Chapter 9 A New Crime is Baked
The next morning, Mia Rossi woke with a strange feeling.
Something was wrong.
She couldn't explain it.
There was no dead rat outside her door.
No threatening note.
No stranger standing across the street.
The Honeycomb Bakery looked exactly as it always did.
Yet Mia couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.
She made coffee.
Gingersnap sat on the kitchen counter watching her.
"Don't start."
The cat blinked.
"I know that look."
Gingersnap's tail curled around his paws.
Mia poured herself a cup.
"You think I should investigate."
Meow.
"You've been watching too many mysteries."
The cat blinked again.
Mia smiled.
"Come on."
She opened the bakery.
Within minutes, the familiar smells of butter, sugar, cinnamon, and fresh bread filled the shop.
For a while, everything felt normal.
Then Sheriff Briggs walked through the door.
Mia knew immediately that it wasn't a social visit.
His face was grim.
"What happened?"
"There's been a break-in."
Mia's stomach tightened.
"Here?"
"No."
He looked toward the street.
"The sheriff's office."
Mia stared.
"Someone broke into the sheriff's office?"
"Last night."
"What did they take?"
Briggs hesitated.
"The evidence from Harrison Finch's case."
Mia's heart dropped.
"What evidence?"
"The napkin fragment."
She froze.
"And the threatening letter."
Mia stared at him.
"Both?"
"Both."
"Nothing else?"
"Not that we can tell."
She felt a chill.
"Who would break into a sheriff's office just for two pieces of paper?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out."
Mia thought of the threat on her doorstep.
STOP SNOOPING OR YOU'LL BE NEXT.
She swallowed.
"Do you think it's connected?"
"We don't know."
"But the person who broke in knew exactly what they wanted."
Briggs nodded.
"That's what worries me."
Mia looked toward Gingersnap.
The cat was sitting near the window.
He was watching the sheriff.
Mia turned back.
"What are you going to do?"
"Investigate."
Mia almost smiled.
"Funny."
Briggs gave her a look.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing."
He sighed.
"I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
"Did you tell anyone about the napkin?"
"No."
"Anyone at all?"
"I told Chloe."
Briggs wrote it down.
"And the threatening letter?"
"You knew about that."
"I mean anyone else."
"No."
He closed his notebook.
"Good."
Mia frowned.
"Why?"
"Because whoever took those items wanted them gone."
She looked toward the street.
"Why?"
"Maybe they were afraid of what we'd find."
Mia's mind immediately returned to the overturned spice jar.
The one Gingersnap had found.
The one Sheriff Briggs had taken for testing.
She remembered the strange label.
The dark brown powder.
The way Gingersnap had reacted.
She looked at Briggs.
"What about the spice?"
His expression changed.
"The spice jar?"
"Yes."
"We're still waiting on the laboratory results."
"When?"
"Soon."
Mia nodded.
But something about it bothered her.
If someone had broken into the sheriff's office to steal evidence, what were they trying to hide?
The napkin.
The threatening letter.
What did those two things have in common?
Nothing obvious.
Unless—
Mia's eyes widened.
"The spice."
Briggs frowned.
"What about it?"
"Maybe the person who broke in didn't want the papers connected to the spice."
Briggs stared at her.
Mia continued.
"The napkin has a date."
"Yes."
"And the letter mentions the vineyard."
"Yes."
"But neither explains how Harrison was poisoned."
Briggs said nothing.
Mia looked toward the kitchen.
"The spice could."
An hour later, Mia found herself standing inside the sheriff's office.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
At least, that was what Sheriff Briggs had said.
But after the break-in, he had agreed to let her look at the evidence room from the doorway.
Mia brought Gingersnap with her.
Briggs had objected.
"Why is the cat here?"
"He helps me think."
Briggs stared at her.
"He's a cat."
"He's a very intelligent cat."
Gingersnap meowed.
Mia pointed toward him.
"See?"
Briggs sighed.
"Just keep him away from everything."
"I will."
Gingersnap immediately walked toward a desk.
"Gingersnap."
He stopped.
The sheriff's office looked different after the break-in.
A drawer had been forced open.
Papers were scattered across a desk.
One cabinet door hung crookedly.
The evidence locker had been opened.
Mia stared.
"Someone really did this."
"Yes."
"They knew where to look."
"Yes."
"They knew exactly what to take."
"Yes."
Mia turned toward Briggs.
"That means someone familiar with the case."
"Possibly."
"Someone who knew about the napkin."
"Or someone who had access to the evidence inventory."
Mia nodded.
Her mind raced.
She walked slowly through the room.
"What about fingerprints?"
"We're processing everything."
"Security cameras?"
"Someone disabled them."
Mia stopped.
"Of course they did."
Briggs looked at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She turned toward the window.
Gingersnap had stopped moving.
He was staring outside.
His ears were forward.
His body was completely still.
"Gingersnap?"
The cat didn't look at her.
Then he meowed.
Loudly.
Mia walked toward him.
"What is it?"
Another meow.
Gingersnap pawed at the window.
Mia looked outside.
A dark-colored sedan was parked across the street.
It looked ordinary.
Except for one thing.
It had been there since they arrived.
"Do you know that car?"
Briggs came closer.
"No."
Gingersnap meowed again.
He pressed his nose against the glass.
Mia squinted.
"There's someone inside."
The driver's head moved.
Mia leaned closer.
Then her stomach dropped.
"Greg."
Briggs looked at her.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
The man in the driver's seat was unmistakably Harrison Finch's assistant.
Greg.
He was sitting behind the wheel, watching the sheriff's office.
Mia's heart began pounding.
"Why is he here?"
Briggs reached for his radio.
But before he could speak, Greg started the car.
The sedan pulled away from the curb.
"He's leaving!"
Briggs hurried toward the door.
Mia grabbed Gingersnap.
"Wait!"
The sheriff stopped.
"What?"
Mia pointed.
"Look."
Across the street, the sedan had stopped again.
Greg had rolled down his window.
He looked directly at the sheriff's office.
Then at Mia.
For one long second, their eyes met.
Greg's face was unreadable.
Then he drove away.
Mia stared after him.
"That wasn't normal."
"No."
"Why was he watching us?"
Briggs picked up his radio.
"I'll find out."
Mia looked down at Gingersnap.
The cat was staring at the empty road.
"You knew."
Gingersnap meowed softly.
Mia's mind returned to the festival.
Greg arguing with Harrison.
Greg lying about his whereabouts.
Gingersnap hissing at him.
And now Greg watching the sheriff's office immediately after the evidence had been stolen.
The pieces weren't proof.
But they were beginning to point in the same direction.
"Briggs."
The sheriff looked at her.
"What?"
"Could Greg have taken the evidence?"
"Could he?"
"Yes."
"Technically."
Mia swallowed.
"But would he?"
"That's what we're going to find out."
Back at The Honeycomb Bakery, Mia couldn't concentrate.
She measured flour incorrectly twice.
She burned a tray of cookies.
She forgot to answer a customer's question.
Chloe finally took the measuring cup from her.
"Okay."
Mia looked at her.
"What?"
"You need to sit down."
"I'm fine."
"You just put salt in a bowl of powdered sugar."
Mia looked at the bowl.
"Oh."
Chloe crossed her arms.
"What happened?"
Mia told her everything.
The break-in.
The missing evidence.
Greg.
The car.
Gingersnap's reaction.
Chloe listened silently.
When Mia finished, she said, "That's bad."
"Very."
"Do you think Greg killed Harrison?"
"I don't know."
"But you think he's involved."
Mia looked toward the window.
"Yes."
Gingersnap was sitting in the sunlight.
He looked peaceful.
Mia shook her head.
"I keep thinking about that spice jar."
"The one he found?"
"Yes."
"What about it?"
Mia opened the drawer where she'd written down everything she remembered.
"The label said nutmeg."
Chloe frowned.
"Nutmeg?"
"Yes."
"So?"
Mia hesitated.
"I've heard that too much nutmeg can be poisonous."
Chloe stared at her.
"Poisonous?"
"In large amounts."
Mia remembered the overturned jar.
The dark brown powder scattered across the floor.
The evidence bag.
Harrison's body.
"What if that's what killed him?"
Chloe's face paled.
"You think someone poisoned him with nutmeg?"
"Maybe."
"Wouldn't the police know?"
"Maybe they're still testing it."
Chloe looked toward the kitchen.
"So the person who broke into the sheriff's office could have been trying to destroy evidence connecting them to the murder."
Mia nodded.
"The papers might connect to the motive."
"And the spice connects to the method."
"Exactly."
Chloe stared at her.
"That's terrifying."
Mia nodded.
"It is."
Gingersnap suddenly lifted his head.
He looked toward the bakery door.
Mia followed his gaze.
Nothing.
Just the empty street.
She sighed.
"Maybe I'm imagining things."
Chloe shook her head.
"No."
Mia looked at her.
"You're not."
That evening, Mia stood alone behind the counter.
She looked at the empty bakery.
The broken quiet of Crystal Cove seemed to press against the windows.
Someone had killed Harrison Finch.
Someone had threatened her.
Someone had broken into the sheriff's office.
And someone was apparently desperate enough to steal evidence.
She picked up her notebook.
Under Harrison Finch's name, she wrote:
MOTIVE — UNKNOWN
METHOD — POSSIBLY NUTMEG
OPPORTUNITY — UNKNOWN
Then beneath that:
GREG — LYING
JULIAN — ALIBI
BEATRICE — SECRET HISTORY
She stopped.
Her pen hovered over the page.
Then she added:
WHO IS HIDING WHAT?
Gingersnap jumped onto the counter.
He looked at the notebook.
Then at Mia.
She smiled.
"I know."
The cat blinked.
"Something is happening."
He purred.
Mia closed the notebook.
The case had changed.
It was no longer simply about finding who hated Harrison Finch.
Someone was actively trying to erase the truth.
And now Mia knew what they might be trying to erase.
The evidence.
The poison.
The motive.
She looked toward the dark window.
"Whoever you are..."
Gingersnap's ears twitched.
"...you made one mistake."
Mia stroked his head.
"You threatened the wrong baker."
Gingersnap purred.
And somewhere across Crystal Cove, Greg was driving through the darkness with a secret he clearly didn't want anyone to discover.