Cream Puff Murder

by Sandi Scott

  “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so busy, I don’t know if I’m coming or going.” Colleen didn’t seem to suspect Ashley had overheard the argument. “I talked with the waiters,” she continued. “They’re ready to serve the desserts right after Hope is done.”

  “That’s great,” Colleen said with a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  Ashley smiled back. “Well, I hope everyone liked our food.”

  Colleen nodded but kept glancing at her phone. “Of course they did. You’re a great chef.”

  “Are you okay?” Ashley dared to ask.

  “Sure. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing. You just seem upset or something.”

  The women locked eyes with each other for a moment before Colleen revealed a more convincing grin.

  “Don’t worry about me, sweetie. It’s just been a long day, and Bobby can be very demanding. Actually—speaking of Bobby—I must go.”

  Ashley watched Colleen take off, only to stop and linger by the banquet hall door. Moments later, the lights brightened, signaling the end of the speech. Heads immediately turned to the dessert table, like sharks smelling blood. A crowd formed around the croquembouche, some taking pictures of Ashley’s masterpiece.

  She didn’t mind the food photography phenomenon. Patty always said that cuisine’s fleeting nature was what made it such a beautiful art; after painstakingly placing carnation petals and clover blossoms between the spun caramel, Ashley liked knowing that her work would be immortalized before disappearing down those rich gullets forever.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE NEXT DAY, Ashley pulled in to the back entrance of the Gulf Coast Women’s Club, mentally replaying the highlights of their biggest catering job yet. Her only regret was that she had not seen Ryan again after she tripped over herself and hid in the bathroom; she found herself wishing she could have told him about some of the hilarious kitchen bloopers of the night. The dessert spread had been such a hit that she’d been too distracted with all the compliments to clean up properly, accidentally leaving behind a few baking trays.

  She made her way into the kitchen and grabbed the trays. The kitchen door swung open, startling her. All the pans fell out of her grasp and clattered on the floor.

  “Ashley? What’re you doing here?”

  It was Sheriff Mueller, staring at her with a look of apprehension. Seagrass had always been such a peaceful town, so the odd time something did happen, it could be seen on Old Man Mueller’s face. Also, the fact that he wasn’t at the diner drinking coffee and brushing breakfast crumbs from his grey stubble, like every other morning, meant that something really bad had happened.

  “I’m getting my pans. What’s wrong?”

  His eyebrows scrunched together, wrinkling his forehead even more.

  “You were here for the event last night, and you cooked the food?”

  She nodded. “The desserts.”

  “Why don’t you come out here with me?”

  His tone was serious, but Ashley had always found a southern drawl comforting. She felt that if you had to get bad news, at least it sounded better blanketed with an accent.

  A crowd of Seagrass’s small police force was gathered in front of the side hallway, which was blocked off with caution tape.

  “We’re waitin’ for the state police to get here for forensics,” Mueller offered, taking a notebook from his pocket. “Would you mind answering a few questions?”

  “Uh, what’s this about?” She crossed her arms, wishing that she hadn’t thrown on sweatpants and a Texans jersey.

  He sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Colleen Abramson fell ill at the dinner last night. Someone found her in the bathroom this morning—deceased.”

  Her mind raced with questions. “Colleen? Dead? I just saw her. Talked with her. I stood right in front of her. How could she suddenly be dead?”

  “We don’t know much yet. Bobby says she grew ill near the end of the night and left to go to the bathroom. There was a miscommunication, and everyone at her table assumed that someone else had seen her home.”

  “They just left her there?” Ashley’s hand rose to her forehead, “and no one found her till morning?”

  “I know. Bobby feels terrible,” the sheriff said, “but by all accounts, it seems it was an honest mistake.”

  She felt guilty about her harsh tone, knowing that Mr. McCay would be a million times harder on himself. Her eyes were welling with tears.

  “I know this is hard, but there’s some things I need to ask you.” Mueller hesitated. “Please understand, I’ve gotta ask these questions. It’s my job.”

  Ashley wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Okay.”

  “Now, by all accounts, Colleen was a healthy young lady, but who knows, it coulda been a heart attack or something.” He placed his hand on her shoulder again. “Still, I gotta ask. You made the dessert, right?”

  “What?” Ashley was confused by the question. What did she have to do with any of this?

  Mueller grimaced. “They said all Colleen had to eat was dessert. And then—well, she got sick. I need to know what ingredients were in the cream puffs, and you need to confirm that you used proper food safety protocol to make them.”

  “What kind of question is that?” She could feel the heat rising up her chest into her neck. “Of course I did. I am trained by a world-renowned chef, you know. She’s the best in the business.”

  She knew that it wasn’t Mueller’s fault, yet she couldn’t help raising her voice. It didn’t matter how good the food was; any murmurs of a sick guest could cripple a catering business, not to mention a baker’s reputation. She took a deep breath.

  “What I mean—what I mean is that my food safety standards are among the highest you’ll find.”

  “Even so,” said Mueller, “I just need to get this information in order to rule it out.”

  Ashley rattled off the recipe from memory. “Flour, eggs, butter, sugar—” You couldn’t get any more basic than the standard pastry and cream filling recipe. The decorative flowers came from an organic grower, free of all pesticides and herbicides, and double washed with her own hands. It couldn’t be her fault, could it?

  “Did anyone else get sick? If it was only Colleen, it must have been something she’d had before.”

  “Darlin’, I know, but we’ve got to rule out something contaminating the portion Colleen ate,” Mueller said.

  “Poisoning. You’re talking about straight-up poisoning someone,” Ashley said. “I don’t make those kinds of mistakes, especially not with a partner like Patty, who’s always gone above and beyond food safety standards.”

  Mueller put his hands up defensively. “I’m not sayin’ you did. All I know is that the Texas heat can be fierce, and it’s not always easy to keep things at a cool temperature. If it was pois—uh, food-related—I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. I’ll call you if I find out anything else.” He started to leave the room, then stopped.

  “Now, I’m not going to release any information until we know something for sure, but you know how the people in this small town talk, and I can’t help the fact that people saw Colleen eat your food and know that she got sick afterwards.” He looked at her sympathetically. “I’ll call you if we find out anything else.””

  If they found out anything else. Mueller was nice enough, but Ashley’d seen enough sealed police records back when she dabbled in hacking as a teen to know that they didn’t have the resources to handle anything more complicated than the odd speeding ticket or disorderly tourist. At least the state police were coming, but they had a habit of not taking small-town matters too seriously.

  She went through the kitchen to the staff bathroom, once again seeking its soothing powers. How was she going to explain all this to Patty, after she’d risked so much to relocate and take a chance on Ashley?

  Staring at her blotchy face in the mirror sparked her memory of the previous night and the argument. Once she’d arrived home from the benefit and collapsed on
her bed, the question of the identity of the man arguing with Colleen had nagged at her. It didn’t seem important enough to give a lot of thought then but now? It could be a matter of life or death.

  She continued to ponder as she went into the stall for a minute, then, saw a glint of something in the toilet, like someone had failed to flush it down—a smart-phone. Recognizing the Texas flag symbol on the case, she realized that she’d seen this phone before. It was the same one Colleen had been fidgeting with last night, except now the case and screen were smashed to smithereens.

  If Colleen had died in the guests’ bathroom, what was her phone doing in the staff bathroom? And why had it also died such a violent death?

  Ashley retrieved meat tongs and a baking pan from the kitchen so she could pull the phone out and lay it on the pan, making a mental note to retire them from cooking duty. She wondered if she should tell Mueller about it and the argument, even though she couldn’t figure out who was yelling at Colleen.

  Would trace evidence be lost from the phone after it was submerged? Would the police even bother with that, being the underequipped department that they were? More likely, they’d be satisfied with the conclusion that the dessert made Colleen sick, leaving Ashley looking guilty by association.

  This phone, this beautiful broken phone, gave her hope that maybe there was a way out of this mess.

  Handing it over without first saving the data herself, though, made her nervous. There had been a famously fumbled case a few years earlier- when the state crime lab accidentally lost data by overwriting it with their own files. At the very least, she could make a copy, as she couldn’t imagine the state police would do a better job recovering the phone data than she could. She hid the phone between two pans, thinking that no matter how hard she tried, she could never escape the seduction of some exciting detective work after all.

  When she got back to the car she realized that she’d left Dizzy, her faithful, loving, addle-headed dog, in the back seat. When she’d saved her from the pound, they’d told her that she was a “Bitsa. Bitsa this and bitsa that.” She mostly looked like a Labrador crossed with a hound dog. Ashley had only intended to go inside briefly to get her trays, but Dizzy was still in her harness, sitting up, pricking her ears while licking her lips and staring at her intently.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Diz.”

  She put the trays on the seat next to the dog and gave her a scratch behind the ears before getting in and taking off for Fresh Start Kitchens, a shared commercial kitchen where she, Patty and other food entrepreneurs in the community rented space to do their food prep. Ashley dreamed of having her own store one day where she could sell her sweets, but for now, her baby Seagrass Sweets only did catering. It was the best option for her financially; she didn’t have to take on a lot of risk with a store lease, but she could still bring in money and set aside some of her profit each month. Plus, she loved having space to share with Patty and others in the same business.

  Her head was reeling from the news about Colleen and the possible poisoning. As she drove along the riverside on her way back to the kitchen, she felt two canine eyes tracking her thoughts.

  Sure enough, when she looked into the rear-view mirror, she saw Dizzy in the back seat, staring at her like a mother waiting for her child to confess. Ashley was taken aback with this new expression on her usually playful mug. She was quite the calm sage, in contrast to Ashley, who was doing her best to keep her frayed nerves in check.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Dizzy held her gaze for a moment before being distracted by a large truck rolling by. Her eyes soon drifted back to her mistress, who was studying her through the mirror. Ashley started to talk aloud, trying to assuage her own guilt and stop Dizzy from shaming her with that withering stare.

  “I couldn’t tell Old Man Mueller about her, Dizzy. I don’t know anything about what happened. I mean, I heard Colleen threatening to expose a secret about Bobby McCay, but I have no idea what it was.”

  Dizzy had already disengaged and was now watching the people walking their dogs along the river. Ashley’s mind was buzzing.

  “On the other hand, what if Colleen’s death was not an accident? What if it was,” she shuddered in her seat, “murder? That could be dangerous. Should I have told Mueller what I know? What do I know? Nothing, that’s what.”

  Chewing her lip, she glanced back at Dizzy again. The dog was now snoozing, the straps of her harness preventing her from slipping all the way off the seat.

  Last night, after the successful event, Ashley felt on top of the world. It made her decision to move back home and open Seagrass Sweets seem like the right one, and she was finally starting to believe she could do this, build a life and a business in her hometown. But now? Trying to escape food poisoning rumors? She could see that dream crumbling around her. She had to do something.

  “I know I could get Ryan to help—especially with the phone—and that email is the start of a trail of breadcrumbs that will lead somewhere. Although, it could lead somewhere I don’t want to go. It could lead to a killer.”

  She sighed as she turned into the parking lot of a large, non-descript warehouse whose bland exterior hid all the magic that happened inside at Fresh Start Kitchens. Dizzy was awake again and wagging her tail, waiting to be let out so she could sniff the perimeter of the property.

  “Also,” Ashley cringed at the thought she’d been silencing the whole ride, “what if it was my dessert that killed her? Oh, my God!”

  Exasperated, she took one more glance at Dizzy, who quickly alternated from looking at her and the door. Her one-track mind wanted out. Ashley got out of the car and unstrapped Dizzy, who bounded out to begin her patrol while Ashley dragged the trays from the seat and made her way to the back door. She put Dizzy in the coat room, where she quickly found her doggie bed. Dizzy was not allowed in the actual kitchen, but Ashley hated to leave her at home alone. The coatroom was a nice compromise; it let Ashley check in on Dizzy frequently but did not offend Patty’s high standards for cleanliness in the kitchen.

  Patty came to greet Ashley at the door, holding it open with her left hand while her right hand wiped the flour from one rosy cheek.

  “Oh, good, you found them.” Patty nodded towards the pans.

  Ashley walked through, still in a daze as her thoughts swirled in many different directions at once. Patty followed her to the kitchen, then took the trays from her young, frazzled friend and placed them on the counter.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Ashley turned to face her. The tears were already flowing as she began to tell Patty the news. Patty held her hands while she spoke. When Ashley had finished, Patty wrapped her arms around her for a big, long hug.

  “Honey, I am so sorry. I know Colleen was someone you knew, and no matter what other chaos has surrounded us, that fact is at the core of it all and it hurts.” Ashley sobbed a few times into Patty’s shoulder, then raised her head and wiped her tears.

  “Honestly, Patty, I didn’t know Colleen that well anymore. I’m sad for her family and friends, but I’m really most upset about what this could possibly mean for me, for you—for us.” She looked away. “Does that make me a terrible person?”

  “Honey, it makes you human.” Patty held her at arm’s length and squeezed her shoulders. “We’ll be fine; we didn’t come all the way from La Ville-Lumière to let the first little hiccup stop us.” Then, being the pragmatist that she was, Patty began forming a plan. “What can we do first? We know it wasn’t our food that did the poisoning, so we must try to determine what did. How long will the toxicology tests take?”

  Ashley had to laugh at that. “In this town? Who knows if they even do toxicology tests?” Patty’s hopeful eyes dulled a bit. “But I do have an idea of what we can do,” Ashley said. She pulled the phone out from between the trays. “Our first clue.”

  “Ooh la la,” said Patty, grabbing at the silk scarf tied around her neck, “did you just say our?”


  CHAPTER 3

  AFTER CONVINCING PATTY that working on this mystery themselves was the best way forward to save their businesses, Ashley wasted no time in getting the phone to someone who might be able to bring it back to life. Dizzy grew excited as they approached Ryan’s office, barking and whimpering, not even trying to contain herself.

  “Okay, Diz, don’t worry, we’re here.”

  The dog barked her approval, and Ashley parked the car and texted Ryan to come downstairs for a surprise. Within moments, Ryan appeared at the front door wearing a huge grin and, like Dizzy, not trying at all to hide his excitement.

  “Hey, Ash.” He greeted her and opened his arms for Dizzy. “This is a nice surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  While Ryan and Dizzy said hello, Ashley made her way up to them with a heavy heart. Ryan noticed straight away and stood up with a look of concern on his handsome face, his grin slowly disappearing.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. I suppose you haven’t heard about Colleen.”

  “Um, no. What?”

  “Colleen’s dead. They found her at the banquet hall.”

  “That was Colleen? My God. I saw a brief story in today’s online paper about a death at the Women’s Club; honestly, I assumed it was one of the 90-year-olds from the event. What happened?”

  Ashley put on a brave face. “They’re saying that she was poisoned. It could’ve been one of my desserts.”

  Ryan’s eyes widened, and he opened up his mouth to say something before shutting it again. He gestured towards the door of the glass office building “Why don’t you two come inside?”