"I do."
"I hope all this death business hasn't gone and stirred all that up." Dawn paused. "But I guess you're used to grisly murders now, aren't you?" She shivered a little. "The kind of thing I avoid. I can't even watch a scary movie or read a crime novel. What has drawn you to try and solve these cases, dear? It's a rather peculiar hobby, if you ask me."
I was a teeny bit taken aback. "I wouldn't say I've ever gone looking for these things, or pursued them. They just seem to find me. Wherever there's a murder, there I am." I made a face, though I tried to cover it up with a little laugh. "That's probably more morbid than if I had gone looking for them, isn't it?"
Dawn shrugged a little. "For some people, tragedy just seems to follow them."
I wasn't sure that was it. I had no idea why these sorts of things seemed to follow me around. "I do know that I seem to have a knack for solving these cases, though."
Dawn's eyebrow shot up a little. "Don't tell me your investigating Pierre's death?"
I wasn't quite sure how candid I should be. After all, it was all on a very hush-hush basis. Unofficial, as Jackson would say. "I wouldn't say investigating. I'm just keeping my eyes and ears open."
Dawn looked impressed. "Well, I hope you do manage to turn something up. The sooner we are out of this town and away from the press scrutiny the better. I'm as desperate as anyone to know what happened to Pierre and I can't say I've got all that much faith in your local police department. Please tell me you will look into it, Rachael."
I wondered how Jackson would feel to know that it wasn't just the locals who had lost confidence in the Belldale police department. Even the out-of-towners were skeptical.
"I can't promise anything, Dawn. But I will try my best." I placed my empty latte glass down. "You never told me why you wanted to meet with me."
Dawn rested her face in her hands and gave me a warm smile. "I just wanted to check in with you, Rachael. Have a coffee. Chat. And we've done that." She grabbed her purse and extended her smile even wider. "You remind me an awful lot of myself when I was your age. And I wanted to offer to mentor you at any time. If you're interested, that is."
My eyes grew wide. "Interested? I'm more than interested. Dawn, I'm sort of taken aback right now. Are you really willing to do that?"
She chuckled again. "Of course, my dear. But right now, I really need to be getting back to my hotel. Justin wants to see me for something, and you know how persuasive he is!"
I followed her out of the shop. "Oh, I know it."
The apartment looked like a bomb had gone off. For a second I had to wonder if that was what had actually happened. It wasn't just a matter of mess—though as I stepped over the piles of clothes and books on the floor, I almost tripped and sprained my ankle—but there was also debris lying on the floor. Broken bits of wood, some glass, trinkets lying everywhere.
"Did we have an earthquake?" I asked as Pippa appeared in the hallway. Maybe I'd been so wrapped up in my meeting with Dawn that I hadn't even felt it. Maybe it had been confined to our apartment.
"Sorry, Rach," Pippa said, making an awkward face. "We weren't expecting you back so soon." She spun around and looked at an overturned bookshelf that no longer had any shelves in tact. That explained the debris all over the floor. "Marcello was moving some of his bags and he wasn't watching where he was going."
There was a surprise. "Did he also have a bull trailing behind him?" I asked in disbelief before following her into the living room. "Hang on," I said, staring at the piles of bags and luggage. "He was moving bags INTO the house?"
"Yes?" Pippa said unsurely. "I know they are taking up a bit of space."
"Pippa, I assumed he'd be moving his bags OUT of here, by now."
Pippa's face fell. "You don't want us here anymore?"
I sighed. "It's not that I don't want you here. You know I always said you could live here as long as you want or need, Pippa. But that was when you were single. This is a one-bedroom apartment! We can't have three people living here! Especially when one of them is..." I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would later regret. "...Marcello."
"I see," Pippa said, crossing her arms and refusing to look at me. "You don't like Marcello. Well, don't worry, Rachael. We will be out of your hair as soon as we can! We won't put you out any longer. "
"It's not like that, Pippa. And it's not that I don't like Marcello as a person," I said, exasperated. It was true. I did like him. It was just that... "I just like not having my stuff ruined every day."
Pippa's face dropped and her indignation drained away a little. "I know he can be a hassle to live with," she said quietly. "Honestly, I appreciate you putting up with us as long as you have." She caught sight of the mess in the hallway. "I'll help you clean that up."
"Don't worry just now," I said, grabbing her arm. "It can wait 'til later. Let's just have a quiet night in. Eat some snacks, watch some Criminal Point. Marcello is at his new job washing dishes tonight, right?" Pippa nodded. "So, what do you say?"
"I say, sounds great," Pippa said with a forced smile, before wrapping her arms around my neck. "Thanks, Rach. And I promise, we'll find our own place as soon as possible. If not sooner."
"So, stop keeping me in suspense. What did Dawn have to say for herself? Are you getting cast on Baking Warriors or not?" Pippa sat back on the sofa, curling her knees up underneath her with wide eyes, waiting for my answer.
I stuck my chopsticks in the carton of gluten-free satay rice noodles and shook my head as I stared up at her from my position on the floor. "You were right, I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Filming is delayed indefinitely. I will have to re-audition if I ever want a chance of getting on the show." I took another mouthful of noodles. "I'm not even sure I still want to, to be honest."
Pippa leaned forward. "But, Rach, you've got to," she whispered. "Otherwise, whoever killed Pierre is going to get just what they wanted. You can't let them actually receive their bizarre sense of justice."
I shrugged. "Or, I could just find the person who did it."
Pippa shrugged as well. "I guess. I still want to see you on TV though. You've got to do it for me if you won't do it for yourself." She munched down on her own cashew and vegetable stir fry noodles. "So what were you summoned to the studio for then?"
"Huh? Oh. Dawn Ashfield just wanted to talk to me to see if I wanted her to mentor me. It was kind of a surprise."
Pippa raised an eyebrow, impressed. "See! Now you've GOT to re-audition. It would be crazy not to. You could do worse than Dawn Ashfield for a mentor. Cripes, you'll probably win the whole thing if Dawn takes you under her wing."
"That's the truth." I dug around for some more noodles before stuffing them into my mouth. "I guess I'll have to think about it, weigh all the options." I thought about my nana again for a second.
Pippa murmured thoughtfully for a second. "Huh. It really seems that having the auditions done over would benefit a couple of people, doesn't it?"
I nodded and reached for my glass of white wine, taking a sip. "It certainly benefits the people that missed out behind me."
"Say, Renee and Adam?"
I nodded again. I still hadn't had the chance to talk to Adam. I explained what I'd learned about him to Pippa.
"So he DID know you were there that day?" Pippa's mouth dropped open a little. "I knew it."
"Seems like it." I placed my noodles down. I was stuffed. Savory dishes had a way of filling me up far quicker than sweet foods ever had.
"So, are we going to talk to Adam again?" Pippa asked. She picked up her phone. "He's been bugging me actually, sending me texts and emails to follow up, asking if I am going to buy one of his cakes."
"And are you?" I struggled not to laugh.
She sighed and leaned back on the sofa. "No!" she said with a laugh as. "They’re overpriced and not half as good as yours. But I suppose I could pretend I'm still interested if it helps us investigate. Can you stomach going into his shop again? Dealing with all that taffeta a
nd ego?"
I leaned back on my wrists on the floor. "I guess I'm going to have to."
But it didn't come to that. At 7:00 AM the following morning, it was Pippa and I who found Adam Ali at OUR place of work, not the other way around.
Pippa jumped in fright as she stood up from placing a cake in the bottom display shelf to find Adam with his beak pressed up against the glass. His eyes seemed particularly small and beady that morning as he scanned the contents of our store through the window before stalking towards the door and pulling it open with a quick yank.
"I thought you said you didn't supply wedding cakes here!" he said, pointing to the cake that Pippa had just placed in the display cabinet.
I watched the scene quietly from the register as I counted the change. Pippa was better at talking her way out of trouble in situations like this than I was.
"That's not a wedding cake," she replied.
"Well, it's white."
"That's because it's white chocolate," Pippa said quickly. "Other cakes besides wedding cakes can be white, you know."
Adam narrowed his eyes and bowed down to get a better look at the cake. "That looks like fondant to me," he said.
"It's not. It's white chocolate. Regular old icing. It's just extra smooth. We have a special spatula that we use." Pippa looked over at me for help.
"Adam," I said, and he finally turned his attention to me. "Can we help you with anything this morning?" I was thinking that he could certainly help us with something, but I didn't want to make him any crosser than he already was before I started to interrogate him.
He finally managed to pry his nose away from the display stand. He pointed to Pippa before saying, "I was trying to track down this one. To see if she had any actual intention of purchasing one of my prestigious wedding cakes. But now I can see she has no intention to. Why would she buy from me when the shop she works in supplies wedding cakes?" He finished pointedly, glaring at me with his icy blue eyes.
Seeing as he was already irritated and had no plans of backing down or playing nice, I decided I may as well come right out and ask him.
"Why did you lie about knowing I was at the audition?"
With his red hair and pale skin, it didn't take much of a blush for Adam to turn bright red. "I didn't lie," he said feebly, reaching out to tap his fingers on one of my counter tops. "I had no idea you were there, darling. Why would you say otherwise?"
I straightened up and exchanged a look with Pippa. "Justin told me. He told me that not only did you know I was there, you knew that I did better than you. That I was going through and you weren't." I hesitated, wondering if I ought to really stick the boot in. "Justin told me that you bombed your audition, actually."
Adam performed the motion of flicking his hair over his shoulder even though his hair was nowhere near long enough to actually do that.
"Justin doesn't know what he is talking about," Adam mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the cake display. I thought I could detect a note of bitterness in his voice that wasn't there due to any shame or embarrassment over screwing up his audition. I exchanged a look with Pippa, who seemed to pounce on the tone in his voice.
"Did you get along with Justin while you were preparing to interview?"
Adam lifted his head high in the air and pouted. "As well as anyone could get along with that guy. With his ridiculous expectations and his air of self importance."
Pippa and I were still looking at each other. Whatever Adam's problem was with Justin, it was personal, not professional.
I cleared my throat and ventured a guess. "Adam, did you perhaps get along a little too well with Justin?"
Adam was still pouting but he threw me an indignant look. "Whatever it was that happened between us, it was all one way, let me tell you. I turned Justin down and he responded by blowing my audition for me."
"Adam, I'm sure Justin wouldn't do that."
"He did. He tampered with my audition piece. I just know it. Left the cake out of the fridge or something so it tasted bad. I've never seen a person spit out one of my creations in my life, and suddenly all the judges are spitting my cake out, saying it was one of the worst things they have ever tasted." Adam shook his head. "No. It was Justin screwing with it. It just had to have been. I'm telling you, he wanted to take revenge on me for rejecting him. That was it." Adam finally looked me directly in the eyes. "Well, now I will have my chance again. A total do-over. With any luck, Justin won't be working at the show by the time the new auditions roll around."
"Adam," I said slowly. Accusingly. "Why you think that Justin won't be around? What did you do?"
He didn't answer me.
"Are you the one that leaked the rumors to the press that Justin was the one who did it?"
Adam's attention was fixed back firmly on the cake display. "Maybe."
"Adam!"
"Well, I had to get revenge on him somehow! He ruined my one big chance to make it."
I threw my head back in frustration. I had Justin holed up in a hotel room, constantly texting me asking whether I had found the killer yet so that he was off the hook, and the entire rumor was down to a lover's spat.
Adam kept trying to defend himself. "If Justin is kicked off the show then I will get a fair chance. It's only fair. He deserves it if he’s going to tamper with the outcome of the show!"
I rolled me eyes a little. "That's a producer's job, Adam. To tamper with the outcome of a show." I stopped and stared at him.
I had to ask it.
But Pippa jumped in ahead of me.
"So it looks like Pierre's murder worked out pretty well for you," Pippa started to say slowly, inching her way towards a squirming Adam.
"Well, maybe, but only accidentally." Adam straightened up and cleared his throat. "What are you trying to suggest?"
"Did you kill Pierre so that you could take revenge on Justin? Or Pierre, for that matter. For spitting your cake out."
"No!" Adam squealed. "I might have been angry about losing my chance, but I would never do something like that. That's insane."
He held his hand up to his neck to mimic a pearl-clutching motion. Pippa and I looked at each other. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. How can we trust a word this guy is saying?
Adam looked at me. "Anyway, I'm not the only person making up rumors and selling them to the press," he said pointedly.
"What are you talking about, Adam?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want to know how the rumor about you and Pierre got leaked to the press?"
I sighed. I did want to know, but I didn't really want to give Adam the satisfaction that he was clearly deriving from being the holder of this information.
Pippa nodded at me. A signal to me to drop my pride.
"Fine, Adam. Tell me who told the press about that."
He shrugged. "I don't know her too well. Just met her at the audition. Some single mother with five kids. When you got through ahead of her, she kind of lost it. Said she was sure that you must have used more than just your baking skills to impress Pierre. And when Pierre died, she told me she was going straight to the press." He shrugged. "Said she thought it would make you look guilty."
Chapter 8
"Are you ready?" Pippa asked me as I took a deep breath.
"Yes. It's time I finally faced up to this."
Pippa stepped back and looked over my shoulder as I finally brought up the news headlines that had been running constantly since Pierre's death.
"And I've got an actual real life paper here for you as well, if you need it," Pippa said.
I could feel the waft of air on the back of my neck as she waved the newspaper behind me. "That's super helpful."
"Ohhh." I could hear Pippa whispering behind me. I could hear the wince in her voice. "It's pretty bad."
The gossip sites were plastered with garish photos of Pierre and me, badly photoshopped into them with headlines like "Baking Warriors Love Scandal - Contestant Cheats Her Way In."
"This
is insane, Pippa. We never even had a photo taken together. We never even met except for that one time at my disastrous audition."
When Pippa didn't say anything, I swung around in my chair to find her making a confused face that she quickly tried to straighten before I saw it. "What?"
"Well, I thought you said your audition went really well. Isn't that why you were going through to the next round?"
"Well," I said, a little unsure. "I thought my audition went badly. Pierre didn't seem to like my cake, but Justin assured me that he did really like me."
"Oh."
"Pippa! It's not like that!"
She glanced over my shoulder back at the gossip sites. "No, I'm sure it's not."
"It's not, Pippa!" But I had to cross my arms over my chest as I thought about it all. "Justin just said that Pierre had to pretend not to like my cake for TV. It's all fake, you know. Just like these news stories," I said pointedly.
Pippa nodded firmly. "I know. Sorry, Rach. It's just that they can be pretty convincing."
I spun back around to face the computer. "Yeah, well, Renee did a pretty good job of spinning a good tale for them. She's mixed enough true details from the audition process in with the lies so that it seems more convincing." I dropped my face into my hands.
This was all so embarrassing. I was only glad that my nana wasn't around to see my public humiliation. Even the thought of her reading these gossip articles made me want the earth to swallow me.
"So, what are you thinking?" Pippa asked. She settled down, perched up on the desk next to me.
"If Renee killed Pierre, it makes sense that she would try to frame someone else as a suspect. It's a pretty good plan. Maybe not the most original, but a solid plan nonetheless."
Pippa clucked her tongue a few times, in deep concentration. "To be fair, though, or maybe her plan just backfired, but people don't really seem to be blaming you for his death if you actually read the articles. They are more focused on the scandal of it. Of the fact that you cheated your way through."
Death by Chocolate Cake: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Page 6
