CASE OF THE BURNED BROWNIES
Jessica Lansberry
Copyright 2017 - Jessica Lansberry
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Edited by: Keri Lierman
Books in the Cookie Club Mystery Series:
Strawberry Cream Stabbing - GET IT!
Sugar Cream Shooting - GET IT!
Passion Fruit Poisoning - GET IT!
1
It was the relentless onslaught of drizzle, more than anything, that annoyed Beatrice to no end. Full on, typhoon inducing rain, she could handle. Heat so strong it melted tires, she could handle. But it was the non-stop, pitter-patter drizzle that annoyed her the most. Always threatening to erupt into full on rain, but never quite getting there.
It was that, combined with the grey afternoon sky, that made the current setting depressing, and it was a large contributing factor towards making the current car trip as unenjoyable as it was.
Beatrice was exactly five hours into the road trip, but those five somehow felt like thirty. Maybe taking this road trip with her best friends, Stella and Sophie, wasn't such a good idea. As that thought hit her, she shook her head at herself — of course, it wasn’t a good idea.
It wasn’t so much that they were complaining, or doing anything outwardly annoying, it was just because it was Sophie and Stella, Beatrice had been relegated driving duties and was therefore forced to drive the entire way… all eight hours.
They were supposed to be taking turns, that was the original deal when she invited the girls along. She was going to do the first three, then three to Sophie and the final two to Stella. Simple and easy. This pact automatically lost steam the moment they jumped in the car and Sophie, shrugging her shoulders innocently, announced that she didn’t even know how to drive. Sophie probably should have mentioned it earlier.
The whole pact fell right out from underneath Beatrice the moment that she put the car into gear and Stella began to paint and manicure her nails. By the time Stella was done she concluded that she simply couldn’t drive unless she wanted to ruin the polish she had just spent two hours applying. Surely, Beatrice would understand, and she did understand, but that didn’t mean that she accepted it. As there was nothing she could do, the task of driving fell to Beatrice.
Five hours in and she was starting to get a little sleepy. She rolled down her window slightly, relishing in the cold air as it lashed at her face. She needed it to keep her awake. She had been tired lately, the entire day in fact. There was no reason for it either. She had gotten plenty of sleep the night before.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror, sighing at how her physical appearance matched perfectly the way she was feeling. Her skin, not as tight as it once was, seemed to hang off her face. Her eyes were droopy and watery, and her nose felt itchy. Even her greying hair, usually so perfectly cropped, was frayed and ratty. In short, she looked old and frail.
Sure, Beatrice hadn’t resigned herself to that exact definition yet. She was only in her 60’s and still had several good years left. If she ever needed proof of this, all she needed to do was pay attention for once, to the mounds of men that were constantly flirting with her — at least according to Stella. It was just that every now and then, a day like this one arrived, as if to remind her that her days were numbered.
Beatrice let off a loud yawn, her eyes darting to Stella in the backseat who was sound asleep. Stella was the same age as Beatrice, although she dressed and acted a good twenty years younger. Even now, for a simple car trip, her face was plastered with make-up, her hair was done up as if she were about to hit the town and even though she was sleeping, she managed to hold her hands up in a position so that no damage would befall her freshly manicured nails.
In the passenger seat was Beatrice’s other best friend, Sophie, and was as opposite to Stella as one could get. She had no makeup on to speak of, wore a big blue muumuu dress, had glasses so thick and heavy that they were constantly falling down her nose and was into the habit of dying her hair outrageous colors. Today’s color of choice was yellow.
Although Sophie was awake, Beatrice almost wished she were asleep. For some reason, she would not stop talking about Mexico and how much she just couldn’t wait to get there. If Beatrice didn’t know any better, she would have suspected that Sophie was under the impression they were heading to Mexico. That would also explain the sombrero that was at her feet.
“I’m thinking of joining a Cartel as well,” Sophie went on, gazing in wonder at the small drops of rain that formed on the window. “But then again, I would probably end up in prison. I don’t know if I’d like Mexican prison.”
“What are you talking about Sophie?” Beatrice asked, despite herself. The thing about Sophie was that she was a little flaky at times. She missed the plot more often than not, and was usually content with living in the fantasy world that she had created for herself.
“Just coming up with things to do while we’re in Mexico,” she responded seriously.
But the ladies weren’t going to Mexico, not by a long shot.
They were actually heading eight hours north, to a small lakeside village named Kingstown. A wedding was taking place there and Beatrice had been hired to make the desserts. The reason for her hiring so far away from home was that the wedding was for an old student who loved her baking more than anybody and insisted that she cater. Beatrice, not wanting to say no, agreed.
She also saw it for the golden opportunity that it was. Kingstown was a beautiful little resort town that was ideal for a vacation, and a vacation was what Beatrice needed more than anything. She had just been so busy lately that she had forgotten what it was like to take a break, even for a day. Between her bakery, her catering services and the time she spent between friends, family and scorned lovers, she was at breaking point. This little trip up to Kingstown was the perfect solution.
Of course, Beatrice wasn’t into taking vacations by herself though. That kind of thing was for divorcee’s and twenty-something year olds. Luckily, Beatrice just happened to have two very good friends who were also in need of a vacation.
Beatrice just had to get through this very long car trip, and then it would be smooth sailing. By this time tomorrow she would be drinking champagne by the side of the lake.
“Beatrice, can I eat these brownies?” Sophie asked.
Beatrice looked across, her eyes popping when she spotted the Tupperware container on Sophie’s lap, open and full of home baked brownies. “Where did you get those?” she asked.
“I found them,” Sophie said, a mischievous smile on her face.
Beatrice knew that she found them tucked away nice and safe underneath the seat where Beatrice had hidden them. She had made them specifically for when they arrived at Kingstown, not to be eaten by Sophie on the car trip up, but she also knew Sophie and knew that saying no wouldn’t do her much good.
“OK,” Beatrice relented. “You can have one.”
Sophie’s eyes sparkled with delight as her hands danced over the brownies, as if deciding which one looked the biggest and the best. Not that it mattered, since Beatrice had made them, they were all the biggest and the best. Beatrice didn’t make bad brownies.
It was just as Sophie was reaching for a particularly scrumptious looking brownie that the car began to shake violently. As this happened, steam began to pour from under the hood.
�
��Oh no!” Beatrice moaned as the car continued to rattle. It sounded like a dying animal the way it started to carry on.
“What! Who!” Stella spurted as she shot up in her seat, now wide awake. Despite the sudden movement, her hands remained perfectly held in front of her, still out of harm's way.
“Nothing. Just... well, I don’t know what. Something is wrong with the engine,” Beatrice said, slowing the car down as she parked it on the side of the road. Even with the engine off, steam still spewed from under the hood.
“Well, why don’t you go and take a look?” Stella asked.
“What? And do what? Hit the giant ‘ON’ button?” Beatrice said. The funny thing was that Beatrice actually knew a little bit about cars. Her late husband had been very handy with a wrench and had taught her a thing or two, but for some reason Beatrice didn’t think that her limited knowledge extended into fixing whatever was wrong with this car.
“It might be something obvious?” Stella pointed out.
“Well why don’t you take a look?” Beatrice countered, knowing the likelihood of Stella doing that. And sure enough, Stella simply held her fresh nails in the air as if to say that the very thought of her checking under the hood was ludicrous.
“Hey, I know!” Sophie suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I can push it!”
“You can’t push it, Sophie,” Beatrice sighed, not in the mood to deal with the intricacies of Sophie. Not right now anyway. “Not all the way, at least.”
“Not to Mexico,” Sophie said seriously. Scrunching up her face so her big round glasses slid down her nose. “I just meant to that garage. Up there” she pointed in front of her as she spoke.
From where Sophie was sitting she had a better view of what lay beyond the curve of the road up ahead. As Beatrice leaned across the gear stick, to see what Sophie was pointing at, she instantly spotted it, a garage was less than half a mile away.
“Sophie, I could kiss you,” Beatrice beamed as she slid back into her seat, turning the car back on.
“Yes, please!” Sophie returned with enthusiasm, again clapping her hands together.
Beatrice shook her head, unable to stop herself from smiling at Sophie. She pulled the car back onto the road and slowly made her way to the gas station, the car rattling and roaring the entire way.
◆◆◆
The garage sat on the outskirts of a very tiny town that Beatrice had never heard of, called Mt. Morte, referred to as just Morte by the locals. It was the kind of town that had one of everything, like one grocery store, one diner and one small movie theater. It was the type of town where everybody knew everyone. It was also the type of town where Beatrice wanted to spend as little time as possible.
Pulling up to the garage, Beatrice was surprised that it looked to be closed, or at least on the verge of closing. The roller door at the front was half pulled down and the lights inside weren’t on, which was odd considering that it was well into dusk and the heavy cloud cover made the setting particularly dark.
“Oh, I hope he’s…” Beatrice said to herself as she hopped from the car. It was still drizzling overhead and she did her best to ignore the damp droplets that flicked at her face and dampened her hair. Luckily, she was dressed in the very simple flowery dress and a sweater so it wouldn’t be the end of the world if these things got wet.
It was just as she started toward the half-closed garage door that the drizzle that had been slightly annoying, very quickly changed to full drops of rain. They began to fall thick and heavy, soaking the three ladies to the bone before they even had a chance to register what was happening.
“Quick,” Beatrice screamed as she rushed for the garage, ducking under the roller door and into the safety of the room. A second later she was joined by Sophie and Stella; both equally as wet as she was.
Shaking the rain from herself, Beatrice scanned the inside of the garage for any signs of life. It was a pretty small space really, only two cars in the garage, and Audi and an old Toyota with only the Toyota looking as if it was being worked on. This was a small town though, so the odds of the mechanic being busy were slim. Which was a good thing, as Beatrice was in a bit of a rush.
“Ooooooh, nice car,” Sophie cooed as she made her way to the Audi. Beatrice hadn’t noticed before, but now saw that Sophie was still carrying the container of brownies, absentmindedly nibbling on them as she walked.
“Sophie. The brownies,” Beatrice pleaded. But Sophie didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, she popped open the front door to the Audi and climbed in as if she were about to drive it.
"It's closed lady," a rough voice suddenly cut through the room. Beatrice turned and spotted who she assumed to be the mechanic, stepping out of his office. The mechanic struck quite the imposing figure. He was well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a thick black beard covering a hard face.
"Lady?” Beatrice asked, instantly taking offense to the statement and tone. She didn’t care how intimidating he was, or tried to be. There were some things that Beatrice just didn’t take sitting down. “Is that what you call customer service? In my day ..."
"Lady, in your day, dinosaurs ruled the earth," he shot back as he wiped his dirty hands on an even filthier rag.
Beatrice saw red. If there was one thing that she didn’t put up with, it was pure rudeness. Especially from this horrid, beast of a man. Beatrice used to be a teacher too and was more than accustomed to dealing with these types of people. "I beg your pardon —"
“Look. We’re just having a little engine trouble,” Stella cut in, stepping in front of Beatrice and toward the large mechanic. “If you can just, please, take a look, that would be so much help.” As she reached him, she touched him lightly on the forearm, giving it a soft squeeze.
Beatrice couldn’t help but smirk at this. So many times, Stella’s… talents, had gotten them out of a bind. She just had a way with members of the opposite sex that Beatrice had never been able to understand, but was more than willing to take advantage of. And even with the drenched hair and running mascara, she still struck quite the figure, especially considering how see-through her white blouse was.
“Like I said, we’re closed,” he sneered at Stella, completely immune to her charms. Stella instantly recoiled as the mechanic pulled out his phone, checking the screen. His eyes popped open when he saw what must have been the time. “Look, I’ve got to go. So, if you could all just —"
“Buddy, is it ready?” A voice called from the half-open garage door.
“Oh right, yes, Ms. Parker. It’s changed and ready to go,” he said, checking the time on his phone again as he hurried across the room.
“Good,” Ms. Parker said, strutting toward the blue Audi sitting in the garage. ”I didn’t want to have to wait for… excuse me?” Ms. Parker, at the Audi now, had to stop herself from getting in as Sophie still sat in the front seat. She looked down at Sophie with a level of disgust usually reserved for rodents and insects.
Sophie, looking like a guilty dog caught peeing on the carpet, meekly climbed from the front of the car, even holding the door open for Ms. Parker, who shot Sophie another look of disgust before climbing in.
Ms. Parker was considerably younger than Beatrice, maybe in her mid-thirties. She had long brown hair, sharp eyes and a pointed nose that made her look like she was constantly sneering.
In the front seat now, she turned the key and hit the accelerator; roaring the car to life. She then let off a long and loud beep of the horn, directed at Stella who stood idly in front of the car. Another beep however, she quickly hurried out of the way with maybe a second to spare as the moment that there was room, Ms. Parker hit the accelerator and took off; the roof of the car clearing the doorway by a fraction of an inch.
“Well that was rude,” Beatrice scoffed, staring at the space where the car had been. “Now, where were we…” she began, turning to talk to the mechanic, only to see that he had disappeared completely. “Where did he…”
“Oh no!” Sophie cri
ed.
“What? What is it?” Beatrice asked, panicked.
The look on Sophie’s face was one of utmost desperation. “The brownies. I left them in the front seat,” she said, hanging her head.
Beatrice sighed to herself. She had only herself to blame as she knew by now that it was never a good idea to leave baked goods around Sophie. If she didn’t eat them, she dropped them, and if she didn’t drop them she lost them. Case in point.
“That’s OK Sophie. I can just make some —
Beatrice was suddenly interrupted by a very loud crashing noise, coming from down the road. In the silence of the afternoon it echoed into the garage like a clap of thunder.
"Goodness, what was that?" asked Stella, turning back to look out of the garage.
Beatrice was no expert, but she was sure she knew exactly what had made that noise. “I don’t know, but it sounded like a car crash,” Beatrice said, rushing for the exit to the garage.
2
From where she stood, at the entrance to the garage, all Beatrice could see was a pillar of smoke billowing from the base of a large tree. The smoke wound its way up from its source, engulfing the large tree trunk in its entirety.
“There!” Beatrice yelled, pointing toward the tree which was just visible in the distance.
The tree was a good half of a mile down the road and although Beatrice couldn’t see exactly what the source of the smoke was, she was sure that it was a crashed car. At least that was what the previous noise indicated.
Without hesitating, Beatrice hurried across the driveway toward her parked car. If it wasn’t too late she could get there in time maybe she could help whoever was involved in the crash. She threw open the front door, stuck the key in the ignition and nothing. It sputtered and groaned but refused to start.
“Ughhhh,” Beatrice said, hitting the wheel in frustration.
Without waiting, she jumped from the front of the car and scanned the area again for the mechanic, in case he somehow magically reappeared and would offer a lift. It would be much faster than running the whole way, but of course, he wasn’t; he had completely vanished. As such, Beatrice had to resign herself to sprinting the entire way instead. She just hoped that she wasn’t too late.
Case of the Burned Brownies Page 1
