Murder Train: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

by Stacey Alabaster

  With Garry gone, I started to make a plan, and a menu for the afternoon's in-train service.

  "Right, so we'll do pancakes, for one thing," I said, glancing around at the scant ingredients.

  "There aren't even any eggs, though," Pippa said.

  "Shoot." She was right. That was a big deal. Eggs would provide not only a binding agent, but also as a source of protein if we could serve them on the side of the dish. I knew our low blood sugar passengers would be grateful. It should keep them from resorting to cannibalism as well.

  "I know where we can get some eggs," I said to Pippa slowly.

  "Where?"

  "They kept chickens at the windmill."

  Pippa burst out laughing. "Well, that's not much help."

  "It will be, if you run back there while I prep the batter."

  "No way. That's insane. I'm not going back there on my own," Pippa said, picking up a rolling pin like it was a weapon.

  "Come on, take one for the team."

  "It will take me too long to even get there!" she exclaimed.

  "Not if you run," I said. It had taken us twenty minutes to walk, so I figured, if she went quickly enough, she could cut that time in half. "I can get everything else prepared and ready to go in the meantime. Then as soon as you return with the eggs, we can add them to the rest of the dish."

  "Oh my goodness. You are serious."

  The flour had mixed together with the powered milk and water to make a batter that wasn't entirely unpalatable, especially when I melted a cup of butter and mixed that into it for a creamier taste. I dipped my finger into it and tasted it. Fresh milk would have been preferable, but I hadn't heard any mooing at Ana's farm, only chickens clucking.

  But the sugar would sweeten it and hide the floury taste of the fake milk, and the eggs on the side would make a full, delicious meal. All in all, I was pretty pleased with my creation.

  I looked down at the batter and wondered what would happen if The Pastry Tree really bought out the bakery. Cheryl hadn't gone into much detail on the phone, but she had promised that, seeing as our aesthetics were so similar, she wanted to preserve the style and feel of the store as much as possible rather than simply rip everything out and take over.

  And she'd said that part of the deal could involve me staying on a manager, if that was something I wanted.

  But being manager wasn't the same as being owner. So I wasn't sure that was something I wanted at all.

  Would I be able to keep any of my recipes? Would I be able to innovate at all?

  I pushed the wooden spoon into the batter. Doubtful. I'd only be making corporate-approved recipes, unable to deviate because every pastry in every store across the country needed to taste the same.

  But what if I said no?

  What if I said no to the biggest baked goods franchise in the nation? Would they play fair and back off? Open up a store in a completely different town? Or would they use their clout to push me out anyway, buy a store front down the street and poach all my customers until I went out of business?

  Saying no could mean I ended up with no bakery at all.

  I was startled out of my own thoughts by one very annoying face.

  "What are you doing?" Dan asked, staring into the batter and looking very confused by it for some reason.

  I jumped and began stirring the batter again.

  "Saving you all from starvation," I said. "So you'd better act grateful."

  "I'm not sure you're supposed to do that," Dan said as I grabbed more butter to stir in. The mixture wasn't as creamy as I liked it yet. "Pancake batter should just be egg, flour, and milk."

  I dropped the spoon. Okay, this was a bridge too far now. It was one thing to constantly undermine my detective skills at every turn, but now he thought he could tell me how to bake?

  "Excuse me," I said. "I am a professional baker. I do this for a living. You can't tell me what I'm doing is right or wrong."

  Dan whistled in a show of being mock-impressed. "Well, okay then. Let's just hope you are better at making pancakes than you are at catching killers."

  "Why don't you go and sit down and wait for your meal?" I asked him.

  "Fine. Was only trying to help."

  Pippa, dirty and sweaty, finally came back through the doors.

  "What took you so long?" I asked. "People are starting to threaten me."

  "Are you kidding me? I just had to run through a field with a heavy basket of eggs. That's what took me so long."

  She sat the basket down on the counter so heavily it was a wonder they didn't all crack.

  Her business suit was ruined, covered in mud and dirt, and there was even a tear at the seams of the shirt. "I never thought to bring a change of clothes for a two-hour train ride," Pippa said, shaking her head. "Even if we do manage to make the meeting, what kind of impression are we going to make now?"

  "Well, I'm okay. I'm not covered in mud," I started to say

  She pointed at me. My black suit was covered in flour and powdered milk. Oh. I wasn't in any position to judge her. And neither of us were in any position to go to a business meeting.

  Our low-blood-sugar friend, the one with the piercing loud voice and blonde hair, approached the window of the restaurant and pouted.

  "How much longer?" she whined.

  I smiled at her. "About ten minutes. So don't go fainting on me just yet."

  "Aren't you going to eat any?" Pippa asked, alternating between shoving a pile of pancake, then a pile of egg, into her mouth as fast as she could.

  I shook my head. "I'm still stuffed from those cookies that Ana fed us."

  She shook her head. "I could go for seconds."

  "Well, there isn't any. You've already eaten us out of house and home...or train and home..." I stopped talking when I heard a familiar, but all too strange sound.

  I gasped. I didn't think I'd ever been so happy to hear the sound of sirens.

  "Is that...what I think it is?" I asked.

  Pippa looked so happy that she was about to cry. "Yes," she whispered, placing her fork down. "I think we're finally free from this steel trap, Rachael."

  Chapter 7

  I squeezed my way into the tiny bathroom to make sure I was presentable. Or at least, kind of presentable. Not just for the meeting in the city—though I still didn't like our chances of making that—but because I wanted to look presentable when I finally got the chance to talk to the cops and tell them everything I knew.

  Because I knew they were going to want to talk to me.

  But flour and powdered milk aren't very easy to get off with water; they just form a paste. I groaned when I saw the sticky mess I'd made on my jacket, cut my losses and took it off, throwing it on the back of a seat as I exited the bathroom and walked back into the second class carriage where the police interviews were taking place.

  Pippa stepped out and stopped me.

  "Oh, Rach. I'm not sure you're going to want to see this."

  "See what?" I asked, pushing past her.

  Pippa gulped. "Okay, I guess you're going to see it then. Don't say I didn't warn you..."

  Up ahead, holding the raptured attention of two uniformed police officers, was my number one nemesis.

  I felt about ready to burst. "Dan! What the heck is he is he doing, talking to the cops!"

  Pippa tried to grab my arm but I was already sprinting down the aisle. I stopped, running short on breath when I reached the end where Dan was in deep conversation with a female officer and a male officer.

  "Don't worry," Dan said in a very serious voice. "I quickly realized who the murderer was and chased him down myself when he escaped the train. Without any help..."

  What the—

  Dan wasn't finished bragging. "And I've been keeping note of suspicious activity since the unfortunate incident. I thought you officers might appreciate taking a look at this," he said, handing over his trusty notepad. "It's very thorough."

  "Actually," I said, butting in. "There were a few other incide
nts—which I took note of myself—that I think you might be interested in. Incidents that Dan doesn't know about."

  The officers, and Dan, all stared at me. "Who are you?" the female officer, a brunette named Officer Green, asked.

  "Rachael. Rachael Robinson."

  Officer Green crossed her arms. "Okay, miss, we're all waiting to hear what you have to say."

  Oh great. Now I had to come up with one of these 'incidents.' Were you allowed to lie to the police? Were there any serious laws against that kind of thing?

  Oh, great. I was going to have to use Pippa's 'incident.' "We saw our conductor, Garry, riffling through Eden's bag shortly after she died," I said. "He was stealing from Eden." I tried to make the information sound as meaningful—and thus incriminating—as I could.

  Ha. Finally, I had some info that Dan didn't. He just stared at me, dumbfounded.

  Then he spoke. "Hmm. Interesting. You saw Garry riffling through a bag." He opened his eyes wide in fake awe. Great. He was being sarcastic. Julian must have rubbed off on him. "And...did you follow him afterwards to see what he did with this item that he stole?" He used air quotes around the word 'stole.'

  I shook my head.

  "Hmm. And did you—crazy question, I know—ask Garry what he was doing with the item?"

  Again, I shook my head. "It was Pippa who saw him," I said, sounding defeated. "And no, I don't think she did."

  "Ah. So, it wasn't even you who saw this 'incident' take place?" Again with the air quotes.

  I sighed. "No."

  Dan was just staring at me smugly.

  "Julian has asthma," Dan said. "His inhaler was in Eden's bag. Seeing as he couldn't get it himself, being tied up and all, Garry had to grab it for him." He reached over and tapped the notepad that he had handed to officer green. "It's all documented in there."

  I was going to kill Pippa when I saw her.

  Oh, there she was, walking down the aisle.

  "Excuse me," I said in a low voice.

  "Don't go too far, Miss Robinson!" Officer Green called out. "We might need to chat with you later!"

  "Why are you in such a bad mood?" Pippa asked as I pushed past her.

  "Your little theory about Garry just made me look stupid in front of Dan. I mean, the police." I stopped. "I'm flustered. It made me look stupid, that's the point."

  "You want Dan to think you’re smart?" Pippa was trying desperately not to smile.

  "No. I just want to be smarter than him."

  We headed back to our car in third class. I just wanted to be out of sight of Dan and the police.

  The train was half-empty now that people were allowed to leave to stretch their legs outside, but I just sat down.

  "Dan was right!" The words didn't come out easily. I almost choked on them. "You should have asked Garry what he was doing. Or at least followed him. Then I wouldn't have made a fool of myself. I would have had some real info to go off."

  Pippa shrugged. "Let's follow him now then. No one's looking. Everyone's too busy running around the fields, looking for four leaf clovers. What else do we have to do right now?"

  I sighed and looked around. "He's on the first class carriage. How are we going to get there without passing Dan and the cops again?"

  Pippa had that sorted. We climbed off the train, jumping off at the same spot we had hours before when I'd thought Julian might be hiding under the train.

  Keeping low, we crept past second class, making sure that we weren't spotted by the police, or worse, Dan, before we climbed up again at the door of the first class carriage.

  Pippa gripped my arm suddenly. I thought she'd discovered something, but she'd only received a text message.

  "Finally!" she screamed. She must have assumed it was from The Pastry Tree head office, because she quickly followed it up with a disappointed, "Oh, it's only my husband updating me about our baby."

  "How is Lolly?"

  "Oh," Pippa said, fishing her phone back out of her pocket. She hadn't even read the text. "I suppose I should find out... She's fine. Okay, back to chasing this train conductor."

  It seemed like I wasn't the only person obsessed with being right. There were a lot of trapped egos on the train that day.

  "Keep super quiet from this point on," I whispered. "If—and it's a big if—Garry is doing something wrong, then we're going to have to catch him in the act."

  We tiptoed into the carriage and I cringed as I stepped over Eden's body, which was now covered by a sheet.

  "Where are Garry and Julian?" I whispered.

  "I suppose Julian is still being held in that little nook behind the cab?" Pippa whispered.

  The carriage was eerily quiet, though. Luckily, the plush carpeting absorbed the sound of our footsteps, so we got right up to the nook without being seen or heard.

  When we turned the corner, right into the nook, it was empty. "Where has Julian gone?" I asked, my heart beating fast to think of the killer loose again. I ran to the window and looked out at the police car on the side of the road, thinking he might already be in the back, under arrest.

  "Where is he?" I whispered frantically.

  Pippa grabbed my arm. "Can you hear that?"

  I shook my head. I was too worried about a killer reaching out and grabbing my arm at any moment.

  "Listen, there's voices talking. The sound's coming from the cab..."

  We crept forward until we were right against the door of the cab. "It's Garry's voice," I whispered. Now that I recognized it, I was never going to forget it.

  At least, he was one of the voices. The sound was muffled so we both pressed our ears against it to hear better.

  The second voice was unmistakably British.

  "Whoa, what the heck is Garry doing?" Pippa practically screamed. "He's hiding Julian from the cops now?"

  I pulled Pippa down so we wouldn't be spotted. "Don't yell again!" I whispered angrily.

  "Sorry. Just... What is he doing with Julian in there?" Pippa stood up. "I want to see for myself."

  "Pippa, don't!" I tried to drag her down but she was already up, and she was already peering through the crack in the door.

  "Oh, my goodness..." she gasped quietly.

  Okay, I had to see what she was looking at. I scrambled to my feet.

  Julian pulled a shiny item of jewelry from his pocket and glanced around furtively before he handed it to Garry, then whispered something in the conductor's ear. "This is just between you and me, you understand?"

  Garry gulped and nodded. "I'm sorry you got caught at the windmill. I tried to make sure the coast was clear before you got away..."

  Julian nodded like he understood. "Don't worry about it now. It's done."

  I pulled Pippa away from the door, afraid we'd be spotted.

  "Maybe Garry didn't kill Eden then?" Pippa whispered. "Maybe he just wanted to help his good friend Julian from getting caught...and get a cut of the profits as well."

  Chapter 8

  Just when we thought we'd tiptoed quietly enough down the aisle to reach the end of the carriage without getting sprung, I felt a hand grab mine and spin me around.

  "What are you two girls doing here?" a very British voice asked quietly.

  "Just, ah, looking for Conductor Garry," I said, straightening up. "Have you seen him?"

  "Bulldust," Julian said, nodding toward the door. "You were sneaking out of here."

  "No, just trying not to disturb you in case you were sleeping..."I tried to say.

  "Cut it out, Rachael. How much did you two hear when you were down there, snooping around the cab?"

  "Snooping? Cab? Nothing," I said innocently.

  I turned to leave, but Julian reached out and grabbed my wrist, hard this time. "What did you hear, Rachael? I'm not going to ask you again.”

  Suddenly, the door opened behind us and we all heard Officer Green's voice as clear as day. "Julian Connelly, you are under arrest for the murder of Eden Foulkes."

  Julian dropped my wrist before she cuffed both
of his behind his back. Then she, with the help of the male officer, pulled him off the train and dragged him to the waiting police car.

  I saw Julian roll his eyes as he was dragged across the field by a woman for the second time that day.

  Was this all a joke to him?

  I jumped when I heard Dan's voice in my ear. "You're welcome."

  I had my hand up against my chest. "For crying out loud...for what?" I asked, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal.

  "Um, I am the one who gave the officers all the info they needed to make the arrest. And I told them where Julian was, just in the nick of time too, by the looks of it," Dan said. "How is your wrist there?"

  I shook it. "It's fine," I said. "Thanks," I mumbled.

  "As I said, you're more than welcome."

  "Well, I suppose that's that then," I said, pushing past him. "We don't all need to be stuck on this train together any longer. We'll never even have to see each other again."

  "Rachael!" Pippa screamed with bubbly enthusiasm just as I was about to get out of first class. "Guess what! Guess what! Guess what!" She was jumping up and down like an over-excited child. I supposed her nausea from earlier had cleared up then.

  "What is it?"

  "I got through to the head offices of The Pastry Tree!" she shouted. "They completely understand. They've let us reschedule our meeting for later this evening."

  I nodded. "That's good news then," I said, sounding a little unconvincing.

  It was already four o’clock.

  "We'll be pushing to make it before five-thirty," Pippa said. "But I'm confident we'll be out of here soon enough, now that Julian has been arrested!"

  Dan smiled smugly. "Like I said, you're…"

  "I'm not thanking you again."

  Once the ambulance had arrived to take Eden's body, we were all convinced the train was about to start its engines again.

  But those in charge had very different ideas. By the time we got back to third class, everyone was jumping with anticipation that soon we would be on our way.

  "Please, I gotta be in the city by five," the low-blood-sugar blonde pleaded with the police officers. "We're going soon, right?" She turned to Garry.