And Then There Were Crumbs--A Cookie House Mystery

by Eve Calder

  Chapter 50

  Maxi sat at the bakery’s kitchen table as Kate pummeled a shiny ball of dough. Oliver was curled up snoozing at the florist’s feet. The sun was sinking fast over the Gulf.

  “OK, just whose face are you seeing when you punch the daylights out of that poor, helpless blob of dough? Stewart Lord or the floozy real estate chica?”

  “If it was true, if there really was a sinkhole, why would Lord be trying to buy downtown? I mean, what can you do with land once it has a sinkhole?”

  “Nada, nothing. The whole area would become unusable. You couldn’t even park cars on it. It would be a money pit for real.”

  “But Lord was trying to buy parcels.”

  “At super low prices,” Maxi interjected.

  Kate nodded, slamming a fist into the dough. “And he was telling owners their property was going to drop in value.”

  “While he was telling his buddies about the sinkhole,” Maxi finished. “And who were his buddies? I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with that jerk.”

  “I asked Manny the same thing. Apparently, a lot of the people from the consortium were from his club—the Emerald Coast Golf and Country Club. From what Manny says, it’s gorgeous. On the mainland, right on the water. And it’s a hotbed of up-and-comers. Doctors, dentists, chiropractors. People who have a good bit of extra money to invest.”

  “And our friend Lord just happens to have a place to invest it,” Maxi said.

  “And a decent track record with property,” Kate said. She paused, turning the new information in her mind, like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. “OK, why do you make a fire?” she said suddenly.

  “Ay, is this one of Javie’s riddles?”

  “Close. An old joke in restaurant circles. Man runs a restaurant for years, and the place just keeps losing money. Right before he goes bankrupt, it burns down. And he puts in for the insurance. But he’s a lousy arsonist, and he gets caught. So the arson inspector asks him, ‘Why did you do it—why did you set the place on fire?’ And the guy says, ‘I had to make a fire ’cause I can’t make a flood.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Kate grinned. “A little gallows humor from an industry where you work all hours and never know if you’re going to have a job next week. I think Lord was making a sinkhole—or the rumor of a sinkhole—because it was going to get him what he wanted.”

  “Downtown Coral Cay!” Maxi exclaimed.

  “Exactly.”

  “He was using the sinkhole to sink the property values,” the florist breathed.

  “All he had to do was start the rumor and make sure it caught fire. Not only would all the downtowners be trying to sell, but he’d get their land for cheap.”

  “But he wanted to build,” Maxi said.

  “After he’s collected the land, he commissions another report. This one reveals that the first report was wrong. The land is solid. And he owns all of it. Heck, he doesn’t even have to share it with his consortium buddies. I’m guessing they were just a convenient front—an excuse for him to spread the phony information.”

  “If any of them suspected he was cutting them out of the Coral Cay deal, they could have killed him,” Maxi said.

  Kate nodded. “And that crowd of doctors and dentists at his country club would have no problem getting their hands on the drug that killed him and Muriel Hopkins.”

  Chapter 51

  Early Monday morning, as Kate walked into As Time Goes By, she was amazed by how warm and welcoming it felt.

  The antique shop looked nothing like the dark, hole-in-the wall stores she’d explored in her travels. This space was large and bright—laid out like a private house. The wood had a polished glow. The fixtures gleamed. And there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. Or that sickly scent of mildew and mothballs that haunted some antique shops like a spectral presence.

  Instead, she smelled furniture polish, vanilla candles, and a lingering waft of perfume. Expensive perfume.

  Rosie emerged from the back room carrying a tan leather day planner in one hand and a gold pen in the other. “Hey there, Kate! So glad you stopped by.”

  Kate smiled. “I know this is small, by comparison,” she said, holding out the large, white bakery box. “These are my grandmother’s special holiday cookies. I baked a fresh batch this morning. My way of saying thank you.”

  “No need, but we never turn down cookies,” Rosie said with a twinkle in her eye. “Especially my better half. Andre, we have a guest!”

  Andre Armand stuck his head through the burgundy curtain at the back of the store. His face lit up in a broad grin. “No returns!”

  “No chance!” Kate replied.

  “She brought cookies. How about some coffee?” Rosie called.

  “Ah, bien! Let me prepare a fresh pot.”

  “This place is beautiful,” Kate said, her head on a swivel. “And it’s so sunny and bright. Usually antique stores are—” she started before catching herself.

  Rosie laughed. “I know, right? Like someone’s dusty old attic. And that’s exactly what we didn’t want. I mean, I love antiques. But I don’t want to spend my days working in the dark picking my way through cobwebs and doilies. And that’s not the atmosphere that makes customers happy, either. We wanted it to be like visiting a friend’s house—a friend with really good taste.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Kate admitted. If Evan’s mother ever found this place, she’d pick them clean in less than an hour. Right down to the delicate silver candlesticks.

  Andre came out of the storeroom minutes later with a French press and three exquisite porcelain cups and matching saucers balanced on a shiny silver tray.

  He set the tray on a chocolate-colored ottoman between them.

  Kate picked up the cup and brought it to her lips. The coffee was strong and black, enclosed in china so fragile it reminded her of an eggshell.

  Andre opened the bakery box. “Oh, magnifique!”

  “My grandmother used to serve them at Christmas,” Kate said. “But Maxi says we could use a little of the holiday magic right now.”

  He plucked a sugar-dusted treat from the box and popped it into his mouth. “Oh, bon! Très, très bon!” he said happily.

  Rosie nibbled on a cookie. “Oh, this is good.” She quickly polished it off and reached for another.

  “Anise and almond,” Kate said. “As a kid, I nicknamed them pickle cookies, because they’re shaped like those little cocktail pickles.”

  “Ha, I like that,” Andre said, plucking several more from the box and putting another in front of Rosie.

  “They’re sweet but not too sweet,” his wife said, smiling. “Luscious.”

  “There’s a lot of butter in there,” Kate said ruefully. “I think that’s why my grandma pretty much only made them at the holidays. If we’d had them in the cupboard year-round, that would have been dangerous. The almonds give it a certain richness, too.”

  “I’m glad to have something good to associate with anise,” Rosie said blissfully. “Something yummy and happy.”

  Andre nodded and put another cookie in his mouth, crunching contentedly.

  “What do you mean?” Kate asked, retrieving a cookie from the box.

  Rosie shook her head. “It was just something Muriel mentioned. Another habit of her lovely boss. He was a smoker. But he didn’t want anyone to know. So he was always sucking on these anise breath mints. According to her, he positively reeked of them.”

  Chapter 52

  After Kate flipped the sign on the bakery door to “open,” she grabbed the ancient avocado phone on the wall and dialed the flower shop.

  “Flowers Maximus, this is Maxi.”

  “Maxi, I can’t leave the shop right now, but I learned something that could help us. Can you come over for your next coffee break?”

  “Of course. See you soon!”

  Kate stared at the phone in her hand as the line went dead. She shrugged. The florist must have had a customer.

 
; Maxi breezed through the front door less than a minute later, with Oliver by her side. “So what’s the news?”

  The pup stretched his neck, put his nose high, and sniffed furiously. Then he trotted into the kitchen and stationed himself by the table. Like a guard on the alert.

  “As Oliver’s already deduced, I’ve got some cheddar biscuits cooling. How about you pour us a couple of mugs and I’ll grab us a plate?”

  “Don’t keep a poor old flower lady in suspense. ¿Qué pasa?”

  “I think I know who broke into the bakery.”

  “Well, I still don’t think it’s Carl. Or Harp.”

  “Stewart Lord,” Kate said.

  “No!”

  Kate nodded. “Think about it. The guy was always impeccably dressed—right down to the soles of his handmade shoes. And I found out from Rosie and Andre that he was a smoker who was constantly sucking some kind of anise breath mints. Muriel used to talk about the smell. And he died the next day. So we never considered him as a suspect.”

  “But why would he break into the bakery?”

  “No idea. But I have a feeling it had something to do with his plans to buy the shop. And Coral Cay.”

  “Maybe he was looking for something,” Maxi said. “Something he could use against Sam. To make him sell.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t know I was upstairs when he broke in—but he found out pretty quick. So he probably didn’t have a chance to finish what he started.”

  “And the next day, he was gone,” Maxi said. “So he couldn’t try again.”

  “Which explains why the break-in was a one-off.”

  “It makes sense. But can we be one hundred percent sure?”

  “No,” Kate admitted, shaking her head. “Not yet. I smelled three things in the shop right after the break-in. Cigarettes, anise, and something else. Something cloying—like a sweet soap or cologne or deodorant. And so far, I can only link Stewart Lord to two of the three.”

  “Plus the hard shoes,” Maxi added.

  “Plus the hard shoes,” Kate conceded.

  “But we also found that Coral Cay has a lot more smokers than we thought,” Maxi said, grabbing a biscuit, breaking off a piece, and slipping it to Oliver. “And we learned a few of them have hard shoes, too.”

  “I can’t explain it, but this just makes sense. It’s a sneaky move. And Lord was a total sneak. And it fits the facts we have. I mean, Harp likes anise. But not so much that we ever smelled it on him. And both he and Carl smoke, but secretly. So secretly that we never smelled cigarettes around them.”

  “Yeah, because their wives would kill them,” Maxi said.

  “Exactly. But Stewart Lord walked around exuding a cloud of the stuff. And…”

  Kate paused. She recalled the moment Lord entered the bakery. Something about him had made her skin crawl.

  “What is it?” Maxi asked.

  “When Lord walked into the bakery, for some reason I just wanted to run.”

  “Well, yeah, he was a real cabrón.”

  “No, I mean, this was visceral. Before he ever opened his mouth. Before I knew who he was. Or why he was there.”

  “His smell,” Maxi said simply.

  Kate nodded. “I may not have realized it at the time. Not consciously. But the last time I smelled it—that mix of scents—I was afraid for my life.”

  “So when suddenly it’s there again—thump, thump, thump—your heart beats the mambo, and you want to run away.”

  Kate nodded. “I want to know for sure. If it was him. And why. This could really help Sam. But how do we find out?”

  “I have an idea,” Maxi said, grinning. “How do you feel about a little road trip?”

  Chapter 53

  As they cruised over the bridge toward the Florida mainland, Maxi cranked up the radio. “Pitbull,” she explained. “I love this song!”

  Kate realized it would be the first time she’d left the island since she’d arrived. This time, with all the windows down and the breeze coming off the bay, they didn’t even need air conditioning.

  “Are you sure about this?” Kate shouted over the wind. “The plan, I mean.”

  “We can wait until we think of something better, or we can go with what we got,” her friend said, slowing the Jeep for traffic. “I say, ‘Go for it!’ What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Kate had a mental picture. The two of them sharing a holding cell next to Sam. And Peter, on the other side of the bars, shaking his head sadly. She dismissed it and tried to focus on the bright sunshine and the blue water lapping beneath the bridge.

  “You think Justin will be OK in the shop?” Kate asked finally.

  “Oh yeah. He’s very responsible. I let him watch the flower shop for me all the time.”

  “What about the flower shop? I don’t want to cost you any business.”

  “I usually close Sundays and Mondays. Or most Mondays. But I also forwarded the phones to the bakery. That way, Justin is really watching both shops. No sweat! And he’s got my cell number, if he needs us. When you run a store, you can’t worry about every little thing. If you do, the stress will kill you. But first it will make you very unhappy.”

  Forty minutes later, they pulled into an office park just outside Bonita Springs. It was a collection of rounded mirrored buildings, some tall, others squat.

  “See that one, there?” Maxi said, pointing to the tallest one in the park. “Lord Enterprises is on the top floor.”

  “If this doesn’t work, will Peter post my bail, too?”

  “Relax,” Maxi said, retrieving the long gold box from the back seat. “Have a little faith in the power of flowers.”

  “Shouldn’t we look more like delivery people?” Kate asked as they marched across the parking lot.

  “I got news for you, this is what delivery people look like. I make deliveries all the time. This is exactly what I wear. Jeans and a T-shirt. Here, if it makes you feel better, you can hold this,” she said, handing Kate a clipboard with a pen attached. “I deputized you. You are now officially an employee of Flowers Maximus. But don’t let all that power go to your head.”

  Kate took a deep breath. Her heart was thumping and her limbs felt like lead.

  “You know what to do, right?” Maxi asked as they passed through the front door and headed for a bank of elevators.

  “After we locate Lord’s office, you’re going to distract his new secretary,” Kate whispered. “And I’m going to slip into his office and nose around. With my actual nose.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before—what if I get caught?” Kate asked as they entered the elevator and Maxi pressed “20.”

  “You’re not breaking in. They’re inviting us. So what if we wander a little? If someone walks in, just say you got lost. This building is big and round. I bet that happens a lot.”

  Kate was dubious.

  “OK, there’s one trick you can use, but save it for if you really need it,” Maxi said. “You hop from one foot to the other and say you’re looking for el baño. And you are in a super hurry.”

  “Does that work?”

  “It’s better if you have a squirmy toddler by the hand, but we have to use what we’ve got.”

  When the door opened, they were facing a reception desk. Apparently, the entire floor belonged to Lord Enterprises.

  But the desk was empty.

  “Lunch break or layoffs?” Kate asked sotto voce.

  Maxi shrugged. “C’mon,” she said, fast-walking to the back.

  “Where are you going?” Kate called softly as she followed.

  “Lord’s office. I make deliveries to places like this all the time. His office is gonna be as far from the reception desk as you can get. And he’s going to have the best view. The biggest glass window.”

  When they got to the other end of the office, Kate saw it. Two cherrywood doors. Raised gilt letters spelled out: “Stewart Lord, Esq., Owner and Founder.”


  But outside the door was a secretarial gauntlet: a cluster of three desks, all of them occupied.

  “Uh-oh,” Kate said quietly.

  “Just hand me that clipboard and get ready to do your thing,” Maxi said softly under her breath.

  The florist planted herself in front of the first desk in the group—directly opposite Lord’s door.

  “Ladies, I have a flower delivery for this office, and I’m hoping you can help me. Your boss, Mr. Lord, ordered a dozen long-stemmed red roses before he died. For one of you. The card is very personal. And it uses a pet name. The teenager who took the order over the phone? Unfortunately, the bobo garbled the real name. When I myself called to talk with Mr. Lord, I heard the awful news. You have my deepest condolences. But Mr. Lord has already paid for these roses. For a lady. So I must find her. And give her his beautiful gift.”

  The three women clustered around Maxi and the gold-foiled box, all talking at once. As they did, Kate slipped into Stewart Lord’s office.

  The lights were off. But one wall was glass and sunlight flooded the room. Suddenly this seemed like a really crackpot idea. Lord had been dead more than a week. Who knew how many people had been in and out of this office since then?

  Kate planted her feet and tried to get her bearings. The word “ostentatious” didn’t quite cover it. It was a virtual apartment. Off to one side Lord (or more likely his flunkies) had set up a conversation nook, complete with a sofa, several overstuffed chairs, a Persian rug, and a marble fireplace. Gas, she guessed.

  Lord’s desk and bookshelves sat atop a raised platform in front of the panoramic window, like an altar. On the other side of the room, an alcove off to her left housed a wet bar that looked more like a small kitchen. Next to that, another set of double doors.