Deadly Pumpkin Slice (A Sinful Sweets Cozy Mystery) (10 page)

“You’d think they’d know. It is strange that they continue to use our services, but I’m not complaining!”

“As long as nothing else gets poisoned after we sell it!” Sydney walked into her office and was met by another surprise. “Grace!” she called, panic in her voice.

Grace walked to the doorway where Sydney was standing. The Jack-‘o-Lantern had been removed—not by Sydney, she’d been in too much of a rush to take it out the day before—and was replaced by a fully intact pumpkin, save for the knife that had been thrust into the top of it. There was no written message, but Sydney didn’t need one to get the point.

“Let’s stop by the police department this afternoon,” Grace suggested.

“Or, let me take a photo of this one too and I’ll send them both to Detective Massey. He gave me his card. . .I have it somewhere.” She rooted around in her overly large purse. She was prepared to spend the day away from home and had brought a couple changes of clothes for the various situations she expected to put herself in. “Here it is.” Sydney took a photo of the pumpkin and quickly sent a text. She included a photo of the previous threat that she’d neglected to send the day before. Her text read,
Someone is telling me to stay away from Aaron’s case. Thought you should know.

“OK. Let’s get busy.” Sydney’s demeanor changed from threatened animal to take charge business owner in an instant. She knew business would suffer if they weren’t able to get caught up after their day away and she wasn’t ready for that struggle.

Grace set to work making the 150 muffins while Sydney got coffee ready out front. She took out frozen donuts to finish once they’d thawed and then began on the 150 cheesecake squares. For these, she’d make larger cheesecakes and cut them into smaller squares once they had cooled. They both made sure to make extras of each that they could sell that morning.

They were both working with complete focus when Maple barked. Sydney looked at her watch. It wasn’t time to open yet.

“What is it Maple?” she asked, walking to the front door.

Outside, Detective Massey was patiently waiting to come in. Sydney hadn’t heard him knock, but suspected he’d tried to get her attention several times.

“Good morning, Detective. You’re in early this morning,” she greeted him.

“Morning Sydney. When I hear that there are amateur sleuths doing my job and putting themselves in danger, I can’t stay away. What’s this about threats? Do you have them still?”

“Only the pumpkin from today. I never got rid of the Jack-‘o-Lantern, but it was replaced this morning. You never saw anyone come in when you were doing your testing? What did the results show, by the way?”

“They were all negative. We’ve started pursuing some new leads. No, we never let anyone in, and never heard anyone come in. But we never went into your office either. Let’s take a look at the pumpkin from today at least.”

Sydney led him to her office, acutely aware of his eyes on her from behind. Knowing that he was targeting new suspects had her relaxed enough to be interested in the hottie following her.

“What can you tell me about this knife?” he asked when they’d reached her desk.

“It’s one of mine. Whoever did this somehow let themselves in, took a knife and threateningly stuck it into a pumpkin. It wasn’t my pumpkin though. They were both carving pumpkins and I only have pie pumpkins.”

“I’m going to have to take the knife and pumpkin as evidence. We should be able to get some fingerprints off of it. You haven’t touched it have you?”

“Not today, but I have in the past. I use it nearly daily.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll find more than your prints on it.”

“And Grace’s.”

“Right, and Grace’s.”

“Will you call me if you find anything?” she asked.

“Immediately. Is there anything else you feel you should tell me?”

“Well, last night I felt like I was being followed,” she started. She recounted her walk with Maple and the car and blond driver that seemed to be stalking her.

“Did you get the plates?”

“No. But it wasn’t a car I recognized from Twin Peaks. Or the person, either.”

She wasn’t ready to reveal all of their escapades from the previous day.

“I don’t have much to go on then, but we can have an officer parked outside your bakery if that’ll make you feel safer.”

As much as Sydney didn’t like the idea of being babysat, she did agree that it was probably a good idea. “That’d be great,” she told him.

“Let me know if anything else unusual happens this morning. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch when I have the results of the fingerprints.” Detective Massey began walking back toward the front of the bakery.

“Thank you, Detective.”

“Austin,” he corrected her.

“Thank you, Austin.”

Sydney let him out the front door and realized it was now time to keep it unlocked and get ready for business.

Her first customer was Jonah. “Morning Maple. Sydney. I missed my coffee yesterday. You OK?” he asked.

“Doing great. Just had to. . .take a personal day.” She hadn’t left a sign about the closure and certainly didn’t want everyone knowing her ingredients had been tested for poison.

“Everyone needs those once in a while,” he agreed.

“What’ll it be today?”

Jonah scanned the baked goods that were already set out front—apple cinnamon scones, blueberry muffins, pumpkin cheesecake. Sydney had toyed with the idea of offering more savory breakfasts, but hadn’t had the opportunity to expand just yet. That would likely be her next move before expanding her lunch.

“A coffee and two blueberry muffins.”

“Two? Feeling hungry today!”

“One’s for Allison.”

“She’s still around? I heard she was moved to Westhedge.” She was surprised Jonah didn’t know, as he was planning the landscaping for the Twin Peaks Library.

“She’s asked me to come out there to help plan that too!”

“That’s great! Send her my greetings,” Sydney said as she handed the muffins and coffee across the counter. “Have a great day.”

“Thanks, you too.”

Jonah was the only customer early in the morning, so Sydney took time to help Grace in the kitchen.

“Wow, the muffins are already in the oven! You’ll be finished with this order in no time!” Sydney was always impressed with Grace’s efficiency.

“I was thinking I could do more research online into the Pages and Jeffreys if you can handle the front this morning.”

“That’d be perfect. I don’t think we’ll be able to track everyone down this afternoon and should focus on Madelyn. Her relationship to Aaron is still a question.”

“I’ll dig into her more, too. There’s got to be a missing link somewhere.” Grace took out the first batch of muffins, and they were done perfectly.

Sydney heard the front bells tinkle and Maple look up to greet the next customer. She walked out front and found Ben and Ella approaching the counter.

The rest of the morning had a steady stream of customers. Sydney was thankful for that. She had to reassure everyone that she was fine and had just needed a day just for herself.

She heard her phone alert her about a text message midway through the morning, but didn’t have a chance to check it right away and had forgotten about it until they could close for the afternoon. She looked and saw that Austin had sent her a text,
Prints on the knife. Couldn’t ID them. Any ideas on who it might be?

Sydney wasn’t sure she should incriminate someone she didn’t know, and who she didn’t know all of the details about. But it was her own safety at stake.
Madelyn Kountz
, she wrote back.

Will look into her
.

“Grace, were you able to find anything? Detective Massey is checking for Madelyn’s fingerprints on the knife,” Sydney updated her when the front door was locked and she walked back into her office.

“Check this out. Just published today in the Westhedge Ledger.”

Funky Funds
, the title of the article read. Sydney took Grace’s seat at the computer and began reading.

The Westhedge Library Commission was forced to release their accounting records late last night. There had been suspicions that funds were missing from the library’s trust fund, created by Mr. Arthur Jeffreys’ late father. Lewis Page, the Commission’s accountant, turned the documents over to the police, accompanied by the following statement, ‘We’ve been tracking the missing finances for three months and have taken action to get to the bottom of it and move forward.’ The general consensus now is that the late Aaron Gibbs was stealing from the fund and fired at the end of October, just before his untimely death.

Death, Sydney noticed, not murder.

The article went on to implicate Aaron in the theft, but with no substantial evidence. She actually felt bad for him—he wasn’t here to defend himself and his name was being smeared through the dirt posthumously.

“Did you find anything else about Madelyn?” Sydney asked, turning around to look at Grace.

“Nothing that links her to his murder, but I did find something interesting out about Aaron. He had filed for a new business six months ago. It was a modeling agency. Which would explain all of the photos we found. But doesn’t explain why they were hidden in the bottom of his oven.”

“So even if Madelyn was his girlfriend, she would have known about the business and known that those weren’t his girlfriends.”

“But she used to be a model. Maybe she’s connected to this in a different way.”

“We have to talk to Madelyn.”

***

Sydney drove Maple back home before she and Grace headed back to Westhedge for a second day in a row.

“What are you thinking?” Grace asked as Sydney drove like a bat out of hell.

“I think she was his girlfriend. And that she was taking the money without him knowing.”

“But how is all of this connected to his murder? And what about those photos?” Grace asked.

“I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling she does.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way, both hoping to figure it out before they found Madelyn.

Suddenly, Sydney pulled over.

“What are you doing?” Grace asked.

“I don’t think Madelyn is in Westhedge. I think she was the driver last night, following me when I was walking Maple. I bet she’s following us. We just have to convince her to stop here.”

They had pulled over on the side of the road, barely in a pull-off. Sydney didn’t want to be in a parking lot, where her car might be missed. She turned the radio on as they waited.

Scanning the channels, she heard a report on the local NPR station talking about Aaron’s death.

“I just want those guilty brought to justice,” a woman said through tears.

“A very touching plea by Aaron’s mother. Next, we’re going to hear from longtime friend, Madelyn Kountz.”

“Grace, this is her!” Sydney nearly shouted, though Grace had already caught the name and was turning the radio up louder.

“Madelyn, thank you for joining our show today,” the host said. “This must be a very difficult time for you.”