take my advice on this. I know what I'm talking about." He shook his head.

"But the paint..."

"What is all this about the paint?" he asked. "You're talking gibberish."

"I had the bakery painted!" I exclaimed, like it was him, not me, that was talking gibberish. "And the fumes killed Olive Styles."

Jackson blinked a few times. "That woman did not die from inhaling paint fumes. Otherwise, we'd all be dead. Including you."

"But...but she was old," I said, confused. "So they affected her more."

Jackson cleared his throat and took a long drink of water from a glass that had been sitting on the desk. "I think you might have inhaled more than your fair share of paint fumes, the way you are talking."

That would make sense. I had been falling asleep at my desk, and getting headaches, but I still wasn't sure what he was saying.

"Olive Styles was poisoned, Rachael. And not by paint fumes."

I leaned forward a bit and stared at him. "Wait, so I'm actually innocent? Is that what you're saying?"

He held my gaze for a long time.

"No, no one is saying that, Rachael."

* * *

I
was surprised
to find Chloe still at the bakery when I returned. Even though the front was sealed off as a crime scene, there was still access to the kitchen and office and I returned to find Chloe frantically cleaning benches and packing away stock. "I just wanted to do...something," she said helplessly.

"It's okay, you should go home," I said.

"Rachael, I'm so sorry." She put her dishcloth down and looked at me with her watery blue eyes. She'd clearly been crying.

"Nonsense," I said quickly, wanting to make her feel better. "It wasn't your fault."

"But I was in charge when it happened. You trusted me, and this happened on my watch."

But all I could think about was the conversation I'd just had with Jackson. My thoughts combed through each word we had spoken:

"Rachael, you know how bad this looks for you. A woman eats your pie, at your bakery, and dies five minutes later. Poisoned."

"Of course I do," I'd snapped. "But you can't seriously believe I had anything to do with it, do you?"

"Don't leave town, Rachael."

"I won’t. I know the drill."

* * *

I
stumbled
into my office and collapsed in my chair. Just when things were supposed to be getting back on track, disaster always struck.

It was at times like this I'd usually call Pippa. Or rather, at times like this, she'd usually be right beside me. But she'd been really sick and I didn't want to disturb her. News of a murder was hardly going to make her feel any better.

"I'm sure it will be okay," Chloe said, following me into the office. I knew she was only trying to be helpful, but her platitudes weren't bringing me any comfort right then.

"How is it going to be okay?" I stared up at her. "Chloe, the police think I'm responsible."

I stared at my desk and placed my head in my hands. When I'd thought it was just the paint fumes that had been responsible, I was willing to own up to it, to admit my part in any negligence. But my baking? That was a whole different kettle of fish. If word got out that one of my pies had killed a woman... Well, I'd never sell another baked good again.

And that would be the least of my worries. You probably don't get much of a chance to bake in prison anyway.

Chloe shrugged and I could tell she was trying her best to remain perky and upbeat. It should have been the other way around—me being the one to stay calm and reassure her that everything was going to be all right.

"I won't need you to come in tomorrow, Chloe."

"Why not?" she asked.

I looked at her like she was crazy. Was she? "Obviously we can't serve customers food here, Chloe. It's a crime scene."

She blushed, but she looked a little relieved. "Right, yes. For a second there, I thought I was being fired. I get you." She took her apron off and hung it up on a hook in my office where all the staff kept their spare uniforms.

She paused in the doorway.

"Rachael," she said. "Is there anything I can do?"

I was growing a little frustrated. "I already told you, we're closed. There's nothing more you can do..."

"No," she said quietly. "I don't mean work stuff. I mean, is there anything I can do to help you clear your name."

I raised my head off the desk. Helping me solve murders was usually Pippa's job. If she found out that I'd replaced her not only at the bakery but also as a detective...

I shook my head uncertainly. "No, Chloe, this isn't your responsibility."

She brought her phone of out her pocket and searched for something on the screen. "It's just...well, I've been following social media, and word has already gotten out about this."

I gulped. "Is it bad?"

She nodded. "They're already calling you the Mud Pie Murderess."

My mouth dropped wide open. "Can't we do something?" I asked, standing up to see what she was looking at. News had already broken out across every website. I'd be ruined within the week. "We need to put an end to this," I said frantically.

Chloe just stared at me. "Well, the only way to do that is to clear your name. Find out who really did it."

I nodded. She was right. And I knew where I needed to start. "I need to find out as much as I can about this Olive Styles." I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, but Chloe interrupted me.

"I've already taken the liberty of doing that," she said, sounding a little apologetic, but also kind of pleased with herself. "I looked her up."

"And?" There was a look of worry and intrigue on her face.

Chloe tapped her fingers against her phone. "Olive Styles was running for mayor of Belldale. The election is next week and she was probably going to win it."

I brought my hand up to my mouth. That was why she had looked so familiar. Her face was plastered on signs and billboards all over town.

I felt like I was going to be sick. I wasn't just being accused of killing an old lady; I was being accused of killing an old lady who was a respected member of the community. A well-known, powerful member of the community. A woman who probably had friends in high places.

"Rachael?" Chloe asked. "You've gone white again."

"If people think I've killed her for some kind of political gain..." I said, my mind already racing to the worse possible conclusion.

"Relax," Chloe said. "You didn't even know who she was, remember? Besides, I think her being a politician works in your favor right now."

I scoffed. "How, exactly?"

Chloe finally revealed herself to be more clever than I'd given her credit for. "Because if she was about to be elected mayor, then there are likely LOADS of people in this town who want her dead. This will take the focus off the mud pie. It's a political crime, and people will realize that soon enough."

"You're right," I murmured, suddenly relaxing a little. "There's got to be plenty of people out there with a motive. Chloe, you're a genius!" I said, jumping up. “I want you on the case. You and I are going to find out who killed Olive Styles, and clear my name!"

My cell rang and I jumped. Pippa. "Hello?" I said, picking it up.

"I heard about what happened, Rachael," came her frantic reply. "I'll be right there. I know you need me."

I looked across at Chloe. "That's okay, Pippa," I said. "I've got it covered. You just stay home and rest."