Case of the Butter Cream Cookie Hanging
Page 10
"It's been three hours darling. If you haven't yet, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news but.."
"Why did you even come, if all you were going to do was complain?" Beatrice snapped.
"The free wine of course," Stella said, holding her now empty glass in the air with a smirk. Beatrice sighed, picking up the bottle of wine and refilling it for her.
It had been three hours of brainstorming, and still, the three official members of the Cookie Club were no closer with coming up with a solution. The problem of course being, how to catch Ms. Elwin.
There just didn't seem to be a solution. She was far too smart for that, and far too ahead of the game. She knew that Beatrice was on to her and would, therefore, be extra careful in everything she did. Beatrice wouldn't even be surprised if she and Mr. McKay went on a hiatus for a while. That's how dedicated to the cause Ms. Elwin was likely to be.
So far all they had gotten out of the brainstorm was light heads and empty wine bottles.
"I'm hungry," Sophie moaned. "Beatrice, why don't you have any food?"
"I told you why Sophie. I can order out if you like?"
"Gah, It's not the same," she pouted, tipping her empty glass upside down over her mouth in an attempt to drain the last few drops.
Perhaps the first time, Beatrice was out of treats. In the build up to Thanksgiving she had stopped baking and started dinner preparation. On top of that, she had also thrown out all her old leftovers in order to make room.
The only problem was that she had become so preoccupied with this murder investigation that she hadn’t started any of the preparation yet. She was terribly behind and didn't see how she would be able to start anytime soon. Her dream of a big Thanksgiving dinner with all the family was slowly fading.
She didn’t even care right now. That was how much Beatrice wanted to solve this case. She would have happily abandoned Thanksgiving altogether if it meant catching Ms. Elwin.
"I'll... I'll be back," Beatrice managed as she got to her feet and made for the bathroom. She didn't actually need to go; she just needed to clear her head and get away from the two talking heads for a moment.
One minute later when Beatrice headed back for the living room, she noticed that Sophie had disappeared. "Where's Sophie?" She asked Stella
"Oh, I think she's rattling around the kitchen looking for something to eat," Stella waved dismissively, downing another glass.
Beatrice smiled as she shook her head at the desperation of her friend. She knew that she would be back in the room in a moment as there was nothing in the kitchen that could be eaten. Well, that was except for...
Beatrice could feel the blood drain from her face as the realization washed over her. She turned and rushed into the kitchen where Sophie was bent over, head in the open fridge.
"Sophie, don't!" Beatrice screamed.
Sophie stopped what she was doing, standing to face Beatrice. Resting in her mouth, still uneaten but one small jaw movement away from just that, was the poisoned cookie. Her eyes were wide and innocent as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Do not bite into the cookie," Beatrice warned.
"Why?" Sophie asked. Or at least that was what she most likely meant to say. It came out as a combination of vowels and sounds, muffled by the cookie, still half in her mouth.
"Because it's poisoned and if you eat it you will die," Beatrice said, seriously and to the point. Sophie wasn't the kind of person that one could dance around the point with.
"Oh," Sophie said, opening her mouth and allowing the cookie to fall to the ground, where it broke into a million little pieces on impact. "I thought you just didn't want your grandson to eat it for some reason." She pouted, looking upset, but that was most likely just because she didn't have a cookie to eat.
Beatrice let out a long sigh of relief. She couldn't believe that had almost happened. She only had herself to blame she supposed. She knew what Sophie was like and there was no way for her to know the cookie was poisoned. The only people that know that were her and Ms. Elwin.
And like that, Beatrice had a plan.
Without a word, she walked over and hugged her ditzy friend. So many times her antics had provided the key that was needed to solve a case. And again, the random thoughts of Sophie had provided Beatrice the answer.
She knew how she was going to get Ms. Elwin to admit to what she had to do.
The first thing she had to do was make some phone calls. Well, that and bake. As always, baking was going to prove vital in bringing down the murderer.
20
It was the best Cookie Club Bake Sale yet, and that's saying something when considering the speed in which it was organized.
The moment that she had come up with the idea to have a bake sale, Beatrice went on a phone call spree with more enthusiasm than she had ever done before. By the end she was legitimately tired; more than when she would come back from those walks with Stella.
It didn't matter, just as long as she was able to wrangle together enough participants. This time, she was able to get more than enough people to agree. After calling all the usual contributors, she extended her webbing to include others that she would never usually call, such as Little Miss, her rival from Little Miss Bakery, and even, and most especially, Ms. Elwin.
Calling Ms. Elwin was key to the whole plan, and she was relieved when Ms. Elwin agreed to come. She had after all insisted that she be invited to the next Cookie Club Bake Sale, so how could she say no? Especially when considering what the bake sale was raising funds for.
The whole thing was rather ingenious of Beatrice, truth be told. In order to get people to agree to come at the last minute, the cause had to be a good one, one that people could get behind. This time she organized the sale under the guise of raising funds for Thomas' funeral. Not only would this get people to come down and empty their wallets in record numbers, but it would also ensure that the teachers of the school were there, for that was most important.
The bake sale was to be held the eve of Thanksgiving and was promoted as a perfect way to both celebrate the holidays and even stock up on treats for the next day's lunch. As such, the majority of the treats were sold in batches this time around. Full cakes and a dozen cookies together were common occurrences, and people bought them in spades.
On top of the regular sales, there were, of course, the usual games and activities. Sophie had insisted on pie eating again as it was her specialty and as it was the night of the brainstorming session that they organized the bake sale, she was particularly hungry. As well as this activity, there was a pie throwing contest, a quick bake contest in which amateurs made a dish of their choosing on the spot and the most important and new addition to the sale, the cookie tasting contest.
The cookie tasting contest was the cornerstone of the bake sale and Beatrice's plan as a whole. It was sold as the definitive means by which to decide who made the best cookies in town. The three judges for the contest were to be Ms. Elwin, Mr. McKay, and Detective Rogers. She had asked each of them personally and considering the circumstances; none were able to turn it down.
Although, Detective Rogers was more than a little curious. "What are you up to?" He asked when she called him to see if he would partake in the contest.
"Nothing," Beatrice said smoothly. "Just make sure you're there for the contest."
The contest was to be held at the end of the day, giving Beatrice plenty of time to enjoy the sale as a whole. In her opinion, and despite her bias, it was the best one without a doubt. Not only had the crowds turned out in droves, but it was the little things that she relished.
First, Lucy won the quick bake, with ease. She produced such a spectacular batch of scones that it would have been hard to have denied her the prize. Beatrice was thrilled to see that Lucy employed the folding technique that she had taught Lucy earlier.
Another surprise of the day was the fact that Dave had turned up and stayed the entire day.
"How did you... who are..
." he mumbled, unable to get the words out. "How did you convince him to rehire me?" He finally managed, looking stunned.
"Never underestimate your mother," Beatrice smirked, unable to hide the smile on her face. "I just hope this means I'll be seeing you tomorrow for dinner. Your sister and nephew are coming too you know?"
"I'll be there," he said with a broad smile. "Wouldn't miss it." And then he did the most unexpected of things, he stepped in and pulled Beatrice into a long, warm hug. It caught her off guard at first as it was probably the first time they had hugged in years, but once she composed herself, Beatrice returned his in force.
It was a perfect little moment, and right then Beatrice thought that even if her plan failed, the day would still have been worth it.
Then again, she knew that her plan couldn't fail. It was just too perfect.
--
The cookie tasting contest was a simple fair, so as to not risk any errors being made. It began at sunset, just as everyone had had their fill and were getting ready to call it a day. She billed it as a last hurrah for the bake sale, which is exactly what it was going to be.
There were the three judges, Ms. Elwin, Mr. McKay and Detective Rogers, sitting side by side on a long table in the middle of the sports ground where everyone could see. Beatrice wanted everyone to see, which is why all the games and music stopped when this particular contest began.
The competitors lined up at the end of the table, with a box full of their cookies. They then walked down the line of judges, allowing for each judge to eat one of their baked treats. The judge would eat the cookie, write down a score from one to ten and then move onto the next cookie.
There were ten people entered in the contest altogether, including Beatrice herself. She chose to go last for reasons that would soon become clear.
One after the other the competitors waited, slowly shuffling forward as their turn came. It was because she was last that Beatrice was able to take her time when she got to the first judge, Ms. Elwin.
Ms. Elwin was nothing but honey when she spotted Beatrice approached. "Ah, the star of the hour. Ms. Fletcher!" She beamed.
"Ms. Elwin, I wanted to say, in front of everyone, thank you for agreeing to this. And all the judges of course. It truly is appreciated."
"Oh, and we all appreciate you too," Ms. Elwin continued. "How about a round of applause for Ms. Fletcher and the Cookie Club?" Ms. Elwin said to the crowd who erupted into applause. When the crowd finally calmed down, she addressed Beatrice again. "Now, what have you got for us?"
"Oh, I think you're going to like these," she said, holding a wicked smile. "I baked them just for you." She stepped up to Ms. Elwin and opened the container, revealing the cookies inside.
She was hoping for a reaction and pretty much got the exact one she had been expecting. When Ms. Elwin saw the cookies inside the container her eyes popped from their sockets as her mouth dropped open. She stared at the cookies inside like she had been handed a death sentence.
The reason for this reaction was that these weren't regular cookies, but buttercream cookies, cooked to look as close to Ms. Elwin's own as possible. More than that, each one had a little cross carved into the top of them – the exact same way that was imprinted on the poisoned cookie that Thomas ate.
"I have to admit," Beatrice whispered, just loud enough so that only Ms. Elwin and perhaps a handful of others could hear. "I used your very own recipe to make these. Including one very, very special ingredient. Let's see if you can guess what it is."
Ms. Elwin's eyes were wide with shock now as she looked at the cookies then to Beatrice. Beatrice held the box up to her, indicating for her to take one. Ms. Elwin, hand dangling over the box, just couldn't bring herself to do it. Her hand opened and closed several times as if trying to decide if she should but never actually picking one up.
"That's odd," Beatrice said. "Here." And she held the box across to the hungry looking Mr. McKay. He had been eyeing them since they were revealed; no doubt he was able to recognize them as Ms. Elwin's. "Would you like one?"
Mr. McKay reached for the box eagerly, snatching a cookie out and shoving it into his mouth without so much as a thank you or courtesy nod.
What happened next was pure joy to watch.
Ms. Elwin turned to her lover, screaming "No!" as she slapped the cookie from his mouth. "Don't eat that!"
"What? Why?" Mr. McKay asked, looking nothing but surprised by Ms. Elwin's odd reaction.
"Because they're poisoned!" There was an audible gasp from the crowd as what she said registered. "She tried to poison me! You all saw it!"
"Poisoned?" Beatrice asked, acting the part. "What are you talking about?" And with that, she reached into the container, picked up a cookie and took a bite. Chewing and swallowing as she moaned with delight. "Why on earth would you think that they were poisoned?"
It was kind of funny, but Beatrice had always picture Ms. Elwin as being the cool and rational type. She didn't seem to be the kind of person that would give in to her emotions at all; cooler heads always prevail. So, what she did next was about as out of character as Beatrice could have imagined.
Frozen, Ms. Elwin looked from the smug face of Beatrice to the curious faces of the crowd and finally to the very concerned face of Detective Rogers. She then turned and ran.
Before anyone could register what she had done, she was halfway across the sports field, gaining speed with every step. Not that it mattered, Detective Rogers was onto her in a matter of seconds, taking her down with an impressive tackle worthy of his old days as a lineman on his high school football team.
Beatrice watched the whole charade with the most satisfied grin on her face. All the while,
eating the buttercream cookie. She had to admit; they were very good.
21
Due to the extenuating circumstances, Beatrice was forced to postpone the Thanksgiving dinner by one whole day. Because of the bake sale, she had to organize, and the following arrest that came after it, she just didn't have time to get into the kitchen and cook up the feast that everyone had come to expect. And with a reputation like hers, most had come to expect quite a bit.
She asked for an extra day, promising that if it were given it would be the best meal yet. And so, with a promise like that, her guests graciously accepted.
It was, therefore, the day after Thanksgiving that Beatrice and her eight guests sat around her dining room table, all ready to tuck into what Beatrice had praised as her finest meal yet. The guests included Sophie and Stella, Stella's fireman date, Detective Rogers, Dave and Lucy, Evelyn and Trevor. It was the first time that her whole family had sat together at one table in years and Beatrice couldn't have been happier.
The conversation was varied and marvelous in all areas, but the department that it focused on the most was without a doubt the details surrounding the investigation of Thomas' murder. Everything from Beatrice's discovery of the poisoned cookies to Rogers' tackling of Ms. Elwin was talked about, exaggerated and laughed about.
"Five whole pies!" Sophie beamed, holding her hand up to show the number five. "And that wasn't counting the ones I had eaten before the contest started,” she finished proudly.
"Why would you eat pie before a pie eating contest?" Stella asked, looking shocked by the very concept of eating so much.
"I don't understand the question," Sophie said, scrunching up her face in genuine confusion and much to the delight of the table.
If Beatrice was to be honest, she was barely paying attention during the entire dinner. At the head of the table, she was more than happy to sit back and watch. She watched with happiness as her son passed her daughter a plate of food. She watched with delight as her grandchildren laughed between one another at a joke they were telling. And she watched with absolute love as the people she cared about most in this world all together, under her roof for this most special of days.
The murder of Thomas was a terrible thing, and its subsequent investigation was necessary; both for the honor
of Thomas and for Beatrice’s own peace of mind. Up until that point, Beatrice had been bored.
She wasn't bored during the investigation, not for a moment, but she had mistaken this lack of boredom for happiness. It was the same mistake that Stella had made when she first diagnosed Beatrice over a week ago. But the investigation wasn’t a cure, merely a distraction.
True happiness was staring Beatrice in the face. When it was all said and done, this was where Beatrice belonged, not in a car, stalking a possible killer, or even in the kitchen baking up goods in an effort to distract. Where she belonged was with her family and friends.
It was a warming thought and one that stayed with her as she reached forward and took a buttercream cookie off the table and biting into it. She might try, but she couldn't deny that they really were quite delicious.