Baking is Murder (A Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mystery) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 1) (10 page)

Jessie pulled to a stop at the address a couple blocks from Lydia Mackenzie’s kennels. She’d borrowed Aunt Bee’s old Camry. Now she wished her aunt had invested in a hybrid or at least something with a quieter engine. She felt very conspicuous on the quiet street. She turned off the lights and killed the engine.

“This is it,” she whispered, getting out of the car.

She clenched and unclenched her fists as she walked up the well-maintained driveway. Part of her hoped her hunch was wrong; the other part hoped it was right. In reality, though, there was no happy ending. A woman had been murdered. And another woman had been framed.

Jessie tried to focus on the café as she reached the front porch and stood outside. There was a light on somewhere in the back of the home. Jessie prayed that it was only a security light and that the house was vacant. She turned and looked behind her. To her dismay, she couldn’t even see the street in the darkness.

Taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, Jessie raised her hand and knocked sharply on the door.

At first there was no response, but then a light came on in the hallway. Jessie’s heart began to race out of control. Was she making the biggest mistake of her life here?

“Can I help you?”

A slim man stared down at her from the top step. He wasn’t how she’d pictured him. The photographs of Lydia Mackenzie had shown a woman with a wide smile who had clearly loved life. Her husband seemed the opposite to that description—pinched and resentful.

“Can I come in?” she whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “You a reporter?”

She shook her head. “No. I was a friend of Lydia’s.”

His features pinched together even more, it seemed to Jessie. “What is it you want? I’ve been through all this with the police.”

She took a deep breath and stared up at him, trying to gauge his state of mind. All of a sudden she was overcome with doubt. What had she been thinking? And what on earth was she going to do now? What if he saw through her ruse?

“I’ve got a memory book here that a few of us girls were putting together,” she said, her voice shaky.

He stared at the notebook she pulled from her pocketbook. “It looks like a kid’s journal to me.”

She forced a smile. “It doesn’t look like much. But we’ll pretty it up. We just wanted her to know how much she meant to us. Will you sign it? I know you’ve probably got your own memorial in mind, but it would be nice to have everyone’s kind messages together.”

Jessie felt frozen to the spot as she replayed her own words in her mind. She had never been a good actor. She hoped—no, prayed—that her words were convincing.

He glared at her, muscle twitching in his jaw. “We were divorcing.”

Jessie shrugged. “I’m divorced from my ex-husband. But we’re still on good terms.” Good,
non-speaking
terms, she could have added.

He took the book from her and flicked through the pages. “You’ve only got a handful of notes in here.”

She nodded, relieved that she’d had the foresight to fill in some messages from imaginary acquaintances. “It’s my first night off since… since it happened. I’ve only been to three houses so far. One of those had no one home. That’s another thing—I don’t know all of her friends so I was hoping you might be able to complete my list.”

Without another word he turned and walked back into the house. “Come in then. What’s your name?”

“Jessie,” she said, following him into the house. She looked around. “You have a lovely home.”

He grunted in response. Jessie was heartened to see him rummaging in a drawer and pulling out a pen. She looked around the lounge. It struck her as odd that there were no photos or other mementoes—she knew from the police file that they’d been living in that house for over a decade.

She stared down at her feet. Now that he’d taken the book, she had nothing to do but wait. And that made her nervous. She didn’t know whether to sit or stand. What would a normal guest have done? She looked up to see that he had vanished into the kitchen. Her heart leaped into her mouth.

What’s he gone in there for? He could have just sat at the table to write.

Jessie looked around frantically, wondering what had possessed her to do this. Why couldn’t she just have gone home and watched a movie?

“You know, she never mentioned a Jessie.”

The coldness of Lloyd Mackenzie’s voice startled her. She looked up with a surprised gasp.

Jessie shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. “I haven’t known her long. Just since last month.”

She looked at the open book in his hands and her stomach flipped over. The page was empty. Whatever he’d been doing in the kitchen, he hadn’t been writing a note in Lydia’s book.

“Just write whatever comes into your head. That’s what we’re all doing,” she said quickly. “It’s good to get your feelings out on paper.”

He took a step closer. Jessie fought the urge to step back and maintain the distance between them. But she was already beside the wall—there was nowhere else for her to go.

“You want to know what I think?”

Jessie opened her eyes wide and shrugged, holding her open palms out beside her in the universal gesture of openness and trust. “What?”

He came closer and closer until there were only a couple paces between them. Jessie tried to remain calm, but the look of menace in his eyes was unmistakable. She had gone there on a hunch, but there was no doubt remaining in her mind now.

“I think you thought you could outsmart me. You thought you’d come in here with your prop and trick me.”

Jessie shook her head. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lydia didn’t have a friend called Jessie. I’d have known about you if she did.”

“We were new friends. We…”

But he wasn’t listening. He lunged for her like a wild animal, wrapping his hands around her neck. Jessie tried to pull them away but he was too strong.

“Please,” she said, her voice strained and high from the air being cut off to her lungs.

And then everything went black.

Mayor Stevens stood in front of Jessie, hands on his hips. He looked angrier than she’d ever seen him.

Jessie shrugged. “The paramedics say I fainted from shock. My throat is fine—the cops arrived before he could do any damage.”

Mike shook his head, gritting his teeth. He opened his mouth to speak several times, obviously thinking better of it. He paced away. Finally, he came back to her side.

“You shouldn’t have done it, Jessie. It was careless.”

She wrapped the foil blanket around her shoulders. “The chief knew what I was doing. We had it all planned out.”

It didn’t seem to make a difference to Mike. “You could have been killed. Did you think about that?”

Jessie looked away. “I knew the chief would come in if things got ugly.”

Mike hissed through his teeth.

“Oh come on now, Mike,” Chief Daly said, joining them. “I was a little skeptical at first, I’ll admit. But it was a good idea. Got him off the streets a hell of a lot faster than we would have using the normal channels.”

Mike rubbed his temples. “The legal channels, you mean?”

The chief glanced around to see who was listening and then leaned closer, lowering his voice. “There was nothing illegal about this. I knew that guy was a slippery character. If we’d asked him for a writing sample, do you think we would have gotten an accurate sample? Plus he had two alibis. No, we needed to flush him out.”

“How did you even know it was him?”

Jessie sighed. “When I saw the handwriting didn’t match Clarice’s, I knew it had to be somebody Lydia Mackenzie knew. Because why else would they think to frame Clarice? It stumped me for a while, I have to admit. But then I remembered something.”

“Go on.”

“Lloyd Mackenzie had two alibis from that night; two guys who’d spent the entire afternoon and evening drinking with him in Dukefield.”

Mike shrugged. “So? There’s no law against that.”

“I know that,” Jessie said. “No, it was a detail I’d forgotten until I thought of something my mom always used to say to me.”

“He was diabetic. I was there one morning in the Bakehouse when Aunt Bee and Julia were talking; I think it was the day after the murder. They discussed how he’d always been very quiet. Apparently, when he was diagnosed with diabetes, he became even more unfriendly. Get this: he’d go to the washroom to do his insulin; then he’d come back, quickly eat and storm out straight away.”

Mike frowned. “So?” he said slowly. “Just cause he’s a moody guy doesn’t mean he’s capable of murder.” He glanced at Chief Daly, who was grinning widely. “I don’t know what you’re looking so pleased about.”

Jessie shook her head. “No, you’re not getting it. His diabetes. That’s the key here. He used to go in the back to inject his insulin. Now, if he was out in a bar for an entire day, don’t you think he’d have had to go and do his insulin at least once? More, I’m guessing, if he needed to counter the effects of alcohol.”

Mike stared at her blankly.

“His alibi,” the chief said. “
Both
his alibis said they were with him for the whole time. Now, if that were a regular situation, you might expect them to notice if their friend had disappeared for a half hour. But in this guy’s case, his friends were probably so used to him popping to the men’s room for prolonged periods right before he ate that they didn’t even bat an eyelid this time. All he had to do was slip out the back door to the parking lot and jump in his car.”

Jessie shook her head. She still couldn’t believe it. But it was all over now.

Mike sighed. “You could have been killed,” he said again.

The chief clamped a huge arm around Mike’s shoulder. “Not on my watch, Mike. That animal is never going to hurt anyone again.”

Mike sighed and made his way over to the lone TV crew on the edge of the driveway. The chief watched him go.

“What got up his nose?” Jessie groaned. She was surprised by the mayor’s reaction—she had expected him to be happy that she’d managed to find out the truth, but instead he was acting like a bear with a sore paw.

To her surprise, Chief Daly turned to her and smiled. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” she asked, shivering. The evening cool had given way to nighttime chill. That, coupled with the adrenaline leaving her body, was making it impossible for Jessie to get warm.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to your aunt.”

Jessie shivered again—for a different reason this time. “Can we maybe not tell her what happened?”

The chief cringed. “I think it’s a little too late for that,” he whispered, before darting off in the opposite direction.

“Aunt Bee, I didn’t—”

Her aunt drowned her out. “What in the name of all that is good, Jessie Henderson? I mean, really? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

She was about to ask how Aunt Bee had found out, but she knew that was a thoroughly pointless question. The woman seemed to know everything about everyone.

“I just wanted to do the right thing.”

Aunt Bee glared at her, her hands fidgeting by her sides. “I have a good mind to put you in that car and send you to bed without your dinner.”

Jessie couldn’t help but laugh, despite the serious look on her aunt’s face. “Aunt Bee, I’m a thirty-seven-year-old woman. You can’t—”

“I can do anything I want,” Bee snapped, stepping closer. “And if you do anything like that again, so help me…”

Jessie folded her into her arms. “Now,
that
I can promise. I’m sorry for worrying you, Aunt Bee. I just couldn’t bear to see an innocent woman locked away.”

Bee let out a tremendous sigh. “Oh, honey. I was so worried. You scared me. I know you did it for the right reasons. But still. If anything had happened to you…”

Jessie shook her head. “It’s all over now,” she whispered. “Let’s go get your boyfriend and go home.”

Bee pulled away from her and glared. Jessie stifled a smile. She was glad she’d held on to that little nugget for as long as she had.

Jessie held her breath. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but something seemed different about this cupcake mixture. It was more fluid than it had ever been before. She crossed her fingers as she mixed as lightly as she could. She was so deep in concentration that she didn’t notice anyone enter the kitchen until Tania cleared her throat.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

Jessie glanced down at her work-in-progress in dismay, torn between speaking to her visitor and seeing her work through to the end.

Tania smiled. “You look just like Ms. Martin when you do that. Don’t worry—I can finish that for you.”

Jessie smiled gratefully and hurried to the sink to wash her hands. She wondered who it might be—Julia had already been in for their daily coffee and chat, and Mike didn’t usually stop by to say hello until the lunchtime rush was over.

She dried her hands and smiled. She’d been in Springdale for less than a month, but already it was beginning to feel like she’d spent her whole life there.

She pushed opened the door to the café and looked around, wondering who had asked to see her. She’d gotten to know many of the regulars by now; Even Jane Waverly was acting a little more civilly than she had at first.

But she never would have expected this.

“Clarice,” she exclaimed.

Clarice smiled. It had taken Jessie a moment or two to recognize her at first. She looked a million miles away from the woman she’d met at the police station.

“I wanted to come and say thank you. Really, words can’t express my gratitude.”

Jessie smiled. “It was a pleasure. I’m glad I could help.”

Clarice shifted and Jessie saw that she was holding something in her hand. She couldn’t make it out, though—the countertop was blocking it.

“I’ve got something for you.” She held her hand out.

Jessie followed her hand. Her first thought was ‘you’re giving me a length of cord?’ But then her brain registered the plastic top of the retractable leash and the furry bundle attached to the other end. Her mouth fell open.

“Toby?” she gasped, confused and delighted in equal measure.

Clarice nodded, a small smile twitching at the corner of her lips. “It’s the least I could do.”

Jessie dashed from behind the counter and reached for him, heart pounding as she told herself not to get too excited because it must be a misunderstanding. “But I thought you’d already found a family for him?”

Clarice sighed. “I had. But being arrested for murder tends to put some people off.”

Jessie tore her eyes away from Toby to look up at her. “But you were cleared,” she said, surprised to see that Clarice looked utterly unconcerned by this prejudice.

“Some folk don’t see it that way,” she said breezily. “Luckily for me, they’re in the minority. And lucky for you, it was Toby’s family and not one of my other clients.”

Lucky indeed
, Jessie thought, unable to resist pulling Toby close for a squeeze.

“You’re serious about this?” she said breathlessly.

Clarice nodded. “I know you’ll take good care of him.”

***

“I take it you’re staying, then,” Aunt Bee said neutrally when she spied the brand new doggy bed in the corner of the café.

Jessie stopped wiping the counter and looked over at her. “That was my plan all along. I didn’t want to say for sure until I’d spent a little time here.”

“And now?”

She smiled to herself. “I love Springdale every bit as much as I thought I did.”

“Even after a murder.”

Jessie thought about it. It gave her chills to think of Lloyd Mackenzie and the way he’d schemed and waited until he found an opportunity to frame somebody else for his wife’s murder. Clarice and Lydia’s falling out at the dog show had been all the opportunity he’d needed.

Aunt Bee came up behind her and patted her back. “He’s behind bars now. Where he belongs.”

Jessie nodded. “He is. And Clarice is free.”

Bee smiled. “You know, she’s changed a lot since she got out. She’s happier. Freer, it seems. She came and spoke to me about what you did.”

Jessie smiled. “It’s what anyone would have done.”

Bee shook her head. “Don’t play down what you did. I’m proud of you. You really put your neck on the line, going head-to-head with the chief.”

“Well that was never going to be an issue, was it? Not when you’ve got a direct line to him.”

Bee’s eyes narrowed but she was still smiling widely. “What did I tell you about giving me lip? I’ll have none of that, you hear?”

Jessie shook her head. “I’m just teasing. He’s a lovely man. And I’m glad you’re happy with him.”

Bee shrugged. “I was always happy. I love this place.”

Jessie opened her mouth to say something and then stopped.

“What is it, child?”

“Well, you asked me if I was going to stay. But I’m wondering if that’s what you really want? You do love this place and I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.”

It was true. Jessie had gone into the move thinking she’d be looking after Aunt Bee. The reality was Aunt Bee could take care of not just herself, but half the town of Springdale. Jessie could think of nothing she wanted more than to spend the rest of her life there, but she didn’t want to do that if she was going to be a burden to Aunt Bee. She said as much.

Aunt Bee threw her head back and roared with laughter. “Oh darling. It’s been a dream to have you here. Of course I want you to stay, despite your cheeky mouth and your total inability to do what you’re told. I only wish your cousin would do the same.”

“You’re sure?” Jessie said, glancing up from under her eyebrows.

Aunt Bee threw her hands up in exasperation. “Of course I’m sure. I love this place with all my heart, but you know what? It’s nice to take the afternoon off once in a while. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your police work, that is.”

Jessie giggled. There had been a time in her life when she’s been utterly terrified of Aunt Bee. She’d though her aunt was the most serious, severe person on the planet. How had she failed to see that the older woman positively sparkled with dry wit and good humor? Sometimes Jessie thought her aunt was a mischievous little girl hiding in the body of a woman in her sixties.

“That was a once off. The chief has made that quite clear. I’ll stick to baking from now on. You know, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

Bee rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh dear. I’d better put up a sign to warn the customers.”

Coming soon! A long-time Springdale resident is found murdered… and Jessie Henderson is the main suspect…

Don’t miss Book 2 in the Bee’s Bakehouse mystery series!

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