by Kate Bell
She nodded. "I see. I hope they get it figured out quickly. If someone did something to hurt her, then we need justice." Her mouth made a hard line and anger crept into her eyes.
"Can I get your name?" Alec asked.
"Susan Goode."
Alec made another note in his notebook. "We appreciate your time and if you remember anything else that may be of help, will you call me?" He whipped out a business card and handed it to her.
She nodded. "I will. I promise."
"Thank you, Susan," I said as we headed back to our booth.
"Wow. Trying out for the Olympics. Tessa must have been in excellent health," I said when we were out of earshot of Susan.
"I'll say. It's looking more and more like foul play. Sounds like someone might have had a grudge against Tessa," Alec said.
Chapter Eight
"Strawberry tarts. That's how I do the festival," I announced, holding up a box of the delectable little red jewels.
Alec peered into the open box I held up for his inspection. "Those look wonderful. I may need to sample them. You know, to make sure they pass inspection."
I gasped. "What are you saying, sir? Do you think my tarts might not pass inspection?"
He grinned. "There's a rumor going round that you may bake with a little extra flair. A poisonous flair."
"Alec!" I hissed. "Don't say that!" I glanced over my shoulder and saw an elderly woman eyeing us. I turned to her. "Good morning, Ma'am. It's a lovely day for a festival, isn't it?"
She snorted and walked on. I turned on Alec, glaring at him.
"She didn't hear me," he assured me with that wicked grin of his. "I swear. She just wasn't in the mood for strawberry tarts. With a special ingredient."
"Watch it, buddy." I put the box on the table and looked over at Lucy. "Some people."
"I love your strawberry tarts, Allie. I would never say they were poisonous," she said, leaning back in the folding chair. "Alec must not want any tarts."
"Okay, can we all please stop saying the ‘P’ word? Seriously? This isn't helping business," I warned.
I couldn't bake in a hotel room, so we had driven home the night before. I had stayed up late and finished my baking. Hopping into bed for a good night's sleep had been heavenly. I was regretting signing up for the entire week of the festival. We still had four more days to go, and I was exhausted. My legs felt like wood and all I wanted to do was take a nap for a day and a half.
Thank goodness my daughter Jennifer was holding down the fort at home and doing the baking for Henry's Home Cooking Restaurant. I didn't want to let Cynthia Hoffer down. Cynthia had been a dream to work with and I liked our little arrangement. All I had to do was come up with recipes for delectable baked goods, do the baking, and then drop them off at her restaurant. She handled the selling part and took a tidy little commission off the top.
Unfortunately, shortly after I started selling baked goods at Henry's, a new French restaurant had opened its doors, and the first two months had been disappointing for my new business. Authentic French desserts were a novelty in Sandy Harbor and people had flocked to the restaurant, leaving Henry's in the lurch. But things picked up a bit once I became more active with my baking blog. All in all, it had been a satisfying career change from blogging about grief.
"I'm hungry," Ed said as I set the tarts out on the booth table.
The tarts were covered in plastic wrap to keep flying critters off them and they looked sweet and pretty.
"We need to save some of them to sell," I pointed out and stowed the empty box under the table. "But I suppose we can share one or two of them."
I had made both petite tarts and larger ones so my customers would have a variety to choose from.
"I don't think I'll ever get tired of strawberries," Lucy said, helping herself to some of the fresh berries Alec had picked up for us.
"Me either. And look at this," I said, holding up a loaf of strawberry bread. "Sour cream strawberry loaf."
"Oh," Lucy said, eyeing the loaf of bread as I set it on the table. "My, my."
I pulled back the plastic wrap on the loaf and cut it into thin slices and then cut those into thirds. Samples always drew the crowds in. I had a glass-covered plate that I arranged the slices on and placed the lid on the plate.
"Now all we need to do is wait for the customers," I announced, pulling out two sizes of plastic-wrapped strawberry loaves and setting those next to the tarts. There was a small size for the petite appetite and larger for, well, the larger appetite. It all smelled heavenly, and I was ready to dive into my own baked goods.
A young couple walked up to the booth and eyed my offerings. Then they looked at me and the woman leaned over and whispered something to the man.
"Would you like a sample?" I asked, reaching toward the sample plate.
The woman leaned in close to the man and whispered again, and they walked off without a word. I looked over at Alec.
He shrugged.
"What was that about?" Lucy asked, picking up another berry.
"I don't know. Maybe they don't like strawberry loaf," I said. "Pity for them, because I happen to know how tasty it is."
I pulled out another folding chair and sat down. My feet still hurt, and I needed to give them a rest. I would have to think things over before agreeing to another marathon. Knowing it would be hard and actually experiencing how hard it was were two very different things.
"Uh oh," Lucy said.
I looked at her and then looked in the direction she had nodded.
Suzanna. I groaned.
She strode up to my booth and stopped, putting her hands on her hips. She glared at me, then looked down at my sample plate and the tarts.
"What is this?" she said, motioning toward my baked goods with her hand.
"Strawberry tarts and strawberry sour cream loaf," I said as politely as I could manage. I wasn't sure why she always had such an attitude with me. Sure, Lucy and I had sampled her desserts, hoping to come up with better recipes, but so what? It's not like we stole them. We paid for them fair and square.
She snorted. "It figures you would come up with something so plain and drab. Plain and drab desserts for a plain and drab woman." She gave me an evil smile when she said it.
I gasped. "You are the meanest little woman I have ever met," I declared. "Why do you have to be so—so mean?"
She snorted again. She was good at snorting so I guess she thought she ought to make use of it.
"You have no imagination. Why is that all you came up with? Why could you not come up with something more creative?"
"Well, what did you come up with?" I asked defensively. I glanced at my strawberry loaf and tarts. They weren't plain. They were tasty. And well, they smelled good, too.
"White chocolate spun around a strawberry napoleon and strawberry Fraisier." Her hands were still on her hips and she had a smile I wanted to wipe right off her pixie face in a not too gentle way.
"Well," I said, trying to come up with a classy retort. "That's nice. But really, sometimes people just want dessert that's tasty and—and," I trailed off. So much for a classy retort.
Alec sighed. "It's dessert. Dessert doesn't have to do back flips to please people."
I smiled at him. My hero.
Suzanna shrugged. "That's okay. Plain people need dessert, too, I suppose."
I could feel the anger rising inside of me. Why didn't that little woman find something else to do with herself besides torment me?
"Suzanna, don't you have something else to do with your time?" I asked her.
She chuckled. "I'm sorry. I've been unkind. I did not mean to be. Please accept my apology."
The look on her face said she wasn't the least bit sorry.
"Fine. I accept," I said. I could fake it if it got her out of my hair.
"Well, since you have nothing else to offer, I suppose I will go back to my booth. I've had so many customers this morning. How many have you had?"
I bit my lower lip. Darn h
er for asking. "A lot," I lied.
She looked at me skeptically. "A lot? Like, five? Ten? Twenty?"
I shrugged. "We don't keep track of that kind of thing. That would be bragging and my mama taught me not to brag." There. That would take care of her. I was certain her mama never taught her any sort of manners.
"I see. Then let me guess. Zero. It's zero, isn't it?" she asked with a smirk.
I clenched my teeth together. I relaxed them and smiled at her. "To tell you the truth, we just got here and got unpacked. I know we will see scads of customers any minute now. Why don't you run along and tend to your booth now?"
"All right. I've got a lot to do anyway," she said. "But if you need any help, let me know, okay?"
I looked at her. "Really?" It was unlike her to be kind to me.
"No," she said and laughed as she walked away.
"That woman!" I said, clenching my fists.
"Don't let her get to you, honey," Lucy said, patting my shoulder. "She's just a mean little woman. Your mama and your grandmama taught you better."
"That's right, they did," I said, nodding my head. I wished either of them were here right now. They'd give Suzanna what for and teach her some manners.
Chapter Nine
Day four was just as lovely as the three before it. The sun was out, but the clouds made for a cool day. Strawberry apple muffins and strawberry cream cakes were the stars of the day. I cut up some muffins into bite-sized chunks and put them on the glass-covered sample plate.
"There. That should do it," I announced, putting my hands on my hips and looking at the displayed cakes and muffins. "What do you think?"
"Looks great," Lucy said and yawned.
"I know these early mornings are hard. You don't know how much I appreciate your help. And Ed's."
"Yeah, but the lazy lout stayed in bed this morning," Lucy said, stretching. "I'll tell him you paid me a hundred bucks for sitting with you today, and he missed out."
I chuckled. "You do that. I don't think he'll care much, though." Ed was the kind of guy that did what he wanted and not even money could persuade him to do something he didn't want to do.
I sat on the other folding chair and watched the people walk by. Sales for the previous three days had been disappointing. I'd gone home with an awful lot of what I had brought. It didn't make sense. The crowds were good and lots of people stopped by and looked at what I had brought to sell. A few tried the samples, but not many bought my desserts. Most people simply looked at me and moved on. Some whispered and looked at me pointedly before moving on and that was what was getting to me.
"Have you thought about why we aren't selling much?" Lucy asked as we watched people walk by.
I shrugged. "I've thought about it. I just don't know what that reason is."
I looked up just in time to see Calvin Black approaching, and I groaned. Alec may have considered him a friend, but he was a questionable friend as far as I was concerned.
"Where's Alec?" Lucy whispered.
"He went to check out the other booths again," I whispered back.
"Ladies, how are you doing this fine morning?" Calvin asked. He looked entirely too happy to see us and I didn't like it.
"We're doing just fine," I answered. "How's the investigation going?"
"That's what I've come to talk to you about." He grinned and it was a disturbing grin, to say the least. What was it about this guy that bugged me so much?
"Oh? What did you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to sound chipper.
"We've determined the pink substance on Tessa Brady's face is, in fact, strawberry frosting. Can you tell me, have you visited Sanford before the Strawberry Festival began?"
"What? What do you mean, have I visited Sanford before the Strawberry Festival?" I asked him. I didn't like this line of questioning and I wished Alec were here.
"I mean, have you been in the area before? Have you been to Sanford?" he repeated.
I sighed. "As a matter of fact, yes. I've come to the Strawberry Festival several times, but I think the last time was about ten years ago. I really couldn't give you an exact number, to be perfectly honest. And I am being perfectly honest."
Calvin whipped out his notebook and wrote something down. It took all the self-control I could muster to keep from sighing loudly. If Calvin Black thought I had something to do with Tessa's murder, he was sadly mistaken.
"And Lucy? What about you?"
Lucy's eyes went wide, and she looked at me. I shrugged. Calvin was wasting his time, and I needed to talk to Alec about it. Maybe he could get his zealous friend to back off.
"I—I, well, I suppose I've come to the festival a few times over the years," she said, looking at Calvin and smiling. "I don't remember how many times, though."
Calvin scribbled in his notebook again and I rolled my eyes at Lucy.
I saw Alec approaching over Cal's shoulder and relief swept over me. Alec would put an end to this foolishness.
"Hey, everyone," Alec said as he came to stand beside Calvin. "How are you, Cal?"
Calvin smiled at him. "I'm great. I just stopped by to ask the ladies a few questions."
"Oh?" Alec asked, and his face became serious. "What kind of questions?"
Cal shrugged. "Just wondering how often Allie and Lucy have been to Sanford. Before the festival began, I mean."
"Oh, come on Cal. I can assure you that Allie and Lucy are not killers. Have you even determined what the substance was in the victim's mouth? Did it really kill her? She could have eaten something innocuous that caused an allergic reaction in her."
Calvin looked down at the ground, then back at Alec and closed his notebook. "To be honest, we don't know what the substance is, and you are correct. She might have had an allergic reaction to something she ate. We know there was strawberry frosting in her mouth and on her face. As I've stated before, the mayor's office is breathing down our necks and we need answers. I decided to get information up front and cut down on the time I need to spend investigating after we get toxicology reports back." He smiled at Alec.
That Cal was a smug customer. I couldn't imagine Alec being friends with him. He made my skin crawl, and I hoped I wouldn't be seeing a lot of him while the festival ran.
"Or you're wasting your time," Alec pointed out. "If she died of some illness or allergic reaction."
"Humor me," Cal said. "Or I can insist we go downtown."
Alec motioned to me to answer Calvin's questions.
"What do you want?" I asked Calvin. I was done being polite. "I've been to the festival several times, and I didn't know Tessa Brady. I had no beef with her. But, she does have an ex-friend running around here that is, after all, an ex. Not to mention a boyfriend. Maybe you should spend some of your time interviewing them?"
"Yes, I'm aware of them and I'll be questioning them further," he said, making notes. "How about you, Lucy?"
"Like I said, I've been to Sanford a few times. I don't know how many, though. I didn't know the victim or anyone in her family." Lucy smiled at him and waited. We both felt more confident with Alec standing close by.
Cal finished his notes. "Do you recall the victim buying a cupcake from you? Allie said she was running the marathon, so I'm assuming you or your husband sold her the cupcake?"
Lucy shrugged. "I told you I didn’t recognize her. She may have looked vaguely familiar, but I can't say for sure. I told you all of this before. We had lots of people stop by for samples and we sold regular sized cupcakes. Sometimes there were four or five people stopping by at a time and to be truthful, I didn't pay attention."
Cal eyed her and then nodded. "I understand. I can see where that might happen. There have been lots of people here at the festival."
"Lots," I agreed.
He looked at me. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything that seemed out of the ordinary?"
I shook my head. "Not that I can think of. Other than Tessa's death, things have been pretty ordinary."
He nodded. "Too b
ad a death had to ruin the festival. I was told numbers have been lower because of Tessa's death."
"Why?" Alec asked. "Has it been released to the press that she was murdered? A death caused by illness or accident shouldn't slow down the numbers."
What Alec said made sense. I was liking this Calvin guy less and less. It felt like he had decided to solve a murder whether or not there had been one.
Cal shrugged. "I guess it's hard to say. Maybe it's the economy. I'm only passing on the information I was given. Well, I don't want to take up any more of your time. I'll be in touch."
We watched him walk away. When he was out of earshot, I turned to Alec.
"You said he was a friend of yours? Because he doesn't seem like a friend," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Well, I guess I'm using the term loosely." He shrugged and came around the back of the booth. "I guess I need to pick my friends more carefully."
"Do you really think Tessa was murdered? Does it seem to you like that's what happened?" I asked. If anyone would know, it would be Alec. He had spent over thirty years on the police force before retiring.
"I don't know. We really need that toxicology report. Until we get it, it's all just a guessing game."
"I just don't understand why Calvin is so determined to point to my cupcakes as being a possible murder weapon before he knows any of the facts about how Tessa died."
"He's being a detective. We're taught to over-think every shred of information, but we can be wrong. We're human," he said with a wink.
I nodded. At this point, I hoped Tessa hadn't been murdered. It would be easier for the family to deal with and it would be easier for Lucy and me. Cupcakes should never be accused of being murder weapons. They were too cute and tasty to be anything but fun.
Chapter Ten
"I don't understand this," I said, staring down at the muffins and strawberry cream cakes I had spent all last evening baking. "Why isn't anyone buying my desserts?"
"Maybe everyone's just out enjoying the festival," Lucy offered. "Don't worry about the desserts. They're very tasty."
