Trick or Murder: A Bite-sized Bakery Cozy Mystery Book 12

by Point, Rosie A.

  If I wanted to bury something in my back yard, where would I do it?

  I searched the fence line then started on the bushes. The half-crushed one I’d landed in the other day drew my attention, and I shifted its leaves and branches out of the way. My jaw dropped.

  A disturbed patch of soil sat underneath the bush.

  Quickly, I set down my cell phone on the ground, grabbed the shovel, and set to work. It took me too shovelfuls of loose dirt until I hit the top of a wooden box. My heart skipped several beats. This was it. Either I’d just uncovered something important, or it was a collection of random college girl photos for a time capsule.

  I set the shovel aside and brought the box out, my hands trembling. I brushed off soil from the lid and opened it.

  A knife lay within, blood on its blade.

  My gasp shuddered in my chest.

  It was them. The girls had murdered Vera, and here was the murder weapon to prove it.

  “Don’t move,” a woman spoke behind me.

  I snapped the lid shut. “It’s OK. I’m, uh, I’m—”

  “Turn around.” I did as I was asked and came face-to-face with the Laci, the mousy friend who owned the treehouse. Her bottom lip trembled. “Why are you here?” she whispered, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “Why?”

  “It’s OK,” I said. “You’re OK.” My mind had blanked on alternative dialogue options.

  “Get away from that.” She started forward, and I put my hands up.

  Laci didn’t have a weapon, but she would if I let her touch the box. Besides, the evidence needed to be handed over to the police.

  “Don’t,” I said. “Laci, I… I need to talk to you about something I saw today.”

  “How do you know my name? Who are you? Why are you following me everywhere?”

  Following her everywhere? “I’m Ruby,” I said. “I work on the food truck that parks in the town square? We sell cakes.”

  “Uh.”

  “I know that doesn’t make sense, right now, but Laci, we should talk. Why don’t we go up into the treehouse and have a chat about this box and some other stuff.”

  More tears made their bid for escape, and Laci scrubbed her cheeks. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

  “We can talk about it.” Laci didn’t seem a cold-blooded killer. My money was on Rebecca having done this, and even if she hadn’t, I needed to get Laci up in the treehouse and talking. That way, I could wait it out until past 10pm. Bee would know for sure what I’d meant in my message to her, relayed through Jules.

  She’d either call the cops or come over herself, and then this would all be over. That was what I hoped anyway. I just had to survive, keep Laci calm, and wait it out until then.

  “I don’t know…”

  “What else can we do here?” I asked. “You can’t call the cops.” I nodded to the box containing the knife. “And I’m not going to do that either without us first discussing this.”

  “What’s there to discuss?” Laci folded her skinny arms over a pink PJ top.

  “I told you, I saw something today that may be of interest to you. We’ll take this up to the treehouse so we know it’s safe. Does that sound good to you?” I couldn’t risk calling the cops in front of her—she might attack, or her friend might be waiting nearby.

  “OK,” Laci said, at last. “OK.”

  I took the box and tucked it under my arm, wincing at the rattling of the knife hitting the lid. Together with the murderer, I climbed up the ladder into the pitch-black treehouse.

  17

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Laci whispered, tugging on the hem of her pink PJ top. She hadn’t quit worrying it since we’d taken up positions at opposite ends of the treehouse. Laci had insisted on sitting nearest the hatch. The hair on the back of my neck had been standing on end permanently since then.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” I asked. “Go through it step-by-step. It can be cathartic to talk about this type of thing. Trust me, I’ve made plenty of bad mistakes in my life. It’s better to get it out than hold it in.”

  “See, that’s what I was telling Rebecca,” Laci said, as she lit three stubby candles on top of the shoebox. “I can’t keep it in anymore. It’s starting to wear me out.”

  I checked antique wooden box containing the knife was safely within reach. I’d placed it so that Laci wouldn’t feel threatened—like I was holding it for the police, which was exactly what I was doing—but so that it was still in reach if I needed to snatch it out of her reach.

  “Exactly. So, why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  “Well, it all started when Rebecca and I decided we’d play a prank on Heathcliff on Halloween night. We wanted to dress up scary and give him—”

  “Shut up!” The hiss had come from the open hatchway.

  Horror clawed at my throat.

  Rebecca’s raven-haired head poked from the opening. She climbed into the treehouse wearing silk black PJs, her eyes blazing with white-hot fury. “What the heck are you doing, Laci? Who is this old lady?”

  Old lady? Ouch.

  “Hi,” I said, brightly. “I’m Ruby. I work on the local—”

  “Were you about to tell her?” Becca asked, glaring at her friend.

  “I’m tired of not talking about it. I’m tired of it, OK? I feel like—”

  “Shut up,” Becca snapped.

  “There’s no need for that,” I said. “I can just leave if you two need some time alone.”

  “No,” Becca said. “You’re not going anywhere. Does she know, Laci?”

  “I didn’t tell her, but… but she found the box.”

  Becca’s cold, dark eyes turned on me. “So, you thought you’d come in here and get her to spill, right? That’s it? This is why we only trust each other, Laci, not anyone else.”

  I reached for the box, but Becca was quicker. She snatched it out of range, opened it, and withdrew the bloodied knife.

  “You’re getting your fingerprints all over that,” I said.

  “Do you think I care? They’re already on there.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Why do this? You didn’t even know Vera.”

  “It was an accident,” Laci squeaked.

  “Shut up!” Becca yelled at her. “This is your fault Laci, I told you we shouldn’t have brought the real knife, and you did it anyway. Accident or not, you’re the one who should get in trouble for this, and I’m tired of covering for you.”

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Laci buried her face in her hands. “I can’t watch.”

  “Then don’t,” Becca said, her tone softening. “See, Laci, I’m always the one who looks after you. I’ll make sure that you don’t get in trouble for this. I promised, remember? I promised. You can trust me.”

  Becca shuffled closer, swishing the knife through the air, her face pallid by the candlelight. What a terrible way to close off Halloween.

  “Laci, wait,” I said. “Wait, don’t let her control you. She’s… I saw her kissing Heathcliff the other day. They’re cheating on you behind your back.”

  Laci’s shoulders quit shaking. She looked up, anger twisting her pretty features. “What?”

  “She’s lying,” Becca said, but she’d stopped dead in her tracks, parallel to the hatchway. She turned toward Laci. “I didn’t do that. Come on, Lace, you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

  “Is that why you didn’t want me to go near Heathcliff? Was that why…? You told me going to see him would be dangerous because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut,” Laci hissed. “You… you—” A pained wail escaped the young woman, and she dove at her friend.

  I shouted for them to stop, but it was too late.

  Laci’s hands connected with Becca’s chest and she toppled backward out of the treehouse. She fell with a tremendous thump and lay still under the treehouse.

  A horrible quiet followed.

  “Oh no,” Laci whispered. “Oh no, no, no.”
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  “It’s OK, just relax.”

  “I can’t believe I did that, I just got so angry,” Laci whispered, clutching her cheeks. “She cheated on me. I mean, they cheated one me. Both of them. I—”

  Sirens whooped in the street nearby, and flashing lights followed. My spirits lifted. Good job, Bee!

  “Laci, tell me what happened in the haunted house, please.”

  “It was an accident,” she whispered, shaking her head. “We wanted to scare Heathcliff, but he didn’t show up. I got a fright, and Rebecca pushed me into the person in front of me, and the knife went into her. I panicked. We ran and we hid the knife. And…”

  “Come down with your hands up!” Detective Snodgrass’ voice sounded from the yard below.

  Rebecca stirred, groaning, and Laci burst into tears. And I took the stairs first, descending without a smile, but with a feeling of mild satisfaction. As horrible as it was, the girls had done it. I’d been right about Jack.

  I turned, my palms up, and spotted Bee standing near the picket fence at the front of the house. I offered her a timorous smile. She returned it.

  18

  The following day…

  “I’m so sorry, Ruby,” Bee said for what felt like the fiftieth time this morning. “I shouldn’t have left you to do this on your own. I should’ve believed in your convictions.”

  “No, Bee. You were right to follow your gut, just like I was right to follow mine. It all worked out in the end.”

  I’d learned that friendship wasn’t about blinding following along with what your best friend wanted, simply because you wanted to make them happy or even protect them. It was being honest with yourself and with them and supporting them regardless.

  That, unfortunately, was a lesson I should’ve learned long ago. Better late than never, right?

  “Are you sure, Ruby?” Bee asked, trailing me as I headed out to open the food truck’s shutter. “I don’t want this to come between us.”

  “Of course, I’m sure,” I said. “I’ve got to admit, it was pretty exhausting to try to investigate a case right after we’d just gone through one.”

  “That was my problem,” Bee replied, nodding and smiling at the customers approaching the truck. “I was just so tired. There’s been nothing but mayhem since we arrived in this town. I’d really just like to spend some time relaxing, and I was so sad about the fact that it was Vera who passed.”

  “Let’s move past it,” I said. “At least I know I’m actually contributing to our investigations now.”

  Bee laughed. “You were always contributing.”

  We had our aprons tied on, our smiles up, and plenty of decadent baked goods to sell, from custard crème slices to chocolate cupcakes and red velvet donuts. Our specialty, however, would be the pumpkin-spiced cheesecake slices—just in time for Thanksgiving.

  The customers were all abuzz with the news of Jack’s release and the arrest of Laci and Rebecca. Heathcliff had had no idea what was going on. Mistake or not, the young women had tried to cover up what had happened rather than admitting to it. The charges had yet to be announced, but I had the feeling that what they had done would not count in their favor.

  Halfway through the day, two surprised customers arrived.

  “Hello!” Leslie, the friendly real-life witch, was arm-in-arm with Jack. “How are you two today?”

  “Hi! Jack, how are you?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you at the guesthouse since you were released?”

  “He’s been staying at my place,” Leslie said. “I’ve been visiting him in prison. I know it might seem strange, but I just felt so bad for him after what happened, and, well, he’s decided to hire me as his carer.”

  I didn’t disagree with the choice. Leslie had been a sweetheart to Bee and me, and Jack seemed much calmer next to her. I got the feeling he needed a feminine presence because he’d spent so much time with his sister.

  “It’s all above board,” Leslie continued. “We spoke to Vera’s lawyer and everything.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “I’m so glad everything worked out. Are you happy Jack?”

  He met my gaze, his green eyes soft. “Thank you,” he said.

  My throat closed, and I blinked tears. All of the confusion and worry over the past week was worth it for this moment. Jack was vindicated, and he was happy, and the streets of Prattlebark Village were safe again.

  “What can I get for you?” I asked.

  “I’ll take a red velvet donut, please,” Leslie said. “What would you like, Jack?”

  “Donut, please.”

  “I’ll get it,” Bee said, and threw an arm around my shoulder. She squeezed tight. “You’ve done enough for one week.”

  Laughter bubbled up in my throat, and I lost myself in the happiness of that moment. At the start of our time in Prattlebark Village, I’d been sure that we’d wind up driven out of town or leaving of our own volition. Now, I couldn’t picture a better place to spend the rest of the year.

  Ruby and Bee’s story continues in Book 13 of the Bite-sized Bakery Cozy Mystery series, coming in November!

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