Chapter 5 A Sour Conclusion
Mia Rossi spent most of the night thinking about handwriting.
She lay in bed with the lights off, staring at the ceiling while the sounds of Crystal Cove faded outside her window.
The threatening letter.
Julian's note.
The same slant.
The same narrow letters.
The same distinctive way he formed his capital J.
She had seen enough.
At least, she thought she had.
Harrison Finch had threatened Julian's vineyard interests.
Julian had admitted they had a bitter business disagreement.
Julian had been in Mia's bakery shortly after Harrison's murder, offering sympathy and wine as though he hadn't a care in the world.
And now there was a threatening letter in Harrison's belongings that appeared to be written in Julian's hand.
Mia rolled over.
"This is ridiculous."
Gingersnap was curled at the foot of the bed.
One golden eye opened.
Mia looked at him.
"Don't."
The eye closed.
"I'm not investigating."
Silence.
"I'm just thinking."
Gingersnap's tail flicked.
Mia sighed.
"Fine. I'm investigating."
The cat remained perfectly still.
Mia stared into the darkness.
"Julian Vance killed Harrison Finch."
Saying it aloud made the thought sound more serious.
More real.
And somehow, more frightening.
She closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, she would tell Sheriff Briggs.
Then she would be done with it.
Morning arrived far too quickly.
Mia entered The Honeycomb Bakery before sunrise.
She unlocked the front door, switched on the lights, and immediately began preparing coffee.
She needed something strong.
Something bitter.
Something capable of forcing her brain into working order.
Chloe arrived twenty minutes later.
She took one look at Mia.
"You didn't sleep."
"Not much."
"Why?"
Mia hesitated.
"I think I know who killed Harrison."
Chloe froze.
"No."
Mia frowned.
"No?"
"No, as in, we're not doing this again."
"I'm serious."
"So was Sheriff Briggs."
"I have evidence."
Chloe placed her bag beneath the counter.
"What evidence?"
"The threatening letter."
"The one Sheriff Briggs found?"
"Yes."
"What's it got to do with Julian?"
"The handwriting."
Chloe stared at her.
Mia pulled out the note Julian had left after bringing the wine.
"Look."
Chloe examined it.
Then the copy of the threatening letter Mia had written down from memory.
"Okay."
"Look at the J."
"I see it."
"And the way the letters lean."
"Maybe."
"And the spacing."
"Mia."
"What?"
"You think Julian wrote the threatening letter."
"I know he did."
Chloe folded her arms.
"That's not the same thing as knowing he killed Harrison."
Mia opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Chloe was right.
But Mia had already connected the pieces in her mind.
"Julian had a motive."
"So did half the town."
"He had the handwriting."
"Maybe."
"He had a feud with Harrison."
"Yes."
"And he brought me wine."
Chloe blinked.
"How is that evidence?"
"It isn't."
"Exactly."
Mia sighed.
"Fine."
Chloe smiled.
"Good."
Mia picked up her coffee.
"I'm going to the sheriff."
Chloe groaned.
"Mia."
"Just to tell him what I know."
"That's investigating."
"I'm helping."
"That's the same thing."
Mia grabbed her coat.
"I'll be back."
Sheriff Briggs was not pleased to see her.
Mia knew that immediately.
He was standing outside the Crystal Cove Sheriff's Office, speaking to one of his deputies, when Mia approached.
He looked at her.
Then at the folder in her hands.
Then back at her.
"No."
Mia stopped.
"You don't even know what I'm here for."
"I have a good idea."
"I think I know who killed Harrison."
Briggs closed his eyes for a moment.
"Of course you do."
Mia's confidence faltered.
"I have evidence."
"Let's hear it."
Mia opened the folder.
"Julian Vance."
Briggs stared at her.
"You've been investigating him."
"I've been paying attention."
"Mia."
"He had a motive."
"Yes."
"He had a dispute with Harrison over the vineyard."
"Yes."
"He admitted that."
"Yes."
"And the threatening letter found in Harrison's belongings looks like Julian's handwriting."
Briggs was silent.
Mia felt a tiny surge of triumph.
"See?"
"See what?"
"You know I'm right."
"No."
Her confidence vanished.
"What?"
"I know you've found something worth checking."
"But—"
"That doesn't make Julian the murderer."
Mia pulled out Julian's note.
"Compare them."
Briggs took it.
He studied both pieces of writing.
"I already did."
Mia blinked.
"You did?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"They are similar."
Mia's heart lifted.
"Exactly."
"But similarity isn't proof."
"It could be his handwriting."
"It could."
"And he had a motive."
"Yes."
"And he was angry with Harrison."
"Yes."
"So—"
"So we checked his whereabouts."
Mia stopped.
Briggs's expression remained calm.
"Julian Vance was at Vance Vineyards when Harrison died."
"How do you know?"
"His employees saw him."
"Employees can lie."
"They can."
Mia felt her pulse quicken.
"Then how do you know?"
Briggs reached into a folder.
"He recorded himself."
Mia stared.
"What?"
Briggs pulled out a tablet.
He tapped the screen.
A video appeared.
Julian stood inside a large stone building surrounded by wine barrels.
The timestamp was visible in the corner.
Mia watched.
Julian was speaking to two employees.
The timestamp continued.
7:14.
7:18.
7:23.
7:30.
Mia's stomach dropped.
7:31.
7:35.
The video continued.
Julian remained there.
Exactly when Harrison had died.
Mia stared at the screen.
"That's..."
"An alibi."
She swallowed.
"Maybe the video was edited."
"We checked."
"Maybe someone else was pretending to be him."
"We checked that too."
Mia felt the folder become heavier in her hands.
"So you already knew."
"Yes."
"And you still let me come all the way here."
"You came all the way here."
Mia looked down.
Her cheeks burned.
Briggs softened slightly.
"Mia, I understand that you want to help."
"I do."
"But you're not a detective."
"I know."
"Then stop trying to solve a murder with handwriting and hunches."
Mia flinched.
"They weren't just hunches."
"Your handwriting comparison was useful."
She looked up.
"It was?"
"Yes."
Her hope returned for half a second.
Then Briggs continued.
"But it doesn't prove what you think it proves."
"What does it prove?"
"That Julian may have written the threatening letter."
Mia's heart sank.
"Then someone should ask him why."
"We will."
"Who?"
"I will."
"When?"
"When I have time."
Mia stared at him.
"People are going to forget about this."
"No."
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
Briggs put the tablet away.
"You own a bakery. You're worried about your reputation. You're frightened. You want someone to blame."
Mia's face tightened.
"I'm not frightened."
Briggs gave her a look.
"You should be."
She said nothing.
"Someone murdered Harrison Finch," he continued. "Until we know why, everyone connected to him is worth looking at."
"Even me."
"Especially anyone who was near him."
Mia looked away.
"I didn't kill him."
"I know."
The answer came so quickly that she looked back at him.
Briggs sighed.
"I don't think you killed him."
"But you think I might know something."
"I think everyone knows something."
Mia folded the papers.
She suddenly felt very foolish.
"Fine."
Briggs nodded.
"Go back to your bakery."
Mia's jaw tightened.
"Right."
"Cupcakes and frosting."
She stared at him.
He didn't smile.
Mia turned and walked away.
The walk back to The Honeycomb Bakery felt longer than usual.
Crystal Cove looked different.
The same streets.
The same ocean breeze.
The same brightly painted storefronts.
But Mia felt as though everyone could see the word amateur written across her forehead.
She had been so certain.
She had marched into the sheriff's office convinced she had solved the murder.
And within minutes, Sheriff Briggs had dismantled her entire theory.
Worse, he had already known about Julian's alibi.
Mia pushed open the bakery door.
The bell chimed.
No customers.
No Chloe.
Just silence.
She walked behind the counter and dropped her folder onto the wooden surface.
"Brilliant."
She removed her coat.
"Absolutely brilliant, Mia."
Gingersnap appeared from the kitchen.
He walked toward her.
"Don't."
The cat stopped.
Mia sank onto a stool.
"I thought I had it."
Gingersnap blinked.
"I had the motive."
He sat down.
"The handwriting."
His tail wrapped around his paws.
"The feud."
Mia rubbed her face.
"And now?"
She looked around.
"Nothing."
Gingersnap stared at her.
"I'm back where I started."
The cat stood.
He jumped onto the counter.
Mia barely noticed.
Then—
Crash.
Mia looked up.
A glass jar had fallen onto its side.
Lavender spilled across the counter.
"Gingersnap!"
The cat froze.
He looked at the mess.
Then at Mia.
Mia stared at him.
"You knocked it over."
Gingersnap meowed.
"What were you doing?"
Another meow.
Mia stood and grabbed a cloth.
"Honestly."
Gingersnap stepped closer.
He meowed again.
Mia wiped the lavender into a small pile.
"Not now."
Meow.
"I don't want to investigate anymore."
Meow.
"I don't care about the jar."
Meow.
"I don't care about Julian."
Gingersnap stared at her.
Mia swept the lavender into her palm.
"I'm tired."
The cat meowed insistently.
Mia looked at him.
"What?"
Gingersnap nudged the spilled lavender.
Mia stared.
For a moment, she wondered whether there was something he wanted her to see.
Then she shook her head.
"I'm sorry."
She gathered the lavender and poured it back into the jar.
"I know you're trying to help."
Gingersnap meowed.
"But I can't."
The cat sat beside the jar.
Mia returned to her stool.
Her shoulders sagged.
She had wanted answers.
Instead, she had embarrassment.
She had wanted justice.
Instead, she had suspicion.
And she had wanted to believe she could help.
Sheriff Briggs had reminded her that she wasn't a detective.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe she should do exactly what he'd told her.
Bake.
Serve customers.
Mind her own business.
Let the police solve Harrison Finch's murder.
Mia looked at the Lavender Honey Dream Cake recipe.
The recipe she had been so proud of.
The recipe that had been sitting in the same bakery where a man had died.
She closed her eyes.
"Back to cupcakes and frosting."
Gingersnap meowed.
Mia didn't look at him.
"I mean it."
Another meow.
She sighed.
"Please."
The bakery fell quiet.
Outside, the Pacific breeze moved through the streets of Crystal Cove.
Somewhere beyond the windows, Harrison Finch's killer was still free.
Mia didn't know who it was.
She didn't know why Harrison had been killed.
She didn't know what the strange date on the napkin meant.
And she certainly didn't know why Gingersnap had been so interested in that overturned spice jar.
For now, all she knew was that Julian Vance wasn't the answer.
Her first theory had collapsed.
And the bitter taste it left behind was difficult to swallow.
Mia looked at the cat.
"I'm done."
Gingersnap stared at her.
But he didn't seem convinced.
Neither, deep down, was Mia.