The Mud Pie Murderess: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery (12 page)

I nodded. "I know you didn't, Simona. I'm sorry for ever suggesting that you did. And you always did an amazing job at Bakermatic. You were practically the only staff member who had any real hospitality skills," I said.

She shrugged. "What does it matter now?" she asked. "It doesn't make any difference. I gave everything I had to that company over the past two years and what do I get? I get to drown with the sinking ship just like everyone else."

I couldn't believe what I was about to say. I must have been losing my mind. Or going soft with old age.

I cleared my throat. "Actually, with Chloe gone and Pippa pregnant..." I started to say, and I saw Simona turn her head up in surprise. Was I actually about to say the words? "I am going to need a new full time staff member. A good one. Someone I can trust."

Simona just stared at me. "Do you really mean it, Rachael?"

I nodded and reached out to shake her hand to seal the deal. "Welcome on, board Simona."

T
he room was painted
a pale yellow. I winced a little at the fumes and placed my paintbrush down. Maybe it was better not to let Pippa inside the nursery. Not while she was still pregnant. Not till the paint fumes settled.

The house was a good size. Sure, it was a little more out of town than my last apartment had been, and it was in an area known as Downtown Belldale, but there were three bedrooms. Enough for me to have one, for Pippa to have one of her own, and for there to be a nursery for the baby as well.

I walked back into the living room where Pippa, Tegan, Simona, and a bunch of other friends were waiting around, ready for the baby shower to begin. I gave them each a hug, even Tegan, but warned them to stay out of the newly painted nursery for a little while.

"I’m so excited that you’re having a baby, Pippa," I said, saving my biggest hug for last. “And I’m glad we get to spend the afternoon celebrating you and your little one!"

She held up her flute of nonalcoholic champagne and grinned back at me. "I can't believe I thought I just had a stomach bug all that time," she mused. "It seems crazy to think about now." She gave me a little wink. "But now that my stomach has settled, I've been doing some baking again."

"Really?" I said surprised. "That's supposed to be my job, remember?"

"I know," she said cheekily. "But I thought I'd give you a break seeing as you were so busy painting." She put her flute down. "Wait here," she said to everyone as she raced into the kitchen to fetch something. I hadn't even had time to use our new kitchen yet. We'd only been in the house two days.

She returned with a thick, glossy pie and put it down on the coffee table, triumphantly, for everyone to admire.

"What is this?" I asked, staring down at the chocolaty concoction. It was dripping with chocolate syrup. Mud Pie.

Pippa burst out laughing. "I thought it would be funny." She clutched at her bulging belly. Clearly she thought it was VERY funny. "I'm sorry, Rachael," she said, catching her breath. But when she saw the look on my face, she only laughed harder.

I shook my head. "I don't think I ever want to look at chocolate mud pie ever again, let alone eat it," I said. "You really do have a sick sense of humor."

She picked up a slice and started shoveling it into her mouth. "Well, you may not want to, but I do. And I'm pregnant so I get to eat—and do—whatever I like."

"Fair enough," I said with a laugh, deciding to dig in myself.

"Hey," Simona said. "Did you hear that Braxton Madison won the local election?"

I shot a look at Pippa. "I've been trying to avoid local politics. I'm not surprised, though."

Simona nodded and bit down on a slice of cake as well. "But apparently, his wife has just left him, so he's already embroiled in a scandal. Looks like he won't last long in office."

I shook my head and grabbed a piece of pie. Why not? I munched on it quietly while I stood back and watched the other girls laughing and eating, celebrating Pippa and her biggest news so far.

Whether there was ever a curse of not, things were finally looking up.

T
hanks for reading
The Mud Pie Murderess
. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

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t the end
of the book, I have included a preview of my first book,
A Pie to Die For
. It is available on Amazon at:

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A
s a special surprise
, I’m also including a preview of the first cozy mystery from my friend Miles Lancaster,
Murder in the Mountains
. I really hope you like it!

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ake
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"
B
ut you don't understand
, I use only the finest, organic ingredients." My voice was high-pitched as I pleaded my case to the policeman. Oh, this was just like an episode of Criminal Point. Hey, I wondered who the killer turned out to be. I shook my head. That's not important, Rachael, I scolded myself.
What's important is getting yourself off this murder charge.
Still, I hoped Pippa had recorded the ending of the episode.

I tried to steady my breathing as Jackson—Detective Whitaker—entered the room and threw a folder on the table, before studying the contents as though he was cramming for a test he had to take the next day. He rubbed his temples and frowned.

Is he even going to make eye contact with me? Is he just going to completely ignore the interaction we had at the fair? Pretend it never even happened
.

"Jackson..." I started, before I was met with a steely glare. "Detective. Surely you can't think I had anything to do with this?"

Jackson looked up at me slowly. "Had you ever had any contact with Mrs. Batters before today?"

I shifted in my seat. "Yes," I had to admit. "I knew her a little from the store. She was always quite antagonistic towards me, but I'd never try to kill her!"

"Witnesses near the scene said that you two had an argument." He gave me that same steely glare. Where was the charming, flirty, sweet guy I'd meet earlier? He was now buried beneath a suit and a huge attitude.

"Well...it wasn't an argument...she was just...winding me up, like she always does."

Jackson shot me a sharp look. "So, she was annoying you? Was she making you angry?"

"Well... Well..." I tripped over my words. He was now making me nervous for an entirely different reason than he had earlier. Those butterflies were back, but now they felt like daggers.

Come on, Rach. Everyone knows that the first suspect in Criminal Point is not the one that actually did it.

But how many people had Jackson already interviewed? Maybe he was saving me for last. Gosh, maybe my cherry pie had actually killed the woman!

"Answer the question please, Miss Robinson."

"Not angry, no. I was just frustrated."

"Frustrated?" A smile curled at his lips before he pounced. "Frustrated with Mrs. Batters?"

"No! The situation. Come on—you were there!" I tried to appeal to his sympathies, but he remained a brick wall.

"It doesn't matter whether I was there or not. That is entirely besides the point." He said the words a little too forcefully.

I swallowed. "I couldn't get any customers to try my cakes, and Bakermatic was luring everyone away with their free samples." I stopped as my brows shot up involuntarily. "Jackson! Sorry, Detective. Mrs. Batters ate at Bakermatic as well!"

My words came out in a stream of breathless blabber as I raced to get them out. "Bakermatic must be to blame! They cut corners, they use cheap ingredients. Oh, and I know how much Mrs. Batters loved their food! She was always eating there. Believe me, she made that very clear to me."

Jackson sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "Don't try to solve this case for us."

I sealed my lips.
Looks like I might have to at this rate.

"We are investigating every place Mrs. Batters ate today. You don't need to worry about that."

I leaned forward and banged my palm on the table. "But I do need to worry about it! This is my job, my livelihood…my life on the line. If people think I am to blame, that will be the final nail in my bakery's coffin!" Oh, what a day. And I'd thought it was bad enough that I hadn't gotten any customers at my stand. Now I was being accused of killing a woman!

I could have sworn I saw a flicker of sympathy finally crawl across Jackson's face. He stood up and readjusted his tie, but he still refused to make full eye contact. "You're free to go, Miss Robinson," he said gently. There was that tone from earlier, finally. He seemed recognizable as a human at long last.

"Really?"

He nodded. "For the moment. But we might have some more questions for you later, so don't leave town."

I tried to make eye contact with him as I left, squirreling out from underneath his arm as he held the door open for me, but he just kept staring at the floor.

Did that mean he wasn't coming back to my bakery after all?

* * *

P
ippa was still waiting
for me when I returned home later that evening. There was a chill in the air, which meant that I headed straight for a blanket and the fireplace when I finally crawled in through the door. Pippa shot me a sympathetic look as I curled up and crumbled in front of the flames.
How had today gone so wrong, so quickly?

"I recorded the last part of the show," Pippa said softly. "If you're up for watching it."

I groaned and lay on the carpet, my back straight against the floor like I was a little kid. "I don't think I can stomach it after what I just went through. Can you believe it? Accusing ME of killing Mrs. Batters? When I
know
that Bakermatic is to blame. I mean, Pippa, they must be! But this detective wouldn't even listen to me when I was trying to explain Bakermatic's dodgy practices to him."

Pippa leaned forward and took the lid off a pot, the smell of the brew hitting my nose. "Pippa, what is that?"

She grinned and stirred it, which only made the smell worse. I leaned back and covered my nose. "Thought it might be a bit heavy for you. I basically took every herb, tea, and spice that you had in your cabinet and came up with this! I call it 'Pippa's Delight'!"

"Yeah well, it doesn't sound too delightful." I sat up and scrunched up my nose. "Oh, what the heck—pour me a cup."

"Are you sure?" Pippa asked with a cheeky grin.

"Go on. I'll be brave."

I braced myself as the brown liquid hit the white mug.

It was as disgusting as I had imagined, but at least it made me laugh when the pungent concoction hit my tongue. Pippa always had a way of cheering me up. If it wasn't her unusual concoctions, or her ever changing hair color—red this week but pink the last, and purple a week before that—then it was her never-ending array of careers and job changes that entertained me and kept me on my toes. When you're trying to run your own business, forced to be responsible day in and day out, you have to live vicariously through some of your more free-spirited friends. And Pippa was definitely that: free-spirited.

"Hey!" I said suddenly, as an idea began to brew in my brain. I didn't know if it was the tea that suddenly brought all my senses to life or what it was, but I found myself slamming my mug on the table with new found enthusiasm. "Pippa, have you got a job at the moment?" I could never keep up with Pippa's present state of employment.

She shrugged as she kicked her feet up and lay back on the sofa. "Not really! I mean, I've got a couple of things in the works. Why's that?"

I pondered for a moment. "Pippa, if you could get a job at Bakermatic, you could see first hand what they’re up to!" My voice was a rush of excitement as I clapped my hands together. "You would get to find out the ways they cut corners, the bad ingredients they use, and, if you were really lucky, you might even overhear someone say something about Mrs. Batters!"

A gleam appeared in Pippa's green eyes. "Well, I do need a job, especially after today."

I raced on. "Yes! And you've got plenty of experience working in cafes."

"Yeah. I've worked in hundreds of places." She took a sip of the tea and managed to swallow it. She actually seemed to enjoy it.

"I know you've got a lot of experience. You're sure to get the job. They’re always looking for part-timers." Unfortunately, Bakermatic was planning on expanding the storefront even further, and that meant they were looking for even more employees to fill their big yellow store. "Pippa, this is the perfect plan! We'll get you an application first thing in the morning. Then you can start investigating!"

Pippa raised her eyebrows. "Investigating?"

I nodded and lay my head back down on the carpet. "Criminal Point—Belldale Style! Bakery Investigation Unit! I will investigate and do what I can from my end as well! Perhaps I could talk to people from all the other food stalls! Oh, Pippa, we're going to make a crack team of detectives!"

"The Bakery Detectives!"

We both started giggling but, as the full weight of the day's events started to pile up on me, I felt my stomach tighten. It might seem fun to send Pippa in to spy on Bakermatic, but this was serious. My bakery, my livelihood, and even my own freedom depended on it.

T
hanks for reading
a sample of my book,
A Pie to Die For
. I really hope you liked it. You can read the rest at:

FairfieldPublishing.com/pie-to-die-for

O
r you can get
it for free by signing up for our newsletter.

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M
ake
sure you turn to the next page for the preview of
Murder in the Mountains
.