Pastries and Puzzles Page 4

  Masie had been in the hotel plenty of times during her fling with Dirk that she knew her way around fairly well. We snuck in through the same door we’d went through when we came to pick up my things.

  It was late enough that there wasn’t a full crew on staff at the moment. We managed to slink down the hall with only a few bumps and bruises along the way.

  The door to the staff locker room was located near the reception desk. A middle-aged woman was standing at the computer. She looked bored.

  “She might recognize me. Rose, you have to distract her,” I whispered.

  Rose nodded. She strode towards the desk, back straight, with an air of authority and confidence. “Good evening. I wanted to ask a question about the rooms. I’m not too pleased with the decor in mine. Are they all designed the same?”

  The poor woman looked startled. Talking about the interior design of the hotel rooms most likely wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she’d come to work tonight.

  “My room is a sickly green color. Are all the rooms painted the same?” Rose continued.

  That was our cue. Masie and I hustled over to the door and pushed through. I stayed by the door, so if anyone came through, I would be able to tackle them. Might as well add assault to my now growing police record. Or, at least, I could warn Masie.

  Masie crept over to the row of lockers. Before I knew what she was doing, she shimmied what appeared to be a putty knife into the slit of one of the doors. It popped open with a quiet clang. Dang...get a few Moscow mules in her and she's a freaking Houdini.

  She shuffled through the contents of the locker and turned around to face me, twirling a lanyard key card between her fingers.

  I stared wide-eyed.

  “And where, might I ask, did you learn to do that?” I demanded.

  “You know...around.” The grin on Masie’s lips was smug.

  We couldn’t help but let out a few small giggles.

  We peered out the door. Rose caught my eye and motioned with her finger for us to come out. She droned on about what colors would give guests a more positive experience.

  When Masie and I were out of sight, she said, “Well, it’s getting late. I wouldn’t want to miss any of my beauty sleep.” She turned and marched away, leaving the confused receptionist staring after her.

  We managed to make it to the elevator and up to the right floor without being seen. Masie used the key to unlock the door, and we hurried in. Rose stayed in the hallway to be our lookout. It felt very criminal, in a ‘non-criminal searching for answers’ kind of way.

  Masie and I started digging around. Masie pulled out dresser drawers, pushing through the clothing inside.

  I went over to the bed and pulled the blankets back. Struggling to lift the mattress, I peered underneath before dropping it back into place.

  The mattress had a full zippered case over it. The kind that helped to keep bedbugs out. A creepy crawly feeling tingled over my skin at the thought.

  I was about to smooth the blankets back into place, when I noticed a two-inch gap where the zipper wasn’t closed all the way. There was a rectangular outline underneath the cover.

  Peeling the zipper back further, two envelopes fell out and onto the floor. I picked them up and pulled the paper out of one.

  I gasped in shock. This was a warning letter. I opened the second one. Another warning. Both letters demanded Gilbert to stay away from Haverfield, or he’d regret it.

  Someone hadn’t wanted him here.

  Of course, plenty of people hadn’t wanted him here. But this was a little different.

  Shoving the letters in my pocket, I turned to tell Masie what I found. Rose rushed through the doorway, falling back against it as it closed.

  “Warner Abernathy just stepped off the elevator. He’s coming this way, and he’s got a police officer with him.”

  Chapter 9

  “Oh, no. No, no, no. This can’t be happening,” I panicked.

  My breathing started to come in ragged puffs of air that wheezed through my lips. My skin was cold and clammy. Did someone turn on the heat? I felt like a cupcake in the oven. Only instead of batter rising, my blood pressure was.

  “I’m already a suspect. Anyone who finds me in here might think I was trying to destroy evidence. If the police find me in here, I’m finished.” I bit my bottom lip, nervously.

  “I was certain something like this would happen. I told you this was a terrible idea,” Rose scolded. I knew from the tone of her voice that she was as afraid for me as I was for myself, and when she squeezed my hand, I tried to find a moment of calm.

  But no such luck. I was panicking.

  “What are we going to do? I can’t go to prison,” I cried, sucking in a deep breath.

  There was no way out of the room. I raced over to the window, jerking on the latch. It slid open. I saw the cars down below. They looked like little toys. “People survive falls from several stories up. Right?”

  “Perhaps next time we’ll think of an exit that doesn’t involve us dying,” Rose yelped.

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Rose,” Masie exclaimed.

  Turning on her heels, she stormed towards the door and yanked it open before disappearing into the hallway. Rose and I stood stunned for a fraction of a second before racing after her. We stopped at the door and peeked out through a crack.

  Masie’s voice echoed through the hallway. She cornered Warner and the policeman several doors down. They must not have seen which room she came out of.

  Mr. Abernathy’s eyes widened, like a deer caught in headlights. The police officer’s brows drew down in a tight frown, as if he was trying to decide whether or not Masie needed subduing. His hand rested on the handle of his baton.

  “We broke up,” Masie wailed, flinging her arms in the air.

  Were those real tears in her eyes?

  “Miss Campbell, I don’t think...” Warner stuttered.

  “You can’t fire Dirk. He was so in love with me. How could he not have been? I mean, look at me.” Masie demanded, running her fingers down her sides and cocking a hip.

  Warner and the policeman stared, mouths open.

  “I know he’s devastated. Without me by his side, he might not be able to concentrate on his work like he used to. Please, don’t hold that against him.” She batted her eyelashes innocently, lacing her fingers together under her chin.

  Mr. Abernathy’s face turned tomato red. The policeman coughed out a choked laugh.

  “You know he’s usually such a wonderful employee. It will take some time for him to get over me. Months even. I was the frosting on his cupcake,” Masie assured.

  As she continued, she slowly stepped to the side. Soon, Mr. Abernathy and the policeman’s faces were angled away from the hotel room where Rose and I observed the scene like mice hidden at the baseboards.

  Mr. Abernathy’s body was rigid. A hysterical ex-girlfriend of one of his employees was undoubtedly the last thing he expected to encounter when he headed up here. Even the police officer appeared as though he hadn’t received enough training for this type of situation.

  With the attention of the two men averted, Rose and I slipped out of the room. We crept to the other end of the hall and hurried down the stairwell before anyone could see us. By the time we made it to Daisy, my yellow car, Masie had pranced out the front entrance like she owned the entire place.

  Rose drove, and we made it back to my apartment without further incident. I flopped down on the couch and turned on a reality TV show.

  Masie went into the kitchen and grabbed her double boiler, some milk, cocoa powder, and three mugs. When the cocoa was ready, she filled one with a generous amount, sprinkled a few mini marshmellows on top and handed it to me.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No problem,” she replied.

  “No, I mean it. Thank you. Honestly, if you hadn’t gone out in the hallway like you did, I’d probably be sitting in a jail cell right now.” I shuddered at the thought.

 
; “You would have done the same for me,” she affirmed, and I would have, too. In a heartbeat.

  We were friends, more than just friends, and we looked after each other. No matter what. I was positive these two women would always have my back.

  As we sipped cocoa and listened to the TV in the background, we pondered the situation.

  “We know Gilbert received threatening letters. Did anyone else know about them?” Rose asked.

  “I think if the hotel knew, they would have set up extra security, wouldn’t they?” Masie added.

  “If there was some kind of security set up, where were they when Gilbert was killed? And who was threatening him?” I asked, blowing on my cocoa.

  “It had to have been Hestia. These letters look like they were cut out of books,” Rose stated adamantly, examining the letters in her hands.

  “I think that’s too easy of a conclusion. She’s too smart to put the spotlight on herself like that.” Masie disagreed.

  Rose paused. “Also I don’t know what kind of librarian would cut up books.” She shivered and I agreed.

  “What about the wording? Some of the phrases the writer uses are extremely specific, like they’re quotes of some kind.” I reached over and Rose handed me the letters.

  Pulling out my phone, I typed some of the phrases into the search bar. I glanced over the results. “Nothing comes up in a Google search. So much for the theory that everything can be found on the internet.”

  I dropped the letters on my lap.

  “Wait a minute,” I exclaimed, as a soft scent tickled across my nose.

  I lifted the papers to my face and gave them a long sniff. Rose and Masie stared at me like I’d completely lost my mind.

  “We were in such a hurry to get out of the hotel, I didn’t notice it before. These have the same scent as the contract I signed from the event company for the catering job at the hotel.” I raced over to my desk and pulled out my copy of the contract.

  Placing the letters and the contract side by side atop the desk, it was so obvious. They were exactly the same.

  “Arthur Kennedy is the town’s most prominent event planner. His company contracts all the events for the hotel.” Masie said.

  “He was also Gilbert’s childhood best friend,” Rose added.

  “When I went to his office to sign the contract, he’d droned on and on about how close he and Gilbert were and how Gilbert had made it so big with his self-help business. Only, it didn’t sound like he was proud of his former best friend. It sounded like he was irked that Gilbert had left him behind.” I stared at my two best friends.

  Could Arthur have written the threatening letters? And if he did, was he also a murderer?

  Chapter 10

  Well after all of the hoopla and drama of the day and night before, I decided that maybe at least for a little bit I could let Masie run the bakery. Not only would it give me a bit of a break from the odd stares and glares that I occasionally had been getting while there, but I could tell that it was genuinely creeping people out to see me. As much as I hated to admit it, my presence at the bakery wasn’t a positive one, at least not yet.

  The very second that I told Masie this I found it hard to contain the amused smirk that tried to spread itself on my face though, because she was absolutely thrilled to have the chance to boss Scooter around. I knew that they had a weird sort of dynamic and it was constant competition, but it didn’t change the fact that it was still sort of hilarious to see her be so smug about the chance to be Scooter’s boss, at least temporarily.

  “Yeah well,” I said with a chuckle. “Don’t take things too seriously, and make sure to keep the place running while I’m gone, okay?”

  “Alright, I’ll make sure I keep the cupcake poisoning to a minimum.”

  My eyes went wide and I glared, but then the two of us both blushed and laughed as she rolled her eyes, a wink shot my way as she meandered back behind the counter.

  “Sorry....too soon? Anyway, you don’t have to worry,” she assured me, a smile on her face. “I’ll keep this place running smoothly and you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got some things to attend to for now but I’ll check in later.”

  She gave me a wink and a nod and I made my way out of there and towards the local travel agent offices, and then to the office just next to it. Arthur’s office was connected to it since they sometimes worked together for booking events and whatnot, and as soon as I walked in he gave me a confused glance. His brow furrowed and he stood from his chair, a nervous and skeptical smile spread across his face as he reached across the desk to shake my hand.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to see you here. What can I do for you?”

  I smiled back at him and sighed, keeping calm as the lie spilled from my lips.

  “Actually,” I said with a grin, brows raised as I took my seat. “I wanted to talk to you about Mad Hatter partnering with a good event planner for future events.”

  His brows shot up in surprise and a tiny gasp left his lips, though he played it off with a quiet cough and cleared his throat before he sat back down.

  “You do?”

  “I do. I’ll be honest Arthur. I was impressed. Not only was the seminar run with precision and smoothly, but I still can’t believe that you got Gilbert to even come to Haverfield.”

  I could tell that this worked as his face lit up and he grinned, a small nod in my direction as he leaned back in his chair with a happy sigh.

  “Yes, well, these things can be quite difficult, but you know that I won’t take no for an answer. I had to work some of my magic to get him here, surely, but he saw that it was worth it to come. Plus, I knew Gilbert from when we were younger, you see. It gave me a good edge to know exactly how to use that to my advantage.”

  I felt it odd that if they were such good friends that he didn’t go, so I leaned forward and held his gaze.

  “Tell me Arthur, why weren’t you there yourself, then? You said you knew each other from childhood and you were the one who convinced him...so why not come and see the efforts of your hard work?”

  He sighed again, though this time not as happily, and he leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, and shrugged his shoulders as he spoke.

  “Oh I fully intended to, but I got called away at the last minute, and because of that I was only able to get there for the second half of the seminar.”

  Suddenly I got an idea. What if I actually quoted one of the letters that his office had seemingly sent to Gilbert? It was worth a shot.

  “That’s a shame, and it really is too bad that things all came crashing down on Gilbert when he came back to Haverfield.”

  “Mmm,” he agreed with a small nod, sighing. “It really is too bad. Poor fellow.”

  Well he certainly didn’t seem to react to that at all, so it made me wonder if maybe Arthur didn’t know anything about the letters. A person who had been involved with a letter as threatening as the ones I found wouldn’t have been so calm and dead-panned when one was quoted directly while talking about the victim.

  I wanted to ask him more, to dig deeper and really delve into what had happened and what his office had to do with the whole situation. If I could just get a few more clues, another lead, then maybe I could have found out some more, enough to have cleared my name.

  But if I pressed too hard then he might have gotten suspicious, so I decided to leave it there for the time being, at least until I had some more solid proof or leads. If he was guilty, and just hiding it really well, then he might have caught on to what I was doing if I persisted.

  “Well,” I said with a smile as I stood and reached into my pocket. “I really should be going. Here.”

  I handed him one of my business cards as well as a catering menu, and then gave him a sweet smile as he stood and shook my hand again.

  “There’s a full catering menu and my business card there, don’t hesitate to contact me with any more opportunities, okay?”

  He nodded
at me and I quickly left, not wanting to spend another minute in his office.

  Chapter 11

  I made my way back to the bakery after my visit with Arthur, and although I felt fresh out of ideas as to what to do next in that very moment, I was looking forward to seeing the samples that Masie and Scooter had done up for me, samples that would help be figure out what to use for the competition. I needed my best if I had any chance of winning. At least those ideas would get me somewhere, if being the death baker wasn’t a disqualification.

  “What do you have for me that can change my bad headlines to good?” I asked with a sigh.

  Scooter and Masie immediately bombarded me with their food and trays.

  “We have some divine options,” Masie said.

  Scooter cocked his head to the side and crossed his elbows. “I’d say there’s a winner in the mix.”

  After a moment of stammering and the two of them talking over each other I sighed and gave them both a smile, and gently took both trays and sat down at a table out back and just out of view.

  Scooter made a surprisingly beautiful lemon tart, icing sugar sprinkled over the top using a stencil with the bakery’s signature font, over a bed of lemon-flavored whipped cream. There was lemon zest as garnish one on the side and a dollop of vanilla lemon sauce along the edge of the plate, and my jaw nearly dropped when I saw it. I couldn’t believe how absolutely stunning it was visually. When I took a bite, a happy sigh escaped my lips as the flavors hit my tongue. Well-balanced between sweet and tart, though it could probably use just a touch less sugar, it was very good.

  Maybe life was just showing me the traits of the sour side, but my amazing friends didn’t need to hear any of that.

  “Scooter, this is beautiful.”

  He gave me a lopsided grin and a cocky chuckle. Though his cheeks were tinged with just enough of a pink that I could tell that he appreciated the compliment.

  He left me to my critique and trotted back out front, presumably to help Masie with what sounded like some actual customers, which was a relief. Not that Scooter was leaving, but that there was enough of a customer presence to warrant him being out front to help as well.