Sweets And Secrets Cozy Mysteries 02 - Loaf or Death Read online

  LOAF OR DEATH

  A.R. WINTERS

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Cakes and Mistakes

  Sneak Peak: Innocent in Las Vegas

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Loaf or Death

  Copyright 2020 by A. R. Winters

  www.arwinters.com

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  I had always enjoyed my mornings at Aunt Betsy’s bakery, but this particular day was extra special.

  I’d been smiling since I walked through the door and found myself humming along to one of the songs from the 1950s that was playing over the speakers as I slid another tray of delicious-looking sugar cookies into the oven.

  Janelle, the head baker, raised an eyebrow as she passed by with a mixing bowl full of dough. “Someone is awfully chipper today. I would have thought it was your birthday with the way you’ve been carrying on this morning.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure I’d be this excited for my own birthday, actually. But I’ve never gone all out like Aunt Betsy does for hers. I can’t wait to see what she does for decorations tonight—and I already know the food is going to be delicious!”

  “That goes without saying.” Janelle grinned. “Once you’ve set the timer on that oven, I think you’d better head up front and see if your aunt needs any help with the new trainee.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” I nibbled at my lip. “I’d forgotten that she hired a new cashier.”

  The part I didn’t say out loud was that today was probably the worst possible day to train someone new. Aunt Betsy has always been laid-back, easygoing, and easy to work for in general. But with her sixty-first birthday celebration happening later that evening, there was just so much to do in such a small amount of time that it would have no doubt been a little overwhelming for a newbie.

  It was a lot for me, and I had already been helping out at the bakery for months.

  I closed the oven door and set the timer before grabbing a broken cookie from one of the finished trays on the cooling rack.

  Delicious.

  Even the busiest days had their perks.

  Thankfully, it was early enough that the front of the bakery wasn’t too hectic. Betsy and a dark-haired girl who couldn’t have been past her early twenties both looked up from the cash register when I walked through the swinging doors from the kitchen.

  “Jean!” Aunt Betsy’s face lit up. “I thought I heard you back there earlier. Meet Kimberly, our newest cashier. I think she’s going to do a great job.”

  “Great to meet you, Kimberly.” I walked over and gave her a warm smile and a handshake. “You’re starting on a busy day, but you must be doing a good job to have already earned such high praise”

  Kimberly’s cheeks flushed a light pink color as she returned my smile. “Thank you. There’s a lot to learn, but I love everything about baking, so I’m really looking forward to it.”

  I waited as Betsy sent Kimberly off on a short break and then followed my aunt over to her favorite corner table where she liked to sip her coffee and make sure all of the customers in the dining area were being taken care of.

  And I was pretty sure it also helped that she could hear most of the gossip at the surrounding tables from that particular vantage point.

  “Did you want some coffee, dear?” Aunt Betsy took a small sip from her cup as we sat down at the table. “I showed Kimberly how to brew it just a few minutes ago, so we have a piping hot fresh pot ready to go.”

  “No, thanks. She seems like a nice girl. Is she in school?” I sat back in the chair and listened, happy for the excuse to get off my feet for a few minutes. Judging by Kimberly’s age, I figured she must be local to Reedville, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing her around town.

  “She just graduated from the university up in Seattle,” Betsy nodded. “Biology major, I believe. She’s just going to be helping me out part-time while she looks for a job in her field.”

  “Biology and baking?” I grinned. “That’s an interesting combination. So, are you excited for your big party tonight?”

  Aunt Betsy’s eyes sparkled as she nodded enthusiastically. “You know I love a good birthday party—or any party, really. And since it’s my own party, I get to have all of the people I love and all of my favorite foods.” She tossed me a wink. “The only thing I don’t like is that it only happens once a year.”

  I laughed. She was probably the only person over the age of eighteen who wished for more birthdays in a year. “Do you need any help getting things set up? Is the restaurant going to let you decorate?”

  She took another sip of coffee and smirked. “I’d like to see them try to stop me. That’s why I reserved their banquet room, though—as many decorations and cookies, cakes, and treats as I want to have. But you’ve already helped so much this morning, dear. I don’t think I’ll need you to do anything but show up on time and enjoy the party.”

  “Well, I’m more than happy to help if you change your mind.” I leaned forward and added in a conspiratorial whisper, “And I definitely don’t mind being on hand to taste test those cookies and cakes—just saying.”

  Which was one reason why I’d planned on showing up to the party a little early, whether or not she actually needed me. Plus the fact that even though she might not want to impose or take up more of my time, I knew that an extra pair of helpful hands would always be welcomed at the last minute.

  The front door of the bakery swung open and an agitated older lady stomped inside, only pausing for a moment to look around before fixing my aunt with a scowl and heading straight for us. She looked vaguely familiar, and I was pretty sure I’d seen her once or twice at the bakery talking to my aunt but never looking so disheveled and upset.

  If Aunt Betsy was bothered by the lady’s demeanor, she didn’t show it. She smiled cheerfully in the agitated woman’s direction. “Dorothy, what brings you in this morning? Did you need to borrow some flour?”

  The lady shook her head and pointed her finger at my aunt. “Don’t try to play nice and innocent with me, Betsy Williams. I know exactly what you’ve done.” She grunted. “I’m sure you’d love to loan me some flour, wouldn’t you? You probably stole some of that the last time you were in my shop too!”

  The handful of other customers in the bakery turned to look as Aunt Betsy stood up from our table and tried to direct the woman toward the kitchen. “What on earth are you talking about, Dorot
hy? Come back here and let’s talk in my office so we can—”

  “I will not move from this spot,” she interrupted, squaring her shoulders and planting her feet in place as if she thought my aunt might try to tackle her or something. “Not until you admit what you’ve done.”

  Betsy took a deep breath. She wasn’t smiling anymore, but she still sounded perfectly calm when she spoke again. “Okay, that’s fine. We can talk right here if that’s what you’d like. But I’m sorry, Dorothy, I still can’t admit to doing anything wrong when I have no idea what you’re referring to. Have I done something to upset you? You got the invitation to my party tonight, didn’t you?”

  I was doing my best to shrink away from the conversation happening in front of me, but I didn’t dare move. If my aunt needed me to help calm Dorothy down—or to help throw her out—I wanted to be nearby. But there was also the fact that I’d have to step between both women to get out of my spot in the corner, and that was something I preferred to avoid if possible.

  “Your birthday party is the last place I’ll be tonight,” Dorothy huffed. “And since you won’t come clean yourself, I’ll say it right here where everyone can hear—you stole my world famous sourdough recipe! And I know you did, so don’t even try to deny it.”

  Aunt Betsy turned and shot me an incredulous look.

  I started to rise out of my chair to come to her defense. “That isn’t true. My aunt has never stolen anything from anyone. She wouldn’t even think of doing something like that.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Aunt Betsy gave me a small, appreciative smile before turning back to Dorothy. “I don’t know where this accusation is coming from, Dorothy, but my niece is right. I haven’t stolen anything from you. The sourdough recipe we use is the same one we’ve always had. You can even go back there and ask Janelle right now if you’d like.”

  The older lady threw her hands in the air. “I knew it would be pointless to try and get the truth out of you. I’m not interested in hearing any of your employees—or your family—try to cover for you, either.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious what you’re doing. Do you think I can’t see? I refused to sell you my business, and now you’re trying to run me out of town.” My aunt tried to speak, but Dorothy held up a hand to stop her. “Save your excuses. You won’t win this time, Betsy, and I can promise you this much—as long as I’m alive, I’ll never, ever sell my place to you!”

  With one last short huff of breath, she spun on her heel and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

  For several seconds, the entire bakery was silent. I belatedly realized I was still staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed at the spot where Dorothy had been standing. I just couldn’t believe it. Not only were her accusations so ridiculous that they would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so slanderous, but I’d never heard anyone speak to my aunt like that in my entire life.

  People just didn’t seem to get angry with Aunt Betsy.

  Ever.

  Judging from the look on Aunt Betsy’s face as she slowly walked over to the table and sat down again, she didn’t know what to make of the whole situation either.

  “I don’t even know what to say,” she shook her head in disbelief. “Why would she think that I’d do something like that?”

  “Did you offer to buy her business?” I made sure to keep my voice down just in case some of the customers who were still nervously glancing in our direction could overhear us. “Not that it really matters,” I added. “Of course you didn’t do any of those crazy things she’s accusing you of.”

  “I did make an offer once.” She nodded. “But only because I was trying to help. I never…” Her words trailed off with a heavy sigh. “None of that matters right now anyway. Not when she’s this upset.”

  I felt so bad for her—and on her birthday too. Aunt Betsy was the last person who would have intentionally stirred up some crazy drama.

  “She isn’t even your actual competition.” I shook my head, my thoughts spilling out unfiltered. “I don’t understand why she would think you want her shop.”

  “Well… Adler Bakery is still a bakery, to be fair,” Betsy shrugged. “But I agree—I’ve never thought of myself as being in competition with Dorothy. Hers is more of an artisan specialty shop. And why on earth would I steal her sourdough recipe? Everyone in town would know!” The corners of her lips twitched in what would have been a smile under any other circumstances. “I don’t know that it’s world famous, but everyone around here does know Dorothy’s Golden Sourdough.”

  I snickered. “Well, they say it’s a small world… But seriously, what are you going to do? We can’t let her keep going around saying these awful things about you.”

  “No…” She shook her head and sighed again. “We can’t let her do that.” With a resigned look, she stood back up from the table. “I’m going to take a little walk and give Dorothy a chance to cool down. Then I’ll go over there and straighten things out with her.”

  I stood up and gave my aunt a quick hug. “Good luck. I think you might need it.”

  She finally gave a genuine smile. “Thank you, dear. I think you might be right. I just hope she’ll listen to reason. If not…” She grimaced. “I don’t even want to think of how ugly this could get.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  I had planned on arriving early to Aunt Betsy’s party, but I could tell by the number of cars in the restaurant parking lot that it was already in full swing by the time my parents and I made it there.

  My dad grinned as we got out of the car and walked up the Main Street sidewalk to the front door of the restaurant. “Betsy sure knows how to gather a crowd. I think her guest list gets longer every year.”

  Mom laughed. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she brings enough cakes and pastries to feed the whole town.”

  It was true. The smell of cake and chocolate chip cookies in the air was making my stomach rumble as we walked through the restaurant to the private banquet room that Aunt Betsy had reserved for her party.

  After seeing and helping to make some of the night’s sweet treats, I’d made sure to eat as little as possible in preparation for the rest of the day. Not to save on calories or anything, but because I planned on sampling a little bit of everything before the party ended.

  We’d barely made it into the large room before my dad pointed toward the buffet table. “If you two need me, that’s where I’ll be for at least the next half-hour.”

  I laughed. Between the line that had already formed and the generous number of dishes being offered, thirty minutes was barely an exaggeration. More than worth the wait, though, as far as I was concerned.

  Mom was already moving in the opposite direction. “Save a spot in line for me, Tim. I’m going to say hi to Betsy and let her know we’re here.”

  I followed my mom, picking up random bits of conversation as we moved slowly through the crowded room. Reedville gossip doesn’t normally interest me—and I can usually count on either my mom or my aunt to fill me in on anything important—but today was different.

  The name I kept hearing over and over in hushed tones was one that had unfortunately become familiar to me earlier that morning.

  Dorothy Adler.

  Mom turned and looked back over her shoulder with a frown. “It seems like everyone is talking about how that dreadful woman accosted your aunt earlier,” she whispered. “I hate that it had to happen at all, but especially on Betsy’s birthday. I hope everyone is at least considerate enough to let her enjoy her own party.”

  My stomach clenched, and not just from the hunger pains that I still hadn’t been able to satisfy. “I hope so too, but I can feel the tension in the air. I’d be shocked if Aunt Betsy hasn’t noticed it.”

  The crowd parted just enough for me to catch a glimpse of my aunt. Even from at least twenty feet away, it was clear that she hadn’t been enjoying the evening as much as she should have. Sure, she was smiling, but I knew her well enough to see through it. It was fo
rced, just like the little burst of laughter I could hear as we moved closer.

  “Happy birthday!” I put on my own forced smile and gave her a hug once we had finally made it through the sea of people. “They’re going to have to call the fire marshal if many more people come in.”

  Aunt Betsy laughed, and a genuine grin spread over her face. “I do hope everyone is having a nice time. And I really hope they get all of the gossip out of their systems before Dorothy gets here. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed about what happened this morning.”

  Mom pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Jean told us about that incident. Dorothy should be embarrassed by the way she acted. You would have been completely justified in telling her she wasn’t welcome here tonight, in my opinion.”

  “No, no.” Aunt Betsy shook her head. “I don’t want any drama associated with my party. Besides, I smoothed everything over with her earlier. She’ll be along any minute, and we’ll have some cake, we’ll make a toast… It’ll all be water under the bridge.”

  “Did you really offer to buy her bakery, though?” Mom asked. “I know it’s always busy at your place whenever I drive by, but I didn’t have any idea you were thinking of expanding.”

  Betsy sighed. “I really wasn’t thinking of expanding, but…” She leaned in and lowered her voice a little. “You know Dorothy’s had her bakery for, well, forever. But I think as she’s gotten older, she’s become a little more set in her ways and a little more, ah…”

  “Cranky,” I offered, earning an amused look from my aunt.

  “That’s certainly one word for it, yes,” she continued. “And even though her artisan breads are still delicious, there’s no denying that the quality has slipped in the past few years, probably a result of cutting costs once her business started to fall off.” Betsy shrugged. “I really just made the offer as a way to help her out. I never expected her to be so offended.”

  It seemed to me that Aunt Betsy had probably dodged a bullet when that deal fell through, but I decided it was probably for the best if I kept my opinion to myself. It was nice that she had tried to help Dorothy, but then to be publicly accused of stealing—and right there in the middle of Betsy’s own bakery?