A Freshly Baked Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Kate Bell

  I tried to keep from curling my lip at him. I was willing to bet he demanded that his employees be team players without giving his team players anything in return.

  “What kind of software do you develop here?” Alec asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t divulge that kind of information. We develop proprietary programs for the government,” Bart replied, smiling again.

  “Oh?” Alec said. “I wasn’t aware of that. What segment of the government would that be?” Alec wasn’t going to cave just because nerd here didn’t want to cooperate.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t divulge that information,” he repeated.

  “You said Spencer had a good relationship with other employees. Can we speak with them? We’d like to personally express our condolences,” I said.

  Bart lost his smile then, so I gave him one of mine.

  “You know, we’re working on some pressing projects right now. I’m sure you’ll understand that we really can’t afford to take a break from that,” Bart said, placing his index fingers on the pencil in front of him and moving it two inches to the left, and then bringing it back to where it had been originally.

  “You do understand that we’re working with the police department right, Mr. Hicks?” Alec asked. “I’m certain the Chief of Police, Sam Bailey, could take a few minutes out from his day to stop in and see how the interviews are progressing. I’m not sure how happy he’d be with that, of course. He’s a busy man.”

  Bart’s lips pressed together in a straight line. “I’m sure we don’t need to disturb him. I’ll get Spencer’s work partner, Marge Buttons. Hold on.”

  Bart stood up and walked quickly out of the office.

  “I don’t like him,” I whispered when I was sure he was out of earshot.

  “I’m not wild about him, either. There’s just something about him,” Alec said.

  Bart was back with a middle-aged woman that didn’t look nerdy at all. She must have been on the other side of the cubicles when I passed, or one of the offices. Marge, despite her nerdy sounding name, was dressed stylishly in a red suit and black spiked heels. She wore a matching diamond earring and bracelet set that looked expensive and her brunette hair was perfectly coiffed with highlights in all the right places.

  “Good afternoon,” she said. Bart introduced us and we shook hands. He took his seat behind his desk, leaving Marge to stand.

  “We just wanted to have a word with you about Spencer Cranston,” Alec said, standing up. “Why don’t you take my seat?”

  “Oh, it’s such a terrible tragedy,” Marge said, sitting down next to me. “You just don’t expect something like that to happen to someone you know.”

  “That’s the truth,” I said. “You just don’t expect it.” I wondered if Marge was new to town, too. She didn’t look at all familiar.

  “Can we have some privacy?” Alec asked, looking at Bart.

  “Oh,” Bart said, the forced smile fading from his lips. “Of course.” He stood up, looking mildly put out and walked to the door. He looked over his shoulder before exiting the office. Alec closed the door behind him and took the seat he had vacated.

  “Thanks,” Marge said. “It’s hard to talk with him around. He hovers, you know.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Tell me, is Bart a good boss?” I wanted the scoop.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by that,” she said quickly, and sat back in her chair. “I mean, he’s as good as bosses go, I guess. Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything else.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said. “We really just wanted to talk about Spencer.”

  “Can you tell me how Spencer was as a co-worker?” Alec asked, pen poised over a page in his notebook.

  Marge shrugged her shoulders. “He was okay I guess. You know, just like anyone else around here.” She clasped her hands together in her lap and looked mildly uncomfortable.

  Marge knew something. I was sure of it.

  “Did he ever make you feel like he might be hiding something?” I asked.

  She looked from me to Alec and then back again. “Are you going to tell Bart what I tell you?”

  “No. This is confidential,” Alec assured her.

  “Spencer was sneaky. He’d pop up, out of nowhere and look over your shoulder. And he seemed to know things about people. If I had a conversation with someone in private, he would somehow know the details of the conversation. And I swear the person I had had the conversation with never told him a thing. I never trusted him,” she said in a near whisper.

  “Do you know if he was having an affair?” Alec asked straight out.

  Her eyes got big. “I’m not aware of that. Was he?”

  Alec shrugged. “We’re still trying to find out more information at this point. Bart said he was a key employee and heavily relied on for projects.”

  She nodded. “He was a key employee all right. The truth is, he had his nose, er, um, hand in every project that went on around here. It always felt like we were being watched. I hated it. The truth is, I was looking for another job because of him. Something wasn’t right about him.”

  “Marge, have you lived in Sandy Harbor long?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “None of us have. The company moved this office here to Maine about six months ago. We were told we could either relocate, or look for another job. I wish I had looked for another job, if you want to know the truth. Maine is fine, but this place has gotten downright weird since we made the move.”

  “Weird, how?” Alec asked.

  She looked over her shoulder at the closed door, then back at Alec. “I swear they follow us.”

  “Who?” Alec asked.

  “The company. Bart. Spencer. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid. Some days I feel like I’m going nuts and I’m making this all up. But I swear, I feel like I’m being followed when I leave this place at night.”

  I looked at Alec. Alec was staring at Marge, thinking.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Alec asked.

  “I don’t know. I think I’ve probably already said too much. I just think it’s time to find another job.”

  “What kind of software do you develop here?” I asked.

  She bit her lower lip. “If I discuss it, I’ll lose my job and open myself up to be sued. But, let’s just say it might have something to do with government security. I can’t say anything more. I really need to get back to my desk.”

  “I understand,” Alec said. “Thank you for your time, and please, if you can think of anything else, give me a call.” He handed her a business card.

  “Thanks Marge,” I said as she headed for the door.

  “You’re welcome,” she said and exited the office.

  I looked at Alec. “Wow.”

  He nodded. “Wow, indeed. I’d love to know what kind of software they’re developing.”

  “And following people? Why would they feel the need to do that?” I mused.

  Alec shrugged. “We have some digging to do.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Do you think Sam will be around?” I asked Alec as we drove to the police station. I had a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in my lap and the smell was making me hungry. I had just eaten an enormous bowl of oatmeal, but chocolate was hard for me to resist.

  “I’m betting he won’t be there on a Saturday morning. Sam was never one for putting in more time than was absolutely necessary at work,” he said. “Hand me one of those cookies, will you?”

  “Those are for the boys,” I said, lifting up the edge of the plastic wrap and pulling one out anyway. It was so moist, it bent over when I picked it up.

  “Hazard pay,” he said, taking it from me. “Now that’s fresh.” He popped the whole thing into his mouth and groaned.

  “I take it you approve?” I asked. “We have got to step up our running. That marathon will be here before you know it and all I’ve been doing is eating.”

  Alec finished chewing and swallowed. �
��I wasn’t going to mention it, but you might want to lay off the sweets.” The wicked grin on his face made me punch him in the shoulder. He laughed.

  “I need to test each and every dessert I bake. It isn’t my fault,” I said. “Plus, I need to check out the competition’s wares.” I cringed when I said it. Just thinking about Le Chemise made me feel sick.

  Alec pulled into the parking lot at the police station and parked in the spot nearest the front door. I grabbed my coffee from the cup holder and we headed in.

  George and Yancey were sitting at the front desk, peering at the computer screen.

  “Hey, Alec, Allie,” Yancey said, quickly toggling to another computer screen. I was just able to catch sight of a screen full of football jerseys before he did. “What are you two up to?”

  “I promised y’all some cookies, and I never go back on a promise,” I said, setting the plate on the front counter.

  “Allie, you are a gem,” George said, lifting the plastic wrap and grabbing a cookie.

  “Those smell wonderful,” Yancey said, following George’s lead.

  Yancey groaned when he bit into the cookie. “These are the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” I said. “You do know I’ve got my pies and cakes and whatnot at Henry’s every day, right?”

  He nodded. “I bought a piece of cherry pie the other day. It was fantastic.”

  “Good,” I said with a smile. Hearing that people loved my baking always made my day.

  “Yancey, can I use the computer system to take a look at a couple of people?” Alec asked.

  “Well,” Yancey said, thinking about it. “You know how Sam is. He would have a fit if he knew I let you.”

  “How about you do the search and I sit next to you while you do it? Then you won’t actually have done anything against the rules,” he said, giving him a big grin.

  “Well, I guess that would be okay,” Yancey said, nodding.

  Alec went behind the counter and sat in the chair Yancey offered him.

  “Let’s look up Meg Cranston, Jenna Maples, and our victim Spencer Cranston. None of them have been in town long and I’m wondering if they have records of any kind.”

  Yancey started tapping on the keyboard, then paused. Alec had his notebook and pen out.

  “Hmm,” Yancey said.

  “Jenna has a parking ticket,” Alec said, looking at me.

  “Scandalous,” I said, leaning over the counter and standing on tiptoes so I could see the computer screen.

  Yancey started typing again.

  “I’m not seeing anything remarkable,” he said.

  “Not a thing,” Alec said, leaning back in his chair. “It seems like there would be something.”

  “Are you able to see out of state records?” I asked.

  Alec nodded. “Yes, we can. There’s nothing on any of them. Yancey, what about fingerprints in the vehicle?”

  “Just the victim and his wife’s. There were some incomplete ones, but those were useless.”

  “So what do we know? The victim was strangled with a nylon cord, his wife thought he was cheating on her with a woman that claims to not know him and that’s about it?” he asked.

  Yancey nodded. “That’s about it.”

  “How did his wife seem when she was told her husband was dead?” I asked.

  George shrugged. “Grief stricken. Just the way you’d expect. If she thought he was having an affair, then it didn’t cancel out the shock and grief at finding out he was dead.”

  “Maybe she followed him to Jenna’s house and sneaked into the car and killed him in a rage,” I suggested.

  “Possible, but not probable. If she were going to follow him anyway, why hire me to follow him? He would have noticed her car following him,” Alec said.

  Mr. Pragmatic. He needed to get a little wilder on the imagination side.

  “What if Jenna climbed into the backseat of his car and did it?” Yancey suggested. “Maybe she had something against him and wanted to do him in, but didn’t want him dead in her house.”

  “If that’s what happened, she has a heck of a poker face,” I said.

  “A lot of killers do,” Alec said. “But if she were that concerned with not doing it in her house, she wouldn’t have done it across the street, either.”

  “And someone had some skills to kill him that way,” George pointed out.

  “Hey, Yancey, look up Phil Jones. Do any of you know him?” Alec asked.

  Yancey began typing, then waited.

  “I think I’ve seen him at the grocery store a time or two,” George said, peering at the computer screen. “I don’t know for sure. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t swear I’ve seen him before.”

  Yancey tapped on the keyboard again and read. He shrugged. “Clean.”

  “I’m going to make a phone call,” Alec said and got up, heading to a nearby office.

  I sighed. “So what have you boys been up to lately?” I asked.

  “Freezing, mostly,” George said.

  “That makes two of us,” I said. “Maine winters aren’t for the faint of heart.”

  “Hey, have either of you been to Le Chemise? That new French restaurant? I took my wife there a couple of weeks ago and it was just about the best food I’ve ever eaten,” Yancey said.

  I groaned and put my head down on the front counter.

  “What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked.

  I lifted my head off the counter. “That place is the bane of my existence. They opened at the same time I decided to start selling desserts at Henry’s.”

  “You shouldn’t worry about that, Allie. Everyone knows you have the best desserts around,” George said.

  “I don’t know. I had a piece of chocolate cake at Le Chemise and it was so moist, I could hardly believe it,” Yancey said.

  I groaned again. “Thanks, Yancey.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Allie. But you know George is right. People know you. They love your pies and cakes. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, trying to make myself believe it.

  I tried not to worry about it, but I was becoming obsessed. I needed to come up with a plan to lure people back to Henry’s. There was no way Cynthia was going to be able to stay in business if things didn’t turn around.

  I needed to think of a solution. Maybe we could include dessert with some of Cynthia’s more expensive dinners. It would entice people to spend more money. People obviously didn’t have a problem spending a lot of money, in spite of what I had thought. They were still flocking to Le Chemise, after all. If we included dessert with dinner, Cynthia would still only need to pay me for what was used. Dessert could still be ala carte as well. I made a mental note to talk it over with her.

  After several minutes had gone by, Alec emerged from the office.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I called a buddy of mine with the State Department. Phil Jones was special ops personnel in the eighties.”

  “What?” I asked. “That little guy? Don’t they have height requirements?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to believe, but that’s what my buddy said.”

  “What kind of special ops?” Yancey asked.

  “He said that was classified information and he didn’t know it himself,” Alec said.

  “Anything on the others?” I asked.

  “Not a thing,” he said.

  “Huh. I guess this is an instance of appearances being deceiving,” I said, thinking about Phil.

  Alec nodded. “Looks like it.”

  Things were getting interesting in this case.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well, what do you know?” Alec asked, looking at his phone. It was Sunday afternoon and we were spending it lazing around. The skies were gray yet again and we were binge watching old black and white musicals featuring long gone Hollywood stars and starlets. We had a bowl of popcorn between us and were snuggled beneath fuzzy thr
ows. I loved days like this.

  “What?” I asked, but he answered the phone before I got it out.

  “Hello?” he said. He was quiet a minute. “I’ll see what I can do.” He hit end and looked at me. “Care to go for a quick drive?”

  “Sure. Where to?”

  “Phil Jones’s house. He says he’s having neighbor troubles with a certain Jenna Maples. Seems her music is too loud.”

  “Why is he calling you about that?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I almost told him to call the police, but then I thought it might be nice to drop by and see what’s going on. He sounded distressed. And since we’re being invited, he can’t very well say we’re harassing him.”

  “That’s true. Maybe we can get inside his house. There might be clues there,” I suggested.

  “You do like to get inside people’s houses, don’t you?” he pointed out. He stood up and stretched. “That fire does feel good though. Maybe we should just stick around here.”

  “Oh, no you don’t, we’re going to pay Phil a friendly visit. And maybe Jenna, too,” I said, heading to the closet for my coat. He was right. I did like getting inside people’s houses. How else would I get to know them?

  ***

  When we got out of the car, the neighborhood was quiet. We headed up Phil’s walk, and still couldn’t hear anything coming from any of the nearby houses. I glanced at Alec as he knocked on the door. Frito went mad from inside the house at the sound of knocking. I didn’t know how Phil could stand all that barking. I had yet to get a look at the dog, but he sounded part Chihuahua and part raging bull. I liked dogs just fine, but I have to admit I liked them a little quieter.

  When no one came to the door after several minutes, Alec knocked again. The knock was much louder this time, but I wondered if it could be heard over Frito’s barking.

  After several more minutes, the door slowly creaked open and Phil poked his nose out through the crack. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Jones, it’s Alec and Allie. You called with a complaint about your neighbor?” Alec nearly shouted.