It Cannoli Be Murder (Bread and Batter Cozy Mysteries Book 3)

by Karoline Barrett

  “Has your mother taken a good look at Rocco?” I walked to the window and gazed across the street. “I’m pretty sure that’s his car in front of the bookstore. It looks like the car he got into the other day when he left the bakery.”

  Serafina went to the window and glanced out. “You and Olivia are really catering his opening? Is that such a good idea?”

  “Only desserts, like I told you. What could happen?” I replied, wondering now if she was right to worry.

  Two people entered the shop, so I said a quick goodbye to her before she could answer my question, and went across the street to Bread and Batter.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  I greeted the customers milling about, then made my way to the back of the bakery. I gathered flour, baking powder, sugar, cold butter, a chunk of semi-sweet chocolate, and heavy whipping cream. I was making dough for English scones with chocolate chips, and I’d already finished a berry fruit tart with vanilla bean pastry cream and a lemon shortbread crust. Olivia had also made little sandwich triangles consisting of her homemade chicken salad, Calista Sugar Pink apples, and candied walnuts.

  “Everything will be so good,” said Olivia as she joined me. “I can’t wait to try it all.”

  “Me too. I hope our idea takes off.” Last month, Emily, Olivia and I had come up with Mystery Mondays. The day after tomorrow would be our first one. Olivia and I were bringing over our goodies to Barking Mad Books, where Emily was featuring a weekly mystery novel.

  “I heard on the news that Melanie Stewart was found dead. I was stunned. What on earth is going on?” asked Olivia.

  “I have no idea, but I don’t like it. And how coincidental that not one, but two women, twins at that, who are in town for a night of fun, wind up dead?”

  “I know, right? What does Sean think?”

  “I have no idea. He’s not involved directly. My cousin, Alex is. Remember I told you he moved here a while back? And Sean’s going in so many different directions, I’m not certain that he knows what to think about the murders or the cybergangs. Did you see Rocco’s car outside Barking Mad Books?” I asked her, eager to get away from the subject of an apparent homicide times two.

  “No,” she answered. “I’m slightly more anxious about a killer on the loose. What do you think it’s doing there?”

  “I don’t know. I was talking to Serafina,” I told her as I got the scones ready to freeze, “she said he’s married.”

  “That’s a relief.” Olivia leaned back against a counter.

  “You’re glad he’s married?”

  “Don’t you see? Emily would never go out with a married man.”

  I put the scones in plastic bags and put them in the freezer. I turned to Olivia. “You’re right. I’m going to go talk to her. Be right back.”

  “Do you think you should?” Olivia asked. “She might think you’re interfering where you don’t belong.”

  “I’m worried about her. Isn’t that what friends do when they’re worried?”

  “You’re right. It’s exactly what friends do. Hopefully, he’s just interested in the latest best-sellers.”

  “Would be nice, but I somehow doubt it.” I paused. “I know she’s a grown woman, but I don’t want to see her taken advantage of.”

  “I don’t, either. Go and see her. I hope she’s not in over her head.”

  “We won’t let that happen, Liv. Be right back.”

  ###

  I was glad Rocco’s car was gone when I stepped outside. I walked the few feet to Emily’s store and let myself in. Jane was at the cash register. “Hello there, Molly. How’s my girl?”

  Jane was my ex-husband’s grandmother. She and I had been involved in our town’s first murder. Thank goodness, that ordeal hadn’t scarred her in the long run. Now, she helps Emily out two or three times a week in the bookstore. “Hi, Jane. I’m fine, thanks. Where’s Emily?”

  Jane pointed up to the second-floor loft, where the children’s books and Emily’s office were.

  “Thanks!” I loved Emily’s bookstore. It was a perfect escape from the real world. I often had daydreams about combining Bread and Batter with her bookstore. I climbed the narrow, creaky, wooden stairs, went past the children’s and travel sections, and rounded the corner to her office. “Hi.” I rapped on her doorsill.

  She peered around her computer screen. “Hi, Molly. Ignore the mess. What’s up?”

  “Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  “Was Rocco just here?”

  She looked at me over the top of her glasses and blinked. “Are you turning into the neighborhood snoop?”

  I didn’t beat around the bush. “He’s married. And he kills people. You already know he’s in the mafia. You might want to take a step back.”

  Emily leaned back and crossed her long legs and regarded me coolly. “Is there a reason you’re telling me this?”

  “You seemed rather taken with each other. I just wanted to warn you. You’re one of my best friends. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She suddenly glared at me, obviously not appreciating my concern. “Who says I’m getting hurt? Yes, Rocco came by, not that I need to report all my visitors to you, but only to see my store. We had a nice talk, and I know he’s married. But not for long.”

  “Why not for long?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  Emily pushed her glasses back up on her nose. “He told me he and his wife are separated. That’s why he bought the winery, to get over his broken heart. He thinks his wife is having an affair. He’s devastated.”

  “I see.” I didn’t see at all. It sounded like a bunch of crappity crap, and I didn’t believe a word of it, but Olivia was right, Emily was a grown woman, and I had no business interfering. “Sorry. I guess I’m being a little weird.”

  She finally dialed back her angry glare. “Yeah, but that’s just you. I can deal with it. You have nothing to worry about. I know what you said about him being in the mafia, so I have no intention of becoming involved with him, no matter how handsome he is.” Her face relaxed. “Although, I can’t picture him in the mob. He’s so nice and his manners are impeccable. He’s got great taste in literature, too. I’m impressed. We had a very deep discussion about J.D. Salinger and the Brontë sisters.”

  “Did killing people come up?” I refrained from telling her that nothing prohibited mobsters from having good manners as well as good taste in literature. I got up.

  She made a face at me. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you have proof of any of this? No, you don’t. Even the police don’t. Honestly, Molly, don’t worry about me. I’m not an idiot.”

  “I know, I know. I’m the one acting like an idiot.” I could tell I was making things worse. “I’m sorry. I better get back to the bakery. I’m making scones for Mystery Monday.”

  She relaxed again. “You’re forgiven. I have to admit that I’d probably do the same if it was you. The scones sound fabulous. I’m going to get back to my ordering. I’ll see you and Liv on Monday if not before.”

  “Sounds good.” I made my way down to the first floor, waved goodbye to Jane who was helping a customer and went back to Bread and Batter.

  CHAPTER 9

  * * *

  “Well?” Olivia pounced on me the second I got back. “Did you get the scoop? Is she still talking to you?”

  “Yes, we’re still talking. She told me she’s not getting involved with him.”

  “Feel better?” she asked.

  “I do.” I didn’t, not entirely, but I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. A man like Rocco doesn’t give up when he sees something he likes and I feared that something, or someone, was Emily. “So much better that I’m going to start on some challah bread.”

  “Great idea. So, what do you and the detective have planned this weekend?” Olivia asked as I gathered my tools.

  Our bell jingled before I could reply. I looked up. “Hi, Monique.”

  “Hey, Monique. Your usual?” Olivia asked.<
br />
  Monique eyed me surreptitiously before responding. “Hi ladies. No doughnut today, just a chai latte with soy milk.”

  She leaned toward the counter. “Molly, I’m not one to spread gossip.”

  Was she kidding? Monique owned Polish Me Pretty, our town’s only nail salon. She’s the star of polish. And gossip. “I’ll bite. What gossip aren’t you spreading?”

  She leaned even closer and whispered. “I saw Sean this morning.” She rocked back and waited for my reaction.

  “Okay, that’s nice. He may be investigating crime. You know, since he’s a detective?”

  Her smirk dissolved. “The murders! I can’t think on that. What a tragedy! But back to Sean. He was talking to a tall, redheaded woman in the parking lot of the grocery store. I have no idea who she is.”

  I almost laughed at the concerned look on her face. “Monique, Sean can talk to anyone he wants. He’s a grown man. I trust him. He trusts me. I’m sure it was police business. Or, maybe someone he knows. Either way, I don’t care. If you’ll excuse me, I have baking to do.”

  “Wait!” Her hand shot out. “He handed her his business card,” she whispered in a way that suggested he handed her something much more interesting than a business card.

  My mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. I clutched at my chest. “A business card? No! If that isn’t suspicious behavior, I don’t know what is. And just how did you happen to see all this?” I was sure I’d be sorry I asked.

  Monique couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I’d just put my own groceries in the car and I saw him come out of the store, and this tall redheaded woman called out to him. Then he walked her to her car, they talked a while, then he gave her his card and she drove off. I’d be worried if I were you, Molly.”

  “That’s it?” I was a little disappointed. Usually, she did much better with details.

  Olivia handed the latte to her. “For heaven sakes, that doesn’t sound so suspicious, Monique. I think it’s mean to come in here and try to upset Molly. What are you thinking?”

  Monique fluttered her false eyelashes. “I’m not trying to upset her! And it may not be suspicious,” she added, turning back to me, “but I thought you should know. Just in case. It’s important to stay on top of these things.”

  I wasn’t sure what “things” she was referring to and wasn’t about to ask. “Thank you so much, Monique, I do appreciate your diligence.” I knew my semi-sarcastic tone would drift right over her head.

  “I took a picture.” She set her cup on the counter. “If I can find my phone.”

  What is it with people and taking pictures of every little thing with their phones? Did anyone talk on their phones anymore? I guess I was just as guilty. I was always taking pictures of the bakery and our creations and posting them on Bread and Batter’s social media accounts. And I had more than enough pictures of Sean and the dogs on my phone, so who was I to judge? But, I draw the line at taking pictures of strangers. “Don’t you have customers to worry about?”

  Luckily, three people came in, so Monique had no choice but to leave without replying or showing me her scandalous picture. I wasn’t heartbroken.

  The rest of the afternoon was quiet, so I was able to finish my challah bread and help Olivia with more cupcakes: chocolate with vanilla frosting (a town favorite), vanilla champagne, and Italian cookie, a personal favorite of mine.

  By the time I’d helped clean up Bread and Batter then shopped for dinner, it was six-thirty when I got to Dottie’s and picked up Beau and Noelle, who were moderately happy to see me. They hate leaving Dottie. They have no objections to being spoiled rotten by her. Not that Sean and I are much better at not spoiling them.

  I hugged Dottie at the front door. “Thank you again.”

  “No need. We just took a walk, so they should be all set for a while. Oh look! Here comes Sean. I wonder if the police are close to solving those horrible murders.”

  We both watched his truck pull up. Noelle and Beau bounded down the porch steps to greet him.

  “Dear, I have a chicken in the oven I need to tend to,” said Dottie as she waved to Sean. “Ed’s coming over tonight for a late supper. You enjoy your night.”

  “Thank you, you too,” I told her then went to join Beau and Noelle in greeting Sean.

  He slid out of his truck and after giving me a quick kiss, then knelt to say hi to the dogs. “How was your day, babe?” he asked as we walked to our apartments on the side of Dottie’s house.

  “Nothing spectacular. Normal bakery stuff.”

  “Your hair looks great.”

  I ran a hand through it. It felt soft as butter. “Thanks. You want to join me for dinner?”

  “Sure. But I’m beat, so it’s going to be an early night.”

  I unlocked the door on the side of Dottie’s house that led to my second-floor apartment, and the four of us traipsed up the narrow staircase. “Zucchini, and black bean and rice skillet. That okay with you?”

  “I’ll eat sawdust as long as I don’t have to cook it,” he responded then yawned into his palm.

  Sean was good about eating my vegetarian meals. He wasn’t about to give up meat, but at least he didn’t usually shun my meatless creations. I wish I could say I was as fair when he grilled steaks outside, but I’m afraid I can’t. We all have our lines in the sand, don’t we?

  “I’d offer to set the table,” he called from the couch, “but I don’t think I can get up. Hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “I can handle it. You stay put. You’ve had a long day. Dottie told me about Melanie Stewart’s murder. Isn’t it weird that they’re twins and they were both murdered at the same time, or around the same time?”

  “It doesn’t happen every day, I’m sure,” replied Sean. “Someone had a grudge against them both, it appears. And here I thought life would be so much more peaceful here than in New York City.”

  I set the table with fine china that had belonged to both my great-grandmothers. It drove Sean a little crazy that I liked unmatched china, but there was a certain shabby chic look to my table, which I was fond of. He’d stopped commenting on it long ago when he realized it wasn’t going to do any good.

  I poured us both a glass of chilled white wine. I had a few minutes before dinner would be ready. I joined him on the couch and handed him his glass. “So, is there anything new with our latest tragedies yet?”

  He took a sip of wine, put the glass on the table then laid his head back. His eyes fluttered closed for a second. “Something that turned up on the security footage from the hotel may prove interesting. I handed it over to Alex.

  That perked me up. “Really? Was it a woman in a pink and paisley scarf and big sunglasses wearing a housekeeping uniform?”

  Surprise creased his brow. Clearly, my acumen had overwhelmed him. “As a matter of fact, it was. Are you psychic now?”

  “No. But I told Alex about the woman who pushed past me when we arrived at Castle Shore. It had to be her on the security footage. What was she doing?”

  “I can’t comment. I’ve passed all my notes on to Alex. He’s in charge at the moment. I’m tied up with the FBI training we’re doing, our friendly neighborhood ransomware extortionists, and the arson investigation. I can’t walk away from any of them. Alex is smart and he’s got good instincts.”

  “You aren’t saying that just because he’s my cousin, are you?” I teased.

  “You know me better than that. He may be a new detective, but I’m glad he’s here. Our gain is Buffalo’s loss.”

  That was true. “Was it really just last night all this happened? It seems like eons ago.”

  “Yeah. The governor’s already breathing fire, and posturing about how he expects Senator Rydell’s killer behind bars immediately, if not sooner.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” I felt offended on Melanie’s behalf. “And what about her sister? Isn’t her case just as important? I mean how could he place one murder victim above another?”

  “To our police
department, she’s just as much a priority as Rachael.”

  I leaned over and kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re in Destiny. In more ways than one.”

  “Me too,” he replied and yawned again.

  I got up. “I’ll have dinner on the table in a little bit.”