A Freshly Baked Cozy Mystery Box Set

by Kate Bell

  "Too late, I helped myself while you were gone."

  I rolled my eyes at him. The kid was a smart aleck, but I don't know where he got it from. I swear, I don't.

  "Alec, we ran into Tracie at the coffee shop," I told him.

  "And?" he asked.

  "It seems she really did not like Tessa Brady and hasn't lost a wink of sleep over her death."

  "Yeah, Tracie said Tessa had tormented her ever since she stole her boyfriend," Lucy added. She lifted the lid on the sample plate and snitched a square of the strawberry upside down cake. "Mm, this is good."

  "If you ask me, I think she's guilty of something," I said.

  "We don't know for sure if Tessa was murdered," Alec reminded me.

  "But it seems kind of obvious with the foaming at the mouth and the caustic burns," I pointed out.

  "That sounds terrible," Sarah said, wrinkling up her nose.

  "Doesn't it though?" I asked. "Poor thing. She was a cute girl about your age and in great shape. I can't see how it could be anything other than murder."

  "We need to wait and find out for sure," Alec said, taking a sip of his coffee. He grimaced. "That is strong coffee."

  "You asked for a double shot," I reminded him. "It should be an eye opener."

  "Did she say anything else?" Alec asked.

  "Only that Rich was the boy next door, and she fell in love with him. Tessa stole him from her. She says she's over him and doesn't want him back, but I have my suspicions that may not be true."

  I looked over in the direction of Tracie's booth. I could just see the top of her head from where I sat. "Come on, Sarah, Lucy, we need some strawberry soap."

  We got to our feet and wandered down the line of booths, weaving in and out of people. We stopped at Tracie's booth and looked over the soaps and candles. Tracie was with a customer, so we waited.

  "I like this one," Sarah, said holding a bar of strawberry honey soap to her nose. "It smells so fresh."

  I nodded. "I bought some of her candles. Everything she sells is wonderful smelling."

  Tracie finished up with her customer and wandered over to where we stood admiring her soaps.

  "Seems like we keep running into each other," she said, giving me a smile.

  "I know, right?" I said. For a woman that might have just murdered someone, she seemed calm. I never got over the fact that killers could be so cold-hearted. If I ever murdered someone, I was sure I would be shaking and crying so hard there would be no way to cover up what I'd done.

  "I like this lemon one," Lucy said, picking up a yellow bar.

  "That one has olive oil in it. It's good for your complexion," Tracie offered. "There's one with lemon, sage, and thyme, in it too. It's more of a savory scent than a sweet one. It's very nice."

  "I see," Lucy said, picking up a yellow bar with green herbs in it.

  "I see you have more of the strawberry soaps in," I pointed out.

  "Yeah, I stayed up late last night and made some. It doesn't take long. I cut the bars first thing this morning."

  I was wondering if I hadn't gone into the wrong business. Soap making looked like it could be fun without the hazard of excess calories. I could come up with all different kinds of recipes, just like I did with desserts. If Suzanna ran my business into the ground with her lies, soap making might be a good alternative.

  "I love all of these soaps," Sarah said, picking up a purple bar and smelling it.

  "Blackberry and thyme," Tracie supplied.

  "I'll add it to my stack," Sarah said, putting it down with four other soaps she had chosen.

  "You ladies are good for my business," Tracie said and laughed. "Let me give you a business card. It has my web address on it." She reached under the booth table and searched around in her purse. I glimpsed a dark colored bottle in her purse. She zipped it up tight, and I looked at her. What was that? It wasn't anything I recognized, but it looked odd, like an old apothecary bottle from years ago. "Here you go." She handed each of us a card with her web address on it.

  "That's great," I said. "I love what you do here. You're very creative with the scent combinations."

  She beamed. "Thank you. I appreciate that. Last year I worked for that guy in the booth down the way and learned a lot."

  "Barnabas?" I asked.

  She nodded. "He's kind of creepy, but he's very good with herbs and botanicals. I learned a lot from him, but then I realized I was better at creating different kinds of soaps, so I quit to start my own business."

  "Why do you say he was creepy?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "I don't know. Just a vibe. Tessa worked there, too. He seemed to have a thing for her, but then, a lot of guys did." She looked away and arranged some of the soaps on the booth table.

  "That must have been difficult if you didn't get along with Tessa," I said.

  She sighed and looked at me. "It was awful. But I learned a lot about herbs and because I worked there, I was able to start my own business. So in the end, I guess it was worth it."

  “Did Tessa like Barnabas’s attention?” I asked, picking up a pale green bar of soap and smelling it.

  “Honey lime,” she said of the soap. “She couldn’t stand him. But it’s not like we had girl-to-girl chats about it. I could just tell. Tessa was fake-nice to him to keep the job though. She was fake-nice about a lot of things.”

  I nodded. "Barnabas seems to know a lot about botanicals," I said. "And you're very creative with the soaps." I wondered about her saying Barnabas was creepy. Sometimes I got the same vibe, and other times I thought he was fascinating with all he knew about herbs and plants. And then there was his interest in Tessa. Had he been too interested?

  "You should try to sell your soaps in local shops. Maybe you could offer a shop owner a commission on each bar sold in exchange for selling your items," Lucy suggested to Tracie. She had three bars in her hand and was eyeing a fourth. These soaps were addicting.

  I glanced over at Rich's booth. He was sitting at the table, looking forlorn. I didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or think of him as a killer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Guess what?" Alec asked me.

  I turned to him as I packed up the rest of the strawberry upside down cakes. "What?"

  "Barnabas asked us to dinner at the seafood place down on the highway. I said yes." There was a smile on his face as he told me.

  I gasped. "Now? Tonight?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. I figured it would give us a chance to unwind before driving home, and we need to eat, anyway. Plus, he said he'd pay, so why not?"

  "You have got to be kidding me. You're not serious, right?" I asked as I dumped the rest of the samples into the trashcan behind the booth. Business had been a little better today. Even better was the fact that I hadn't seen Suzanna all day. Thad, Sarah, Lucy, and Ed had all left earlier, and we were finishing packing up.

  "No, why would I kid you?" he asked innocently.

  "Alec, we don't even know the man," I pointed out. "Why do I want to have dinner with him?"

  He shrugged. "He had some interesting ideas on athletes and nutrition. I wanted to hear more of it. Don't you? Maybe he has something that will help us with our next marathon."

  I tilted my head. "I hurt so bad from the last marathon that I don't think I will ever run another one."

  "That's what everyone says right after a marathon, whether it's the first one or not. Three weeks later, they're checking their calendar to see when they can squeeze in another one. Trust me, you'll feel differently about it. And if Barnabas has something that will help with soreness, or even better, speed, I would like to know."

  I sighed and looked up to the heavens. I was just plain tired. It had been a long week, and it wasn't over yet. I looked him in the eye. "Can you promise me you won't let the evening get dragged out? That we can go home at a reasonable time?"

  He nodded. "We can. But you might want to text Jennifer and see if she can whip up something to sell tomorrow. Just in case."

&nbs
p; I groaned. Poor Jennifer. She had been such a sport to handle all the baking that went to Henry's Home Cooking Restaurant, plus some of what I had brought to the festival. I hoped she wasn't all out of strawberry recipes. I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  ***

  I sat across from Barnabas and put a smile on my face. As tired as I was, he was still a pleasant person to talk to, so I tried to suck it up and be happy.

  "Ashwagandha root," Barnabas said with finality.

  "Excuse me?" I asked. He was looking at me like I should understand what he was talking about.

  "Ashwagandha root is a little-known herb that helps with athletic endurance and recovery."

  "Oh. What is it?" I asked.

  "An herb that can be dried and ground into a powder and put into capsules. Or added to food. It's also used to help you relax."

  My brows arched in interest. "So, we could put it in cookies and make it tasty and it would help athletic performance?"

  He nodded.

  "So cookies would then be health food, right?" I asked. I was reaching here, but I didn't care. I needed an excuse to keep up with my baking habit.

  He frowned. "No. Cookies will never be healthy. But you could make a healthy cookie without sugar or added fat and put the powdered Ashwagandha root into it. Then, it would be a healthy cookie." He smiled and his eyes lit up at the idea.

  I shook my head. "I like real cookies, not those pretend cookies with no sugar or fat."

  "Allie is an excellent baker," Alec added. "Have you tasted any of the desserts she's brought to the festival?"

  "Oh, no," Barnabas said, pursing his lips together. "I would never poison my body with sugar or trans fats."

  My eyes went wide. "Seriously? Never?"

  He shook his head. "My body is a temple."

  I tried not to be obvious in looking him up and down, but I was pretty sure his string-bean frame was not a temple. A hut in the desert, maybe. But not a temple.

  "I think you're missing out on some of the best parts of life," I said. "Food is something to be celebrated and enjoyed."

  "Food can kill," he said, giving me a hard look. "So many modern diseases are caused by food. Just take a look around you at all the unhealthy people in the world."

  "What about your jams and jellies?" I asked.

  "I use all natural ingredients. Honey, or concentrated juices to sweeten them. No sugar."

  I looked at Alec for help. This guy had a dreary life. Who doesn't love a good cupcake?

  "Allie learned to bake from her grandmama in Alabama," Alec pointed out. "It's family tradition, and quite important to her."

  Barnabas took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to appear rude. I understand that food can be enjoyed and should be. I suppose I've spent my life working on discovering the key to health and sometimes I forget the rest of the world doesn't live like I do." He smiled. "My grandmother died at a young age. Fifty-seven. She had cancer and a good many food-related allergies, and I loved her so. It made me want to discover how to cure disease with food, or at least, with natural supplements."

  I nodded. Now it made sense. Really, Barnabas was doing something similar to what I was doing. I celebrated and remembered my grandmother by doing what she loved. Baking. And he celebrated and remembered his grandmother by trying to find something that might have saved her.

  "I can understand that," I said. "Completely."

  He nodded. "Yes, I see the connection," he said and chuckled. "Look at us. We're just sentimental fools at heart, aren't we?"

  "We are," I agreed.

  "Have you tried out this Ashwagandha root?" Alec asked.

  "I've used it and I have to say, it's promising. But one person does not a study make. I need more volunteers. But I am keeping copious notes on what I'm doing and searching the Internet for more case studies."

  "That's fascinating," Alec said. "I'd love to see your data sometime."

  "Of course!" Barnabas said. His eyes lit up, and he seemed almost giddy at the prospect. "We can go to my shop after dinner and take a look at it."

  I groaned inwardly and looked at Alec.

  "I'm sorry, it's getting late and we still have a drive ahead of us, but maybe in the next day or two?" Alec asked.

  He nodded. "Oh, of course. I know you have to drive home. Feel free to drop by anytime though."

  I smiled and cut off a piece of my deep fried fish with my fork, dipped it into some lovely fatty tartar sauce, and took a bite. Thankfully, Alec was a smart cookie and hadn't said yes to him. He would have been in hot water, otherwise. I looked at Barnabas' plate. Broiled salmon and steamed zucchini, no butter. He took the healthy eating thing a little far if you asked me. He was thin as a rail and a little fried fish might have done him some good. Plus, it was tasty.

  "So, have you heard anything about the young woman that died at the festival?" Alec asked him.

  I looked at Alec, but he kept his eyes on his plate of broiled scallops. Dipped in drawn butter, of course. My man knew how to live.

  Barnabas dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter. I looked up at him as he squinted his eyes shut. I wasn't sure if he had a sudden headache or the subject of Tessa's death was painful.

  Alec looked at him, questioning.

  Barnabas smiled. "I can't imagine why that's of any importance. It was her time to go, right?" He picked up his fork and speared a piece of zucchini and put it in his mouth.

  I glanced at Alec. For someone that was convinced he could help extend people's lives with botanicals, it was odd Barnabas suddenly thought it was Tessa's time to go when she had been so young and healthy.

  Alec watched him, then took a sip of his water and glanced at me. I shrugged.

  Chapter Sixteen

  We had forgotten paper plates and napkins and in the hopes I could move some strawberry cheesecake, I made a quick trip to the local grocery store. I was pushing my shopping cart down the paper goods aisle when I ran into Rich McGinty.

  "Hi Rich," I said, walking up behind him. He was perusing the floral paper napkins, and he jumped like he’d been poked with a pin.

  He turned and stared at me a minute before answering. "Oh, hey, Allie. How are you?"

  "I'm well, thank you. I can't believe I forgot paper plates and napkins. So, here I am. What are you up to?"

  "The same thing. I needed napkins," he said motioning toward the shelf.

  I smiled. "Rich, how are you doing? I mean, how are you really doing? I know this has got to be so hard on you." I wanted to be sympathetic to him in case he was innocent. But if he wasn't, I thought asking him questions about Tessa might push him over the edge. Maybe his guilt would make him confess.

  He shrugged and looked away. "I'm fine."

  "You know, I used to write a blog on grief. My husband was killed by a drunk driver eight years ago. I don't add new articles to it anymore, but I left the blog and all of its content up. It might help you deal with the loss of Tessa."

  He looked at me and his eyes looked a little moist. "It's been really hard."

  "Here, let me get you a card," I said, digging in my purse. I kept a supply of business cards with the blog address on it for occasions like this. I pulled it out and handed it to him.

  "Thanks. I'll have to check it out," he said, looking the card over. Then he looked at me. "I still can't believe she isn't going to text me any minute."

  I nodded. "I understand the feeling completely. When someone leaves you, it feels surreal in the beginning. You keep waiting for them to walk around the corner or call you, or text you. I understand."

  He gave me a tight-lipped smile. "It makes it kind of hard since I never met her parents. I feel like I don't matter to anyone in her family."

  I looked at him, tilting my head. "Why is that, Rich? I know you said it was because her father is the mayor and he's busy, but it seems like he could have squeezed a few minutes in to meet his daughter's boyfriend."

  He returned my gaze for a moment. "I don't know. I asked her about
it all the time. I thought I was important to her."

  "I'm sorry," I said. He seemed genuinely sad about the whole thing. Maybe I had been rash in thinking he had something to do with Tessa's death.

  "Thank you," he said and looked away again.

  "Did she seem like she wanted a future with you?"

  "She said she did. We talked about where we might settle down. She wanted to move to California. No snow, she said." He gave me a grim smile. "I told her I'd go wherever she wanted me to go. As long as she was with me, it didn't matter."

  He was breaking my heart. "Don't let yourself feel too badly about not meeting her family. There may have been a good reason for it. Maybe she didn't have a good relationship with them and she wanted to spare you that," I suggested. Things didn't add up, but he seemed sincere. I couldn't imagine a murderer being that good at acting. I could have been wrong, but Rich didn't seem like a murderer.

  "Yeah. That's what I've been telling myself." He shrugged. "It's not like it matters now. She's gone."

  "Are you and Tracie good friends?" I asked. I figured if I could get insight into his relationship with Tracie I might find some clues to what happened to Tessa.

  "We dated a while. It wasn't anything serious. We lived next door to each other for years and I guess she had a crush on me. She was Tessa's best friend when they were younger. I guess Tracie took it pretty hard when we broke up and I started dating Tessa. I didn't mean to hurt her, but I just didn't have the same feelings she had for me."

  "That's a tricky situation," I said.

  He nodded. "But we've been talking and I think maybe she's forgiven me. I think Tessa's death hit her hard, and she's realizing she doesn't want to hold on to anger over the past. You never know when it's your time to go."

  "Really?" I asked. It was out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

  He nodded. "Yeah. I think she wishes she could have another chance to let Tessa know she doesn't hold anything against her. She really cared about Tessa and she’s sorry she died."

  "That's really good," I said, nodding. I was having a hard time understanding how he could believe that, unless Tracie was trying to get him to think she had nothing to do with Tessa's murder. Every time I had talked to her, her bitterness toward Tessa came through loud and clear.