Chapter 2 A Pinch of Reluctance
Mia Rossi had always believed that a good bakery should smell like happiness.
That morning, The Honeycomb Bakery smelled like lavender, honey, and fear.
The festival had been canceled.
The colorful banners still fluttered outside, but the cheerful music was gone. The tables that had been filled with pastries and handmade goods stood abandoned beneath the pale afternoon sun.
Inside the bakery, Sheriff Briggs had turned Mia's cozy little shop into a crime scene.
Deputies moved quietly between the tables. Customers were gone. The front door was locked.
And Harrison Finch was still lying beneath a white sheet near the dessert counter.
Mia stood behind her counter with Gingersnap pressed against her ankles.
She wished she could rewind the morning.
Back to the cake.
Back to Chloe teasing her about making the cake look expensive.
Back to the smell of lavender and honey.
Anything but this.
"Ms. Rossi."
Mia looked up.
Sheriff Briggs stood on the other side of the counter.
His notebook was open.
His expression was firm.
"What?"
"I need to ask you a few more questions."
Mia sighed.
"I already told you everything I know."
"Then this shouldn't take long."
She glanced toward the clock.
It felt as though the entire day had disappeared.
"I have a bakery to run."
Briggs raised an eyebrow.
"A man is dead."
"I know."
"Then perhaps the bakery can wait."
Mia pressed her lips together.
She knew he was right.
She just hated that he was right.
"Fine."
Briggs flipped a page.
"You said Harrison Finch spoke to you this morning."
"Yes."
"Exactly what did he say?"
"He asked about the Lavender Honey Dream Cake."
"And?"
"And he said he had heard about my bakery."
"Anything else?"
"He said he would decide whether he wanted a sample."
Briggs wrote something down.
Mia watched his pen move.
"That's it."
"You didn't argue with him?"
"No."
"You weren't angry with him?"
"No."
"You didn't have any reason to dislike him?"
Mia almost laughed.
"I barely knew him."
Briggs closed the notebook.
"Good."
Mia blinked.
"Good?"
"Stay that way."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you should let us do our job."
Mia stared at him.
"I wasn't trying to do your job."
Briggs glanced toward the overturned spice jar that had been placed inside an evidence bag.
"Then don't."
Mia followed his gaze.
"That jar was strange."
"What jar?"
"The spice jar. The one Gingersnap found."
Briggs's face became impatient.
"We're examining it."
"I know, but I think—"
"Ms. Rossi."
His voice stopped her.
"You own a bakery."
Mia's cheeks warmed.
"Yes."
"You bake cakes."
"Among other things."
"Cupcakes. Frosting. Pastries."
Mia stared at him.
"Yes."
"That's what you should concentrate on."
There was something in his tone that made her feel about twelve years old.
She folded her arms.
"Are you suggesting I'm incapable of noticing something suspicious?"
"I'm suggesting you leave police work to the police."
"I wasn't trying to investigate."
"Good."
"I was just telling you what I saw."
"And we heard you."
Mia looked toward Chloe.
Her friend stood several feet away, organizing boxes that didn't need organizing.
Chloe caught Mia's eye.
Her expression said everything.
Don't say anything.
Mia swallowed her irritation.
"Fine."
Briggs nodded.
"Good."
He turned to leave.
Mia couldn't resist.
"One more thing."
He stopped.
"The spice."
Briggs sighed.
"What about it?"
"Gingersnap wouldn't stop pawing at it."
Briggs looked down at the cat.
Gingersnap was sitting beneath the counter, tail wrapped neatly around his paws.
He looked completely innocent.
"I've heard cats are curious," Briggs said.
"So have I."
"Then perhaps he was curious."
Mia stared at him.
"Perhaps."
Briggs walked away.
Mia watched him go.
Chloe approached slowly.
"Well."
Mia exhaled.
"Don't."
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were absolutely going to say something."
"I was going to say that Sheriff Briggs seems charming."
Mia gave her a look.
"Charming?"
"Like a wet sock."
Mia almost smiled.
Almost.
Then her eyes drifted toward the covered body.
Her smile disappeared.
She lowered her voice.
"Chloe."
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I should be worried?"
Chloe's expression softened.
"Worried about what?"
Mia didn't answer immediately.
She looked around the bakery.
The display cases.
The ovens.
The cake.
Everything she had built.
"I don't know."
Chloe squeezed her arm.
"You didn't do anything."
"I know."
"Then stop worrying."
Mia nodded.
She wanted to believe her.
She really did.
A deputy approached the front counter.
"Ms. Rossi?"
"Yes?"
"We need to inspect your records."
"My records?"
"Customer orders. Ingredient purchases. Anything related to today's festival."
"Of course."
Mia reached beneath the counter.
Her fingers found the worn leather cover of her recipe book.
She pulled it out.
The book had belonged to her grandmother.
It was old, thick, and battered from years of use.
Mia kept most of her important recipes inside it, including the original notes she'd made while developing the Lavender Honey Dream Cake.
She placed it on the counter.
"Here."
The deputy picked it up.
"Thank you."
Mia suddenly remembered something.
"Actually, I need that."
He paused.
"Why?"
"The cake recipe is in there."
"Why do you need it now?"
"Because I have to remake the cake."
The deputy stared at her.
"Today?"
"Eventually."
Mia sighed.
"Look, it's my business. I need to keep working."
He handed it back.
Mia tucked it against her chest.
As she did, the recipe book slipped.
"Oh!"
She tried to catch it.
Too late.
The heavy book struck the floor.
Pages fluttered open.
Loose papers scattered across the tiles.
Mia groaned.
"Perfect."
She crouched down.
Chloe helped gather the papers.
"Careful," Mia said. "Some of those are old recipes."
Gingersnap appeared immediately.
Of course he did.
He came trotting from beneath the counter, tail held high.
"Not now, Gingersnap."
The cat ignored her.
He sniffed one of the fallen papers.
Then another.
Then he nudged a small torn piece of paper with his nose.
Mia reached for it.
Gingersnap put one paw on it.
"Gingersnap."
He stared at her.
"Move."
He didn't.
"Seriously?"
The cat blinked.
Mia gently moved his paw.
"Thank you."
She picked up the little piece of paper.
It wasn't a recipe.
It was a corner of a napkin.
A torn corner.
Mia frowned.
There was writing on it.
Black ink.
Two lines.
A date.
And a time.
October 14 — 7:30 P.M.
Mia stared at it.
Something about the handwriting looked familiar.
She couldn't place it.
"What's that?" Chloe asked.
"I don't know."
Mia turned the fragment over.
Nothing.
She looked at the writing again.
The numbers were oddly neat.
The letters had a distinctive slant.
She had seen that handwriting somewhere.
Recently.
But where?
"Maybe it's one of your notes," Chloe suggested.
"No."
"An order?"
"I don't think so."
Mia looked around.
The sheriff was speaking with one of his deputies near the entrance.
She lowered her voice.
"It looks like Harrison's handwriting."
Chloe's expression changed.
"Are you sure?"
"No."
Mia folded the napkin fragment.
"I don't even know why I think that."
Gingersnap sniffed her hand.
Then he nudged the folded paper again.
Mia looked down.
"You really like this thing, don't you?"
Gingersnap meowed.
"I don't know what it is."
Another meow.
"Yes, I know you think it's important."
Gingersnap blinked.
Mia smiled despite herself.
"You're just being nosy."
She placed the napkin fragment on the counter beside her recipe book.
She had barely done so when Sheriff Briggs called her name.
"Mia."
She looked up.
"Yes?"
"One more thing."
He approached slowly.
"We've been going through Harrison Finch's belongings."
Mia's stomach tightened.
"Okay."
"We found notes concerning several businesses participating in the festival."
Mia waited.
Briggs looked at his notebook.
"Your bakery was one of them."
Mia's heart skipped.
"What kind of notes?"
"Reviews."
"Reviews?"
He nodded.
"Harrison had been preparing his assessment of The Honeycomb Bakery."
Mia swallowed.
"And?"
Briggs hesitated.
"Apparently, he wasn't impressed."
Mia felt the blood drain from her face.
"What does that mean?"
"He intended to publish a review."
"What kind?"
Briggs looked directly at her.
"A very negative one."
The bakery seemed to become suddenly smaller.
Mia stared at him.
"How negative?"
"Scathing."
The word landed like a stone.
Chloe stepped closer.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not."
Mia looked toward her Lavender Honey Dream Cake.
The cake she had spent weeks perfecting.
The cake she'd believed might finally put her bakery on the map.
Harrison Finch had already decided he hated it.
Or worse.
He had decided he hated her bakery before he even tasted it.
"Why?" Mia asked.
Briggs shrugged.
"Maybe he didn't like your food."
"He hadn't even tasted it."
"Maybe he had other reasons."
Mia's eyes narrowed.
"What other reasons?"
"That's what we're trying to determine."
He closed his notebook.
"Which brings us back to you."
Mia felt a chill.
"Me?"
"You had something to lose if that review came out."
"I had a business to lose."
"Exactly."
Chloe stepped forward.
"That's ridiculous. Half the town would have had something to lose if Harrison wrote a bad review."
Briggs looked at her.
"Perhaps."
Then he turned back to Mia.
"So I'm going to ask you again."
His voice was quieter now.
"Did you have any reason to want Harrison Finch dead?"
Mia stared at him.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Did you threaten him?"
"No."
"Argue with him?"
"No."
"Have anyone else threaten him on your behalf?"
"Absolutely not."
Briggs studied her face for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
"All right."
He stepped away.
Mia's hands were shaking.
She hated this.
She hated the questions.
She hated the suspicion.
Most of all, she hated the fact that a part of her was beginning to wonder whether she should be suspicious too.
She looked toward the napkin fragment.
The date.
The time.
October 14.
7:30 P.M.
Why had Harrison written it?
And why had it ended up inside her recipe book?
Mia reached for it.
Before she could pick it up, Gingersnap stretched across the counter and nudged it with his nose.
The paper slid several inches.
Mia caught it.
"Gingersnap."
The cat looked at her.
"What?"
He gave a soft chirp.
"You've been acting strange all day."
Gingersnap sat down.
He stared at the napkin.
Mia stared at the cat.
Then the paper.
Then the cake.
She shook her head.
"Whatever this is, it's probably nothing."
She tucked the napkin fragment into the back of her recipe book.
A safe place.
Out of sight.
Out of the way.
She had no idea that she had just hidden one of the most important clues in the entire case.
Outside, the festival remained eerily quiet.
Sheriff Briggs and his deputies began carrying evidence boxes toward the door.
Mia watched them.
She wanted nothing more than to forget the entire day.
She wanted to close the bakery.
Go upstairs.
Make tea.
Curl up on the sofa with Gingersnap.
And wake tomorrow to discover that all of this had been some terrible dream.
Instead, she looked at the empty dessert counter.
Harrison Finch had been murdered there.
Someone had poisoned him.
Someone had had a reason.
And now Mia knew something she hadn't known that morning.
Harrison Finch had been preparing to destroy her bakery's reputation.
She looked down at Gingersnap.
The cat was watching her with those bright, unreadable eyes.
Mia sighed.
"Come on."
Gingersnap followed her toward the kitchen.
"I am not investigating this."
He meowed.
"I'm serious."
Another meow.
"I mean it."
Gingersnap's tail flicked.
Mia stopped.
"Besides, Sheriff Briggs made it very clear."
She glanced toward the front door.
"Cupcakes and frosting."
She shook her head.
"I make desserts. I don't solve murders."
Gingersnap followed her into the kitchen.
Neither of them noticed the small corner of the napkin peeking from the recipe book.
Neither of them knew that the date written on it would matter.
Not yet.
For now, Mia had only one thought.
She wanted her old life back.
But somewhere in Crystal Cove, a killer was counting on her staying out of the way.
And Mia had just become much more interesting to them.