One Cup Of Flour Two Cups Of Murder (Winnona Peaks Mysteries Book 2) (2 page)

Chapter 4

Selling coffee?  What was he thinking?
Round one of the bake-off was over and something hit him in the gut like someone swung a bag of rocks at his stomach.  Gregory Binks didn’t know what he was doing in Winnona Peaks.  This was just supposed to be a sleepy little town where he could sell a few cups of coffee and try to get his head on straight again.   He’d grown up in Winnona Peaks and then served in the military.  After fulfilling his duty to his country, he moved around a bit and finally ended up as a homicide detective for the Dallas Police Department.  He was used to non-stop action and people shooting at him. The problem was even though it sounded really glamorous in the T.V. shows, sometimes the bad guys went free and wrapping up the crime scene before the final commercial was just not reality.

He finally snapped when the D.A. let a case go on a technicality, a case he had put years into trying to stick as a solid bust.   He hadn’t crossed any lines, but there was at least one instance of an extremely terrified jaywalker who they had to pay damages to for mental duress.  Gregory saw the look on his captain’s face that day and decided it was time to walk away from the force. 

The first few weeks off of the force he didn’t know what to do.  He couldn’t be a security guard for anyone; that was just too humiliating.  He eventually just devolved into a zombie following a cycle of eating, sleeping, and working out. As a record holding pass receiver for the Winnona Wolves football team, Gregory loved the gym and conditioning, probably part of why he went into the military.  He used to tell himself the gym was to work off the stress of the bad guys, only to come to find out he just loved to work out. 

He didn’t dress to show off his physique, but he didn’t hide it easily.  He always stood with the cool confidence ingrained in him, first by his father and then the Marines. He was just a straight arrow that had lost his way. He always smelled of the same aftershave his Dad used, found at every pharmacy for a cheap price, and it suited him just fine. If he didn’t overdo it, he thought he smelled great.  He knew it was hip to grow a beard, but it just wasn’t his style.  There were days though when he considered it; he had a jet black five o’clock shadow by noon every day. It’d been hard to give up the smoking so he chewed gum like crazy and his jaw muscles rivaled his biceps.

He was not into making a fashion statement; in fact, nothing about him was a fashion statement.  He preferred a navy polo shirt and khakis and, without a woman in his life, that outfit became his new uniform mostly every day.  Though sometimes he switched it up a bit and changed to an olive green polo. 

The operative words there were “without a woman in his life.” The one woman who inspired him to change it up and wear a Winnona Wolves t-shirt was across the lot covered in flour and giggling with her sister.  There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by that he didn’t regret the way he broke up with Christy.  They were head over heels in love, but he was a stupid kid that thought being macho was more important than a girlfriend.  He let his buddies talk him into signing up for the Marines, which he was going to do anyway.   He was just a stupid jock that let his friends convince him he wasn’t supposed to let a woman tell him what to do.  Christy was afraid when he told her about the Marines and he just got up and stomped out.  She tried to call him, but he never returned the calls and when he got back from Pendleton on leave, he was a different person.  Christy was in the middle of taking care of her sick grandmother and they hadn’t spoken since.  Well, at least until a few weeks ago when that guy was murdered at her bed and breakfast.

It started a few weeks ago when he decided that he needed a change.  He couldn’t be a zombie forever just working out and not living his life.  He decided to return to his old stomping grounds to recover a bit and turn over a new leaf.  He went into the coffee business, but he had to keep telling himself that’s what he did now—he just sold coffee.  The problem with his new life plan was he hadn’t factored in running into Christy Roberts again. 

Gregory watched as Vanessa and Christy were chatting in the fairgrounds parking lot.  He was unloading supplies out of his van for his espresso cart he was tending at the contest and approached them with his arms full of paper coffee cups, pretending not to be so obvious.  The two sisters were so involved in their task though, they did not even see him at first.

He’d helped Christy Roberts solve a murder at her bed and breakfast right before he opened his coffee shop and he thought they might be able to pick up where they left off, but it became clear that she was a poster child for the phrase, “awkward silence,” every time he hinted around that they should go out to dinner.   Most people thought him to be a tough guy with all his weightlifting, but as he approached a female he started chanting to himself,
don’t be a dork.  Don’t be a dork
. 

~~~

“Oh, you’ll do great in the next round,” Christy said starting to walk to her car.

“No! You can’t go now!  You have to help the entire contest.  You can’t leave now.  You signed the paper work.”  Vanessa said, grabbing Christy’s forearm.

“Well, I didn’t know the paperwork said, ‘Sign your life away to Vanessa’s bakery jail.’  Hey.  Isn’t that Lily’s car?”  She pointed out.

“Yea, it is.”  Vanessa answered.  “That’s strange.”

“Come to think of it, it was here when I got here.  I just didn’t think to tell you until right now.”

“But why didn’t she check in?  I mean, why come all the way down here?” Vanessa asked.

We were just standing around, looking at the car, waiting for Lily to show up when Gregory chimed in, that perfect smile on his face. 

“Maybe it was for my coffee.” Judging from Christy’s face, he rated pretty high on the dork meter.  Punch line: fail.  He pushed on to try and cover. “Who didn’t check in?”

Vanessa looked between Christy and Gregory and rolled her eyes.  “She’s my baker, Lily Smith.” Christy was clearly a little nervous; she had one of her locks twisted around her right index finger.  “Tell him what you said, Christy.” 

Christy looked up with a flash of a smile, glanced at Gregory, and then looked at the car to avoid eye contact.  “I walked by the car this morning and noticed it was here. I was in so much of a hurry…” Christy stuttered. “I…I didn’t think twice about it.”

“Oh wow! Maybe she got a ride with someone else?” Gregory said. “So, you must be the pistol the judges have been talking about, “Gregory pointed at Vanessa as he changes the subject.

“What do you mean?” Vanessa asked.  Christy looked grateful to be off the hook. “How would you know?”

Gregory held up the coffee cups.  “You hear quite a bit when you sell coffee where there are about a million doughnuts, cookies, and pastries popping out in a day.”

“Well, what are they saying?”

“Oh, how there’s this pistol of a redhead that has Nanette Wilson ready to tear her hair out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to make her tear her hair out if Lily would have shown up.”  Vanessa countered.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.  From what I hear from the other judges, Nanette always picks someone to chew on at each contest.  Sounds like this time it was you,” Gregory stated with a witty tone.  He decided that since his dork meter was already at code red, be might as go all in.  Gulping, he asked Christy, “So I haven’t been able to give you that free cup of coffee since you have not come down to my shop.  I was hoping you could compare it to your famous French Roast and give me some pointers.”  He offered a weak smile that Christy didn’t return.

Vanessa saved her again.  “Oh, Christy’s been helping me quite a bit down at the bakery.  Between Alfie’s and the Pâtisserie, I’m surprised she’s even standing up.” Christy finally gave him a brief nod and smiled to agree with her sister.

Gregory tried to laugh it off and shrug.  “Well Christy, when you get a chance, try to stop by,” he said, clumsily dumping the cups he was holding onto the ground, trying to make a smooth getaway.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”  Christy said, bending down to help him pick them up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just a klutz today.”  They both had a brief laugh and pretty soon all the cups were back in his arms.  “Well, see you around.”  He waved as the sisters kept walking toward their car.  As he watched them walk away, all Gregory could do was shake his head at himself and mumble, “Me too. I’m sorry, too, Christy.”

Vanessa gave Christy a big shoulder bump and whispered in her ear, “What is wrong with you? He still cares, go for it Christie!”

Chapter 5

Anna Cobbler had done well for the first round.  With loose, espresso-colored curls covering her head, chocolate brown eyes, and pleasantly plump rear-end, she was the hit of the baking contest; well, that and her croissants.  Going the extra mile for the local butter from Greenspan’s Organic Farm and Dairy paid off this time.  Anna smiled to herself as she admired the first place ribbon before placing it in a box of ingredients and heading toward the exit.  It was getting late and the sky was a gentle shade of purple with the sun almost behind the horizon.

She enjoyed the competition.  Out of all the contestants, the judges narrowed down the semi-finalists to a panel of eight bakers.  The first round was a bit of a free for all since each baker was allowed to bake whatever he or she wanted. The problem with that was one year you might get a judge that loved your specialty and the next year you a judge might only liked obscure American pastries from the Civil War era.  Anna was just lucky that she knew Nanette Wilson had a soft spot for anything that sounded French.

The next round would be harder because everyone had to bake cookies. To make matters worse, the bakers had to come up with double and triple batches of the recipe because some were for the people going to the fair and some were for the judges.  Nobody would come out and say it, but the judges would watch the reaction of the crowd getting the free samples during the day and gauge a baker based on a pleased crowd. Anna was happy that her croissants edged out Vanessa Jefferson’s beignets though she knew it was not by much.   It would be much tougher when they all had to bake their cookie recipe.  It’s harder to finesse the judges with a complex pastry process when it came to cookies since the key to a cookie victory is the taste and presentation. 

All in all, she just had to take it a day at a time and celebrate the small victories.  Anna just wished that Alexander, her boyfriend, would notice the blue ribbon.  He’d helped her all day even though he was picking up extra shifts.  She loved him to death, but he had that French chef temper.  She’s just glad she hadn’t been one of his students.  Anna got a job at one of the local bakeries after she graduated as a baker and he was the consulting pastry chef on organizing the menu.   Some people thought he was boorish, but she was sure that he had to have a softer side.  She wasn’t sure if he learned this behavior when he studied in Paris or if he was always a hot head.  Trying to train under the French executive kitchen system is like being placed in a pressure cooker; people just did not understand Alexander.
If you can’t take the heat get out of the kitchen,
wasn’t just an old, worn-out adage for French chefs. 

Alexander would often talk about his students when he came home and she would try to get him to ease up on them a bit.  Nobody liked to be in tears at school.  Anna herself went home crying her first day at Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts.  She had barely yelled a peep in her life, so having to yell, “Yes Chef!” at the end of each menu session was foreign to her.  All the gesturing and ranting over scalded butter or an emulsion that didn’t go quite right really wore on her nerves.  To be honest, she went home and cried the first month of school.  She tried to tell Alexander that, but he just waved her off and started ranting about having too many women in professional kitchens.  She didn’t like to fight, so she just let him have his way; that’s what her mother taught her.

By nature, Anna was just quiet and, as her Uncle Harry described her, sweet. When he would visit, he would specifically order Anna’s cookies for dessert.  Though her mother encouraged her, her father was always distant and silent.  Maybe that’s what Anna likes about Alexander; he was silent or distant just like her dad.  He was always in her face, even if he was grumpy.  He cared about food, but she was convinced he cared about her, too.  She just wished he were more like Uncle Harry. Uncle Harry was a bright ray of sunshine that would blow into their house every couple of months as he traveled the country selling veterinary supplies to farmers and ranchers.  Anna knew it was silly, but she latched onto that ray of sunshine from the first day he made a big to-do about her cookies.  She even put a picture of Uncle Harry in her shop, Cobbler House. 

She realized the day was coming to a close as it started to get dark.  She needed to hurry so Alexander wouldn’t yell as much.  Anna really hoped the first round win would please him.  He’d left right before the judging to get some sleep in the car, leaving her to clean up.  Finally done, she was carrying a small box of ingredients and not paying much attention to where she was going as she rounded the exit turnstile, heading to her car when she knocked into a dark figure in the parking lot. “Oof! Oh, I’m so sorry!” Anna apologized.

“Anna?”

“Christy!”  Anna put down her box of ingredients and reached out to hug Christy.  “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Vanessa’s baker, Lily, didn’t show up today, so I stepped in to help. I hope you don’t mind.”  Christy smiled at Anna, crossing her arms.

“Oh, why would I mind?  Competition makes all of our bakeries better. Even if we do it because we’re in love with pastries, the challenges make us better.  Lily Smith was one of Alexander’s students.  I hope she is okay. In any case, I look forward to the challenge,” Anna said with a grin. 

Vanessa spoke up. “Yea, I’ve got to call her parents tonight.  She’s never missed an entire day.  She
loves
to bake. While we’re on the subject of love, since you’re Christy’s best friend, Anna, what do you say to this ninny for passing up on the hottest beefcake in all of Winnona Peaks?”

“What?”  Anna asked.

“Oh, stop it, Vanessa,” Christy chided.

“I will not stop it.  You two are perfect for each other and now you are acting like some junior high diva.   If you don’t start batting your eyes at him, it’s guaranteed he won’t stay single for long in this area.  He’s just too good looking.”  Vanessa continued.

“Oh, now good looks aren’t everything,” Christy said encouragingly.

“Well, I don’t see any of us beating the door down to date cross-eyed Eugene down at the hardware store.” Vanessa shot back.  “Trust me, somebody is going to put him in their sights.  The only reason someone hasn’t snagged him is that he’s still holding a torch for you.”

“I’m sure Christy has her reasons.  Not everybody is as cracked up to be what he or she shows everyone else on the outside,” Anna offered.

Christy said, “It’s true.  It’s just complicated.  We broke up right before he went to college and then the military.  We haven’t seen each other for almost thirty years and when he blew into Alfie’s that day, all those feelings came washing over me.  I thought I was over it, but―.”

“But you’d better stop watching so much daytime T.V., sis.  It’s going to your head.  When it comes to Gregory Binks, my only advice is to bag ‘em and tag ‘em.”  Vanessa replied.

Hooooonnnnnk!
All three women jumped as the car three stalls over laid on the horn.  “Get your butt over here!  I’ve got an early shift in the morning!”  It was Anna’s boyfriend, Alexander Mackey.

“What a butthead, “Vanessa said.

“He’ just under a lot of pressure lately while he teaches at Le Cordon Bleu and during the vacation breaks he picks up extra shifts in the morning to make ends meet.  I’d better go.”  Anna started walking toward the car with her head hung in embarrassment.

Vanessa stomped her foot and started to go give her a piece of her mind. “Well, he can’t talk to you that way, I’m going to―.”

“Wait!” Christy said to Vanessa.  “Let’s just all go up and say we were helping Anna to the car.  You can’t just pop off at people all the time.” 

Anna was grateful for Christy.  She really didn’t want a scene with Alexander, especially with the epic battles Alexander and Vanessa already had at the contests over the last two years.  She didn’t know where Vanessa got it, but she’s positive Vanessa’s temper would do just fine in the French executive kitchen system.  The problem was that Vanessa had this habit of insulting the French system to Alexander and they would commence to screaming and banging pots at each other. It was quite the show, mostly because Alexander towered over Vanessa.  As a chef he had sampled quite a bit of his own cooking and his neck was a solid mass from his ears to his shoulders.  His large hooknose made him a natural for understanding the nuances of a dish, but to watch the two go at it was like watching Tinkerbell argue with a rhinoceros. 

It really didn’t do well for the digestion of Winnona Peaks, although Old Man Schwab would get tickled pink every time he saw the two at the grocery store arguing over who deserved to buy the last shallot in the bin.  Anna hated it when those two went at it.  She wanted to explain that he was just a moody, sensitive man.  Anna just wanted people to see his good side.

“Well, Hello Alexander, “Christy said as they arrived at the car.  Vanessa crossed her arms and glared at him.  He got out of the driver’s side, looked Vanessa up and down and snarled to Anna, “Get in the car.  I don’t have time―.”

“Anna won first place today, you know,” Vanessa finally snapped.

“What do you want me to say?  Have a cookie?  Winning at Winnona Peaks. Wheee!!
Je m'en fiche de ces idiots!  Les gens peuvent ici pas cuisine!
” Alexander shouted.

“Now, Honey, let’s just go home.”  Anna gently cooed.  Alexander looked down at Anna and snarled.

“You think you did something today? Any one of my students could have out baked anybody here, today.  All it takes is iron discipline and timing!”  Alexander waved his arm in a grand gesture at the fairground.  He yelled it as if he was expecting the three of them to yell, “Yes, Chef!” in response.  Christy grabbed Vanessa’s wrist to get her to back off.  Anna’s silence at Alexander took the air out of his balloon. He clomped around the back of the car and slammed the passenger side door getting in.  Anna went around back to open the trunk and put her box in.  Leaning into the open driver’s door, Christy smiled and quietly said, “Wasn’t Lily Smith one of your students?”

“What of it.
Une autre idiot.
I don’t know how she ever passed.  Not an ounce of talent and she was always late to everything.  Probably got herself snatched.”  He honked the horn, again, making everybody jump.  Anna hurried to get in the car.  Christy caught her at the back bumper and whispered, “This guy is over the top, Anna.  Can’t you see how rude he is?”

Anna glanced nervously at the door and smiled, “Oh, you know how men are,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “I’ll get him home, feed him a steak, and he’ll be fine.”  With that she slipped behind the driver’s seat, started the car, and left Christy and Vanessa shaking their heads in the parking lot.

Anna needed to settle things down with Alexander so she politely asked, “So how was your day, dear?”

“Shut up and drive.  I have an early shift.”  With that he turned toward the window and fell asleep.  Anna drove home in silence into the darkening sky.