Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (31 page)
Read Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) Online
Authors: Heather Justesen
Tags: #pastry chefs, #murder mysteries, #Sweet Bites Bakery, #Tess Crawford, #Tempest Crawford, #recipes included, #culinary mysteries
“I know. But having her there when the police arrived.” I shivered a little at the thought. “No need for
her
to have nightmares too. I can’t believe I was talking to Francine only an hour before she died. Maybe less. She’d been lying there for a while.”
He threaded our fingers together. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Again.”
“Me too.” I felt better just having him there, though, and his taking my hand—the first time ever—was a step that made me smile. “Want to help me make some cookies?”
“By
help
you mean
watch
, and maybe hand you ingredients, right?” he asked.
“Of course. Unless you’ve miraculously gotten yourself a food handler’s permit in the past few weeks.” The local health inspector was a bit of a stickler, so I didn’t take any chances.
“Nope.”
I gave his hand a tug and pulled him back into the kitchen so I could return to work. “I’ll let you lick the mixing paddle when I’m through making the dough,” I offered.
“Sounds good.”
He pulled the stool over to the counter to watch me work and I started talking about all the craziness we’d had in the shop that day, avoiding the topic of the murder.
After I’d creamed the butter, sugars and eggs together, he brought it up. “So, are you going to investigate what happened to Francine?” Jack asked. “Or are you going to leave it for Detective Tingey to worry about?”
“It’s his job, but I can’t get it out of my head. If you’d seen—it was worse somehow than what happened to Valerie.” I shuddered as I thought of my first murder victim here in Silver Springs. “Whoever killed Francine wrapped fabric around her neck. It looked like quilted material.” I added in the flour to the mixer.
“Isn’t there some big to-do about her in quilt guild?” Jack asked. His mother was in the guild, along with what seemed like half of the women in town.
When Honey had mentioned quilt guild meeting during our many phone calls, back when I worked in Chicago, I thought she’d been exaggerating about how involved the community was in the guild. I was so wrong. “Mary Ellen was unhappy, saying Francine stole some of her original quilt designs and sold them on the Internet. It’s a thing.” There had been hard feelings and bickering for several months now, but I hadn’t paid much attention.
“A thing, huh?” He smiled and snitched a chocolate chip off the counter as I added the oats to the mixer.
I slapped his hand. “No eating in my kitchen. You want the health department to shut me down?”
He just grinned, and I reciprocated. It was against the rules, but you couldn’t see into the kitchen from the street.
“So, are you going to talk with Mary Ellen tomorrow? Sounds to me like she’s got a reason to be upset if Francine was stealing her designs,” Jack said.
I couldn’t see it myself. I mean, Mary Ellen was too upright and proper to kill someone. And strangling had to take a lot of strength and it’s up close and personal. “She’d be a good place to start out, if I were Tingey—which I’m not. I’m staying out of it this time.” A moment later I mixed in the chocolate chips and smiled. “I’m ready to stick this in the cooler. Grab that bowl, will you?” I pointed to a large stainless steel bowl on a nearby shelf.
Jack brought it over and held on while I moved the dough to the new bowl. The dough didn’t really need chilling, but preparing it tonight would save me time tomorrow. Peanut butter oatmeal cookies were one of my customers’ favorites. We covered the bowl and set it aside.
I handed him the beater, as promised. “Here, take that out front. I’m just going to put a few things away, and then I’ll join you.” I turned back to re-sort all of the ingredients into the correct cupboard and seal off the flour bag. I set mixing bowl to soak in the sink of soapy water while I went to talk to Jack.
I grabbed two bottles of water on my way past the drink cooler and joined him at the table. “I didn’t ask how Sadie was doing. She looked like she was having fun tonight.” I’d seen him with his daughter across the room and traded waves with Jack, but Honey said they’d been to the cake walk before I arrived.
“Sadie had a blast. And now she’s all ready for the real Halloween tomorrow. Remind me why the school decided not to do that carnival on Halloween night—I really have to do this two nights in a row?”
I chuckled and passed him the extra water bottle. “Don’t you have enough energy to keep up with a kindergartner?”
He covered his face with his hands and slid them down slowly. “It’s not keeping up with her that’s the problem. It’s the hair.” His voice was muffled, but his blue eyes looked at me across the table. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to do that curly, braided thing on her head? And I have to do it again tomorrow!” He covered his eyes again.
I couldn’t help but laugh, his actions were so over-the-top and ridiculously dramatic. “Come on—you can’t tell me your mom didn’t do that. It was perfect.”
“I wish she had.” Jack dropped his hands and twisted off the lid from his water bottle. “It was all me—Mom insists on it. I never thought this single-dad gig was going to mean doing little-girl hair. It’s inhuman.” He took a long guzzle of his water, then seemed to realize what I had just said. “Do you really think it was perfect?”
I nodded. “You should think about changing your career, Jack. Forget this whole paramedic, saving-lives thing and become a hair stylist instead.”
“No way. You just want me to stop poking needles in you. The best way to prevent that is for you to stop getting yourself hurt, you know.” He nudged my elbow on the bistro table.
“Hey, it’s not like I do it on purpose! And I’m staying out of this investigation. Absolutely out.” Yeah, I know, famous last words, right?
He chuckled and took another drink, holding my gaze. He didn’t seem to believe me either.
When he finally left half an hour later, my heart was a lot lighter and I was able to go back to work on the cake without a hint of shakiness left.
To Stacey, for your unflagging friendship, bright smile and ready laugh. Everyone should have a friend like you!
The Ball’s in Her Court
Rebound
Family by Design
Blank Slate
The Switch
Shear Luck
Homecoming
Homecoming: Second Chances
Other Sweet Bites Mysteries
Brownies & Betrayal
This books has been a lot of fun and a lot of hard work to make it all come together, and I could never have done it without the help of a lot of people.
Thanks to my critique group Tristi Pinkston, Keith Fisher and Nichole Giles for being my first readers, for catching my character’s stupid actions and pointing out where I have motivation problems. Your friendship is invaluable!
Thanks to Rachel Nunes, Rachelle Christensen and Marie Higgins for catching that last round of mistakes and making sure that the story flowed well in manuscript form.
And thanks to my test kitcheners, Lisa Swinton, Laurel Wilson, Jordan McCullom, and Kellie Braun for making sure the recipes worked in more than my own oven and giving great suggestions for variations.
And, as always, a huge thanks to my husband, Bill, without whom none of this would be possible. He manages my website, builds my covers, does a final punctuation and grammar edit and makes me laugh every day. I love working with him full time. He is my biggest support and cheerleader. I love you, honey!
Heather Justesen remembers making her first scratch cake when she was about thirteen. Thankfully, her baking skills have improved dramatically from the lopsided, but tasty, mess she made that day. When she’s not writing or developing recipes, she runs with the local volunteer ambulance, enjoys gardening, playing with her chickens, cake decorating and working with her husband in their small business.
Learn more about her at her website at
http://heatherjustesen.com/
or her blog at
http://heatherjustesen.blogspot.com/
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