A Freshly Baked Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Kate Bell

  Mr. Rose looked from me to Alec again. “What do you mean? Working with the police department?”

  “We were asked to interview you,” Alec said, still not looking entirely comfortable with his new role as a non-detective. “We’re investigating your wife’s death.”

  “Alec is a retired detective with the police department and now he’s a private investigator,” I supplied when Mr. Rose still looked at Alec blankly. “We’re working with the police department.”

  It seemed like Mr. Rose was ready to tell us to hit the road and I didn’t want there to be any hostility between us before Alec got to interview him. It was only a small stretch of the truth that Alec was a private investigator. He would be one just as soon as he took the test to be licensed.

  “Okay. Fine,” Mr. Rose finally said, nodding his head. He stepped back and we followed him into the living room. The house was decorated simply and it felt warm and cozy in spite of the sparse décor.

  “Have a seat,” Mr. Rose said, motioning toward a sofa.

  Alec and I sat, and he sat across from us on the love seat.

  “Mr. Rose, I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said quickly. “My daughter was in your wife’s class the first year she was a teacher, and she loved Iris.”

  A wave of grief crossed his face, but he quickly recovered. “Thank you.” He said thickly. “She loved the kids. She lived for them. I guess you never expect something like this. There’s nothing that can prepare you for it.”

  “That’s the truth,” I said. “I know this is very hard.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Rose,” Alec said. “Can you tell me, when was the last time you saw your wife?”

  “It was two days ago. Sunday afternoon. She went to the school to work on grading papers.”

  “She was grading papers on a Sunday?” Alec asked, notebook and pen suddenly in hand.

  “A teacher puts in a lot more than forty hours a week. She was there all the time,” he explained. “The schools expect a lot. Lots of rules about everything.”

  “What time of day did she leave?” Alec asked.

  “About noon. We went to church first, came home, and she was out the door again. She said she’d be home by four or five, but she never came back,” he said, his voice cracking on the last part.

  “What did you do then?” Alec asked.

  “I called her cell phone, but there was no answer. Around six o’clock I started calling family members, friends. Anyone I could think of. No one had seen her. Around seven I drove by the school, but it was locked up. Then I called the police, but I was told she had to be missing for twenty-four hours before they would look into it. By the time the twenty-four hours were up, the police were coming to me,” he said, staring at the floor.

  I glanced at Alec. I didn’t think he knew that we were the ones that had discovered her body. I wasn’t sure if it would make a difference to him or not, but I thought we shouldn’t mention it.

  “Is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt your wife?” Alec asked.

  He shook his head. “No. No one. She was an elementary school teacher. She hung around people that were just like her. Other teachers.”

  “Mr. Rose, did you and your wife have any children?” I asked.

  “No. Iris really didn’t want any. Her childhood wasn’t the greatest and she didn’t want to repeat it with kids of her own. Don’t get me wrong, she loved kids, but she didn’t want any of her own,” he said, still looking down at his feet. “I was fine with it. I wanted what she wanted.”

  I wasn’t sure I could identify with someone that didn’t want children, but I figured it was better to know you didn’t want them up front rather than figure it out after the fact.

  “Did she have other family in town?” I asked. Other than Jennifer having had Iris as a teacher, I knew virtually nothing else about her.

  He snorted. “Oh yeah. Her mother’s a piece of work. I have never met another person that had such a need to control another person in my life.”

  Alec and I glanced at each other.

  “How so?” Alec asked, scribbling in his notebook

  “She tried to control everything. When Iris wanted to go to college, her mother wanted her to study to become a doctor. Iris always wanted to teach. Her mother wouldn’t support her financially when she refused to go to med school. She wouldn’t even help her fill out the financial aid papers. Then when Iris became a teacher, her mother was always trying to control that. Telling her how to decorate her classroom, telling her how to teach her students, telling her what to teach them. It never ended. There was this constant bickering between the two of them,” he said. His face turned red as he spoke, the tension between the two of them was clear.

  “And how about your marriage? Did your mother-in-law take a hands off approach to that?” I asked, knowing that would be impossible if the woman were as controlling as he said she was.

  He laughed, but there was no joy behind it. “She tried everything she could to keep us from getting married. She threatened to disown her. She told her she wouldn’t come to the wedding. Then she tried to control us at every turn when Iris went with her heart and married me anyway. She was always telling her how to behave in our marriage. She was obsessed with having grandchildren, so she was always looking up all these natural remedies for infertility. She made Iris a tea that she said was for her eczema, but it made Iris sick for three days. Later she admitted it was a fertility tea and refused to tell her what was in it. Iris refused to drink any more of it, and Hilda went into a rage, demanding she drink it so she would get pregnant,” he said. “The crazy part was she wasn’t infertile, she just didn’t want kids. But Hilda wouldn’t listen.”

  “Hilda is her mother? Did she have these rages often?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Oh yeah. Whenever she didn’t get her way.”

  “What’s her last name and how can we get a hold of her?” Alec asked.

  “Her last name’s Bixby and she lives in the apartment over my garage.”

  Chapter Four

  “Wait—your mother-in-law, who is controlling and seems to have made you and your wife very unhappy, is living in an apartment above your garage?” I asked. It didn’t make sense. I had gotten along fine with my mother-in-law, but there was no way I would have wanted her living that close to me.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. “It doesn’t make sense. I told my wife it was a bad idea, and believe me, it was. But Iris insisted. Hilda could guilt her into anything. She would just pop in here whenever she wanted. No knocking. Just pop in and stick her nose into whatever my wife and I were doing.”

  My mind spun with the thought. I could imagine how normal marital disagreements could be turned into family brawls with a family that was already on the edge. And if what Richard Rose was saying was true, this was a family on the edge.

  “You know what I think?” he asked. “I think Hilda was jealous of Iris. She had a really bad childhood and when her husband dumped her, I think it was the epitome of failure to her. She would have loved for her daughter’s marriage to have failed, too.”

  The muscle along Mr. Rose’s jawline twitched. I looked at Alec, unsure of what to say next.

  “Do you think Iris’s mother killed her?” Alec asked flatly.

  He nodded his head. “I do. She went down to the school on Sunday when I told her Iris was there working. She had to stick her nose into whatever Iris was working on. Hilda came back, but Iris didn’t.”

  “I think we should go and have a talk with her,” Alec said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Rose. We’ll be in touch.”

  Mr. Rose led us to the front door and we said our goodbyes.

  “Wow,” I said when he had closed the door. “I know they must have had their problems, but I can’t imagine a mother killing her child.”

  Alec looked at me. “Do you ever watch the news? Parents kill their own children all the time.”

  I breathed out hard. “I know, I know. But I can’t im
agine it. I just can’t.”

  We walked around the side of the house and to the detached garage. There was a dark blue Toyota parked beneath a landing that led to the apartment. I wondered how old Iris’s mother was because the steps were steep and narrow. I figured at least mid to late sixties based on how old I thought Iris was, but maybe she was in good shape physically and didn’t have an issue with the stairs.

  “Up we go,” Alec said and we began climbing. I was glad I was a runner. These things would wear you out if you had to climb them every day.

  Alec barely had time to rap out two knocks before the door swung open. Hilda Bixby stood at the door, her gray hair in a bun on the top of her hair, and her eyes red and swollen.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Bixby,” Alec said, “I’m Alec Blanchard and this is Allie McSwain. We’re working with the Sandy Harbor police department and we’d like to have a few minutes of your time.”

  She looked from Alec to me and back to Alec without saying a word.

  “Mrs. Bixby, we just wanted to express how sorry we were to hear about your daughter, Iris. She was my daughter’s second grade teacher, the first year she taught,” I said, giving her a sympathetic look. I could use some sugar when I needed to.

  Mrs. Bixby took a deep breath. “Come in,” she said and led us into the apartment. The apartment was small, but Mrs. Bixby had made good use of the space, with slightly undersized furnishings. There were floral prints everywhere, but she had somehow managed to keep them from feeling overwhelming. Mrs. Bixby had a flair for decorating.

  “Please, sit. Would you like some tea or coffee?” she asked stiffly.

  “No, thank you,” Alec said before I could answer. We sat down on a loveseat across from her. “Mrs. Bixby, we’d like to ask you a few questions. Do you know of anyone that would want to harm your daughter?”

  “I certainly do,” Mrs. Bixby said confidently.

  “And who would that be?” Alec asked.

  “My son-in-law, Richard Rose,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

  “And why would you suspect him?” Alec asked, notebook and pen in hand.

  “Because he wanted to get rid of her. She had infertility problems. It broke Iris’s heart. She wanted children so badly. It was easier for him to get rid of her and find a new wife that could have children than to go through a divorce.”

  I forced myself not to look in Alec’s direction. This was the opposite of what Richard Rose had told us.

  Alec scribbled in his notebook, then looked up at her. “Not being able to have children isn’t usually a reason to kill someone. Was there anything else going on?”

  She nodded smugly. “Richard also had an affair.”

  Mr. Rose had forgotten to tell us this little tidbit of information.

  “Are you certain?” Alec asked, scribbling in his book.

  “Of course I am. Iris found out about it. Richard’s a high school teacher and he had an affair with a student. Janice Cross. Later she went off to college and became a second grade teacher. Just Like Iris. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he ends up marrying her.”

  Alec looked up at her. “Was Janice still in high school when the affair occurred?”

  “He said it didn’t begin until the summer after she graduated, but why would anyone believe him?” she said bitterly. “He’s a born liar, that one is.”

  “Did Janice Cross work at the same school that Iris did?” I asked, hoping she didn’t.

  “Oh yes. You know it tormented her every time she had to see that woman at work. I told her not to marry Richard. That he would only bring her misery. First, he tormented her for not being able to get pregnant and have the children she wanted so desperately. And then he had an affair,” she said and broke down crying. “My poor baby.”

  I reached for the box of tissues on the end table and handed them to her. “I’m so sorry, Hilda. I know this is hard.”

  She looked at me sharply. “You know as a mother, it’s a nightmare. My daughter didn’t deserve this. That monster is living free, right over there and that’s not right. He’s the one that deserved to die out in those woods, not her.” Her face tightened up in anger.

  Richard Rose was right about one thing. She had a temper.

  “A lot of people have affairs, and while it’s not right, they don’t usually want to murder their spouses,” Alec said gently. “Why, specifically, do you think he would murder her as opposed to divorcing her?”

  Janice sighed loudly. “Because it’s easier. Why go to court, when you can just end the marriage this way? There’s just no accounting for why people do the things they do.”

  Hilda wasn’t making sense. I glanced at Alec and could see his brow furrow.

  “Is there anything else we need to know?” he asked.

  “Just that Richard is an evil man. You have to keep your eye on him. Iris didn’t have an enemy in this world. If you had known my daughter, you would know that everyone that knew her, loved her,” she said, now completely dry-eyed. She turned toward me. “Isn’t it true that your daughter loved her when she was in her class?”

  I nodded. There was no denying it. Iris Rose had had a way with kids. “Absolutely. She talked about her all the time.”

  She looked at Alec and nodded triumphantly.

  “Mrs. Bixby, where were you on Sunday?” Alec asked without skipping a beat.

  Janice’s eyes got big. “I went to the school to help my daughter. She had papers to grade and I always helped her out. I don’t know how she would have managed to do her job if it wasn’t for me helping her. That school demands so much of its teachers. And she really appreciated it. She said so all the time.”

  “What time did you leave?” Alec asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Around 2:30 if I remember right,” she said.

  “And did Iris stay late?” he asked, making notes.

  “Yes. She said she had a few more things to do and she said she would be home in an hour or so. But, she never showed up,” she said, and her voice cracked.

  My heart went out to Hilda. She may have been a difficult person, but she really was grieving for her daughter.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bixby. If you think of anything else, please give me a call,” he said and handed her his card. “And we’ll be in touch.”

  We left Hilda and climbed down the stairs, hanging onto the handrail so we didn’t take a tumble. I would not have liked having to navigate those stairs every day, especially with as much snow as we got each year.

  “So what do you think?” I asked when we got back into the car.

  He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know at this point. Mrs. Bixby is a little off, if you ask me.”

  “She might be an oddball, but that doesn’t mean she’s a murderer. I think she’s just grieving the loss of her daughter. And why didn’t Richard mention his affair?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t think it was relevant.”

  “I think things like that become relevant when there’s a murder involved,” I pointed out.

  “True, but if he really dated Janice Cross around the time she was in high school, and now she’s been through college and is a teacher, it’s been a while ago and he may not have thought it was important,” he said, pulling away from the curb. “One thing’s for sure. They both have very different views of what Iris felt for her mother.”

  “That’s for sure. Richard sees Hilda as being controlling and Hilda sees her actions as being helpful,” I said.

  “We’ll have to see how this all plays out. It’s too early to point the finger at anyone.”

  That was true, but I had a finger that I wanted to point and I really couldn’t make up my mind about either one of them.

  Chapter Five

  “So, how’s it going?” I asked Alec. He was sitting at my kitchen table with his nose in a book, studying for his PI license. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips moved as he read. I figured it would be easy as pie for him to pass, but he was a worrywart and i
nsisted on studying.

  “Just fine, thanks,” he said, not looking up from his book.

  I opened a cupboard door and stared into it, trying to decide on something to bake. I had ended my blog on grief and I needed something to do with my life. I had considered a food blog, and it was still a possibility, but if I was going to write about baking, I needed to bake.

  “How does blueberry sour cream pie sound?” I asked.

  “Sounds good,” he mumbled.

  I looked over my shoulder at him. “A little more enthusiasm?”

  He looked up at me. “Yum. Blueberries.” Then he went back to his book.

  “Gee, thanks,” I said and the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.”

  “Lucy!” I said when I opened the door.

  “Hey, Allie, what’s up? I heard Iris Rose was murdered! I know you have to know something. Spill it! I need the scoop,” she said.

  I put my finger to my lips, and stepped back, letting her in. “Alec’s in the kitchen.”

  She closed the door behind her and we headed for my bedroom. I knew Alec knew I was going to tell Lucy everything, but I still didn’t want him to hear me tell it.

  “We found her buried in the snow out in the woods. We’ve talked to her husband and mother and they both blame each other. Other than that, nothing else has happened,” I whispered.

  “What? You found her? When? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she exclaimed, taking her white knit hat off. Her blond hair was a little wild this morning, and I reached out and pushed a lock of it down. “Stop it,” she said, slapping my hand.

  “Monday. We were going out to collect snow for snow cream and I unburied her,” I said, looking away. The thought of eating the snow that was covering her still sickened me.

  “Monday? And you didn’t call me? What’s up with that?” she asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

  I sighed. “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. And it was kind of gross, you know?” I said.

  “Oh. Was she, like, messed up?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I was scooping up the snow that covered her for our snow cream.”