Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries)

by Heather Justesen

  “The truck came late and there was a bigger stack of mail than usual,” Ben said. “I’m thinking piña colada today, and my usual cappuccino. How are you?” He set my mail in the stacker tray that was just reachable from the customer side of the counter.

  “Great, busy. I have a question,” I said as I opened the display case door. “Do you deliver mail to the neighborhood where Francine lived?”

  His smile dimmed a little and he nodded. “Yeah.”

  I bagged his cupcake and moved to the cappuccino machine. “Did she ever get letters that didn’t have a postmark?”

  His brow furrowed. “Not that I noticed. We get them sometimes, but it’s fairly unusual these days.” He dug into his pocket for his wallet. “Not like it was a decade ago.”

  “How do things get through the system without a postmark? I thought they all went through those machines that put bar codes on them.” I was mulling over Emma’s words. It would make sense that they had just been added to the box after the mail carrier left, especially if it was easy to access—maybe the mail carrier hadn’t actually brought that letter, maybe it had already been in the box and they got mixed together. But wouldn’t someone have noticed a stranger in the neighborhood? I was sure Brenda would have noticed here, in any case, whether her neighbors in Abilene did or not.

  “Sometimes they’re hand-canceled. Sometimes in small offices like Silver Springs the letter doesn’t always make it through the machine. What’s the deal? Trying to send an anonymous message to someone? You have a secret crush?” His brows waggled at me.

  I grinned. “No, just curious. Someone where Francine used to live said she sometimes got envelopes without postmarks. It’s kind of odd.” I stirred the finished drink and capped it with a plastic lid. “But as you say, it’s not that uncommon, so it’s probably nothing.” I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I didn’t want to make too big of a deal about it.

  He passed over his money and I rang him up. “Well, thanks for the snacks. Have a good day.”

  “You too.” I waved to him before turning to the next customer, half of my mind still on the conversation. The thing that really bothered me was why the stalker bothered to use a postage stamp?

  Weird.

  I decided to think about it more later. When I wasn’t running low on macaroons.

  The stream of customers didn’t slow down for the next two hours. People came and went, some lingered and Marge stopped in for an afternoon snack. Thankfully, she wiped down the tables for me, since there hadn’t been time for me to get out there, and with several people standing at my cash register, I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

  “Busy,” she said as she passed back the towel.

  “No kidding.” I really wanted a break to work on a birthday cake I had to deliver that evening. However, Lenny had taken off for a few hours to accompany Kat to pick up her family from the airport—it would be the first time he’d met anyone besides her mom. I checked my watch. “Lenny should be back soon, then I’ll be able to catch my breath.”

  Marge smiled as she settled at her table to enjoy the cookies she’d bought.

  “Hello,” Mary Ellen called to me as she came in the door a while later. “I came in for my cookie.” She looked around her. “It’s busy in here today.”

  I hurried up front. I’d been cleaning up the mixing bowl from my latest batch of cookies. “It sure is,” I agreed, cursing her timing. “Probably because Lenny’s out for a couple of hours. It always seems to get busier when I’m the only one here,” I joked.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” she asked. “I swear the minute the rest of the city’s staff takes off for lunch, the phone starts to ring off the hook.” She looked better now than she had the previous night, and not just because she wore her usual business attire and makeup. She was somehow more confident and I hoped our talk the night before had reassured her.

  “What can I get for you?” I asked, needing to get back to pull the cupcakes out of the oven soon.

  She studied the display case for a moment. “A black and white cookie, I think. I hear there was a development in the case this morning.” She said without a segue, and sent me a significant look. “I guess that’s what happens when you stick your nose into places it doesn’t belong. He was making such a ruckus.”

  I felt my brows lift in surprise. First because her comment was uncharacteristically biting and second because she knew about Cole. She did work in the city offices, so I supposed she overheard a lot of things that weren’t common knowledge, but I hadn’t expected her to find out yet. “Yes. It’s a terrible thing. And means re-evaluating all of the suspects again.” I passed over her cookie and admired the oddly large and flashy blue jewel on her ring. It seemed out of character for her, even though it complimented her large hands well. “Nice bling. When did you get it?”

  She tipped her hand to smile at it. “It was my grandmothers’. She died last year. I wear it when I need a pick-me-up; after our talk last night, I’m already feeling better.”

  The timer buzzed and I flashed a grin at her. “That’s good. I better get those out of the oven.” I dashed into the back to pull out the cupcakes and put in the cookies I had just mixed.

  When I came out to check on the ringing front bell a few minutes later, there were three more people standing at the counter. I really couldn’t wait for Lenny to get back.

  Things didn’t calm down. I continued working, checking my watch far more often than I should have, anxious for an extra set of hands, and needing a bathroom break like nobody’s business.

  It was nearly two o’clock when Lenny finally entered through the kitchen door. “Sorry I’m running late,” he said as he slid his chef’s jacket over his white T-shirt. “Kat’s family is a nightmare. Seriously, I had no idea—her mom is so normal.” He said this in a low voice so some young mothers at the table by the door wouldn’t overhear.

  I grinned. “You’re supposed to think that—they’ll be your in-laws, after all.”

  He shook his head. “You’ll see what I mean. I don’t know how I got lucky enough not to meet the rest of them before this. I’m hope it’s a really long time before we have to go visit them.”

  The bell over the door rang, and I pointed to the customers walking in. “Help them while I bus the tables, then you’re up front for a while.” Before I took my break, I needed to clean up some crumbs so the place would look presentable again. I had no idea how I was going to survive the next week with Lenny away for his honeymoon. Maybe I’d have to call the local temp agency. Just the notion made me cringe—my luck with employees had not been great, and the thought of training someone, even for a few days’ work, was not in the least appealing.

  I flipped over the hinged end of the counter and walked through. My foot slid out from under me, and I couldn’t catch my balance. My arms waved wildly as I went down, one elbow banging the side of the counter, and I twisted in the air so my hip came down hard on the tile. My head hit the nearby garbage can and it slammed to the ground, spilling its contents all over the floor, drawing every gaze my way—as if they wouldn’t already have been staring after I showed off my gracefulness.

  I knew the fall only took a second, but it seemed like slow motion, and the silence that followed had me blinking as I tried to make sense of everything.

  “Whoa, are you okay?” Lenny asked as he bent to help me sit up. “What happened?”

  “It’s obvious what happened,” I grumbled. My rear end throbbed and my head was only slightly less insistent. “Someone must have spilled water on the floor.”

  He helped me up and accompanied me to one of the tables, careful to step over the puddle. “Take it easy for a minute and I’ll clean up.”

  I waved him away. “I’m fine. Help them.” I pointed to a couple of customers who had just walked in.

  He gave me an unhappy look, wanting to mother me, I guess, but helped the ladies before he bent to clean up the puddle—which, thankfully, was almost completely under the c
ounter flap and out of customer traffic areas.

  “This isn’t water.” He frowned at the rag he had used to wipe at the spill.

  I looked over in confusion. “What is it?” But I saw light glaring off a streak of it where my foot had slid on the tile and realization came in the moment before he spoke.

  “It’s dish soap.” He brought the rag to his face so he could sniff it.

  I had added the clear soap to the bucket, but I was pretty sure I set it back on the counter. “I have no idea how that got there.” I stood and poked my head over the counter. “It’s still here. When did I spill it?”

  He scowled. “When were you out there last? How long since you walked through here?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to even think for…” I considered through the pounding in my head. “Three hours, probably. It’s been nuts since you left.”

  He didn’t respond, so I made a decision based on desperation. “You’re not allowed to go away next week. Cancel your trip. I need you here.” I was more than half serious.

  Lenny gave me a look that said I was nuts. “It’s my honeymoon. You’ll have to deal.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted, which only made him chuckle. He took the rags back to the laundry bucket, then returned to me. “How are you? Do you need to see a doctor? Anything broken?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I was pretty sure nothing was broken, but my hip still ached and I was going to have a major bruise above my elbow. “I wish I knew how the soap got there. Can you imagine the lawsuit if someone else got hurt?” As pain radiated from my hip I tried to imagine gimping around here for the next few hours—never mind the next few days—if the bruising was as bad as I thought.

  “You don’t think someone’s mad at you for discontinuing the Halloween cookies?” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “No.” I remembered Mary Ellen’s nasty comment about Cole and wondered for a moment if I’d been wrong about her, then dismissed it. I was just being paranoid. “It was probably an accident.”

  “If you say so.” But Lenny didn’t sound any more convinced than I was. He grabbed a clean rag and doused it in the sanitizer bucket while I limped to the bathroom to check my appearance and answer nature’s call. When I came out again, he had cleared all the tables and cleaned up the garbage I’d knocked over.

  “Go upstairs and take a break,” he suggested.

  “No, I have a cake to work on.” I really needed to finish it, but my hip hurt and my head pounded. “I think I’ll take some ibuprofen, though.”

  He settled me into the stool by the decorating counter and fluttered around me, fetching all the supplies and tools I’d need. I sighed as I focused on work. I just needed a while to relax and then things would come together again.

  We finally had a lull just before the schools got out for the day and Honey popped in to say hello. Lenny and I both sat down for a few minutes—my hip was still achy from my fall and I was grateful for a chance to get off my feet.

  “What’s going on?” Honey asked when she had finished chewing her first bite of cupcake and making yummy noises. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” She settled back in the chair. “I saw the news reports about Cole.”

  “Right. Yes, Cole died. Isn’t that weird?” My mind had temporarily been elsewhere. “I mean, he was killed by the same person as Francine. Why would they want to kill Cole too?” It had been weighing on my mind since Tingey left the shop that morning, but my fall had wiped it from my mind.

  “Someone who wanted him out of the way, I guess. Maybe he saw something,” she suggested.

  I considered that, analyzing the way Cole had acted when I saw him after Fran died. “I don’t think so. If he knew something, he would have gone to Tingey about it. Or at least have acted a little freaked when I questioned him. He just seemed sad and depressed. He didn’t strike me as that good of an actor.”

  “Hmmm. Maybe he knew something, but didn’t know he knew something,” Honey suggested.

  “Maybe.” I picked at a raisin in my cookie. “More likely there was something about him that ticked off the killer, don’t you think? I mean, Ali said Francine was scared of someone. Maybe he ticked that person off.”

  “You mean with his imaginary relationship?” Lenny asked.

  I turned that over in my mind for a long moment. “Maybe. What if she did have a stalker back home? What if he made her nervous? Maybe he heard Cole going on about how they were dating and decided to get rid of the poor sod. I mean, jealousy is a pretty big motivating factor for stalkers, isn’t it?”

  “Are you serious?” Honey asked. “What are the odds that she’d have more than one stalker at a time? Cole’s actions were pretty creepy.”

  “No question about that. Maybe we’re looking in all the wrong places. Chances are, he saw or knew something he shouldn’t have.” I just couldn’t find another reason.

  “The real question,” Lenny said, “What was Cole really doing if he wasn’t on the lake that night? And why did he lie about it?”

  Since none of us had any concrete ideas, the conversation drifted to my chat with Emma instead.

  “I wonder if you could find out more about the stalker back home,” Honey suggested. “I mean, that seems to be your best clue at this point. You’re having really terrible luck tracking anyone else who might be responsible for Francine’s death.”

  “I know. But Emma didn’t seem to know much about it. And she was picking up her sister’s body. I didn’t want to push her too hard for info when I’d barely met her. How would I explain that it wasn’t just idle curiosity, but I wasn’t with the police department, either?” I asked.

  “You could tell her local law enforcement is incompetent when it comes to murder, and you’re way better at catching killers,” Lenny said. He was never going to like cops, even if he no longer grew rigid every time Detective Tingey walked into the store.

  “They aren’t incompetent,” I insisted. “Tingey is very good at his job.”

  “That’s why you caught the last two killers.” He shot me a disbelieving look.

  “That was a fluke.” I wasn’t sure it was, actually. Tingey was really good at a lot of things, but I did seem to learn details that he couldn’t, or wasn’t looking for.

  Honey shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. Maybe you should contact Emma and see if she has anything more she can share with you.”

  “I wish Tingey would share some info with me. It would be so much easier if he did.” When Lenny’s expression said I was dreaming, I sighed. “Fine. I’ll call Emma tomorrow and see if there’s anything else I can get from her.”

  “Maybe she has a letter or two she could scan and send you,” Honey suggested. “You never know if there will be details in them that will lead you to the answers.”

  “Maybe. But don’t you think they would have turned those over to the police? I imagine they’d want them in the files to back up her claims that he was stalking her.”

  “Depends. Didn’t she say the police didn’t seem to take the problem seriously in Abilene? Maybe they gave up. Or maybe she can remember something more specific about then,” Honey said. “If the notes wigged them out, it’s possible Emma will remember them pretty well—we remember things that provoke strong emotions. Francine had to be pretty scared if she picked up and moved to a new place, lied about where she came from and changed her last name.”

  “True. How do you think the stalker found her again if she took so many precautions?” I was totally confused and reaching for leads, though they all felt out of my grasp.

  A long moment passed in silence before Honey ventured, “You know, there’s something we haven’t done yet, that has always led us, one way or another, toward answers.”

  I had a bad feeling about this. “What’s that?”

  “Investigate her house.” She looked at me under lowered lashes, as if not facing me directly would protect her if I disagreed with her idea.


  “You mean break in. And surely Tingey would have removed anything useful by now.” But she was right, searching through the victim’s belongings had been useful in the previous two cases.

  “He may think he has, but maybe not. After all, we found information in Valerie’s room after they had been through her things. They led to the killer. Eventually.”

  I considered that, but then I thought of Brenda. “Francine’s next-door neighbor is so nosy. I don’t know if I could get in there without her noticing and calling the cops.” Plus, despite Honey’s lucky break at picking a lock last summer, I doubted it would happen again.

  “If Brenda has any outside activities—”

  I interrupted Honey, “You mean besides her cats? I doubt it.”

  “—I bet Marge will know.” Honey continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “We could go while she’s gone. Or better yet, we can sneak in at night when the whole neighborhood is asleep, so no one else will turn us in.”

  “Us?” I asked. “You expect me to drag you through this after we were charged with trespassing last time?”

  “Yes, ‘us.’ Like I’d leave you hanging. Helping you investigate is the only non-strawberry-jam-on-my-new-white-blouse excitement in my life right now.”

  “She has a point,” Lenny said. “Her life is a lot more boring than yours. Pretty lame, in fact.” His eyes held a twinkle, though his face didn’t show the fact that he was teasing her.

  “Hey!” Honey gave him a playful push and he laughed.

  I sighed heavily as if I were exasperated by the byplay, but secretly, I loved the fact that Honey had become such good friends with Lenny, cementing my pieced-together family. “Work starts awful early in the morning. Staying up late to dig through Francine’s house will make it hard to stay awake tomorrow.” I that mulled over in my head, and it made a lot of sense. Nothing else was panning out, and my best bet was probably going to be to do some digging. This would be harder than at the hotel, or the barn and getting in would be a problem.