A Drizzle of Murder Read online

  I heard someone clear their throat next to my table and looked up to see the mover and the man.

  "I got to go," he told the guy. "I have to get this chick's bakery ready."

  The disdain with which he talked about my bakery made me angry and I bristled.

  "And make sure you do it right," I said. "I'm paying you enough. You almost broke my plates earlier.”

  After he huffed and walked off Masie squealed and grabbed my hand. "That was so good. I'll make a scary woman out of you yet."

  I breathed heavily. "That was intense.”

  "Yeah I think he's like running drugs or something.” Masie dabbed the side of her lip with her napkin. This girl wasn't easily flustered.

  "Remind me never to use his company again," I said.

  I pulled my phone back out to add to my list for the new bakery.

  "Scooter is making the cakes, right," Masie asked out of the blue.

  "Yes, he said they would blow our minds. With Scooter, who knows if that's a good or bad thing.”

  Scooter was a genius with cakes. I'd hired him after he gave an impromptu class for fun on sugar artistry at the age of seventeen. He was a visionary. He also was a smart mouthed kid who was in my bakery all the time. Everyone called him Scooter because he rode a scooter all over town. He worked hard and I was happy to have him at the Mad Batter.

  "That reminds me, I need to get cake stands," I said.

  My attention was drawn to the front of the restaurant where people were shouting and pointing into the street. "They're fighting in traffic!" Naturally I had to see what they were talking about. The mover and the bald man were involved in a rumble in the middle of the street. Well, if you could call two older men swatting at one another a rumble.

  "I've called the police," Shirley yelled from her front door. "You better get out of here."

  Tom shoved the guy one more time before retreating to the moving truck with my things in it. The bald man swore after him and took off in the other direction.

  Masie wasn't impressed. “Mr. Personality is making friends all over town.”

  “I’ll be glad when he’s done and gone,” I told her. There was a feeling of dread in my stomach over the whole thing I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  Chapter Four

  After eating we went to shop for the bakery. I was standing in the middle of Reggie's Discount Store and the place had everything from cookware to horse saddles. You could find anything you needed within the walls. The store had a pharmacy, grocery store, and a Starbucks. Masie and I had gone to get some things for the new place. She rushed up to me.

  "You have to get this!" Masie jumped up and down in front of me.

  She held a chef's hat that had a face on it. The hat was smashed down, so it looked a lot like the Harry Potter sorting hat.

  "You have to make Scooter wear it!" Her voice took on a high-pitched excitement only she could drum up.

  "Oh, I'm going to do that for sure," I said taking the hat from her.

  Scooter was thrilled to have more space for creating his cakes. He liked to experiment and made a bigger mess than Masie did when it came to his station.

  "I think I may try out some new colors," I told her as I looked back and forth between a plain silver cake stand and a bright green one. If I did the bright green one, I could be a little cooler. The plates I used at the other bakery were plain white, my cake stands were boring, and I knew it.

  I'd been to New York for a trip with the girls and all the bakeries we went in were quirky. They had some little nuance that made them unique. I wanted that for the Mad Batter, but it was going to be baby steps. As much as I wanted to buy all the pretty things, I had to remind myself I was still on a budget. Running a business as a single female wasn't easy, but I hoped the new shop in a great location would help bring more business in.

  Finally, after a lot of thought, I picked up the brightly colored cake stand and some serving plates. I also went back to look at some art with the green in it to tie everything together.

  "You can put this out front!" Masie yelled at me from the front of the store. I looked to see her standing next to a giant bright green bird statue. Strange giant bird wasn't a baby step to quirky, it was a giant leap.

  "Okay it's time to go," I said going over to get checked out. I was happy with my purchases. Masie helped me get everything into Daisy and then we hugged.

  "I'm going to take the new menus over to get printed and then I'm taking a much-needed nap," she told me.

  "Fair enough," I said. "I'm going to head over and start planning where things should go."

  "Yes, your bold new art, very eighties chic," she said.

  "And I want to make sure Tom didn't break anything," I added remembering our exchange.

  "Yes, write down anything you see that looks broken. We'll have us a lawsuit, or at least get it paid for."

  "Okay,” I told her.

  When I pulled up to the new Mad Batter Bakery I wasn't surprised to find Tom's van there. He'd said he was leaving his seedy meeting to go move my stuff.

  A small part of me wanted to look in the van to see whatever illegal contraband he was transporting. I decided that wasn't really something I wanted to get involved in. Carrying the boxes in I used my elbow to turn the lights on and almost dropped everything.

  A sense of great pride moved through me as I saw how far I'd come. From Masie and I baking in our tiny apartment, to my first shop, to now, this amazing space. Things were only going to go up from there.

  I started putting the pictures up on the walls to test different places, but I found it a little weird that I didn't hear him moving around. The van was there but where was he?

  "Tom," I called.

  Moving slowly towards the door that led to the back room of the bakery I slipped on some water right outside the door. Getting my bearings, I pushed the door open slowly. When I walked into the back, I saw my boxes and blood.

  There was blood flowing from the dead man lying across the boxes. "Tom!" I screeched. Shocked I stood looking at the body. He was face down with his hair flopped forward. The blood soaked the bottom of his shirt and dripped steadily down to the floor. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but the size of the puddle made me think it was a long time.

  Someone had killed him in my bakery. Frickity frack! I instantly wondered if that was bad luck. Well it certainly wasn't good luck. Then I realized what I thought was water was actually blood. As I ran in circles freaking out in the seating area, I pulled out my phone.

  That's what you did when someone killed somebody over your dishware, right? You called 911. Dialing the phone, I heard a woman pick up on the other end. I lost all ability to talk or think. My stomach lurched and I fought to not throw up as I tried to form a coherent thought.

  “Man, who was mean,” I cried, “dead. Mean, Tom, dead...lots of blood.”

  “I know it’s hard, honey,” she said, “but you’re going to have to calm down a bit.”

  Deeply inhaling and trying again, I told her, “The mean man who moved my stuff here is dead, someone stabbed him!”

  “Okay darling give me the address,” she said. I realized in a panic; I didn’t know my new address.

  “I don’t know it,” I wailed.

  “Do you know the street?”

  “Oh yes, it’s Lovely Lane, I thought how pretty to have a bakery on such a pretty street. My bakery is Mad Batter, doesn’t really fit with the street name, but I have a following so I had to keep it. Am I talking too much, I feel like I’m talking too much?”

  “Okay is this person someone you can help with CPR,” she said.

  “No, he’s really dead and bloody,” I screamed into the phone.

  “Alright honey, don’t touch anything.”

  “No worries, there,” I told her. Sitting at one of my tables I didn’t move until I saw the flashing of blue lights. When they came in, I didn't move much, I just pointed. No part of me wanted to see him again.

  Chapte
r Five

  Several police officers ran in prepped to take down a bad guy. I meekly pointed to the back of the bakery and waited for them to go find him. One of the men broke off and walked over to where I sat.

  I recognized the deputy immediately. Logan Owensby and I had gone to high school together and occasionally saw each other out in town. He had a great sense of humor and a stunning smile.

  “Logan,” I said, “I’m freaking out.”

  We sat at one of the tables in the front as his team went in and out. I’d already been there for a bit and I was starting to pretty numb to the whole situation.

  “Of course, let’s get this part out of the way,” Logan said. “Did you stab your moving guy?”

  “No,” I screeched, the question shocking me. “I mean I didn’t care for him and the way he handled my dishware. He had a strange conversation about unknown contraband in front of me. I maybe wanted to stab him, but did I? No, he wasn’t a nice man, anyone could have.”

  The way Logan looked at me, I knew I was talking too much, but shutting up has never been my forte. That was especially true when I got nervous.

  Logan took a seat at the table across from me and pulled out a notebook.

  "So, maybe just walk me through what happened today," he said as he positioned his pen to take notes.

  "Okay well I woke up this morning feeling a little bit like maybe I've forgotten to brush my teeth. When I went into the bathroom my toothbrush was wet, so I figured I did."

  "Maybe skip ahead," he said.

  "Right, you just need important things. "

  He nodded and I continued.

  "So, I was thinking as I walked in, I really think that this piece of art will look good there." I pointed to the wall behind the counter. "But then I realized I should put it over there."

  "Let's continue to skip ahead," he said.

  "Alright, I walked to the back and I slipped in what I thought was water, but I realized after I saw Tom bleeding to death or already dead or whatever that I had actually slipped in his blood."

  "You went into the back and you saw that he was dead, and you called 911.”

  "Yes, and then I sat here waiting on you forever."

  "We were here within ten minutes," he said offended.

  " I could have been stabbed by my own special edition Adina Lovegood knives by then," I said.

  Logan just blinked at me. "You said that you didn't like him, what interaction did you have with him before this point?” He scribbled furiously on the tiny notebook flipping pages.

  “Why don’t you ever just use a bigger notepad?” I had always been curious. In movies they had a tiny notepad and it seemed real life was the same.

  “Answer the question please,” he said.

  "He rattled my dishes," I said

  " Is that a euphemism?" Logan said raising a brow.

  "No, he almost broke my serving plates and other dishes. He was handling them very roughly."

  "Were they special edition?"

  "Some were," I said assuming he was being sarcastic. I wasn’t playing into that, Lovegood was an icon. “I can't serve people without dishes. The thought of my dishes being broken set me on edge.” Rose was the OCD one, not me I needed to get it together. “Would you like me to bake you a cake?" I jumped up and moved towards the counter to find my dry ingredients. "It helps relieve stress."

  "No need for that. We're almost done," he said.

  "Oh no!" I exclaimed in horror as I stopped in my tracks.

  "What, what is it." He jumped to his feet with his hand on his gun.

  "My good mixing bowl is under Tom," I put both hands around my mouth to whisper, “his body."

  He ran a hand down his face and sat back down. " Tell me about seeing him earlier talking about what did you say, contraband."

  I sighed and walked back over to sit again lacing my fingers together on the table.

  "I saw him earlier after I went shopping and I had gotten my lunch. I ordered red wine instead of a white wine. Masie insinuated I was boring, so I changed it up. But she was right I do always choose the same thing. Maybe I should change it up. Life is short. I mean, look at mean Tom the mover."

  "Alright, Coco," Logan said, “you're obviously spiraling. Let's just keep this about the dead guy."

  I took a few calming breaths. "I heard him talking to this other guy and I can just describe him to a sketch artist, I just don’t remember his name. He said Tom was supposed to move something for him and he lost it, or it was taken. I got the feeling it was worth a lot." I gasped. "What if it was drugs and he moved them through here? What if he replaced the powdered sugar with cocaine? Logan, you have to test it before I bake.”

  "Just hang out for a few. I'm going to finish my report and then you can go home."

  One of the other police officers came up. “Umm sir, I didn’t find a murder weapon, but there are a lot of knives back there.” The officer looked much younger than me with blond hair and a small scar next to his lip.

  “Please don’t let them take my knives,” I begged Logan.

  “If they aren’t near the body, they don’t have to go Higgins,” he told the officer. He nodded and ran back to the storeroom.

  After a little while longer the coroner came in with his team. They wheeled in a stretcher with a body bag on it. For some reason, it started to feel real at this point. Higgins came out of the back carrying out the bloody boxes. Once again thanks to Rose’s labeling, I knew what was in it.

  "Oh wait," I said to him. "My mixing bowl is in there."

  "Sorry ma’am, it’s evidence,” he said. "Also, the blood seeped all the way down."

  "Oh no,” I watched as the moving bowl with the chip I'd named Pothole disappeared into the trunk of a police car. It had been with me from the beginning and I felt the loss deep inside. I know, silly to be sad over a bowl, but we'd weathered many cakes and cookies together.

  “Logan my bakery is going to fail now,” I said half serious.

  “It would fail if you cooked with a bloody bowl,” he said not looking up from his report. “You can go home now. Keep your phone handy in case I have questions.”

  “Clearly, I would wash it before I used it Logan. I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t know that I want to leave my bakery alone with the blood.”

  He raised his brows at me. “It will be okay; I doubt it’s scared of ghosts.”

  “I hadn’t even thought about a ghost!” I exclaimed putting my hands to my cheeks. I was going to need someone to bring a lot of sage. I had a feeling Tom’s ghost would be the kind to break and rattle my dishes.

  While I let the nightmare of that resolution sink in, the coroner took Tom out on a stretcher. He was zipped up in the body bag, and I whispered a quiet, “please don’t haunt me mean Tom,” as it went by.

  As soon as I got home, I rushed into the shower. I needed to wash the whole thing away. I called Masie and Rose to come over pronto I had news.

  “I’m so tired Coco,” Rose said, “can it wait until tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got a new episode of Project Love on Broadway,” I sing-songed, “and I’ll make you thin mint strawberry cookies.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there,” she grumbled.

  “I planned on reading in a bubble bath,” Masie said, “soaking til it’s cold, then rerunning it.”

  “I’ll make Chocolate Droppers,” I said, knowing those were her favorite. “Plus, I think tonight Alabama is finally going to tell the lead about all the things North Dakota said.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there soon,” she said and hung up.

  I started mixing Rose’s favorite first. These two dessert treats were of my own invention and I didn’t sell them in the store. I’d taken all the things my friends loved to make them their ideal treats and they’d been hits. Birthdays, big news days, and days when you had to tell your best friends about a murder. They were the perfect snack.

  The chocolate droppers wouldn’t take long. I didn’t sell them because they had an
unfortunate name and a round shape. They both arrived at the same time and rushed inside.

  “I smell my droppers,” Masie said rubbing her hands together.

  “So,” I said, “did you guys hear why the police had to come to town?”

  I figured they did. Most of the time someone would hear what happened on a police scanner and start a phone tree where they called everyone to tell them. They’d gotten the news, all right, but they’d gotten it all wrong.

  “Mom said someone got hospitalized by a mad badger,” Rose said moving towards the stove to look at her cookies.

  “Angela called and said someone got bit by a snake or three,” Masie said.

  What's the deal with all the animal mauling? Good grief!

  “No, someone got murdered at the Mad Hatter bakery,” I said. The timer went off to get Rose’s cookies out and I moved over to the stove shooing her away.

  Once they were out, I turned around to see their reactions. Both of my friends just stared at me. I watched as they started to realize what I’d said.

  “That’s where we work,” Masie said her eyes getting wide.

  “Who was murdered?” Rose asked reaching for one of the cookies and burning her finger.

  “Patience,” I told her. “Mean Tom, the mover,” I said.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Rose bent down in the face of her latest client, a giant German Shepherd. She yawned loudly. They’d not gone to bed until later because they’d talked about Tom the dead guy for a long time and then watched the show. By the time Rose got home it was after midnight.

  “We have to clean your anal glands again? Hercules, you're killing me!.”

  Hercules tilted his head like he understood. Then he barked.

  “Okay big boy, let's get this over with.”

  For some reason, Tuesday mornings were her busiest.

  She moved him over to the sink to prepare for the worst part of her job. While getting set up and putting on her rubber gloves, a man came in. Rose started to say something to him but then realized he was on the phone.