Chocolate Cake and Chaos (Peridale Cafe Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by Agatha Frost

  “We’ll get through this,” she corrected him.

  Barker smiled so genuinely, it warmed Julia to her core, almost making her forget where she was. When she caught that they were being watched out of the corner of her eye, that warmth vanished. She turned to look at Pauline, who was standing alone on the path, her pale eyes red and swollen.

  “This is your doing,” she said, pointing a finger at Barker. “My husband would still be here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Pauline, I’m -,”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, holding up her hand, which was clinging onto her handkerchief. “Just go!”

  Her children walked towards her and moved her down the path. Only one of them smiled an apology to Barker, with the others appearing to share their mother’s sentiment. Julia turned to Barker, completely stunned by her accusation, but he didn’t look as shocked.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ve done what I came here to do.”

  Julia nodded and wrapped her hand around Barker’s once more. She almost couldn’t believe Jim’s wife was placing the blame for his death on Barker, and not on the person who had killed him. It only renewed Julia’s urgency to discover the truth.

  As they walked out of the church grounds hand-in-hand, Julia spotted Harriet Barnes from Pretty Petals lingering by the gate. When their eyes met, it became apparent to Julia that she was there to see her.

  “Julia,” Harriet said as she hurried forward while scratching at the pencils holding her messy grey bun together. “I was hoping I would see you here. I put together the flowers for this poor man’s funeral, but I hung back to speak to you.”

  “You did a beautiful job,” Julia said with a soft smile, hoping it would serve as a form of apology for their awkward meeting in the florists exactly a week ago.

  “Thank you,” she said, the sincerity in her voice letting Julia know there was nothing to forgive. “I need to apologise for the way I acted when you came to visit me. I didn’t realise the seriousness of the situation.”

  “It’s not you who needs to apologise.”

  “A man is dead, and I feel like I could have stopped that from happening if I had taken the wreath more seriously. I swear, I thought it was only a prank.”

  “So did I,” Barker said reassuringly. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “It’s hard not to,” she mumbled as she put on her glasses, while pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. “I tracked down the girl who ordered the wreath. It was entirely by accident. I was shopping in the supermarket out of town, and I spotted her getting into a taxi. I did something idiotic, and I followed her all the way home, to the Fern Moore Estate. Here, I wrote down the address of the flat she went into.”

  She handed over a scrap of paper to Julia with shaking hands, who read it before immediately giving it to Barker.

  “That’s Billy Matthews’ address,” Barker whispered.

  “It was a young girl with bright red hair,” Harriet said. “That’s all I know, I swear. I hope this goes some way to helping, even if it is too late.”

  “It’s not too late,” Julia said, resting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “This is great, thank you.”

  Harriet smiled her appreciation of Julia’s thanks before hurrying off to her small white van, which had her shop’s logo printed on its side. Julia made a mental note to make sure to bake that fruitcake for Harriet after all.

  “Is she talking about Billy’s sister?” Julia asked. “I saw a girl with red hair in the flat when we visited.”

  “Mercedes-Mae Matthews,” Barker muttered as he closed his fist around the piece of paper. “I should have known.”

  As they walked towards the lane leading up to her cottage, Julia was already planning the trip she was going to make alone to Fern Moore while Barker was at his investigatory meeting.

  Chapter 10

  In the café the next morning, Julia lined Barker’s stomach with a full English breakfast along with multiple cups of coffee, but despite her best efforts to calm him, he was still obviously nervous.

  “You’ll be fine,” Julia reassured him as she topped up his coffee. “Just tell the truth.”

  “What if the truth isn’t good enough?”

  “Then at least you’ve been honest, and you can hold your head high,” she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can I get you anything else? A brownie? Or a slice of chocolate cake? I was working on a new version last night with chopped up brownies added into the mix, and I think you’re going to really like this one.”

  “I don’t think a chocolate cake will fix this, I’m afraid,” Barker said with a sigh before he stood up. “How do I look?”

  “Like a man who is going to get his job back,” she said as she brushed a piece of white fluff off his shoulder. “You’re going to be all right, Barker. I believe in you.”

  Jessie snorted behind her back, but Julia pretended not to hear. She kissed and hugged Barker one last time and waved him out of the café, watching him walk up to the street until he disappeared from view.

  “What are you going to do if he doesn’t get his job back?” Jessie asked as she sprayed the front of the cake display cabinet with window cleaner. “You’ll have an unemployed boyfriend.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “But what if it does?”

  Julia closed her eyes and tried to smile, wanting to remain positive so she could be there for Barker, no matter the outcome.

  “When you’re finished with that, I need you to start on the stock-check,” Julia said as she pulled her apron over her head. “I need to ask a girl about a wreath.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m going to Fern Moore,” Julia explained as she pulled on her pale pink peacoat. “I found the address of the girl who ordered Barker’s wreath, so that’s at least something I can get to the bottom of today. If I figure out whose idea the wreath was, I will be one step closer to discovering the truth.”

  “You’re going to Fern Moore alone?” Jessie asked with a smirk. “You’re feeling brave, aren’t you? Even I wouldn’t go there alone, and I spent six months sleeping on the streets.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Julia said, unsure of who she was trying to convince.

  “Your funeral.”

  Julia grabbed her car keys and headed for the door. She remembered what had happened last time she had taken her car to the estate, so she dropped her keys into her bag, pulled out her phone, and called a taxi.

  The taxi pulled up in front of the closed play-park, and Julia paid the driver. She was sure he drove away quicker than he would have done if he had been dropping her off anywhere else. She pushed her hands into her pockets and looked up to the flat she remembered as Billy’s, the distant sound of a police siren tickling her eardrums. Something rattled behind her, so she spun around, only to see an empty beer can rolling along the street in the breeze.

  Knowing it was wise to do what she needed to and leave as quickly as she could, she hurried to the stairwell she remembered taking with Barker and made her way to the second floor.

  When she reached it, she hurried along the outdoor walkway. She was sure it seemed scarier than when Barker had been by her side. She looked down at the courtyard, her heart skipping a beat when she didn’t spot her comforting Ford Anglia, only to remember the taxi seconds later. In the far corner of the estate, she noticed a large gang of boys heading for the park, cans of beer crammed firmly against their lips. Gulping hard, Julia turned back to the end of the walkway and headed straight for the last flat.

  She knocked on the door and waited for Sandra’s shrieking voice to yell over the sound of the loud TV. When it didn’t, she wondered if she had come all this way only to find that nobody was home. She remembered it was mid-morning on a weekday, and she suddenly felt foolish for expecting to talk to the redheaded teenage girl. Julia turned back to the courtyard and watched as the boys climbed over the fence and into the restricted park. She only spun around again when she heard the
chain rattling behind the door.

  A flash of red hair and freckled skin caught her attention through the gap, and she felt relieved that her trip hadn’t been in vain. She stepped forward, smiling down at the girl, who didn’t look much older than thirteen-years-old.

  “What?” the girl snapped, her voice quieter than her mother’s. “Mum’s not in. Come back later.”

  “I’m here to see you, Mercedes,” Julia said.

  “It’s Mercedes-Mae.”

  “Sorry, Mercedes-Mae,” Julia said, her smile growing. “I wondered if I could ask you a question?”

  “No you can’t,” Mercedes-Mae mumbled, already closing the door. “Go away.”

  “It’s about the wreath,” Julia called through the door, turning her ear to the wood. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who put you up to that.”

  Julia stood and listened for almost a minute, but she heard nothing, other than the TV volume rising. She dropped to her knees and pulled on the letterbox, which was surprisingly loose. She peered into the flat, where she could see the young girl staring at the TV, a baby in her lap. The flat was scarcely decorated and looked in need of a good tidy up.

  “I can tell the police what I know,” Julia called into the flat. “I’m not sure they’ll be as understanding as me.”

  “You are the police,” she cried back without looking away from the TV. “Mum said I’m not to talk to the pigs.”

  “I’m not the police. I’m a baker. I own a café.”

  Mercedes-Mae turned and looked at Julia through the tiny slot in the door, her red eyebrows pinching curiously. Julia smiled once more, forgetting her hidden mouth. She wished she had brought one of her cakes to illustrate the fact. She was almost surprised she hadn’t thought of that, seeing as her cakes seem to have many uses when it came to discovering information.

  To her surprise, Mercedes-Mae put the white haired toddler on the floor and walked over to the door. The chain rattled and the thin door opened before Julia could get up to her feet. Mercedes-Mae walked back into the flat and resumed her seat in front of the large flat screen TV. Julia took the invitation and welcomed herself in, closing the door behind her.

  The flat smelled of stale cigarettes and spilt beer. Julia tried not to be too judgemental of the girl’s home, which she seemed comfortable in, but she couldn’t help but feel like she wanted to start cleaning.

  “Can I sit down?” Julia asked.

  “Free country.”

  Julia took that as a yes and sat next to the girl. The toddler, who she realised was a boy, looked up at her as he crammed the corner of the remote control into his mouth. He frowned a little, wary of the stranger in his house.

  “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” Julia asked politely over the racket of the TV. “To ask about the wreath?”

  “I’m not telling you anything,” the girl said. “I got fifty quid out of it.”

  “A man has died.”

  “I guessed,” she said, arching a brow. “That’s what wreaths are for, ain’t they?”

  “A man died after the wreath was delivered. Murdered. The wreath appeared to be a warning.”

  Mercedes-Mae turned to Julia, her eyes distrusting. Julia wasn’t sure if she seemed truthful to the girl, even though she had nothing to gain from lying to her. She guessed the girl wasn’t trusting of many people.

  “Why aren’t you at school?” Julia asked, deciding to take a different approach.

  “Didn’t wanna go.”

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t like it.”

  “Doesn’t your mother mind?”

  Mercedes-Mae shrugged, letting Julia know that her mother didn’t care either way. Her heart twitched, but she tried to stay as detached as she could. She reminded herself why she was there and shifted in her seat.

  “Don’t your friends miss you?”

  “Don’t got any,” she said bluntly. “Leo, get off that!”

  She snatched the remote control from the baby on the floor, who automatically started howling at the top of his lungs. Instead of comforting her brother, the girl just cranked the TV volume up even more, to the point where Julia could feel the vibrations rattling through the couch and into her body. For a moment, she just sat and observed the situation, but she couldn’t just sit there and watch the poor baby cry. Reaching out, she scooped him up and sat him on her knee. He immediately stopped crying and stared at her with his bright blue eyes.

  “Hello, Leo,” she whispered. “Are you going to be a good boy?”

  “He can’t understand you,” Mercedes-Mae snapped. “He’s a baby.”

  Julia bit her tongue through a smile, wondering how a thirteen-year-old girl could already be so jaded. At her age, Julia had lived a year without her mother, and even she had been more opportunistic and hopeful about life.

  “The wreath,” Julia continued. “Are you going to tell me who paid you to order it?”

  “Some guy,” she said casually, her eyes glued to the TV. “I dunno who he was. Came ‘round to the estate, gave me the note and fifty quid, and told me where to drop it off. Easy. Got myself these new kicks.”

  She lifted her feet up, and Julia realised her ‘new kicks’ were a pair of brand new pink and yellow trainers, from a brand she recognised on the high street as being from the expensive side. She wondered if the girl’s mother even questioned how she had obtained the new shoes, or if she had even noticed.

  “What did the man look like?” Julia asked, feeling like she was on the edge of a discovery.

  “How am I supposed to know, lady?” she cried, turning the TV up even more as she squinted at the screen. “Had a funny ear.”

  “Funny ear?” Julia asked, her heart fluttering. “And tattoos?”

  “So you already know him?” she asked suspiciously, suddenly turning the TV off. “Is this a trap? Are you the police? I’m calling my brother.”

  “It’s not a trap,” Julia said, trying to contain her nerves behind a smile. “Thank you. You’ve told me everything I need to know.”

  Julia kissed Leo on the top of his soft, white hair before passing him over to Mercedes-Mae, who reluctantly took him, before dumping him on the floor again. Julia showed herself out, immediately hearing the chain being locked the second she closed the door behind her.

  Feeling like a bundle of nervous energy, Julia forgot her earlier fear and pulled her phone out of her handbag and called for a taxi. She waited by the park, scanning the faces of the young boys as they all stared suspiciously at her, some of them throwing insults that landed on deaf ears. At that moment, Julia could take all of the insults in the world because she felt like she had finally made a breakthrough, and that was all that mattered. She searched for Billy’s face in the crowd, but she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t see him. She suspected he would be at the B&B, which was where Julia told the taxi driver to take her.

  When the taxi pulled up outside the B&B, she paid the driver and jumped out. She unhooked the gate and ran down the garden path, only stopping when her hand hovered over the chain doorbell. She took a step back and glanced back at the police station, remembering that it was her habit of running into situations before informing the police that had gotten Barker into the exact situation he was in. Just imagining him in the station, tugging at his collar as he tried to explain why he had let a civilian dictate a murder investigation was enough to make her think twice. She doubled back down the garden path, turning once more to the B&B before opening the gate again.

  A shiver of panic rattled down her spine when she saw Billy standing in the living room window, his phone to his ear and his eyes trained on her in the shadow of his cap. She began to shake and fear tore through her insides when she noticed Jeffrey standing behind him, his hand resting on Billy’s shoulder.

  It took all of Julia’s energy to turn and unclip the gate. Across the road, she spotted Evelyn climbing off the bus with hands full of shopping bags. Evelyn smiled at her, but Julia couldn’t return it. Feeling pal
e and sick, she dropped her head and headed straight to the police station to tell them what she now knew.

  Chapter 11

  Julia could remember precise moments in her life when she had felt like her body wasn't her own. The first time she remembered that happening was when she was a twelve-year-old girl, walking through the school corridors after being told her mother’s cancer had won. Another time was when she had walked through the streets of London, clutching all of her possessions in four black bags after her husband had changed the locks and left her a note informing her that their marriage was over. As Julia walked towards the desk in Peridale’s police station, she knew she was having one of those moments.

  “Can I help you, love?” asked the kindly desk sergeant. “You look as white as a ghost.”

  Julia heard the words, but all she could do was stare. She could still feel Billy and Jeffrey’s eyes trained on her through the walls.

  “Barker,” was all she could say.

  As though fate was shining down on her at that moment, Barker walked through a door, tugging off his tie. He looked as beaten down as Julia felt. When their eyes met, she felt her mind return to her body.

  “They haven’t come to a decision,” Barker said with a defeated smile. “They’re going to review everything I told them and get back to me. You should have heard the way they were talking to me. It was like I was a criminal, and the new Chief Inspector is a total -,”

  “I know who sent the wreath,” Julia blurted out. “I went to Fern Moore and spoke to the girl Harriet told us about, Billy’s sister.”

  “You went without me?”

  “That doesn't matter,” Julia said, waving a hand dismissively. “I didn’t need you charging in doing your Detective Inspector routine, no offence.”

  The door opened behind Barker, and a group of uniformed officers walked through, laughing at a joke one of them had just told. Barker grabbed Julia and pulled her to the side and out of earshot.

  “Well?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Who was it?”