Crepes and Crimes Read online

  Crepes and Crimes

  by

  Constance Barker

  Copyright 2020 Constance Barker

  All rights reserved.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Thanks for Reading

  Catalog of Books

  Chapter 1

  “Oh, for criminy sake’s alive!” I muttered as an air bubble in my piping bag caused green icing to puke all over the rose I’d been trying to put leaves around.

  What a day for everyone to be MIA. Poor Masie sounded like she was choking to death when she called this morning to let me know she’d caught the cold that was going around. She apologized profusely, offering to come in anyway, but I assured her Scooter and I would survive without her.

  When Scooter called five minutes later, I was fairly certain my heart missed a few beats. Apparently, his mother was suffering from the same ailment as Masie, and he needed to stay home with her.

  I could do this. How hard was it, really, to cater an entire engagement party by yourself? Piece of cake. Pun definitely intended.

  A small sigh escaped from between my lips, as I carefully scraped the errant icing away and started over. Only a few more roses, and the cake would be finished.

  Sam Porter was not going to receive the satisfaction of seeing me fail. He was already madder than a skunk on a cactus because Maribelle and Jordan chose me to bake the cake for their wedding. The engagement party that I was commandeering all on my own today had put the final nail in the coffin.

  He was so sure that because his restaurant was a big deal in town and Maribelle was his niece, he deserved the contract for the cake. He was also still under the impression that the only place for a woman was barefoot and pregnant at home. What century did he think this was?

  Masie was positive that his cranky attitude and the constant chip on his shoulder was a result of pure loneliness. I wasn’t so sure. The ever-present mean glint that filtered through his eyes every time I saw him made me think his intentions were more malicious.

  I’d just finished putting the final touches on the cake when the door from the dining hall into the kitchen slammed open. Derrick Todd barged in like he was on a mission but stopped short when his gaze landed on me.

  His dark curly hair flopped across his brow, shadowing his eyes. His lips pulled back into a megawatt smile that I’m sure had knocked the panties off many unsuspecting ladies. I found myself irritated by his interruption and cocky demeanor.

  A few minutes ago, the sound of Derrick and Jordan fighting had filtered through the door. Something about being removed as best man. If he thought he had found solace in here, he was mistaken. I didn’t have time for this.

  “Well, hello there, pretty lady. I don’t suppose you have another bottle of champagne back here you’d be willing to share with me.” He slurred. I’d bet he’d had more than one bottle tonight.

  “You can’t be back here,” I stated, as I set my piping bag down and put my hands on his shoulders, spinning him around to face the door.

  He let me lead him a few steps toward the door before he twisted around and stopped.

  “Oh, come on. One little bottle, Dollface,” he purred.

  “I think you’ve had enough, buddy,” I said, patting his chest.

  He brushed his hair from his forehead and his eyes sparked with anger. “What are you? The champagne police? Who gave you control over all the booze?”

  “Actually, sir, I’m the caterer. So, Maribelle and Jordan put me in charge. And since this is their party, I think you might want to calm down a little. It sounded earlier like Jordan isn’t exactly happy with you at the moment,” I answered.

  “You think because you can bake a cake that you’re better than everyone else? Sam was right about you,” he yelled.

  It was then that I realized the door to the kitchen was ajar, and every guest in the room had turned to discern what the commotion was about. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment.

  “Nothing to see folks. Everything is fine. The cake will be out momentarily,” I assured, giving Derrick a shove. He stumbled through the door, and I watched as it swung shut behind him. Things could not get any worse.

  Before I even turned around, a loud siren blared through the room. I heard guest’s screaming and pushed through the door just in time to witness the fire sprinklers turn on.

  “My food!” I cried.

  I raced across the main dining room towards the table where the food had been set up. Faster than I knew I was capable, I started slamming lids down over trays before everything became soaked and turn to mush.

  Water puddled up on the tables, soaking into the table cloths and causing stray cups to overflow with liquid. Just as fast as they had started, the sprinklers turned off.

  I stood in the middle of the room dripping wet. My hair matted to my face in thick, wet tendrils. My dress was soaked and clung to my body like a second skin.

  “Well, that was exciting,” a voice said next to me.

  I glanced over at Jordan looking every bit the drowned rat I was sure I resembled. “No one will be able to say your party wasn’t memorable. That’s for sure.”

  A strangled laugh slipped from between his lips.

  “Why don’t we try to salvage some of the night. Cake time?” I asked.

  “Cake time,” he agreed.

  I headed back to the kitchen to collect the food trolley to move the cake to the main room. It was odd that the sprinklers in the kitchen hadn’t been set off, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  Taking hold of the handle on one end, I started to push the trolley towards the door, but it barely budged.

  “What in the world?” I murmured.

  I shoved it harder and only managed to make it move a few inches. It wasn’t this heavy when I brought it in here. What was going on?

  There was a tablecloth draped over the trolley. I reached down, pulling it up to see underneath. Maybe I’d stacked some supplies under it and didn’t remember.

  Derrick’s hand fell from the rack and hung awkwardly against the floor. His body was wedged under the trolley. Blood covered his dark curls and soaked into his suit. A champagne bottle was cradled against him.

  I gasped and dropped the curtain. Holy fug nuggets! Poor Derrick. It looks like he found his champagne, all right.

  Chapter 2

  “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!” I didn’t realize I’d been squealing until Jordan came through the kitchen door.
It appeared as though the entire wedding party was trying to push their way in behind him.

  “Stay back! This is a crime scene!” I yelled.

  Jordan stopped in his tracks, putting his arms straight out to block the crowd behind him. “What’s going on?”

  “Someone’s been hit upside the head with a wine bottle! Call the police.” I didn’t say Derrick’s name because I thought maybe releasing that kind of information before the family could be notified wasn’t okay. As for saying it was a wine bottle, isn’t that the kind of pertinent evidence police don’t like to give out to the public?

  I stepped towards the door and ushered everyone back through in order to help preserve as much of the crime scene as possible. Just because I wasn’t a police officer, didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of the procedure. This wasn’t my first dead body, after all. This was my second.

  All the guest’s stood around muttering amongst themselves. I overheard several conversations contemplating who the dead body could be. Jordan and his groomsmen helped keep everyone inside so the police would be able to take statements.

  A few guests snuck out the side doors. They, apparently, didn’t want to be here when the police arrived, which seemed suspicious, if you ask me.

  Logan arrived with three other officers. They taped off the kitchen and started questioning the guests. Since I couldn’t do any clean up until all the evidence had been collected, he told me I was free to go. He would talk to me tomorrow.

  When I got home, I took a steaming shower, trying to scrub the scent of death from my skin. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. At least Derrick wasn’t killed at the bakery like the last guy.

  After setting my alarm for the morning, I curled up in bed and closed my eyes. I was surprised I was actually able to fall asleep.

  I’d been at the bakery for an hour when Masie rushed through the front door. Her nose was bright red, and her voice sounded scratchy and nasally.

  “Did you hear about the murder!” She exclaimed.

  “I found the body,” I replied.

  “Again! That’s bad mojo, or something. Who was it this time?” she asked.

  “Derrick Todd.”

  “Oh wow! He was really hot. I heard he’s played whack a mole with half the single ladies in this town, and some in Tilletsville to boot.” Masie stated solemnly.

  “He definitely had a reputation as a lady’s man, that’s for sure,” I agreed.

  “Maybe not all the ladies were single, and someone’s husband decided to whack the mole himself.” She leaned in conspiratorially.

  We sat down with a plate of cookies and cups of coffee.

  “I heard there was some discord with their group of friends. Jordan basically fired Derrick from being best man,” I contemplated.

  “Hadn’t Derrick started working at the hotel, recently?” Masie asked.

  “I think he was the new night manager.”

  “Maybe he was managing something shady with all his lady friends.” Masie lowered her voice. I felt the need to ask her why she was whispering, then thought better of it.

  The bells on the door jingled. Masie and I glanced up and saw Logan trudge into the bakery. His shirt was wrinkled and his tie was crooked.

  “You know, Coco, if you want to see me so badly, you don’t have to find a dead body. This is a bad habit we’re getting into. I’m willing to come around in an unofficial capacity, for future reference.” He tried to joke, but his voice was gravelly and strained.

  “Coffee?” I asked.

  “Yes, please,” he answered, dropping into the seat between Masie’s and mine.

  I went behind the counter and filled a cup with the strongest coffee I had. “Did you want cream or sugar?” I asked from across the room.

  “No, thank you. The stronger the better,” Logan replied.

  Setting the cup down in front of him, I plopped back down in my chair. “How does the investigation look, so far?”

  It took him nearly a full thirty seconds to respond. He picked up the cup and guzzled down the thick liquid like it was water. When he set the empty cup down on the table, I picked it up and went back to the counter to refill it without even asking.

  “Mr. Everett, the groom’s father, is putting a lot of pressure on the force to get this solved quickly. He doesn’t want it to put any kind of damper on the wedding plans,” he said.

  “That’s understandable, I guess. This wedding is costing a small fortune, after all,” I stated.

  “You’d think he would be more concerned that one of his son’s closest friends has been brutally murdered, though,” Masie chimed in.

  “No one seems to be overly broken up over Derrick’s sudden demise. It would appear that he was on the bad end of several tempers recently.” Logan ran a hand through his hair, and then picked up the refilled coffee cup as I set it down in front of him.

  He took a few more big gulps. “Numerous people mentioned that you had an altercation with him right before the fire alarm went off.”

  “He came into the kitchen looking for more champagne. He was already fairly sloshed, so I told him no and sent him out the door. He was none too pleased with me.”

  “Coco’s not a suspect, is she?” Masie asked. Her eyes widened in horror.

  “Of course not.” Logan reassured. “Everyone also witnessed her trying to cover all the food from the fire sprinkler downpour, and I know she would never have anything to do with a dead body, other than being the person who finds it.”

  He grinned and shot a wink my direction, before chugging down the rest of the coffee. I slid a plate of red velvet cookies in front of him and filled his cup again.

  Picking one up, he plopped it into his mouth whole. As he chewed, his brows drew together in concentration. When he swallowed, he cleared his throat. “Can either of you think of anyone who might have had a motive to want Derrick dead?”

  Masie and I told Logan the theories we were pondering before he walked in the door. We all agreed that many of them were valid assumptions. Too bad that made the suspect list longer, instead of narrowing it down.

  “Well, I need to check back in at the station. I’ll see you ladies later. Try not to find anymore dead bodies before we get this one solved.” Logan grinned. Picking up his coffee, he headed for the door.

  Chapter 3

  As I began to close up the shop for the night, Rose, Vivian, and Stella stopped by. Rose held the door open for the two older women as they walked in.

  All three made a beeline straight for me. I knew they were curious and wanted to hear about what happened. I didn’t blame them. I would be too.

  Rose sat down at the counter and crossed her long legs. She flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder and gave me a small smile.

  I could already tell what they were here for. The small size of Haverfield meant word traveled fast. Something this big took only a few hours to spread all over town.

  I sighed. “I know you three are here to hear what happened,” I said.

  “Well, what are you waiting for then?” Stella said with a laugh. I knew I had no choice but to recount the story again. I couldn’t say no to a cute older gal, especially not her or Vivian.

  Rose began to idly rearrange the knick-knacks and napkin dispensers on my countertop. She never could keep her hands to herself when she thought something needed to be tidied.

  “Word travels that fast, huh?” I said.

  “These two have the inside scoop on everything going on in town,” Rose told me. “They flagged me down on my way to the discount store.”

  “How did—” I stopped myself. The web of senior gossip was not something I was in a state to start to untangle. “Nevermind. Alright.” I began the story again, making sure not to miss any details. I supposed I had to get used to telling it over and over again. As I walked them through the unfortunate series of events, I felt my anxiety over the situation begin to grow.

  “Do you think this will hurt The Mad Batter?” I asked.


  “Don’t think like that, Coco,” Rose said with sympathy in her voice. “It’s just a coincidence. Everyone knows this isn’t you doing it.”

  “Well...” Stella began. She was as much of a spitfire as the color of her short red hair suggested. She was never one to mince words.

  “Well? What does ‘well’ mean?” I asked.

  “Oh, don’t worry yourself about this, dearie,” Stella said. “There’s just been a bit of talk. That’s all. You know how people get bored and need to focus on something.”

  “What sort of talk?”

  “People say it’s bad luck,” Stella continued. “The other seniors have been saying so.”

  “Stella,” Rose said. “You shouldn’t freak her out with these rumors.”

  Stella took off her glasses to clean them. Her face looked softer without them, but she was as stern as ever.

  “She deserves to know,” she said in response. “I don’t know why we’re making such a fuss about something she should know about.”

  “I’m the death baker,” I said with a sigh. I laid my head down on the countertop. I felt too defeated to hold it up anymore. Vivian reached out to gently stroke my hair.

  “There, there,” she said. “This will all pass.”

  “But it’s not passing,” I said. “I’ve been getting fewer customers. If this keeps up, I’ll go out of business!”

  The thought of going out of business shook me to the core. I had worked so hard to get to where I was. It freaked me out to think it could all be taken away.

  No matter how delicious the baking is, no one would want to go to the death baker. On some level, I couldn’t blame them. It would scare me too. Truthfully, it did scare me.

  Rose, Vivian, and Stella’s curiosity admittedly was fueling my own. I know I wasn’t a part of it, but I was as much in the dark as everyone else.

  “But what if—” I began. Rose held up a hand to hush me.

  “It’s alright, Coco, really,” she said. “You know we would tell you if you were past the point of no return.”

  “You’ll always have business as long as Red and Henry are around,” Stella said with a laugh.