Glazed & Confused: Murder Thieves and Buried Treasure (A Dessert First Cozy Mystery) Read online

  Glazed & Confused:

  Murder, Thieves and Buried Treasure

  A Dessert First Cozy Mystery

  by Carol Lee

  First Kindle Original Edition 2013

  A Bristlecone Book

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 Carol Lee

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author and/or publisher. No part of this publication may be sold or hired, without written permission from the author.

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  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 1

  I clicked on the light inside my small bakery. Donning my apron with the chocolate cake logo on it I set to work on the morning routine of making coffee, setting bread dough to rise and making the special sweet treat of the day. Today’s special was cinnamon rolls so before I made a batch of berry muffins, I made the dough and the drizzle for the rolls.

  No sooner had I finished putting the drizzle on the nearly plate-sized cinnamon rolls that had become a Saturday favorite, but the clock struck 5am, the door opened and my new door bell jingled to announce my first customer of the day.

  “Morning, Green Eyes,” Detective David Bentley said cheerfully.

  “Detective B, what can I get for you this morning?” I said as I wiped my hands on my signature apron with the chocolate cake logo on it.

  As I moved to the counter, he said with his best smile, “coffee and a kiss, please,” and then he leaned in and kissed me. I felt warm all over as I pulled back.

  “Well, good morning to you,” I said as I barely contained the silly grin that always spread across my face when he and I were together. We’ve been officially dating for six months, but I still felt the same “new romance” excitement with David, even now.

  “Smells like Dessert First’s Saturday cinnamon rolls,” he sniffed.

  “French Vanilla with cream and no sugar,” I said delivering the cup to the counter.

  “Right, no sugar since…”

  “You’re sweet enough without it,” I finished his favorite line for him.

  Now it was his turn to smile and he took a sip of his coffee.

  “Late night or early morning?”

  “Both. There’s been another break in. This time Rachel’s clothes shop got hit. They only got a little money, but they made a real mess of things.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible. Was there much damage to the shop?”

  “Mostly clothes pulled off the racks and she had a display table of vases that were broken.”

  “I guess it could’ve been worse. I’ll go over later on and see if I can do anything. Any leads?”

  “This time there was a shoe print, but it looks pretty generic, so it might not be much help.”

  “Is it a man or woman’s shoe?”

  “Man’s but it’s interesting that you asked because it is only a size 8, so we were thinking a teen, but it could be a woman’s smaller foot, too. Thanks Detective Dessert Lady,” he said as his phone beeped.

  “Duty calls, or beeps?”

  “Yeah. Still on for dinner tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great.” He said as he kissed me again. “Hey, you might want to tell Lizzie about the break-in so that it doesn’t come as such a shock to her.”

  “You’re right; Lizzie will be devastated if Rachel’s Rags is closed for any length of time.”

  We both laughed. Lizzie, my best friend since college, loves clothes and could accessorize anything with a flair rivaling the best clothes designers.

  “I’ll wait till she comes in a bit later so that I don’t wake her up with the bad news.”

  “See you tonight,” he waved and the door jingled.

  Alone again, I glanced at the back door to the shop and the feeble lock that it had. Then I noticed that the back door had come open. The bottles of oil seemed like they stuck out a bit from the wall. Sometimes things get moved a bit after mopping. I slid the bottles of oil back against the wall with my foot. Maybe I’d go over to the hardware store and pick up a better lock later today. I’d never worried about being robbed before because Fish Creek Falls, being a small town, had few people and held little interest for thieves. Lately, that seemed to be changing, though. Rachel’s shop had been the third business in town to be robbed in the past two weeks. It had been just petty stuff really because no one leaves much money in their stores, but the thieves took cold pills from the pharmacy in addition to the little money that they got from the register. The Sports Shop had some random equipment taken like chalk for climbing, and some camping stuff.

  David’s working theory had been a person or people who needed some money for drugs. I thought that they must be crazy to stick around a small town because there were slim pickings here to support a drug problem.

  I finished the last tray of cinnamon rolls and popped the day’s bread and rolls into the oven before the next customer arrived.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you are open dreadfully early, Myra dahling. Can I have a cup of Earl? A large one, if you please,” Rachel Anderson, owner of Rachel’s Rags, said as she approached the counter.

  “Of course. I’m sorry to hear about your shop. Rough night, huh?”

  She looked a little surprised that I knew and a bit deflated that I had stolen her thunder for her announcement.

  “Yes. What a ghastly mess they made. I don’t care about the money as much as the senseless destruction. Oh Myra, you’d just be sick to see all of the damage.”

  “Can I do anything?”

  “That’s very sweet of you dahling, but I can’t even do anything yet because it is a crime scene or some such nonsense. Oh, thank you, ever so.” She said taking a noisy sip of her tea and sighing.

  “Well, I’m sure that they won’t keep it closed off for too long.”

  “They said it will be all day today. That means we will be closed at least today and tomorrow. I’m just sick about it.”

  “There is one good thing about it, Rachel,” I said trying to cheer her up. “Think of the fabulous after break in sale that you can have.”

  “Oh, dahling, you could be on to something with that. Yes, I can see the possibilities…”

  Even though she hadn’t asked, I reached for an orange scone and put it in a small bag. Rachel loved all of my scones, but the orange ones were her most favorite.

  “At least you should keep your strength up,” I said smiling and handing her the bag.

  “You are such an angel.” Rachel reached for her purse to pay.

  I held up my hand and said, “Not today. It’s the least I can do for you right now. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “Thank you, Myra dahling. So kind.” She repeated the last part again as she left.

  I glanced at the clock—nearly six. I thought about texting Lizzie, but it was still too early for her.

  The door jingled and in came Willie. He did odd jobs around our town and some of the surrounding areas. Willie often drove a few hours for a job and had become one of the early morning regulars.

  “Morning Willie.”

  “Morning Miss Myra. Can I have a coffee and an apple muffin?”

  “Of course, but today is cinnamon roll day, so are you sure I can’t interest you in one of them?”

  “That’d be fine. Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Where are you off to today?”

  “Over to Caraway to do some painting in that lawyer Mr. Cahill’s office.”

  I froze for a second and I could feel the heat from the coffee cup in my hand. It had been about six months since Barbara’s death and Brian Cahill had represented me when I had been accused of her murder. I shuddered slightly at the memory.

  “Be sure to tell him that I said hello,” I said putting a lid on the cup and cutting a cinnamon roll with extra icing on it for him.

  “Can do ma’am.” He said.

  Willie’s face seemed a bit flushed and I realized that he too remembered Barbara. When the police weren’t focused on me as a suspect, they were on him, so we shared that unpleasant experience. I liked Willie. He kept to himself and did really nice work.

  “Have you heard about the latest break in at Rachel’s shop?”

  He shook his head.

  “Yeah, last night. I guess the thieves made quite a mess.” I brought the bag and coffee to the counter. “You might want to swing by today or tomorrow and see if Rachel needs any help with the clean up. I’m sure she’d be grateful for the help.”

  “I will stop over later. Thank you, Miss Myra,” he said and put a five on the counter.

  “Anytime.” I gave him his change and he left just as Mark, the owner of the theater, Abe Redmond, the district attorney and his wife Millie all came in at once. Morning rush, I thought.

  “Morning everyone,” I said cheerily and went about taking their orders.

  Mark ordered a dozen cinnamon rolls for something at the th
eater later today.

  “I’ll have a coffee and a cinnamon roll and my wife will have a cup of tea and a roll, as well,” Abe said. Millie nodded and smiled. Usually, Millie said very few words and rarely came in without her husband.

  As the Redmonds were paying for their breakfast, the door opened and in came Joe Rice, the butcher in town. Joe “The knife” had once been a professional fighter and after he retired came to Fish Creek Falls and opened the butcher shop. I didn’t really know him all that well. He seemed pretty quiet at the Main Street Merchants meetings for the shop owners and because I didn’t buy too much fresh meat, I didn’t go into his shop much. I loved baking, but cooking meals never had been my favorite. Since I’d been making my cinnamon rolls as a Saturday special, he’d been coming in without fail.

  “Morning everyone,” he said as he came to the counter.

  “Morning, Joe. Cinnamon roll? Coffee?”

  “You bet. Two rolls today, please,” he said and held up two beefy fingers to emphasize the point. The Medic Alert bracelet peeked out of his sleeve. Joe had a peanut allergy. He’d asked me when I first opened about how much peanut oil I used and in what items so he could steer clear of potential harm.

  “You got it.”

  As I made his coffee and bagged his cinnamon rolls, he and Abe exchanged pleasantries. I waved as they were leaving, but Millie stopped at the display case where I placed the custom orders of birthday, wedding and other occasional items.

  “So, are you going to the merchants meeting on Monday?” Joe asked as I folded the top of the bag over.

  “I plan to go.”

  “Well,” he said as I brought his order over. “I hope I can count on you for the vote about the revitalization project.”

  Millie and Abe stayed at the display case, but said nothing.

  “Count on me in what way?” I asked as I made change for the twenty that he’d placed on the counter.

  “I think we should slow down on the campaign to get more businesses in town. We need to allow the businesses here to take hold and to grow. We don’t need more congestion in town. People come to a small town to get away from the hustle and bustle and to keep a low profile.”

  “A few more businesses in town could be a good thing so that people can get what they need close by and not have to drive to Caraway or even all the way to North Lake for supplies and services.”

  “So you’re siding with the ‘townies’ then?” Joe said with a sneer that I hadn’t ever seen before.

  “I’m not sure that there are really sides exactly,” I said a bit unsure of what to say or do. It seems a casual question was turning into something a bit more intense.

  “Hmph. I guess I should’ve expected to be Ms. Peacemaker,” he glared, but didn’t elaborate.

  “I think I’ll probably listen to the plans and the pros and cons before I make a final decision,” I said.

  “I am trying to tell you about the cons, Myra. You would see the deterioration of the town with too much new business. Traffic will be a new problem, parking; even unsavory people may begin to move into the town. Mark my words; it is bad for Fish Creek Falls and those of us who enjoy the small town environment.”

  I tried to think of something to say to smooth things over, but it seemed that he wanted to be mad no matter what I said.

  “Well, judging by your attitude, you’ll be siding against me. I guess I have wasted my breath on you.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Joe, I said that I would listen to the plan and the different aspects of it and I meant it. I will do what I think is best and it is not personal in anyway.” My voice got a bit higher because I’d gotten upset that he made me sound so closed-minded.

  The door opened and in came Lizzie. “Hi MB! How are you this fine morn...?” she stopped in her tracks at the scene of Abe, Millie and Joe staring at me.

  No one spoke and she stopped near Millie and Abe.

  “Well, it is personal because I asked you for your support, but you refused me.” He lowered his voice, “No one crosses me, you’ll see.” He tossed the bag of cinnamon rolls back at me and stormed out of the shop.

  “Wow, what was that about, MB?” Lizzie said and moved toward the counter.

  “It seems that Ms. Bailey is making friends in town,” Abe said trying to sound jovial. “Don’t worry, he’ll calm down—eventually that is.”

  The Redmonds left and Lizzie came behind the counter with me.

  “So, what happened with Muscles?”

  “I’m not really sure to tell you the truth. He asked me about the merchants meeting and how I planned on voting for the new business initiative and…”

  “He freaked over your answer, huh?” She picked up a cinnamon roll and took a big bite.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure why. The whole thing is still in the talking phase, we haven’t even decided on any PR stuff or a ad campaign or anything.”

  “So does he want to expand or stay small?” She mumbled through another bite of cinnamon roll.

  “He wants the town to stay as is. Maybe I should bring him his cinnamon rolls this afternoon and make up.”

  “What? He behaved badly and you are going to bring him cinnamon rolls? You’re nuts, MB.”

  “No, I’m not. I don’t want a conflict with him. The town is too small to have a grudge develop—even if it expands at some point,” I handed her a paper towel to wipe the icing off her face.

  “I’ll go just after I close up.”

  “I can come back later to close up for you. Doesn’t Joe close his shop earlier than yours on Saturday?”

  “I’m not sure,” I grabbed my phone and looked up his hours. “You’re right. He closes at two on Saturdays. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Me? Mind—no, anything to get you moving in time so we can get going in time.”

  “In time for what?” I asked totally clueless about what she was talking about.

  “You are so kidding me, right?”

  “Absolutely. So tell me anyway,” I smiled sheepishly.

  “You really have forgotten? Oh MB, you are too much.”

  I shrugged.

  “Fine. Tonight is the regional Elite Fashion Show in North Lake with the designers that have almost made it in New York City.”

  I looked blank.

  “Honestly. I’m not sure why I’m your friend. You will come with me still, right?”

  I just blinked.

  “They’ll be serving a three course dinner,” she said looking at me like she would a dog while holding a treat.

  “Three courses, huh? Well, in that case, I’d love to go,” I smiled.

  She threw the paper towel back at me. The door jingled and three people dressed in white coveralls entered. There were two men and a woman.