by Fiona Grace
Ali’s shoulders slumped. She wanted to explain to the detective that what she’d just told her was not an “interpretation” of the events, it was the facts of them. But she held her tongue, because right now it was futile. Detective Elton had her investigative goggles on and didn’t believe a word Ali was saying. The less she said, the better.
The female detective turned to the rest of the room.
“We’re going to have to close the bakery,” she announced. “Callihan, call in the CSI.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Chest tight with emotion, Ali placed her keys in Detective Elton’s hand. “How long till I can open again?” she asked.
“Just as soon as we’ve eliminated it from the case, Miss Sweet,” Detective Elton replied, simply.
Ali nodded. She already knew the answer, but felt compelled to ask anyway. “Please be gentle with her,” she added.
“Her?” Detective Elton queried.
“My bakery.”
Detective Elton failed to hide her expression of disdain at Ali’s anthropomorphization of her bakery.
“Of course,” she said, thinly. “We’ll call you when we’re done.”
With Piper at her side, Ali headed out of the bakery and into the incongruously sunny street.
From the sandwich board, Mr. Macaron smiled at her, with his joyful, chubby-cheeked grin. Only now his expression seemed to be mocking her for how disastrous the macaron launch had really been. The salami statue seemed to be equally disdainful. Ali shuddered under their judgmental glares.
Just then, a handful of people sitting in the pizzeria spotted Ali emerging from the bakery. They stood and came toward her.
So not all of the crowd had dispersed earlier when the detectives had instructed them to, Ali realized. For a brief second, she allowed herself to entertain the theory that they were sticking around because they still wanted to buy her macarons.
“Excuse me, but I’ve been here for over an hour waiting for my discount,” a woman said.
Discount? Ali thought. Then she spotted Marco watching her through the windows of his pizzeria. On the other side, Emilio was watching her out the window too, only he ducked back into the shadows out of sight when he realized she’d spotted him.
Ali huffed, recalling how the twins had upped one another with their reimbursement promises to her waiting customers. And now, by the looks of things, they weren’t prepared to follow through.
“I’m sorry, there was an … unforeseen situation,” Ali said, picking her words carefully. “The macarons are off.”
“But I bought a pizza!” a man exclaimed. “And I can only get my ten percent back if I get a receipt showing I bought macarons from you!”
Ali shook her head. “I’m sorry. I would print a receipt if I could, but I’m not allowed inside right now.”
Behind her, cops were affixing crime scene tape to the door and closing all the blinds. Her poor bakery…
“Same here!” an angry woman added, breaking through Ali’s thoughts.
Ali couldn’t help but feel exasperated. After everything that had just happened, they were still more concerned about a couple of dollars. A young man had just lost his life. His future, his dreams, his hopes and aspirations had been snatched from him in one moment. But all that mattered to these people was a ten percent reimbursement?
“Perhaps if you give me your bank details, I can transfer the reimbursement once I’m allowed back inside my store?” Ali suggested.
“Huh!” the first man huffed. “I’ll see it when I believe it.”
“Just you wait until my Yelp followers hear about this,” the woman added, haughtily. “I have fifty, you know.”
Ali sighed as the angry stragglers marched away, muttering their fury to one another. This was not how she’d expected today to turn out.
“Ali, I’m going to go home,” came Piper’s muffled voice from behind.
Ali turned to her. The girl’s eyes were red and puffy. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
Piper nodded. “The paramedic gave me a clean bill of health,” she mumbled.
That wasn’t what Ali had meant. But she didn’t get a chance to ask Piper if she was going to be okay mentally, because the girl hurried off along the boardwalk in the opposite direction.
Ali was left alone.
She looked down at Mr. Macaron again, her stomach sinking to her toes. Her macaron launch had turned into a disaster of epic proportions. While she’d assumed Brandon Lennox’s arrival would throw a wrench in the works, she’d never anticipated just how massive that wrench was going to turn out to be.
In need of support, Ali left her store behind and headed along the boardwalk, Delaney’s craft store in mind. Her friend was always good at lending a supportive ear and providing sound advice.
As she went, she spotted the CSI van coming down the hill, passing her landlord Kerrigan O’Neal’s yellow and black painted house. Ali scurried away, not wanting to see the suited and booted crime scene operatives infiltrating her beloved bakery.
She passed the pier, and the smell of fried onions reached her nostrils. Suddenly, she remembered Seth. His opening day had coincided with the arrival—and death—of Brandon Lennox. If she’d thought her macaron launch had been ruined, she couldn’t begin to imagine how Seth must feel. She decided to visit him instead, to see how he was holding up.
She hurried up to the new gourmet hot dog store and went inside. The transformation from how it had looked yesterday was quite astounding. Seth had lacquered and put up all the shelves that he had, just yesterday, been sawing on the dust sheet. The walls were now dark green, and smelled faintly of paint. There was a large serving counter in the same lacquered beech wood and dark green color scheme, and a black chalkboard menu on the wall, stretching across the length of it, advertising all of the amazing hot dogs on offer.
Seth himself was working the till along with another person, a young woman in a visor, with a ponytail of glossy brunette hair poking through it. They were wearing matching black pants, dark green polo shirts, and bright red aprons, with the cartoon hot dog logo embroidered across the front. Seth’s polo shirt barely managed to fit around his bulging biceps.
The moment he spotted Ali approaching, Seth’s eyes sparked.
“Ali!” he exclaimed. He turned to his co-worker. “Take over for me, will you?”
The young girl nodded, her ponytail bobbing, and Seth lifted the counter hatch, ducking below, before hurrying over to Ali. To her surprise, he wrapped her in a bear hug.
“How are you?” he exclaimed. “Did you hear about Brandon Lennox?”
Ali was so stunned by the unexpected physical contact—not to mention the sensation of his extremely strong arms wrapped around her—that for a moment she forgot all about Brandon Lennox. But then the horrible memory of his life sputtering out of him returned to her, and she rang her hands with discomfort.
“You mean about him… passing?” she asked, tentatively. If the gossip hadn’t yet made it this far along the boardwalk, she didn’t really want to be the one to spread it.
As it was, Seth already knew, because he nodded vigorously, his dark eyes filled with astonishment. “Crazy, right?” he said. “People have been talking about it non-stop. And get this.” He leaned in closer to her—so close she could smell his toothpaste—and lowered his voice. “There’s a rumor going around that someone poisoned him. Apparently some uptight store owner couldn’t take a joke and poisoned his pastry.”
Ali felt a wave of terror wash through her. The gossipers of Willow Bay had been working exceptionally fast today. She shifted uncomfortably as she realized diners on the tables around her were starting to stare. It wouldn’t take long before they realized she was the “uptight store owner” of the rumors, and then what would come next? A vigilante mob?
Ali tugged at the collar of her shirt. It felt suddenly tight.
“That’s just speculation,” she muttered, feeling beads of sweat form on her forehead. “No one k
nows yet what happened. Not until there’s an autopsy, or whatever.”
Seth’s expression changed to concern, his thick, dark brows drawing in together. “Ali, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” Ali lied. Her eyes darted nervously to the customers staring at her. They were starting to whisper about her behind her hands. She was sure of it. And suddenly, she felt like she was on the verge of passing out.
Seth reached out and touched her arm lightly. Ali jumped a mile.
“Shall we talk somewhere more private?” he asked with gentle concern.
Ali hesitated momentarily, then gave him a tight nod.
Seth, his hand still resting on her forearm, guided Ali toward the kitchen. Despite the light-headedness and dizzying panic, Ali was more than acutely aware of the sensation of his warm skin on hers.
They passed through the swing doors into the kitchen. The sight of the cooking equipment made Ali’s heart yearn for her own bakery.
“What’s going on?” Seth asked, as the doors swung noisily closed behind them. “Is everything okay?”
Ali took a stool. “Actually, no,” she admitted. She gazed up into Seth’s inviting eyes, and without hesitation blurted, “It was my bakery.”
A perplexed frown appeared on Seth’s brow. “Your bakery…?”
“Where Brandon died.”
A look of sudden dawning swept across Seth’s features. “Oh. Oh no. So you’re the uptight store owner?”
“Yes. But I didn’t kill him!” Ali exclaimed, defensively. “You have to believe me!”
“Of course I believe you,” Seth said, in a tone that implied he was never in any doubt.
Ali felt her tenseness ease just a little. The dizzy feeling began to lessen.
Seth rested his backside against the counter and folded his arms across his middle. “What the heck happened, Ali? Why are people saying you had something to do with it?”
Ali rang her hands in her lap. “Because he spit out all my macarons. It was only for the camera, but I was so insulted and… and…” She gave up. Words failed her. There was no way to explain that moment in a way that didn’t make her seem highly suspicious.
But to Ali’s surprise, Seth gave her a reassuring look. “I understand. He came in here, too. Kid was a real piece of work.”
Ali peered up at him. “He came in here?”
Seth nodded, his mouth forming a tight line. “Yup. And he was less than pleasant, shall we say?”
Ali frowned. “Less than pleasant? What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you,” Seth said, thrusting his hand into his pocket for his cell. He began tapping buttons, explaining as he went, “He live streamed the whole thing. Look, it’s still up on his channel.” He handed the phone to Ali.
Ali looked down at the screen and watched as Brandon Lennox sauntered into the hot dog place and ordered his food, before promptly making some very lewd gestures with the hot dog.
Ali’s cheeks immediately began to burn. She hurriedly handed the phone back to Seth. “I see what you mean,” she mumbled.
Seth returned the phone to his pocket. “So, yeah. I can easily see how you’d earn yourself an uptight label if he was doing that sort of thing in your bakery. Unless you’re a teenage girl, there’s absolutely nothing likeable about the guy. Was nothing likeable… I should say.”
Ali twisted her lips. She didn’t like to think ill of the dead, even if seconds before he’d ceased living she was angrily ordering him out of her store for being a nuisance.
“Ali, let’s go get a drink or food or something,” Seth said, suddenly. “You’ve had a day, and we’re starting to wind down here. Carys can cover the counter.”
Ali hesitated. Was Seth asking her for a date? Again? Just after a guy had expired in front of her very eyes?
“It seems wrong,” she said, “going out to eat when a man just died. Besides, I’ve lost my appetite. Watching someone drop dead in front of you can do that.”
“You still have to eat,” Seth said. “Whether you have an appetite or not.”
He had her there. “Sure. But I can grab a sandwich on the way home or something. I don’t want you to waste your money treating me to a meal I’ll barely taste. Besides, I have so much on my mind right now, I won’t be any fun at all.”
Seth gave her a look, a teasing yet flirty one. “You didn’t even know the guy. Now you’re going to let him rob you of potentially the most enjoyable evening of your life?”
Oh, he was confident all right.
“Seth…” she said, warningly.
“I’m joking,” he replied with a big grin. “But in all seriousness, you know you had nothing to do with it, and that the police will work that out sooner or later. And I’m guessing it’s been a long, long time since you last had a night out or a day off. Now that your store is closed, you don’t have to be there all day, slaving away in a hot kitchen, so why not just take tonight to decompress and enjoy yourself, then handle everything tomorrow?”
Ali felt a smile twitch at the corner of her lips for the first time since Brandon had entered her store and turned her life upside down.
“Come on,” Seth cajoled, seeing she was starting to crack. “You clearly need to take your mind off of things.”
“I don’t know…” Ali said.
In what appeared to be a final, last-ditch attempt, Seth held his hands up in the air, in truce position and said, “It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. Just two new friends grabbing some food in the middle of a crazy situation.”
“I never said I didn’t want to date you,” Ali replied, with a small smile on her lips. “Just that your timing isn’t so great.”
Seth grinned. “Oh, I see… so a date is still on the cards, huh? Just another day. Another less crazy day.”
“That’s right,” she said, boldly, surprised at this new, flirty version of herself she’d never met before.
“Well, in that case,” Seth said, leaning casually up against the counter, “I know a great place for a non-date. A totally normal place for a man and a woman to hang out and grab a casual bite to eat. La Vie En Rose. Have you heard of it?”
“Heard of it?” Ali repeated. “Seth, it’s like the most upmarket restaurant in town!”
“Then you’d better wear your best dress,” he replied, coolly, with a cheeky grin. “Want to meet me there once I’ve locked up tonight?”
Once again, his forthrightness took Ali by surprise. She thought of Nate, who’d blown her off the previous night. She thought of Otis, now lording it up in New York with Colton. And finally, she thought of Brandon Lennox, dead on the floor of her bakery. She deserved this. Just one night to take her mind off of everything.
“Okay,” she said, before her mind had a chance to talk her out of it.
“Excellent,” Seth replied, with a flirty smile. “I’ll see you there.”
Ali practically stumbled out of the hot dog place, her mind in a swirl. How had she gone from being completely convinced that a date would be a terrible idea, to suddenly having one planned at La Vie En Rose in the next few hours? What was she doing agreeing to a date—at the fanciest restaurant in town, no less, with the hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on—when her bakery was currently an active crime scene? She must’ve completely lost her mind!
And come to think of it, did she even own any dresses?
With a sudden panic overcoming her, Ali realized she had to get home right now this instant and find something to wear.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ali arrived home in a flap and went straight to her closet. She flung open the doors and began rifling through her dresses, searching for something—anything—that might even remotely fit the label of “best dress” for her so-called “non-date” with Seth.
“Ughhh… why are all my dresses black?” she exclaimed out loud, before realizing the only times she’d ever really worn dresses was for funerals. Everything else in her closet was jeans (in the boyf
riend or mom style), dungarees (in the kindergarten toddler style), and a couple of jumpsuits she’d ordered offline because they looked excellent on the five-foot-eleven model but somehow made her average five-foot-five frame and build look like a shapeless, frumpy whale. She felt panic leap into her throat.
There was only one thing for it. Ali grabbed her cell phone and FaceTimed her brother.
“Hi, Ali-cat,” Teddy said as his face filled her screen. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Long story,” Ali said. “A guy died in my store. But that’s not why I’m calling. I need your help picking an outfit.”
“Wait. Wait. What?” Teddy exclaimed. “Rewind a second. A guy died in your store? Did you just say a guy died in your store?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Ali said hurriedly. She really didn’t want to dwell on the Brandon Lennox situation. Worrying about her date was the perfect way to channel the anxiety she was already feeling. The last thing she needed was Teddy reminding her there were far more important reasons to be anxious—like being accused of murdering a man, and having her bakery boarded up on suspicion of poisoning. “It was very tragic. Now can you help me find a way of ensembling my pieces so I don’t look like a preschooler who insisted on dressing themselves for a playdate?”
Teddy’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “Ali. You cannot gloss over this! How did someone die in your store?”
Ali took a deep breath. There was no avoiding it. Teddy needed to know, and she wasn’t going to be able to escape her feelings by trying to distract herself anyway.
She sank down onto the bed. “It was Brandon Lennox.”
Teddy choked on nothing. “The YouTuber? The barf-on-camera guy?”
“The very one,” Ali replied, glumly.
“Ali!” Teddy exclaimed. “This is huge! This is going to be all over the news! Or at least the internet!”
“Yes, eventually,” Ali said. “Right now it’s just the hot gossip on the boardwalk. The rumor is that an ‘uptight store owner’ didn’t appreciate being pranked, so laced his pastry with poison.”
