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BDM02 - Donuts, Antiques and Murder

Page 9

by Alabaster, Stacey


  She allowed a smile of amusement to cross her face. "It's not as severe as all that. Yes, you'll be able to bake again. But as for how many of the items you'll be able to eat, that's another story."

  I frowned and tilted my head. "You're going to have to be less cryptic, doc."

  "You've got a gluten allergy. Quite a bad one, I'm afraid." She raised an eyebrow at me. "Are your symptoms worse after you eat one of your cakes, for instance?"

  I thought back over my symptoms over the past few weeks. "Yes," I gasped. "It seems worset after I've eaten a piece of cake or a brownie." I threw my head back. "Oh, why did this have to happen to me!" I was half-joking, being melodramatic for the sake of it, but there was an element of truth to my dismay.

  Pippa looked at me in horror. "Oh my goodness, Rachael, what are you going to do?"

  I thought about all those gluten-free items I had bought the other day when I'd been fibbing to Pippa about what I was up to. I gulped. Maybe the only thing I was cursed with was bad karma...or irony.

  "We might have to add a few new items to the menu, Pips." I sighed. "Or else, I'm going to have to leave the majority of the taste-testing to you."

  She was trying not to smile. "I think I can handle that."

  Doctor Ng gave me some tips and some brochures, and told me to see my personal physician for more blood tests and advice if my symptoms got any worse. "Feel better soon, Rachael."

  "I hate to ask you this, Rach, but do you think you could come back and help out at the function?" Pippa cringed apologetically as she waited for my answer.

  I was weary and ragged, but I managed a smile. "Just try to keep me away."

  * * *

  "Shoot, sorry, Bronson. That took way longer than we thought," I said, rushing into the bakery. My stomach was rumbling again already and I instinctively reached for a brownie before Pippa smacked it out of my hand.

  "Oh, right."

  The man who was apparently in charge of organizing the birthday party, a 40-something year old man with an expensive suit and a matching attitude, marched over and asked who was in charge.

  "That would be me, I guess."

  He hesitated before he handed the check over. "We were expecting a far bigger venue than this. Something twice the size, in fact."

  When I'd updated the website to include our new function facility, I'd assumed I'd have Gus's shop to expand into by now. I really needed to log in and fix that up.

  Pippa and I exchanged glances. "We may be small in size, but that just adds to the cozy atmosphere! I'm sure your guests have all been able to get nice and close to each other. It would have made for some great socializing!"

  Bronson nodded. "And everyone looks more than happy, sir."

  The man looked a little skeptical, but he nodded and handed over the check. "I suppose that's true," he said. "Thanks, girls."

  I heaved a heavy sigh of relief. I needed that check. Mostly so I could pay Pippa a big fat bonus at the end of the month.

  We high-fived. "Thank God today is all over with. Hey, Rach, promise me one thing?"

  "Anything."

  "No more high-maintenance clients."

  Now that was a promise I could keep. "Deal."

  We both stared at the rows of leftovers. Pippa picked up a brownie and began to hand it to me before she realized what she was doing. Looked like we both needed to get used to my new dietary restrictions. "Oh. Shoot, Rach, I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"

  I laughed. "You mean what am I going to eat from now on? I know it does sound crazy, but I have heard of people that eat foods besides cakes and cookies and donuts."

  Pippa's eyes were wide. "That's no way to live. We are going to have to start stocking a very wide range of gluten-free products. Otherwise, you’re going to starve to death."

  I chuckled. I could deal with my gluten allergy later. Right then, I was just grateful that Pippa and I were back to being best friends again.

  I took a deep breath. "Now, Pippa, if I could just ask you one big favor..."

  * * *

  "Okay, but I swear this is the last time I'm doing this." Pippa's tone was teasing as she reached for the pin in her hair.

  "Maybe it's the last time I'm going to need you to do this. After all this, I'm thinking about giving up the detective work for good."

  Pippa's hands worked expertly and soon the lock clicked open. The sun had set and the shop was empty.

  I took a deep breath. There was only one thing left to do.

  Chapter 12

  "Why does he still keep this here?" Pippa whispered. It was the first time she had really come face to face with the painting, the first time she had not been completely afraid to.

  "Even after he started clearing the other stuff out of here," I said quietly. "And why won't he give the painting back to Maureen?"

  I knelt down. "Come have a look at this, Pippa."

  She squatted down besides me. "Those are definitely wires." I ran the thin metal wire through my hands, letting them snake through my fingers.

  I stood up again. "In the dark we wouldn't have seen them, of course. That night when Gus was trying to scare us away."

  "What was he trying to scare us away from, though?" Pippa asked.

  "From this." I pushed the painting aside.

  "Holy crud!" Pippa exclaimed. What are those?"

  The sound of the back door opening made both of us jump and I quickly put the painting back in position.

  I grabbed Pippa and pulled her so that we were huddled behind an old statue that wouldn't stop wobbling. "Keep still or it is going to topple over," I whispered to her.

  A large white figure that looked like it was floating came towards us and Pippa's knees only started jittering more and more.

  "I can't...I can't stop shaking, Rach. I knew...I knew this place was haunted...and now the ghost has come looking for us!"

  She made a move to run, but I pulled her back and reached for the flashlight she had dropped on the floor last time, which was still lying there, out of place amongst the expensive old relics.

  Pippa was going to give away our position anyway.

  I flicked the light on and shone it on the hazy white figure lunging towards us. "There's your ghost," I said.

  "Romeo?" Pippa's breathing was short and ragged. "What are you doing? Did you break in here?"

  "No," I said firmly. "Because he has a key."

  "What?" Pippa whispered. "Romeo, what’s going on?"

  He gulped and glanced towards the painting. And what was behind it.

  He kicked the painting so hard that the frame split and cracked, causing both Pippa and I to gasp. While we both lunged towards it to check it was still intact, the statue smashed down around us and Romeo fled out the back door, kicking and knocking items over as he went, creating a gauntlet for Pippa and I to get through if we were ever going to catch him.

  "Stop him!" I yelled.

  Pippa tripped over the statue and cried out in pain, clutching her ankle. "Pippa!?" I knelt down beside her while she groaned for me to go after Romeo. "That is his stuff hidden behind the painting, isn't it?"

  I nodded at her. "Did you ever ask who Romeo was when you first met him? Pippa, he wasn't just a customer here that day you two met. He worked here."

  Pippa groaned in pain again. "You have to go after him. He's going to get away. He's going to get away with killing Jason and Bridget."

  "But, Pippa..."

  "I'm fine," she insisted. "You can come back for me later. Hurry, go!"

  I took off after Romeo. Outside, it was already dark and I immediately wished I'd thought to bring the flashlight. I turned back so that I could run and get it, but a hand reached out and grabbed me. I kicked at him. "Let me go!"

  "Not if you're going to go back in there and reveal my secret." He placed his hands over my mouth. "Not if you're going to go back in there and tell Pippa."

  I stopped struggling for a second. "What?"

  I heard him gulp. "I don't want Pippa to know
what I did."

  "It's too late for that now, Romeo. She already knows. She already saw the stolen antique swords you are hiding in there." I swallowed. "I know that Gus would never put his business in jeopardy that way." I pulled hard and finally freed myself, but he grabbed me again by the wrist.

  "Pippa is lying in there hurt, Romeo. If you care about her at all, you will let me go in and see her. What if one of your swords falls on her and hurts her, or worse, kills her the way they killed Jason and Bridget."

  Romeo brought his hands to his face and stumbled forward as a sob escaped from his lungs. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

  I yanked my wrist free. "You could have stopped it, Romeo. You could have stopped it after the first time. What the heck are you doing, keeping those things stored there?"

  I heard him sniffling. Not so tough once he'd been caught. "There's a black market for them," he whispered. "When I moved back to town a month or two ago, I got into contact with some people who were interested in buying them.”

  “So what happened?” I asked. “How was Jason killed?”

  Romeo hesitated at first, but then came clean. “It was a deal gone bad. The sword he wanted had been stolen from some history museum. I didn’t steal it. I was just the middleman. When he came in to buy it from me, he got aggressive and I was afraid he was going to walk out with the sword without paying. I tried to get it back from him, but…” He stared off into the distance and I could tell he was picturing it all in his mind. “The sword was heavy,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t control it. The next thing I knew, he was on the floor. It all happened so fast.”

  “What about Bridget?” I asked, not picturing her as the type who would be interested in black market swords.

  Romeo sighed. “I hid the swords in my apartment until after the cops searched the antique store. When I thought it was safe, I brought them back to the shop to hide them. I knew that if I hid them behind that bloody painting that everyone is so afraid of, no one would ever see them there. No one would dare to move the painting. Not even my old man."

  I narrowed my eyes. "But someone did move the painting, didn't they?"

  Romeo nodded. "That lady, Bridget, she moved it and…” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

  "One of the swords fell on her," I said quietly.

  Romeo nodded.

  "What the heck are you two doing out here?" I jumped at the sound of Gus's voice.

  I spun to face him. "Gus, I'm just..." I turned back to Romeo. "How could you do this to your dad?"

  "I did this FOR my dad," Romeo cried. "The business was failing. This was my way of bringing in extra money for him. I was protecting him by not telling him about it...not telling him where the swords were stored."

  I could see Gus's face growing heavy. "You did know, didn't you?" I whispered.

  He was still staring at the ground. "Of course I did. After that young man was killed, I found the swords and told Romeo to get out of my house and my business. He already had that new job next door with you anyway. Which he managed to mess up after a week! Like he always manages to do!"

  Romeo took an angry step towards his father. "I was just trying to help you! You could at least show a little gratitude!"

  "Help me? By completely destroying the business that I worked all my life to build? By killing a person in my store? Why should I be grateful for that! You should be grateful I tried to protect you instead of turning you in to the cops! But then you had to go and put the swords back there while I was out of town for the weekend! Which I had to rush back to remedy! Just like I've always had to clean up all your messes!"

  Romeo raised his fist and took a step towards his dad, ready and aimed. I sucked in a sharp breath, shielding my face as Romeo prepared to strike.

  Just then sirens sounded and Pippa came hobbling out of the back of the shop. "You may as well keep your hands up, Romeo! Because you're about to be arrested! Not only are you the worst boyfriend and employee I've ever seen, you're the worst criminal as well."

  * * *

  Detective Crawford shoved Romeo into the back of the van while Jackson kept the engine running.

  After a moment of hesitation, Detective Crawford strode over to me. "I've only got a moment. I just wanted to tell you that we found that missing video footage from your store. A young man confessed to breaking in and stealing it. Name of George Tatler. He said he was trying to catch an art thief or something. Thought something strange was going on at Gus's place. A very convoluted story about an old painting. I dunno, just between you and I, he was a little eccentric. Some stuff about a curse." She gave me an 'I don't know what to tell you' face.

  "Another amateur detective, I guess."

  Detective Crawford nodded at me and turned to leave. "Hey," she said. "Thanks for your help solving this case, Rachael." I nodded and caught Jackson's eye briefly as she jumped back into the car.

  We exchanged nothing but a brief smile as they drove away.

  Once again, I was left on the curbside with Gus Sampson as my only companion. Pippa had had the longest day of her life and she'd passed out with exhaustion in the back seat of my car.

  "Gus, why did you do all this? Why did you cover for Romeo?" I stared out into the black night. "Why did you let everyone believe all the stupid superstitious stuff?"

  "Because I was so desperate to save my shop, I would rather the police look for a killer on the loose, or the community blame a ghost, than blame my son and put us all out of business." Gus picked up a stick and dug it into the concrete.

  "That night when Pippa and I..." I paused. "Broke in. That was you, wasn't it, trying to scare us away?"

  Gus nodded reluctantly. "I used the curse to try and scare you away, get you off Romeo's trail. I already knew a little bit about the curse, of course, but Romeo told me all this extra stuff that little blue-haired friend of yours knew about it. All these details I never heard before. All came from some paranormal society or something."

  I sighed and shook my head. "It all became a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, I think."

  I turned to face Gus. "So why wouldn't you give the painting back to Maureen?" I lowered my voice and spoke softly. "You know what that painting means to her, right? What the painting depicts?"

  Gus dropped his head and nodded. "Yeah, I know. But if I gave the painting back, then I wouldn't have anything to attract customers, would I? I know the police would never take the curse theory seriously, but if enough regular people could be fooled... Well, people are interested in that sort of stuff.

  "But you wouldn't stop snooping,” he huffed.

  I stood up. "Well, Gus, you can't put everything right. But there is one thing you can do."

  He nodded. "I know," he whispered.

  * * *

  Pippa collapsed into my bed. I was going to take the sofa that night. "I can't believe all this time, there really was no curse. I guess you probably think I really am stupid and easily taken in now."

  I sat down besides her and gave her a tiny wink. "At least, no curse that we know of for certain."

  She gave me an amused, slacked jawed look and sat up. "You gotta be kidding me, Rachael. Our roles really have reversed now!"

  I sat and thought for a moment. "There really is a lot we don't know about. I keep thinking of all those stories your friends told that night at the meeting. There really are a lot of unsolved mysteries in Belldale."

  Pippa laid her head back against the pillow. "Does this mean that you will come to another meeting?"

  I thought about it for a moment. "I think I might have to. After all, I'm going to need another mystery to solve now, aren't I?"

  Epilogue

  Two months later.

  I tapped my champagne flute with my spoon. "Now," I said as the chatter died down. "I've already had one grand opening three years ago, but this feels like another big moment. A second grand opening." I nodded at Pippa, who ran to pull down the curtain.

  "Ta da!"

  "La
dies and gentlemen, can I present to you: Rachael's Boutique Bakery, part two!"

  The crowd clapped and Jackson, stranded amongst them, caught my eye and winked at me. "Congrats," he mouthed, before he turned his attention back to Detective Crawford.

  Gus slowly walked up to me and extended his hand. "Congratulations, Rachael. I mean it."

  I grinned at him. "I'm just glad that the sewing shop on the other side decided to sell up! So it was great timing for both of us. How is your store going, anyway?"

  Gus nodded. "It's still a little slow, as you can understand. But since I've started to move into restoration, things have picked up a little." He suddenly grew very serious. "Rachael, if you have a moment in the midst of all your celebrations, can I borrow you for a minute?"

  I nodded and asked Pippa to supervise as I followed him into his store. No longer dark and drab, it was bright and airy, with fresh coats of white and yellow paint that made the whole place look light and inviting. "You can see all the artwork I'm restoring now."

  I nodded, slowly walking along the rows of paintings. "I'm a little surprised, after all…"

  "Miss Robinson?" a posh English voice interrupted.

  I spun around to see Maureen Tatler standing there.

  "This is why I invited you over, Rachael. I think you ought to be here when I present this."

  Gus reached behind his counter and pulled out the painting of the twins. The broken frame was now replaced with fine silver, the ripped canvas painstakingly put back together, and the ruined paint restored back to its original quality.

  Maureen's eyes filled with tears as she took the painting from him with shaking hands.

  "My collection is finally complete after all these years," she whispered, running her withered hand over the painting, gently caressing the faces of the twins, lost in a cloud of memories.

  Back at the bakery, I closed the door quietly behind me.

 

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