Death by Scones

by Jennifer Fischetto

  "That simple?" I asked, suddenly hopeful.

  She shook then nodded her head. "Maybe. He said he could try to find the sender's IP address or who the e-mail account is registered to, but he'll need access to the original e-mail. And that means he'll either need to get onto Bernie's computer, or I'll have to pull up her e-mail account on his computer. For that I'll need her password."

  "Can't you just forward the e-mail to him?" I asked.

  She paused, then shook her head. "What if she sees that?"

  I assumed being up front and honest about it all was out of the question because that meant Amber would have to confess to snooping.

  Tara frowned. "How'd you get the e-mail last time?"

  "She always stays logged in to her e-mail account. I went on her computer in the study and saw it. I'd bring him home, but she's always there. She's not going to just let us hang in the study and not check in on us. Unless…" She narrowed her gaze at me.

  "Unless what?" I asked.

  "Unless I get some help to distract her from my favorite cousin."

  I scoffed. "I'm your only cousin."

  She smiled wide. "You want to track this e-mail, right?"

  Tara giggled. "That is part of the reason we're here."

  "Fine. I'll help," I said. "But first answer why you snoop in Aunt Bernie's e-mail." I was actually a little nervous to ask. I didn't need to know about any more family secrets.

  She shrugged. "Because I can. Besides, she snooped in my diary for years."

  I stared at my cousin, and my chest tightened. She was still so angry that her mother died and her father remarried. She couldn't see that Uncle Doug had married Aunt Bernie so she'd have a mother. He did this for Amber, not against her.

  I wished I could've been there for her more as she was growing up. I wished I could take away the rest of her pain now.

  Tara must've had similar thoughts, because she squeezed Amber's hand.

  Amber pulled away though. Not in a mean way. Color crept into her full cheeks, and it became obvious that she was embarrassed. I changed the subject.

  "Okay, so is this all we have?" I asked, no longer as hopeful.

  "If we can't figure out what really happened to Nathan, maybe we can brainstorm ways to drum up business," Tara said, interrupting my thoughts.

  "That's a good idea," I said. "How?"

  "We can offer more free items," Amber suggested.

  "And have another dead body on the premises? I don't think so," I said.

  She scoffed. "Unless you're giving 'dead bodies' away as a free gift, I don't think that will happen again."

  Tara laughed. "What about some type of contest or raffle? They could buy a dozen cupcakes and be automatically entered into a drawing."

  Oooh, I liked that idea. "What would they win though? I can't afford to buy someone a car."

  "No, but I could give them free dance lessons."

  I smiled. "You'd do that?"

  "Of course. Just as I expect free cookies if my business starts to dry up too."

  "Absolutely."

  I jotted down the option. "What do you think of having the customer make suggestions for new cupcake flavors?"

  Amber grimaced. "I like that, but what if it's something funky, like a hot dog and sauerkraut cupcake?"

  Tara and I laughed. "I don't think I'd want to eat that, but you know me. I like the idea of coming up with some crazy concoctions. Plus, it wouldn't have a permanent spot on the shelf, just a try-it-out thing, and people could vote on their favorites," I said.

  They both nodded in rhythm. "That's a good idea. It's fun, and they'd have to buy to participate," Tara said.

  "Great." I jotted that idea down too, and then we stared at one another in silence.

  Tara shrugged. "I don't have anything else."

  None of us did. But I had a place to start, and that was better than feeling useless.

  * * *

  Shortly after the girls left, Jared called and asked if I wanted to grab some ice cream. Heck yeah! I added black thigh-high boots to my ensemble and a swipe of my red lipstick and was ready to go. The best place to get ice cream in town was Shirley's, a small storefront on the pier. I ordered a cup of butter pecan, and he got the chocolate-vanilla swirl. We sat on a bench facing the water.

  I scooped a spoonful of my buttery nutty ice cream into my mouth and softly moaned. If Jared hadn't smirked, I may not have realized I was making sounds.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. "Is it good?"

  I chuckled. "Maybe."

  He held my gaze, and I wondered what I'd said to make him stare at my mouth for a moment. Tara's words about how I still pined for Jared entered my mind. Ever since my dinner with Will, I hadn't been able to get either of them out of my head. And not in a threesome kinda way. Everything I had said to Tara about Will was accurate. He was an awesome guy. But Tara's words kept playing on a loop in my mind. If he and I were meant to be, were some epic future couple, wouldn't the chemistry already be there? Wouldn't I want to confide in him? Wouldn't he be the first person I went to with matters? And if the answers should've been yes, then what was wrong with me? I really liked Will. He was the first guy in a long time who I liked.

  "So what's been going on with you lately?" Jared asked.

  "What do you mean?" He was the perfect guy friend. I could tell him anything. There was no weirdness between us. And that was the exact reason I wouldn't want to take a chance at a relationship with him and ruin it. Besides, he didn't see me that way.

  "I feel like you've been keeping things from me. You've never done that before. Do you have a secret? Are you and Will getting more serious?"

  I smiled because his theory was so far from the truth. "No, still taking it slow."

  He chuckled. "Why is that? I mean, if you like the guy, why not move at a normal pace?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure. This just feels right."

  "Or maybe you're not sure about him?" He stared into my eyes. "Romance isn't choosing something. It's magical and whimsical and done on the fly."

  Were he and Tara having secret conversations behind my back?

  I burst into laughter. "Is that how you see romance?"

  "Don't you?"

  "I guess. You just don't usually talk about whimsy and magic much."

  "So if this isn't about Will, what's been going on?"

  I ate more of my ice cream. I hadn't mentioned anything about the security footages or my suspicions about Nathan's death. It wasn't that I didn't want Jared to know. Now that he was back, he'd be the second person I'd tell. I just hadn't had the time, what with trying to find the proof that I wasn't to blame. Okay, and maybe a part of me was apprehensive. I didn't want him to think I was being foolish. But I also couldn't not tell him, and since we were sitting here…

  "The police call Nathan's death accidental. They assume I set out scones made with peanut oil, and therefore it's the bakery's fault."

  "You can't be blamed for someone's allergy," he said.

  I shook my head. "That's not what I'm saying. I looked over the security footage from the bakery that day, and I saw someone holding a tray of scones. We didn't put out any scones, and the autopsy report says that the undigested items in his stomach included peanut oil. This wasn't an accident, Jared. Someone purposely killed Nathan Dearborn."

  His eyes widened. "Who would do that?"

  "I don't know, but I have a few suspects in mind." I filled him in on all of the things I'd been doing with Tara and by myself—visiting Max, getting to know him and his family, the DVD at the bank.

  When I was done, he gave out a soft chuckle. "You make it sound like you're running your own investigation."

  I didn't respond.

  He frowned. "Riley, you can't do that. If someone deliberately set out to kill him, that's dangerous. You can get hurt."

  "What do you mean 'if'?" Did he not believe me?

  "I mean, what if someone brought them in for another reason, and he accidentally ate them?"
r />   I guessed that was possible. But I refused to believe the recluse just happened to come to the bakery and ate tainted scones. I mean, why would someone make them with peanut oil and bring them in if not for a reason like murder? Besides, anyone who knew how to bake knew that scones were made with butter. You had to specifically cut the butter into the flour until they were pea-sized crumbs. There was no place for oil.

  "Why didn't you ask me to help you too?" Jared asked.

  "You just got back to town. You have a new job, and you haven't seen your family in a while. I didn't want to bother you…"

  "Seriously? There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. You know that."

  I hoped he wasn't upset, but I knew Jared well enough to know that if he was, he wouldn't stay that way for long.

  Before I got the chance to tell him it wasn't personal, someone called his name.

  We both turned toward the voice.

  Standing only a few feet away was Erin, Jared's New York City girlfriend. I immediately recognized her light-auburn hair and tiny, thin, almost boy-like build. She didn't dress like a boy though. She wore a black miniskirt, matching heels, and a skintight royal-blue top with a neckline so low, it almost displayed her navel. She ran over and practically jumped into Jared's lap. "I'm so glad I found you. I called the pizzeria, and your mom said you were on the pier. Aren't you happy to see me?"

  She gave me no acknowledgment whatsoever. Not that I minded. It's not like we were friends. We'd only met once, a couple of years ago when Jared had come home for Christmas and brought her along. It was the first time she had met his family too. And here she was. Missed him that much? I didn't blame her. I'd missed him like crazy. But I wasn't his ex. What was she doing here?

  Jared looked as stunned as I felt. Or maybe he was thrilled to see her and trying not to get his hopes up. I still didn't know who ended their relationship. I assumed it was her though. Jared had a history in high school and college of getting dumped. It wasn't often, and it was usually because he picked party girls who didn't want anything long term.

  "For how long will you be here?" Jared asked.

  She giggled. "For good, silly. I just moved here."

  My stomach sank. Crap!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next morning, I arrived at the bakery barely awake. I'd tossed and turned all night. After Erin had arrived, she wouldn't leave. She'd brought up all their awesome memories from New York. She hadn't acknowledged me at all, and despite my sitting right there, she couldn't take a hint that she'd interrupted us. I'd endured twenty minutes of their "good ole times" before I decided to leave, but since Jared was my ride and Erin wanted to continue catching up, the three of us had walked to his car. Of course, she had walked to the pier from I don't know where, so he'd needed to give her a ride as well. As he pulled up in front of my house, she'd given me a cheery "bye," finally acknowledging me, and he'd apologized for cutting our night short. It was just as well. I had to get up at the crack of dawn anyway.

  But as they'd pulled off, I realized I was pissed. What did it mean now that Erin was back? Would they be reuniting? And what did it mean that the thought of them together made my blood simmer? Was Tara right? Did I have feelings for my best friend?

  Oh, whom was I kidding? Of course I did. I realized how I always noticed him, and how my stomach did that fluttery thing when he was near. It hadn't mattered over all these years though. He lived in New York, and I wasn't leaving Danger Cove, so I moved past it. Or so I thought. Now that he was back… Well, I wasn't sure what that meant, but I was with Will, and Erin was still a part of Jared's life, so it was better to continue to let it go.

  I pushed the thought away for now. I didn't need my mood affecting my work.

  The bell above the door jingled. I instantly put on a smile and deepened it when I realized it was Jared. What was he doing here on a Saturday morning? He should've been sleeping in.

  I glanced down at my gray houndstooth wiggle dress, with a bow at the scooped neckline. Last I checked, my hair was securely rolled back and fastened into a low updo. The only element out of place were my ultramodern, black Dansko clogs, which were heaven for my feet. I had a pair of white and black Mary Janes in the office, but there was no way I could stand on a two-inch heel all day. Oh well, no one could see my shoes behind the counter.

  Instead of Jared's usual cheerful expression though, he looked as tired and as grumpy as I felt.

  "Did you forget it's not a school day?" I asked with a chuckle.

  That's when I noticed Erin on his heels.

  You had to be kidding me. They were still together? That meant…she spent the night with him.

  "We're on our way to help his parents with their house. It needs painting." She wore the same clothes from last night.

  "Oh." It was all I could think to say that wouldn't be coated with a thick, sticky layer of disgust. There went my letting my feelings toward Jared go.

  I set about getting him his usual. He didn't say a word. I wanted to pull him aside and find out what was going on, but I didn't want to show my ill-placed irritation. What was wrong with me? I was acting jealous, just like Will had. I needed to get over myself. Jared and I were just friends. Besides, it was obvious he and Erin had reunited. Why did Jared seem so glum though?

  When I handed him his coffee, he took a sip and thanked me. Then he placed money on the counter and walked out. Just like that. No good-bye and without his ex-slash-current girlfriend.

  Erin chuckled as if Jared had said this amazing joke.

  I quirked an eyebrow, suddenly pleased that they were showing signs of not being blissful. Yes, I was aware I was happy my friend wasn't. I sucked. But just the same, I smiled brighter than I should have and asked, "Can I get you anything?"

  Her jaw clenched, and for a nanosecond she narrowed her eyes. But then she returned to her cheery, perky self and flipped her long light-auburn hair off her shoulders. "Are you kidding me? I don't eat this stuff."

  "Have a great day," I sang.

  She sashayed out of the bakery, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted right now was a conversation with her, even about my beloved cupcakes. As long as Jared was happy, I'd find a way to tolerate her. Somehow. Someday. Possibly.

  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Grams. Maybe I could finally catch her if I tried first thing in the morning.

  The line clicked. "Hello?"

  Oh my God, I was so excited she answered, I shouted, "Grams? Where are you?"

  "Riley, dear, is something wrong?" Her voice was groggy, as if I'd woken her.

  "You mean besides the dead man near the toilet?"

  She let out a sharp breath. "There's been another one? What's going on over there?"

  I giggled. "No, just the one. I've been worried about you. It's unlike you to not call me when there's trouble."

  "Riley, you are a very capable woman." She sounded more awake. "I wasn't worried because I know you can handle anything. Even an accident."

  The bakery was empty, but I lowered my voice anyway. "The police said he died of a peanut allergy."

  "Oh, that's awful."

  "In the bakery, Grams. Our reputation has been ruined. Business is drying up. Everyone thinks I set out peanut oiled scones in a nut-free bakery."

  "Are you exaggerating just a bit?" she asked. She knew my dramatic fits too well.

  "Maybe a smidgen, but business has been weirdly slow. I'm scared. And where are you?"

  I heard a door softly shut over the line. "I'm staying with my friend, Jules, in Seattle. Look, it's going to be okay. The bakery will be fine."

  The sound of water, like a shower, grew louder. "You are great. I have to go, honey. I'll talk to you soon. Love you." Then the line clicked.

  I stared at my phone. What was going on with her? This had to be more important than bathing.

  * * *

  Mrs. Hendrickson walked into the bakery as I poured fresh water into the decaf coffeemaker. "You're early," I said.

&nb
sp; She smiled. "I was just passing by on the way to the bank."

  I immediately thought of the new bank manager. Poor man. I hoped he wasn't still waiting for me to call.

  "How did your date with Will go?" Mrs. Hendrickson asked.

  Did this mean he hadn't told her what a failure it had been? "Fine. Thanks."

  There was no way I'd fill her in with the details. She was a nice woman, but when upset, she had a bite to her. I'd never forget the cookie incident.

  Will and I were around ten years old, and we'd visited the bakery after school. Grams had only recently opened the bakery, and I was so proud of it. Grams hadn't had a problem with us having a cookie as long as it was only one. Mrs. Hendrickson, however, had forbidden it. She'd said Will's parents would be upset. Will had been sad, so I'd told him I'd get us cookies and we could sneak them. He'd agreed.

  I'd swiped two chocolate chip cookies off the tray in the kitchen. I was sure Joe saw me, but he hadn't said a word. Will and I hid near the public bathrooms. He'd inhaled the thing so fast, I hadn't thought much that he was quiet. But then he'd gone red and started choking. I'd screamed for help, and Grams had performed the Heimlich on him. Turned out, he'd choked on a chocolate chunk. He had been fine, but the scolding we'd received from Mrs. Hendrickson had scared me for months. I no longer remembered it word for word, and it was just the one incident, but the memory occasionally popped into my mind and had me cautious of her mad side.

  "When are you going out again?" she asked.

  I bit the corner of my cheek. I wasn't comfortable discussing Will and me with her. "You'd have to ask Will. He usually makes the plans."

  She beamed at this information. "He's such the gentleman."

  After leaving the bakery that afternoon, I rode past Nathan's. It was becoming a habit. Max's car wasn't in the driveway, but I knocked anyway. I needed to learn if Max knew if Nathan had made any recent enemies, and I wanted a better understanding of Nathan's relationship with Mom. Max had said he'd never heard of her, but maybe while going through Nathan's things he'd discovered something. And I would be lying if I said they were the only reasons I was there. Visiting and hanging with Max had become comfortable. I knew not to let my guard down. There was still the possibility that he'd killed his uncle, but I didn't fully believe that. It didn't feel right.