Cozy Mysteries : Death by Cake - The Orange Marmalade Cake Murders: (Cozy Food Mysteries Women Sleuths Series, Bakery Mystery Books) (Murder and cake Book 2)

by Luna Snow

  Pam shook her head. “It’s not OK Abby. It’s OK for you. Everything I have is invested in this place. If it closed I don’t know what I would do. All you have to do is to run back to daddy.”

  She couldn’t help the words coming out. She loved Abby like her own sister, but money would always be the difference between them.

  “Hey Pam, I’m sure it won’t come to that. Now let’s not fall out eh. We have to stick together in times of trouble. Now let’s get this place tidied up.”

  The two pieces of cake had hardly been touched by the boys, but they had been pulled apart and all that remained was two plates full of crumbs. Most of the cake was either on the floor or on the table.

  “Look at all of this waste too, and they didn’t even pay for it.”

  “Try not to worry my dear.”

  The old ladies were looking over from the table by the window, and they had seen everything.

  “If there’s anything me or my sister can help with?”

  The young woman had almost forgotten her other customers, and Pam dried her tears quickly.

  “That’s very kind of you but I don’t think there is anything you can do. I’m just so sorry this happened. I hope it didn’t ruin your break. It’s normally so peaceful in here.”

  The two old women smiled back.

  “Well, it was rather exciting. My sister and I lead quite a quiet life and I’m sorry to say that we rather enjoyed it all, ‘a bit of a scene’ just like on the television. Of course we were both witnesses to the whole episode, so if Arnold Beecher does sue, or even that wretched Pegram family, then we can tell the police exactly what happened.”

  Abby’s eyes widened.

  “You know that horrible man?”

  “Well my dear he is part of our coach tour. We don’t know him that well, but we have heard him. He’s the kind of man who knows everything and can never be wrong. He’s over from the States for 6 months on a tour of the UK. Perhaps we can have a word with him on your behalf. We are all staying overnight in the Old George?”

  Shaking her head Abby tried to smile. She didn’t like to think of the two old dears confronting such a rude man. They looked so frail.

  “Thank you, but it’s OK? Let’s see if anything happens first. Now let me get you more tea. It’s on the house!”

  “That would be so kind. By the way I am Veronica and this is my sister Jean. Would there by any chance be any-more of that delicious orange cake. The stroke may have robbed my sister of her speech, but not of her appetite. Isn’t that right dear?”

  Jean smiled back in response.

  The old dears shared another piece of cake and before leaving the cafe, browsed through the old curio shop.

  “A lot of these things were new in our day dear.”

  Pam smiled as the sisters carefully handled the pieces on display.

  “We couldn’t help overhear Arnold Beecher raising his voice in here. What was all that about?”

  Pam stepped forward and picked up the vase that he had been so intent on purchasing and passed it to Veronica.

  “My, my, it’s a pretty piece”. Tipping the pottery upside down she peered at the bottom through her spectacles.

  “My great grandfather brought it back from India. I’m afraid I don’t know much more about it than that. I would never sell it; it’s got too much sentimental value attached to it.”

  Veronica studied the vase a while before handing it back to Pam.

  “Do you know anything about it?”

  The old woman laughed.

  “I’m afraid not my dear. My sister and I live quite simply you know, and the only antiques we have are the ones we have owned all of our lives. It is a pretty piece though and I don’t blame you for hanging on to it. Money isn’t everything is it Jean?”

  The sister nodded in agreement.

  “Well, we better head off. We have a guided tour around Blakethorpe Hall this afternoon and we don’t want to be late. Cheery bye for now.”

  Arm in arm the two old dears shuffled carefully to the door and stepped out into the sunshine.

  Abby had a splitting headache for the rest of the day. Fortunately it was a busy day and she didn’t have time to dwell on the matter of Arnold Beecher or the Pegram family, but by the time the tiny clock in the kitchen chimed 5 pm and she had set the sign on the door from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ , Abby Fisher was shattered.

  Sinking into a chair in the kitchen, she closed her eyes; the way she felt she could sleep for the rest of the day.

  Abby was almost asleep when Pam stepped into the kitchen.

  “Why don’t you come for a drink with me to the Old George? It would do you good.”

  It was the last thing that Abby wanted, but she was too tired to argue with her friend. Besides, she was right. She would only fret here on her own. The world always looked better after a gin and tonic.

  “Give me a few minutes to get changed and I’ll join you!”

  Chapter Three

  The ‘Old George’ was a 17th century coaching inn, and the old stable block had been converted into very comfortable accommodation for Bed and Breakfast guests. At this time of day only the locals could be found sitting around the bar or in the pretty beer garden at the back. Today was no exception, and as the two girls approached the bar they were greeted with smiles and nods.

  “Now ladies, what would you like?”

  Ted, the barman and owner of The George, had a florid face and was a genial host, and although married had a soft spot for the young ladies.

  Before they could answer, Abby felt a hand touch her softly on the arm.

  “I’ll get those Ted.”

  She recognised the voice straight away, it was Jo Thompson.

  Smiling, she turned to face him.

  “Seeing you twice in one day Abby, this is a treat, now what are you having?”

  The young woman blushed, not quite knowing how to respond to his remark. She wanted to say something witty and light, but her heart was beating fast and she felt the colour start to rise in her cheeks. It didn’t help that Pam was grinning inanely beside her.

  “A gin and tonic would be lovely Jo, thank you.”

  “What about you Pam?”

  Her gaze was drifting to a crowd of men sat outside drinking pints.

  “Oh, er same for me please Jo. Shall we sit outside?”

  Now it was Abby’s turn to smile. She could see Ben Slater was one of the crowd stood drinking outside.

  The sun was still hot as they sat on the bench under a magnificent lilac tree. It was a beautiful spot and Abby vowed to herself that she must make the effort to come out more often. She wondered if the fact that Jo Thompson was sitting next to her had any sway on her thoughts.

  “So, how has your day been girls?”

  His innocent question opened the floodgates, and within five minutes Abby had told him the entire story. It felt good to get it off her chest.

  Jo listened thoughtfully until she had finished, sipping at his pint whilst she unfolded the events of the day.

  “That’s the trouble with tourists. They come to places like this because they are unspoiled and then they expect the same service and amenities as in the city. And as for your American guy, I’m sure he’s just full of bluster. I wouldn’t worry too much about it all.”

  Pam wished she could feel so confident.

  “But he could sue us for thousands Jo, it could be the ruin of the business if he does.”

  Voices from inside the pub interrupted her train of thought. The speaker was clear and loud. It was Arnold Beecher and her heart sank. It was almost as if a cloud had just passed over the sun, and she shivered visibly.

  “That’s him, just stepped inside the bar. The trip from the Hall must be back. Try not to let him see us.”

  Jo couldn’t help from turning his head and straining his neck to see inside the bar. He needn’t have bothered for in a few moments the man was striding out with a glass of cold larger in his hand. Sitting on a bench
opposite, his bulky frame took up nearly the entire bench, as he mopped at his sweaty brow with a large handkerchief.

  Dipping her head, Abby tried to keep a low profile. The last thing she wanted was another encounter with Arnold Beecher.

  “Pam!”

  Ben Slater had just spotted the group and waved as he walked over to their table. Abby wished he wouldn’t be so loud. He was obviously already drunk.

  The American looked over to where they were sitting. He recognised Pam immediately and scowled.

  “Hey Limey’s. Killed anyone in your tea shop today?”

  After a moment he stood and started to walk over to where they sat. After a few steps he paused, and when he started moving forward again, it was with a limp.

  “I just want to let you know that I’ve already called my lawyer. He’ll be in touch. It’s going to cost you one hell of a bundle to compensate me. I’m betting that place of yours will be broke and closed down within 6 months.”

  He laughed and sipped at his cold beer.

  “Maybe we could do a deal. You give me that vase I was looking at earlier and we’ll call it quits?”

  Pam sat open mouthed as Abby stared at her.

  “He seems pretty keen on that vase Pam. Maybe you should reconsider?”

  Pam closed her mouth and glared at her friend.

  “Definitely not. Do you hear Mr Beecher? That vase is not for sale. You know how much it means to me Abby!”

  “But if he wants it so badly, then surely it must be worth something. Have you ever had it valued?”

  Pam shook her head and sipped at her gin.

  “No, I don’t care what its worth; it has sentimental value to me.”

  “But...”

  Pam stopped her friend short.

  “The answer is no Abby, and especially NO to someone as obnoxious as Mr Beecher over there. Do you hear me Mr Beecher N O NO!”

  The fat man shook his chubby features.

  “Your loss Miss. When my lawyer has finished with you, you won’t know what has hit you. It’s your little friends fault for her death trap of a cafe. Don’t be angry at me, it’s all her fault the stupid cow.”

  Jo Thompson had heard enough and stood up to face Arnold Beecher. Not wanting to feel left out, Ben Slater followed suit and soon both men were squaring up to the older man.

  “Steady on mate.” Jo was usually a peaceful man, but he could feel his blood start to rise. He had heard more than enough from Abby, and this man was even worse in the flesh.

  Ben Slater had already drunk several pints and he could already see red. Grabbing Arnold’s arm he pulled the man up close until their noses were almost touching.

  “Watch it mate, I’ve just about had it up to here with you. From what I have heard you owe these two ladies an apology.” Baring his teeth he almost spat in the man’s face.

  “My my, how the young men like to show off and impress their lady friends, it’s like a scene from the knights of old. You’ll be challenging me to a duel or even a jousting match next. Can’t you see I’m just an old man with an injury? What are you going to do; beat me up between you. Yet another case of aggression to add to my list?”

  Pulling Ben gently away, Jo narrowed eyes.

  “There was nothing wrong with your leg when you walked into the pub just now. You only started to limp when you saw us. You’re just an old fraud.”

  “Watch your mouth sonny, or I’ll have you for slander as well as your friend for assault!”

  Arnold Beecher was starting to get annoyed, especially when Jo started to laugh at him.

  “Ha, what a stereotypical American male you are. It’s just like watching one of those American cop shows from the 70’s. Book ‘em Danno!”

  The four young people all started to laugh. The whole situation was becoming surreal and it broke some of the tension; although it did little for Beecher’s blood pressure whose face twitched in response.

  “You will be laughing on the other side of your collective limey faces when my lawyer has done with you.”

  And with that he slowly limped back inside the pub, much to the merriment of the group.

  “We shouldn’t laugh at him; it will only make things worse.” Abby tried to keep a straight face but the gin had been strong and she was starting to relax.

  “I’ll get another round in.”

  Before the girls could protest Ben was at the bar.

  By 7:30 pm Abby was already yawing. It had been a long day.

  “I’m sorry to be a party pooper, but I have to get back, early start and all that.”

  Pam pulled a face; she was having a good laugh with Ben and didn’t want to leave. “I’ll stay a little bit longer; I don’t have to get up as early as you Abby.”

  It was true; Abby usually woke at 5 to bake for the day ahead, one of the reasons she rarely ventured out in the evening.

  “I suppose I should be getting a move on too; I have an early start, a baker’s lot and all that. Perhaps I can walk you home Abby?”

  Jo looked hopeful.

  Pam winked across at her friend and Abby felt herself go weak at the knees.

  “Well, I can manage, but if you’re going my way...?”

  She could feel her face start to blush again.

  The two set of down the hill towards the cafe. It was a beautiful, clear evening and a smell of lavender and honeysuckle lingered in the air.

  For a while they walked on in silence, just glad to be in each other’s company.

  “That old guy is just full of wind you know, everything will be alright. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If he bothers you again, let me know and I will sort him out for you.”

  Abby smiled. “I’m sure it won’t come to that. Thank you anyway.”

  “Thanks for what, I hardly did anything?”

  Abby looked into the clear blue eyes, Jo Thompson looked more handsome than ever.

  “You stood up for me tonight, but best of all you made me laugh. Thanks Jo.”

  They had reached the door of the cafe and they both stood in an awkward silence for a moment, before both speaking at the same time.

  “Do you want to come in for a coffee?”

  “Well, I suppose I better be off, it’s an early start tomorrow.”

  It broke the tension and both laughed.

  “I would like to come in for a coffee, but maybe another time. I really do have to be up early tomorrow.”

  “Me too.”

  Their eyes met for a brief second before he brought his face to hers and kissed her kindly on the cheek. His lips were soft, and Abby breathed in the faint smell of aftershave and sun.

  He turned to walk back along the road to where his van was parked.

  “I’ll see you soon I hope, for that coffee?” he shouted back down the street and she nodded and waved until he was out of sight.

  Abby stood in the doorway for several more minute, breathing in the warm evening air. She could still feel the spot on her cheek where he had kissed her. It felt good. The incidents of the day melted away towards the sinking sun. They were as nothing compared to this.

  She was falling in love.

  Chapter Four

  It was only 8pm and Abby suddenly felt full of life. She felt like dancing and did a quick jig up through the hallway, much to the astonishment of Frisky, who meowed loudly and hurried out of her way for fear of being trod upon. If she went to bed, Abby knew that she wouldn’t sleep, and instead headed for the kitchen at the back of the cafe. There was only one thing for it. She would make herself a pot of strong coffee and bake the cakes for the following day.

  The orange marmalade cake had sold out already and it was her best seller. She didn’t like to disappoint her customers, and besides, Jo might pop in for a piece.

  Abby sang as she whisked the eggs and beat together the butter and sugar. Her day had changed from being the worst day ever to the best day ever in a matter of minutes. Within two hours a magnificent orange marmalade cake stood proudly on
the work surface, along with a batch of cherry, sultana and cheese scones. The young woman stood back to admire her handy work. The day was finally taking its toll on her and suddenly she felt tired and it was a good feeling. She could have a lie in tomorrow now that the baking was all done. As Abby climbed into bed she moved the alarm hand on her clock from 5 to 8 o’clock. Three extra hours – it was a real luxury.

  As her head hit the soft and downy pillow, she had already started to dream about Jo Thompson.

  CRASH.

  A noise from downstairs awoke her with a fright and she sat up in bed with the quilt pulled around her. What on earth was the noise? She listened quietly, hardly daring to breathe; all was quiet.

  Perhaps it was the cat? Frisky often bought birds and mice into the house. Perhaps this time it was still alive and Frisky was chasing the poor creature from room to room.

  It was tempting to close her eyes again but her heart was still racing, the adrenalin starting to pump around her body. It would be best to check the situation. She looked at the clock on her bedside table; it was 12:45 a.m.

  Grabbing her dressing gown, Abby crept along the old landing and down the creaky stairs. If anyone was down there they would have heard her coming, but all was quiet.

  There was a draught blowing along the hall and as Abby approached she could see the reason, the door to the cafe was wide open and her heart started to beat even faster.

  What if there was a burglar in the shop, what would she do? Foolishly she had left her mobile phone upstairs. Perhaps if she kept near the door she could run out if there was a problem?

  The light from the window and open doorway shone into the empty cafe. It looked eerie in the half light, the old beams and timbers dark amongst the shadows. Abby didn’t believe in ghosts and had not witnessed any strange noises or sights in the place, despite it being over 400 years old. But tonight she suddenly thought about all of the people that had lived under this old thatched roof; men and women, boys and girls that had lived and died. People just like her. The thought made her shudder. As her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she started to feel bolder and walked towards the door, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. All was as she had left it; the tables and chairs neatly arranged, the cruets and the sugar bowls all clean and ready for the next day; all waiting.