A DEADLY DANISH

by Fiona Grace

  “Long story,” Ali said, pushing stray tendrils of hair off her sticky forehead.

  “The council members started voting five minutes ago,” Delaney said, answering her earlier question.

  A feeling of grave seriousness descended upon Ali. There were fifteen town council members in total, and eight needed to vote against the bill for them to win. “Any ETA on when they’ll release the outcome?”

  Delaney and Seth shrugged in unison.

  “No idea,” Seth said.

  “We’re just going to have to wait,” Delaney replied.

  Ali chewed at a hangnail, nervously. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it was radiating from every nervous vendor and gathering overhead like a brewing storm cloud.

  Just then, Ali heard a bit of a commotion on the steps. She craned her head, tiptoeing to see over everyone, and spotted Rodrigo da Silva emerging from the town hall. He must’ve just cast his vote, except where all the other council members were hiding out in their offices, tucked out of sight of the crowds below, he’d chosen to come down and be among them. He really meant it when he said this was more than a job to him, because he alone was brave enough to come out and field everyone’s questions. It was all the more brave considering everyone outside was really wound up waiting to hear whether they’d still be able to earn a living come tomorrow.

  “What’s the vibe in there?” someone asked.

  Rodrigo shook his head. “Too close to call. Everyone’s playing their cards pretty close to their chest. It could go either way.”

  ‘Better than a landslide in Marvin’s favor...,’ Ali thought, trying to look on the bright side.

  “Has anyone declared how they voted yet?” another person asked.

  Again, Rodrigo da Silva shook his head. “Other than me, and you all know I’m opposed.”

  There was a smattering of applause, and Ali glanced around, pleased to see how many of the people clapping had been on the other side of the debate yesterday. It was a good sign, and she allowed herself to feel a flicker of hope once again that things may well be turning in their favor.

  “Why are you clapping for him?” came a grumpy voice from somewhere nearby. “Selfish, the lot of you. What about those of us on the pier? Who’s going to help us?”

  Ali recognized the voice immediately. It was the grumpy cotton candy seller from the pier, the crass man with the dark sense of humor. He pushed forward, using his bony elbows like battering rams to get people out of his way, then stood in front of Rodrigo da Silva, glowering at him darkly.

  “Well?” the cotton candy seller barked. “When do we get any help?”

  Rodrigo da Silva maintained his composure as he spoke in a calm, quiet voice, directly to the grumpy old man, pausing every time the man interrupted, never raising his voice. As she watched him, Ali felt terrible for even considering him as a suspect. It was clear how good of a guy he really was, and how much he truly cared about the community. It also showed her just how passionate he’d become yesterday when arguing with Marvin, since he was clearly usually composed.

  Just then, the big wooden town hall doors opened, and the speaker from the night before stepped out. His eyes skimmed across the large crowd, and he ran a nervous hand over his goatee. Presumably it wasn’t normal for such a crowd to gather.

  “Good evening, everyone,” he began in a shaking, uncertain voice. “I am here to announce the results of tonight’s votes regarding a tax amended bill to business properties acting as food venues—”

  “Cut to the chase!” the grumpy cotton candy seller cried.

  “Right, y—yes, okay,” Mr. Goatee replied, becoming instantly flustered. “The bill has lost by a simple majority of thirteen to two.”

  Ali’s heart seized as the crowd gasped collectively.

  “Someone translate that gibberish for me!” the old man shouted.

  “We did it!” Ali squealed.

  The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Ali couldn’t quite believe it. She’d not even dared to hope for this outcome. Relief rushed through her entire body. Not only had they won; they’d won by a landslide.

  Just then, Ali spotted Sullivan Raine marching in the opposite direction, away from the celebrating crowds. He was scowling darkly, using his big bulky body to shove people out of his way as he stormed off. Ali couldn’t help it. She smiled to herself. It served him right.

  “Ali!” a voice called.

  She swirled back to see Rodrigo da Silva approaching her.

  “Councilman da Silva,” she said, grinning widely. “Congratulations!” She couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around him.

  “Please, call me Rodrigo,” he replied. “I think we know each other well enough now. And anyway, you’re the one who should be congratulated.”

  Ali disengaged herself. “Me?”

  Rodrigo nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, it was your impassioned speech at the meeting that tipped the balance. Once the mood shifted among the vendors, the councilors had no choice but to listen. It’s never a good idea to go against popular opinion. Not if you want to keep your job, that is.”

  Ali grinned with pride. Then she felt arms sweep her up and found herself being twirled in circles by Seth. It was a huge moment of celebration for every vendor on the boardwalk.

  But as Seth set her down and she landed back on her feet, giddy and a little dizzy, she noticed Marco through a gap in the crowd. His dejected figure was sloping away. Ali’s heart lurched for him. For him, the win may well become bitter-sweet Because if he lost the pending lawsuit, he’d lose his business regardless.

  “Excuse me one moment,” Ali said to Seth, slipping her way through the crowd before trotting off after him.

  “Marco, wait!” she called ahead.

  Marco halted at the sound of her voice and turned. He attempted a smile on her behalf but couldn’t mask the pain in his eyes. It made him look even more pitiful.

  “Don’t give up hope,” Ali said when she reached him. “This is only the beginning of the fight.”

  Marco took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know, Ali.”

  “Well I do,” she assured him. “Look what we vendors just achieved. And now we can put all that energy and focus into your problem. I promise you have my full attention now, and I’ll bet the backing of the rest of the town. Just hold on. I’ll fix it.”

  Marco looked grateful. But his moment of lifted spirits was short-lived. He dropped his gaze to the ground, and in an apologetically small voice, simply said, “But how?”

  Ali didn’t know how. She couldn’t answer that question definitively yet. But she had one win under her belt, and she’d be damned if she didn’t get another. As far as she saw it, her work wasn’t done until every vendor on the boardwalk was saved.

  She took Marco by the shoulders. “Just trust me.”

  Marco looked at her with dark, sorrowful eyes. Finally, he nodded his head, very slowly. “Okay,” he said, with an exhalation. “I trust you.”

  Ali smiled and squeezed his shoulders. “Good. Now come back to the party. It’s too late to do anything right now. So tonight, we celebrate. Tomorrow is another day.”

  For the first time since her pep talk had begun, Marco smiled, and he relented. Ali steered him back to the group for the celebrations, and he was enfolded within the cheering crowd.

  Just then, she heard the happy yap-yap-yap of Scruff and turned to see her trusty companion come racing toward them, wagging his tail merrily. He clearly didn’t need convincing that now was the time for celebration! He leapt into the crowd, barking and yapping away as he weaved his way through the legs of hugging, celebrating vendors.

  But the fight wasn’t over, Ali reminded herself. As far as she was concerned, none of them were safe until all of them were safe. And that meant tomorrow, the hard work would start all over again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Ali opened her eyes the next morning after a long, deep sleep. Scruff was curled at her feet, snoring contentedly,
having followed her home from the town hall celebrations. ‘Town hall celebrations!’ she thought, sitting up suddenly as the events of the preceding evening came back to her with a sense of elation. Her sudden movement woke Scruff, and the dog blinked at her with a perplexed expression.

  “We won, Scruff!” she cried. “We won!”

  He yipped.

  Ali tore off the covers and jumped out of bed, feeling like she was on cloud nine. She floated past the clothes she’d dropped on the floor last night—having been too tired from all that celebrating to do anything as taxing as putting them in the laundry basket—and into the shower, where she hummed a happy tune as she washed and dressed for the day. Once dressed, she floated into the living room to collect her purse, wallet, and store keys, weaving her fingers through her wet hair to brush it. As she picked up the keys, she grinned to herself, thrilled to know the bakery was safe and she would soon be serving the good people of Willow Bay the coffee, cupcakes, and freshly baked Danishes they so thoroughly deserved.

  It was only when she found her cell phone that Ali’s mood changed.

  It was on the coffee table beside her shoes. She’d discarded both after staggering in through the door and straight to bed. But as she picked it up now, she realized she’d missed a call from the night before from the Willow Bay hotel. Her mother.

  Ali’s stomach dropped. In all the excitement, she’d allowed herself to put the horrible argument with her mom to the back of her mind. But now she remembered the list of removals firms her mother had insultingly given her and felt that crushing pain all over again.

  She would have to call her back later. Good thing her mom liked to sleep in. It meant she had a couple of hours to bake before she had to deal with her. She just hoped her mom didn’t put her in too sour a mood. There was still Marco’s legal predicament to resolve. Ali needed her wits about her if she was going to outsmart a con man.

  She slung her phone into her purse and headed out the door.

  It was a cooler morning than usual, and her still damp hair only added to the chill. She quickly tied it into her customary braid, squeezing out the excess water as she strode down the road. As she passed the last apartment on her road—Nate’s house—she gave it a sad, cursory glance. Maybe there was an element of truth to what he’d told her yesterday, about her never having any time for him. Her heart belonged to her bakery, and now that she’d gotten a taste of success for her council shenanigans, she wanted to keep going. It was inspiring, feeling like she’d made a difference and helped people. The bill was just the beginning. Next Marco. And after? Ali didn’t know, but she hoped to keep going. There was no space for romance in her life right now, and that wasn’t a bad thing. It was just how it had to be.

  But she still wanted to apologize to him for how she’d made him feel. She didn’t realize what he was going through since she was so preoccupied with her own stuff. She never wanted to make anyone feel bad, especially someone like Nate whom she respected so much. When the time was right, she would have a proper conversation with him, and hopefully draw a line in the sand under their failed romance. Hopefully, she and Nate could simply become good friends, like she and Seth.

  She felt the ache in her heart lift, and she carried on to the bakery with a lighter step.

  When she reached the store, she saw the horrible green graffiti glowing faintly in the dawn light. Despite all that scrubbing, the letters were still visible. If only Ali had actually been able to purchase the supplies from Sid before he’d been arrested, she’d actually have the necessary tools to get rid of them! As it stood, she’d have to put up with it a little longer. She just hoped it didn’t drive people away.

  As she unlocked the door, she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Piper advancing. She had a huge grin on her face.

  “Congratulations!” she cried as she reached Ali, and she opened her arms wide for an embrace.

  “You heard about the bill?” Ali asked, as she folded into Piper’s arms.

  “I heard alright,” Piper replied. “You must be thrilled.”

  “I am,” Ali said.

  Piper paused. “You sure? ‘Cos you still have your stressy face on.”

  Ali couldn’t help but laugh. “Stressy face?” she asked, turning the key and pushing open the door. “I have a stressy face?”

  “Yup,” Piper said, following in after her. “It’s like this.”

  Ali turned to look at Piper’s less than flattering impression of her thinking face.

  “Yikes,” Ali said with a light-hearted laugh. “I need to work on that.”

  They headed out into the kitchen, collecting the pots, pans, and ingredients in a hypnotic way since it was all second nature now.

  “So why are you so stressed?” Piper asked, as she began weighing sugar on the scales. “You caught a killer and defeated a council bill. Doesn’t that mean it’s time to kick back, relax, and enjoy the fruits of your labor?”

  “Not quite,” Ali replied, dumping three pats of butter into a mixing bowl. “Marco still needs help.”

  “Is that still going on?” Piper said, handing her the sugar. “I totally forgot about that. What a bummer. Poor Marco. What are you going to do?”

  Ali tipped the sugar into the mixing bowl on top of the butter. “I’m going to speak to the customer.”

  “Why?” Piper said, sounding skeptical.

  Ali plugged in the electric hand whisk. “To see if I can make some out of court settlement.”

  “You’re going to try and reason with him?” Piper asked, looking like she had literally zero faith in Ali’s ability to do so. “With a man who fakes allergic reactions to steal money off small business owners?” She scoffed. “Good luck.”

  Ali twisted her lips. Piper had a point, even if she could have phrased it a little more elegantly. How likely was it that a man like Bo Bronnigan would see reason? If he was the con man Ali suspected, she’d have to do more than be civil with him.

  As she and Piper made up the batches of cupcakes, cookies, pastries, and macarons for the morning customers, she mulled it over and over in her mind. She was still thinking about it when the clock hit nine, and it was time to open the door of Seaside Sweets to customers.

  She paced across the checkerboard floor to the door, noticing there was already a figure waiting outside. Her thoughts turned to Marvin Chessley. For all his flaws, he had been one of her customers, and she cherished him for that. But now he was gone, she thought sadly.

  She unlocked the door and heaved it open. “Good morning! Welcome to Seaside Swee—” She paused. Standing in the doorway was her mom. She had a suitcase at her feet, and a prim expression on her face.

  “Good morning,” she said in a clipped tone.

  “Mom? What are you doing here so early? Why are your bags packed? You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “Yes. I checked out. It’s become very evident to me that you do not want me here.”

  Ali was about to refute it, but she decided to change tack. Instead of arguing with her mother—especially considering it was kind of true, she hadn’t wanted her there—she decided to side-step the issue.

  “Stay,” she said. “I know I’ve been super busy with the bill and stuff, but that’s all sorted now. Did you hear? The bill failed.”

  “The one about the taxes?” Georgia said, a small hint of interest in her tone.

  “That’s right,” Ali said, with a grin. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll tell you all about it over coffee. I haven’t even had a cup yet; I’ve been on a natural high.”

  Georgia frowned, looking disapproving, but followed Ali inside, nonetheless. Ali took it as yet another small victory. Step by step. That was the way to deal with her mother.

  As Georgia sat at the window table, Ali fetched them coffee and pastries, then joined her. She didn’t say a word about Georgia actually tasting one of the Danishes for once, just simply put them there as an option.

  “So,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Did you hear
the other good news?”

  “What’s that?” Georgia asked.

  “The killer has been caught. In no small part thanks to me.” She grinned.

  But Georgia did not look impressed. “That’s hardly something to brag about. Living in a nice town where there isn’t any crime in the first place is the sort of thing you can feel proud about.”

  Ali raised her eyebrows. Her efforts to handle her mother were already starting to strain. But she didn’t want to keep following the same script with her mom over and over again. She wanted things to be better between them. Different. And since the only thing she could change was herself, the way she acted and reacted to her mom, then that was what she’d have to do.

  “I have a lot of pride in Willow Bay,” Ali said. “Especially now. Being active to help the community really gave me such a buzz. I’m definitely going to take more of an active role now that I can see what can be achieved.”

  Georgia frowned. “You mean to say… you’re staying?”

  “Of course I’m staying,” Ali replied.

  “But the list!” Georgia bellowed. “I gave you the list of removals firms. I told you it was time to pack up and give up. Are you really telling me you’re going to go against my advice? After everything I’ve done to help you?”

  Ali felt her chest warble with emotion. But she stayed strong. Don’t argue. Meet her halfway.

  “I really like it here,” she said. “And I totally get your point about the business being a bit shaky. But I just weathered another storm, and I’m still standing. So I think, for now, it would be good to keep going.” She smiled. “There’s still a long way to go. But I’m not ready to give up trying to get there.”

  Georgia blinked several times, then shook her head and tutted. That was definitely an improvement, Ali thought, and for now that would do.

  And with things with her mom feeling better than they had in a long time, Ali turned her mind to the other pressing matter at hand. Marco.

  She decided once she was finished with her tasks for the day, it would be time to give a certain Bo Bronnigan a visit. And perhaps a sharp talking to.