Pumpkins are Murder (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 8)

by Kathy Cranston

  “I know,” Amy said. “I should give him my address right now. Then he’s got no reason to get suspicious when I don’t question how he knows the address.”

  “That’s perfect!”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to concoct the perfect responses to men's messages. Who knew that would make me the perfect target for a murderer? I’m definitely going to read The Rules before I even think about dating again!”

  Jessie laughed. “Don’t be crazy. There’s just no good way of meeting people in a small town like this where the conventional apps don’t work. I’ve had an idea—”

  “Jessie,” the chief said sternly. “Can you focus, please? We’re in the middle of a situation. It’s not the time to be coming up with new business ideas. Now. I think the time is almost upon us. I’m going to get in position. You ladies remember what to do?”

  Both nodded.

  “In that case, good luck. I’ve got your back, Amy. Keep that in mind but don’t look too comfortable. You’re supposed to be having second thoughts.”

  “Got it.”

  They didn’t have to wait for very long. There was a bang on the door twenty minutes later. Jessie clapped Amy on the shoulder and the other woman left the kitchen, pulling the door behind her but not closing it fully.

  Amy opened the door and Bobby immediately pushed past her and barged inside.

  “What are you talking about? Why would you tell anyone about that day?”

  Amy shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been weighing on my mind. I’m not a liar.”

  “Who asked you to lie?”

  “You did. Remember? I know it’s for a good reason but if your ex-wife’s attorney comes to me, what do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to tell her what we agreed. That I was with you the whole afternoon. I don’t see why that’s so hard. You want us to have a future, yes?”

  She nodded.

  “How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t do this one small thing for me?”

  “It’s lying, Alex.”

  “So? There are different categories of lies. People lie for their loved ones all the time.”

  “I don’t.”

  His eyes blazed with anger. “Well, you’d better try. This is important. If my ex-wife finds out about us she’ll go after every penny I’ve got.”

  Amy turned and shook her head. “I’m not sure I can. I’m sorry. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to build a relationship on a lie.”

  “What?! But you’re the one putting my money at risk!”

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a sad shrug. “Maybe you could talk to her.”

  His nostrils flared and time seemed to stand still as he lunged for her. Jessie wasn’t supposed to leave the kitchen but she forgot her role: Amy’s safety was vastly more important.

  Chief Daly burst through the bedroom doorway and had placed himself between Amy and Bobby before he even reached her. Bobby’s momentum propelled him forward into the chief, who wasn’t even knocked off balance by the impact.

  “Down on the ground! Put your hands where I can see them,” he roared, training his weapon on the younger man.

  Bobby complied, but not without sneering. “Well played. This doesn’t prove a thing. It’s a lover’s tiff, that’s all.”

  “Maybe so. But it’s also an attempted assault.” He nodded to Officer Kendall who had just burst in through the door in response to the chief’s shouting. “Cuff him, Officer. And be sure to read him his rights. I’ve got to go call Judge Carter to get a warrant for an assault case that’s just come in.”

  28

  Bobby Holmes was far less smug and evasive now that his home and phone records had been searched. At first it had seemed to Chief Daly that he actually had nothing to hide, but then they kept digging.

  There had been no record of a dispute between Bobby and Albie in Albie’s records, but that was because they had gained access to only those records from his time in Springdale.

  Even if they had thought to get records from Albie’s previous employer, they wouldn’t have turned anything up on a spat between him and Bobby.

  Stacey Holmes, on the other hand—or Stacey Sutherland as she was known back then—had had a bitter spat with the bank manager, whom she blamed for the breakdown of her marriage and the failure of her cosmetics company.

  “We’ve linked your cellphone to the emails to Jeff.”

  Bobby shrugged.

  “We know everything. You lured him out there and you kept working on Tony Young until you were sure he intended to meet Albie. Your plan was to get to Albie before he made it to Tony’s store. If that man—that man who called you a friend—saw you, you planned to kill him too.”

  Bobby shrugged. “Collateral damage. Parker was a bad man. He ruined my sister’s life. She used to be happy. Now she’s miserable, working in some dumb job for minimum wage.”

  “So? A lot of people work for minimum wage. It doesn’t make them murderous.”

  “It should,” Bobby said mutinously.

  “When did you decide to do it? What happened between your sister and Albie was a long time ago. Have you been planning it all this time?”

  Bobby rolled his eyes. “You think I’d waste years planning something like this? Please. I’m a faster operator than that.”

  “So fast,” Chief Daly said, with an equal measure of scorn. “Too bad. That’s going to make it a lot harder to kill time behind bars.”

  “You haven’t proved a thing yet.”

  “That’s true,” Chief Daly said, pleasantly. “But we have a lot of evidence linking you to the crime. You thought you were clever manipulating the citizens of this town, but you failed to account for people’s goodness. Nobody’s going to lie for you and let you get away with murder.

  “Cassie sent you a message to say she’d been approved for a stall at the parade. She suggested pushing your meeting forward by an hour. That was too late for you, so you got back on Tinder and found another woman. You were so arrogant that you thought you could read these people and manipulate them into doing what you wanted them to do.

  “But there are a few things I don’t understand. Why the pumpkin? Why bother with that? And the man in black. Was he your associate? If so, why did your sister tell Jessie about him?”

  Bobby shook his head. “Do you seriously think I’m going to incriminate myself?”

  His sister was far more forthcoming. Then again, she had a lot more to lose. As it was, she was facing accessory charges, but the chief promised her a reduced sentence if she cooperated.

  They were all shocked when they discovered the extent of her involvement in the plan. She had lived in Springdale for three years and they all liked her. Jessie had trusted her.

  As it turned out, she hadn’t moved to Springdale with the intention of getting revenge on the man she believed had ruined her life. She hadn’t even known he was going to transfer there.

  But he did. That filled her with rage, but it still didn’t drive her to murder. After all, she wouldn’t dream of doing something that would lead to her spending the rest of her life behind bars.

  Everything changed when she heard about Jeff Morton’s argument with Albie Parker. She had suggested revenge to her brother that evening over a few glasses of wine. She hadn’t been certain she wanted to do it: after all, how could they be sure they’d get away with it?

  Bobby had taken the idea of revenge and gone into overdrive. A theater major who was bored and idle after losing his part in a small traveling show, he had decided the parade would be the perfect backdrop. It didn’t take long for him to work on all of her objections and get her to agree that the plan was foolproof.

  What if they both had alibis? That would point the blame away from them. Not only that, but they could make it seem as if there was a clear suspect while using other people to get Albie where they wanted him so they wouldn’t be linked to the crime in any way.

  It was extraordinary given that he had planned it all in le
ss than a week. He had found out all he could about the Pumpkin Parade and the order of the floats. He had hired an actor friend to skulk around town dressed in black. Stacey had told him all about Jessie and her amateur sleuthing, so Bobby had arranged for his friend to hurry past her float looking as suspicious as possible.

  The pumpkin was intended to further implicate Jeff. Stacey rolled her eyes when she described this bit. It was clear that she didn’t care for her brother’s dramatic flair. Bobby had gotten the idea after visiting the little store at Jeff’s home to pick up something he could plant on Albie Parker’s body.

  Stacey, the more practical of the siblings, had pointed out that a pumpkin wouldn’t make a very effective murder weapon. It had been her idea to freeze it. She had even used the blast chiller in Lindemann’s, much to Jessie’s horror.

  The most shocking part of Stacey’s statement, though, was her admission that she had been thinking about getting revenge on Albie Parker long before Jeff Morton’s public argument with the bank manager. She had nurtured a friendship with Jessie with the intention that Jessie would be a useful source of information if she ever decided to act.

  “I didn’t tell her anything confidential,” Jessie whispered when the chief came to see her in the observation room with a grim expression on his face.

  “I know that. That’s not why I came out.”

  “Why then?”

  “Became,” he said, taking the seat next to her in the narrow room. “I imagine you’ve been badly hurt by what she’s said. I want you to know that I don’t believe any of this was your fault.”

  “I told you about the man in black, didn’t I?”

  “So? You saw him with your own eyes.”

  “Only because they planted him there for me to see.”

  “What were you supposed to think? Jessie, any of us would have done the same. They were very good at reinforcing what you saw.”

  “Still,” she whispered. “I can’t help but feel manipulated. She was only my friend because she heard about my involvement in other cases and she figured she could use me to pass false information on to you. I left you vulnerable.”

  He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her. “No, you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. She hoped you might, but you didn’t.”

  “Isn’t that enough? Chief, it may be my fault that that man was killed.”

  “Jessie, stop.” He wasn’t smiling now. “That’s a terrible thing to think. It’s not true. Listen to me. It was you who suspected them in the first place. You came to me and said you thought it might have something to do with Stacey’s brother. It was all down to you. In fact, if it hadn’t been for you, we might have sent an innocent man to trial. Think about that, please.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know that, but you’re just being kind. We would never have found the real killer if it hadn’t been for Cassie.”

  “The important thing is we’ve found him. Now, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to finish up here, but that’s no reason for you to stick around. Will you please get out of here and go relax?”

  29

  Jessie was still busy, of course, but with the case over she had a little more time on her hands. Going to work at Lindemann’s was more of a chore now: every time she walked into that half-gutted function area, she was reminded of how a woman with very bad intentions had manipulated her. She didn’t speak about it to anyone because her friends all insisted that it didn’t matter because she had solved the case. That didn’t stop Jessie from feeling guilty and weak. How could she call herself a good judge of character when she had judged Stacey all wrong?

  Stacey made no attempt to contact Jessie. There was no phone call; no visit to explain; nothing. The only conclusion Jessie could draw was that Stacey had seen her as an easy mark with a convenient link to the Springdale PD.

  After trying and failing to turn off the annoying voice in her head, Jessie decided she needed to take a break from Lindemann’s until she’d had a few weeks to clear her head. She was just walking out the door and heading for the stairs to the staff room when she bumped into Aunt Bee, Mel and Julia.

  “What are you guys doing here? The restaurant doesn’t open until twelve.”

  “We’re not here for the food,” Bee said sharply.

  “What are you here for?”

  Bee turned and faced the other two, but not before Jessie could see the way she was rolling her eyes. “Do you see what I mean?”

  The others looked sheepish.

  “What’s going on, Aunt Bee?” Jessie asked, pulling off her work gloves and wiping her hands on her dusty pants.

  “This.” Bee looked around and with a wave of her hand made it quite clear she was referring to Lindemann’s as a whole.

  Jessie shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “Come on, Jessie,” Mel said, taking her by the arm and leading her toward the door. “We’re kidnapping you. Enough is enough.”

  They were sitting around the kitchen table in the gorgeous home Julia shared with Chad, who seemed to have been dispatched to the other side of the house on some pretext.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is about? You’re all so dramatic. I was actually about to go home before you kidnapped me, as you put it.”

  “I don’t believe a word of it.”

  “Aunt Bee!” Mel exclaimed. “I thought we were going to be civil about this.”

  “About what?” Jessie asked. “Please just tell me. Between the case and the café and Lindemann’s, I’m exhausted.”

  “That’s—”

  Mel cut their aunt off. “Jessie, we’re worried about you. I know you don’t want to let down the staff at Lindemann’s, but you’re running yourself into the ground with these renovations. You’re a café owner who used to work at a desk job in insurance. You’re no more suited to heavy construction work than I am.”

  “It clears my head sometimes.”

  “Sweetie, look at your hands. They’re covered in callouses. You’ve been coughing from the dust and don’t think we haven’t noticed that limp. Are you going to lie and say it’s not from the exertion of knocking down walls?”

  Jessie shrugged. She had done her best to hide her limp—she had pulled a calf muscle one time when she was swinging the sledgehammer to take out a chunk of drywall. “It’s the only way I can afford it. There’s no way I can do the fit out myself, but if I save money on the demolition of the existing—”

  “Rubbish!”

  “Aunt Bee,” Mel said, her voice full of warning. “We talked about this. We agreed how to handle it.”

  Jessie stared at her in astonishment. “What do you mean you talked about this? You talked about how to handle me?”

  Aunt Bee snorted. “Good work, Melanie. Now, why would you say a thing like that in front of her?”

  “Will both of you just shut up and listen for a moment?!” Mel glared at them, not speaking again until they had fallen silent. “Right, Jessie. You’ve been working far too much lately. It’s got to stop. We’ve come up with a plan.”

  “Is it a plan to give me twice as many hours in a day?”

  “Nice try, cousin, but lame jokes aren’t going to make me forget about it. I’m done watching you exhaust yourself like this. You’re not eating properly and you never have downtime anymore.”

  “What do you suggest I—”

  “Shhh. Just listen.” Mel looked around at the other two, who nodded gravely. “We know you’re not doing all this work on Lindemann’s because you want the money. We know it’s for the staff and for the wider Springdale community. So we have an idea.”

  Bee seemed to take that as her cue. “We do. Now I’ve spoken to Charles and Mike about this and they think it’s a great idea. What do you say we turn Lindemann’s into a community enterprise? We can all help out with the rebuild and set up a fundraiser to help with the costs. Think about it. If it’s a non-profit, that’ll encourage people to go back and try the place.
We can use the space for community events, offer kitchen apprenticeships to local youth, and so on.”

  Jessie stared at her, shaking her head.

  “Well. What do you say?”

  It was the first time she had ever seen her aunt look so nervous. Jessie swallowed. She had put so much time into the place but that was only a drop in the ocean compared to what she would need to do before the function area reopened. Not to mention the money she’d need to spend. And they were right; she wasn’t doing any of it for profit. It was the right thing to do. After all, she didn’t want the place falling into the hands of property developers who didn’t care about the town they all loved.

  “Jessie?”

  Jessie looked at each of them in turn, seeing the concern on their faces. She smiled. “That is a great idea. Do you really think it could work?”

  Mel nodded. “I’ve looked into it. We’ll need to get an attorney, but I think we can set it up as a charitable enterprise with its own board. That’s if you’re sure? I mean, you’ve said you don’t want the money and I believe you, but if you have any doubts at all—”

  “No,” Jessie said quickly. “No doubts at all. Did you know my plan was to have all of this drywall out two weeks ago? I’m still slogging away at it. If I never see that sledgehammer again it’ll be too soon.”

  “Great,” Julia said. “I think we can all agree that you’ve done far more than your fair share of the work. I’ll have Chad talk to his former teammates; see if we can get a work bee going. Those strong guys will make light work of it.”

  30

  Little did Julia know that her words gave Jessie an idea that helped her solve two problems that were weighing on her mind.

  The first was the renovation and how to pay for it. Now that they were looking at turning it into a town-owned venue, the fundraising opportunities available were far broader. After all, she wouldn’t have felt right fundraising when her name was on the titles.