Something Baked And Something Blue (Patty Cakes Bake Shop Cozy Mystery Series Book 3)

by Holly Plum

  “She's your ... Oh! Oh, I see it. She's your long lost aunt twice removed?” Crystal opened one eye and looked at Joy.

  “That's my mother," Joy answered. "Her name was Patty. She opened this shop. But thank you for trying.”

  “Hmm.” Crystal slouched in her chair and pouted at the portrait. “That's odd. You would think she'd at least want to talk to me about the cakes I'm trying.”

  "I'm not sure I understand." Joy did her best to smile politely.

  “My mother has passed on too," Crystal went on. "Though she never left me anything quite as magnificent as this shop. Just left me with Dad, who also passed away, leaving me with a step mother who is a real shrew. Pardon my language, but my step-mother would love it if I ordered this awful orange pistachio cake for the wedding. No offense.”

  “Try the chocolate, ma'am.” Sara Beth shoved the next plate under Crystal's nose before she could say anything else.

  “Well, look at that.” Crystal's full attention was suddenly on the cake. “Beautiful. Simply beautiful.” And beautiful it was. A slice of Joy's specialty – double dark chocolate. The cake was so dark that light couldn't escape from it. Crystal easily sunk her fork into the sample, the moist frosting melting in her mouth.

  "Thank the cosmos,” Crystal exclaimed. The sweetness of the frosting touched her tongue first, followed by the slightest hint of bitterness from the dark chocolate, rounded out by a pinch of Joy's secret spice blend – cinnamon, cardamom, vanilla and a pinch from the jar in the kitchen labeled Patty's Secret Spice. Even Joy had no idea what was in there, but it was included in every chocolate recipe and brought the flavors together like magic.

  "I'm glad you like it," Joy commented.

  “This is the one,” Crystal mumbled through a mouthful. “It's perfect.” She tapped her feet excitedly as she ate the entire piece.

  “So we have a winner?” Sara Beth asked, hopefully.

  “Have you made your decision?” Joy asked, skeptically.

  “I certainly have," Crystal answered. "I want chocolate. All chocolate. But I simply can't wait to taste that chocolate again until I'm married. Do you have a piece I can take home for my darling Lucas? He's going to die when he tastes this.”

  “Sorry,” Sara Beth chimed in. "The chocolate cake is our best seller. We're out at the moment."

  Crystal huffed, disappointed. “I suppose I could pick up something chocolatey on my way home. What's the name of that other bakery across town? The Sugar Room?”

  Joy took a sharp inhale at the mention of her dastardly competition, ready to launch into a tirade about underhanded marketing tactics and unethical baking tricks.

  “But our chocolate tart is truly to die for.” Sara Beth pushed past Joy and presented a tart to Crystal. “It's the same chocolate taste as the cake, and it's dairy-free. We made lots of our dairy-free desserts today because we knew you were coming. The Sugar Room doesn't make anything dairy-free.”

  The tart shined with perfectly tempered chocolate, the serene surface only broken where it was studded with delicate chocolate bark. The crust was golden brown, and Crystal swallowed in anticipation of cutting into it.

  “Yum.” Crystal sighed in adoration. Her eyes glazed over as though she were suddenly hypnotized. “It's so dark. One bite and you could just melt into nothingness.”

  Sara Beth caught Joy's eye behind Crystal's back and circled her finger around her ear, insinuating that Crystal was a little crazy. Joy couldn't help smirking. The closer she got to her wedding day, the more Crystal's mood could be turned on and off like a light switch.

  Suddenly the clanging of Crystal's jewelry echoed through the shop as she clapped her hands together and bounced joyously in her seat. “Lucas will love it. I'll take it!”

  “Fantastic.” Sara Beth joined in the rejoicing. “A sweetie for your sweetie.”

  “A little taste of our wedding for my groom to be,” Crystal said. "I love that idea."

  Sara Beth boxed up the tart while Joy took Crystal's down payment for the wedding cake. Still rattled by the mention of The Sugar Room, and happy to have finally secured a deposit, Joy gave Crystal the tart for free.

  Joy and Sara Beth stood shoulder to shoulder and bid farewell to the bride-to-be, watching Crystal load the tart into her bicycle basket.

  Joy mumbled, “Is the tart going to survive?”

  “Is the marriage going survive?” Sara Beth snorted.

  * * *

  Sara Beth was closing up the bake shop and stacking the chairs as the sunset painted the coastal town cupcake pink. Joy was recounting the perfectly balanced cash register for the fourth time when the bell above the front door chimed.

  “Hello,” a well-dressed man entered, dabbing sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

  “Hi there, sir. We're closing for the day, but I can pack you up something to-go.” Joy eyed the limited selection of baked goods.

  The man walked slowly to the counter, looking around the whole shop. He paused before spotting the glass case and moved over to inspect it.

  “This is your selection?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Joy frowned, unsure what to make of him. She was used to the pleasant conversation from most of her customers.

  “What's this?” the man motioned to something behind the glass.

  Sara Beth looked over his shoulder and replied cheerfully, “That's a mini pineapple cheesecake. It's one of my favorites.”

  “Oh?” The man looked at Sara Beth's winning smile and softened a little. “Do you have any chocolate tarts leftover?”

  “I'm afraid we sold the last one today. But the chocolate babka is-” Sara Beth was cut off.

  “Did you sell a chocolate tart to a …,” the man fished a hand into his pocket and retrieved his notepad. “… a Mr. Tony Florentine?”

  “Not that I recall," Joy answered. "All the tarts we sold to today were to locals. People I know personally. I don't know anyone named Tony.”

  “Are you the owner of this establishment miss …”

  “Joy Cooke.” Joy's heart began to race. "And yes, I own this shop. What can I do for you?" Joy balled her hands into lose fists, waiting for a bout of bad news. Surely this man was a health inspector who had been given a false tip by The Sugar Room. Joy was certain the owner, Maple McWayne, would stop at nothing to put her out of business.

  “I'm Detective Sugar, and I need to ask you a few questions." The man looked around again. "May I take a look at your kitchen?”

  The detective helped himself. He opened and shut drawers and cabinets, and he even sniffed multiple bags of flour. He asked questions about the bake shop's cleaning routines, chemicals kept on the property, and who else had access to the kitchen. Joy answered his questions shakily but truthfully, while Sara Beth stood in the doorway nervously sipping sweet tea. Detective Sugar's gaze landed on the large ceramic canister of Patty's Secret Spice.

  “What's this?” he picked up the canister and immediately shook it.

  Joy grabbed it from him and held it close to her chest. She had had just about enough. “What is this about, detective?”

  “Ma'am,” he sighed, getting out his handkerchief and wiping his hands clean. “I'm sorry for my intrusion, but this is rather a difficult situation. I'm investigating a possible homicide. A man has died after eating a single slice of a chocolate tart from this establishment.”

  Sara Beth gasped, “Crystal? Please, don't say it was a woman named Crystal Stone.”

  “No," the detective responded. " I said a man has died.”

  Sara Beth gasped, “Lucas? Please don't say it was a man named Lucas.”

  “It was a man named Tony Florentine," he replied. "Are you certain neither of you know him?"

  “I'm sorry, but I don't,” Joy replied, still holding her mother's blend of spices close to her heart. “I can check the books, but I don't think it would help you much.”

  Joy looked to Sara Beth, who shook her head and shrugged.

  “I'd appreciate any re
cords you have, Joy.” Detective Sugar crossed his arms. “I'm not saying you're a prime suspect, but I'm afraid your chocolate tart is guilty. I'll need samples of every ingredient in the shop, and I'll need to take this.” He reached his hand out for Patty's secret blend of spices. "Don't worry. You'll get it back."

  "I guess our chocolate tart really is to die for," Sara Beth muttered.

  CHAPTER TWO

  In the wake of the shocking visit by Detective Sugar, Joy and Sara Beth stood in the shop and watched him leave through the front windows. Joy was completely stunned. She could have stared out at the window all night, but Sara Beth broke her meditation as she scampered around the shop finishing her closing duties and gathering her belongings.

  “Anyway, who on earth is Tony Florentine?” Sara Beth emptied out the last quart from a gallon of sweet tea into her cup.

  Joy couldn't tell if Sara Beth's hands were shaky from nerves, or because that gallon of iced tea had been full in the morning, and Sara Beth was the only one to touch it.

  “I've never heard the name," Joy answered. "But I suppose I don't know everyone in town even though my mind is a trap for names. You said so yourself.” Joy tapped on her temple twice before glancing at her watch. “Head on out, Sara Beth. I'll finish up.”

  Sara Beth looked to Joy with a slight frown. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

  “Me?" Joy pinched her cheeks. "I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Sara Beth was almost to the door when she turned back to smile to Joy. “Everything will be okay, Joy. Good things come to good people.”

  As Joy finished closing up the shop, she tried not to think about the chocolate tart and alleged manslaughter that could be on her hands. She also tried not to think about the possible rumors circulating around town, or the headline that could be splattered across the front of the newspaper tomorrow. The fact of the matter was that a man was dead. The victim could have been someone that Joy knew. With a different turn of fate, she could have killed someone else – a friend. Sara Beth's words echoed in her mind. Everything will be okay.

  She shook her head as if to dismiss the thought, and went about packing up for the night.

  Joy stepped out the back of the bakery and into the side street. The humidity felt like a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Joy inhaled the seaside air. It was the best kind of medicine. She considered driving home by the beach that night – she'd left her fishing poles in the back of her car and casting her rod out into the waves was the best stress relief she'd ever found. And her cat, Cheesecake, would surely love a fresh fish treat.

  Joy opened the trunk of her car to check on her equipment. An engine revved suddenly. She turned to look down the small, dark street and saw headlights driving towards her. The car sped up. Joy gasped, stunned by the blinding lights. The car came closer, acting as if it were about to slam into Joy. Joy felt as though she was stuck in quicksand. She couldn't move a muscle, or even breathe.

  The car swerved away, just missing Joy. Joy let out a sigh of relief and turned just in time to see the street light illuminating the side of the car, and the logo stuck to the door – the frosted cupcake illustration of The Sugar Room.

  * * *

  Joy didn't stop at the beach. She drove straight home, though it took her twice as long as it normally did. She drove slowly and carefully. She was so shaken up that she couldn't stop tapping her finger on the steering wheel or thinking about her near-death experience.

  How dare she? Joy asked herself. She was thinking about Maple McWayne, the owner, and manager of The Sugar Room. Maple certainly did not live up to her name, being the least sweet or delicate flavor of person that Joy had ever encountered. She had opened The Sugar Room after Patty Cakes Bake Shop had become popular, and had been using underhanded tactics to steal customers ever since.

  The latest swindle happened after Joy was featured in an article in the local newspaper highlighting the shop's various selections of buttercream. The next week, Maple held a contest at the local senior center where The Sugar Room served free cupcakes and asked the residents to raise their hands if they agreed that the frosting was the best in town. Neither Joy nor any other baker in town was invited to compete. Now, a huge banner hung above The Sugar Room, proclaiming that it served the #1 best frosting in town.

  Joy cursed at Maple. She wondered if Maple would really go so far as murder to shut down her business. Could she be desperate enough to kill somebody? Maybe the victim, Tony Florentine, wasn't supposed to die? Maybe Maple only intended to make Joy's customers ill, not kill them?

  Joy shook the thought out of her head and reached into her glove compartment for a treat to calm her nerves. Popping a ginger chew in her mouth, she let the taste of the heat, spice and sweetness take her mind off Maple for a moment.

  Joy's home was a beachside bungalow set amongst an overgrown tropical garden with a ceramic birdbath set on a small patch of grass. Fishing rods lined up beside the front door, and Joy entered her living room to find her cat Cheesecake sitting patiently on the sofa.

  “You'll never guess what happened today, Cheesecake.” Joy felt the day's weight start to lift off her chest as the chalk white cat jumped down and trotted over to her.

  Cheesecake purred, weaving his way around her legs. Joy leaned down and scratched his cheeks.

  “What a day I've had, my friend. What've you been doing all day, huh?” Joy sighed and plopped down onto the sofa, and grabbed the remote. Cheesecake jumped up into her lap, both of them lit by the television. “Sorry, no fresh fish for dinner. It'll have to be the usual tonight.”

  Joy channel surfed until she found an episode of Make It Or Bake It. It was one of her favorite cooking shows. Cheesecake immediately got up and left the room.

  “Hey, I thought you liked this show?” Joy called after him.

  Cheesecake scratched around in his litter box a little too loudly.

  After a not-so-satisfying dinner of leftover casserole, Joy tossed and turned in bed. Cheesecake came and purred beside her, trying to soothe Joy to sleep.

  “It's no good, Cheesecake,” Joy whispered to him in the dark. "I'm worried about the bake shop."

  Joy sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

  “A man died because of a tart I made," Joy admitted. Cheesecake's purring stopped. Joy turned to look at him.

  “It wasn't my fault. I didn't poison that chocolate tart. Of course, I didn't. Someone else did. Detective Sugar didn't give me any details.” Joy cleared her throat. “I don't know. Maybe the man who died was just allergic to one of the ingredients.”

  Cheesecake began purring again.

  “You're right," Joy continued. "Everything will be fine just like Sara Beth said.”

  Joy pulled the covers up to her chin. “Goodnight, Cheesecake. I love you, you little fuzz ball.”

  Joy finally got to sleep only to be woken in the middle of the night. She flicked her eyes open and sat up. She didn't know why she was awake at first, but suddenly she heard sounds coming from the kitchen. All the lights were out in the bungalow. It was almost pitch black except for a stream of moonlight barely illuminating her bedroom. The sounds stopped.

  Joy strained her ears to hear anything else.

  “Who's there?” she tried to make her voice sound deep and tough, but it came out as a croak.

  CLANG.

  Joy sat upright and held her breath. More unusual noises followed, and then the creak of the back door opening. Joy threw back the covers and ran down the hallway.

  Her back porch was dark and still. The air was still humid with a cool, beach breeze, and the sound of ocean waves rang through the night. Joy grabbed a flashlight from under the kitchen sink and lit up her back porch. Nothing moved.

  “Who's there?” Joy yelled out into the night.

  The only reply was a squawking bird, Joy's racing heartbeat, and the echo of waves hitting the nearby shore.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The
next day, Joy was sluggish and tired. As per usual, Cheesecake came into the bed to wake Joy as the sun came up. Joy was already wide awake after suffering a horrible nightmare that she was being drowned in a vat of molten chocolate.

  “Oh, Cheesecake." Joy stroked her cat's fur coat. "Please, tell me that yesterday never happened.” Cheesecake hardly blinked.

  Joy dragged herself to the bake shop, reminding herself that starting the day off on a positive note was key to having a better day than yesterday. Joy did her best to keep a friendly smile on her face. She told herself everything would be fine. Joy knew that she could rely on Sara Beth to bring some good cheer to her day. She'd always been able to chase the darkest clouds away with one of her stories about growing up in Mudtown, Mississippi.

  But as Joy perfected the display case for the day, she noticed that Sara Beth was strangely quiet. There were four regulars eating their morning pastries in the shop, and Sara Beth was usually a chatterbox with that sort of crowd.

  “How are you doing today, Sara Beth?” a man named Joel asked between bites of his usual – the largest Danish Joy had available. The flavor didn't matter.

  “I'm fine, Joel,” Sara Beth responded. "Thanks for asking."

  “Not very talkative today, are you?” a woman named Patsy pointed out.

  “I guess I'm just tired.” Sara Beth stepped away from behind the counter and wiped an empty table.

  “You must be low on sweet tea today,” Patsy insisted. “Why don't you pour yourself a glass, and sit down for chat like you usually do?”

  “I'll need another Danish to keep me going if you're not going to give me any sugar, Sara Beth.” Joel chuckled to himself.

  “Yes, sir,” Sara Beth answered cheerfully but robotically and made her way behind the counter again.

  “I see that I'm not the only one freaked out about what happened yesterday,” Joy whispered to Sara Beth.

  “I dreamt about chocolate tarts last night.” Sara Beth shrugged. "Normally, I'd welcome that sort of thing, but it was horrible."