Chapter 11
The Toothpick Test
Recipe Tip: Insert the tester. Clean means done.
Saturday morning arrived with sunshine.
Which, Tessa decided, was deeply suspicious.
After three days of rain, whispered conversations, police cars, and one dead knife maker, Larkspur Falls had no business looking cheerful.
But the town had apparently decided that murder wasn't going to interfere with the Harvest Festival.
By eight o'clock, Main Street was packed.
Pumpkins lined the sidewalks.
Children ran between stalls.
Musicians tuned fiddles beneath the gazebo.
Someone had already spilled cider near the fountain.
The Harvest Festival was alive.
Second Rise Bakery had a booth directly across from the flower stalls.
Tessa stood behind it, arranging pastries beneath a handwritten sign:
BANANA brEAD — SOLD OUT
She stared at the sign.
Then at the three untouched loaves beneath the table.
"Maybe we should actually sell them," Dani suggested.
Tessa shook her head.
"Not yet."
"They're perfectly good."
"I know."
"You're losing money."
"I know."
Dani sighed.
"You can't spend the rest of your life afraid of banana bread."
Tessa looked toward the crowd.
"I'm not afraid of banana bread."
Dani raised an eyebrow.
"You're afraid of what it means."
Tessa didn't answer.
She touched the little blue injector cap hidden inside her apron pocket.
She had barely slept.
The cap had changed everything.
Bertie couldn't be the whole answer.
Neither could Fiona.
Neither could Renata.
Someone had known about Garrick's allergy.
Someone had taken his injector.
Someone had tampered with the bread.
And someone had been close enough to do it.
The question was who.
A child stopped at the booth.
"Do you have cookies?"
Tessa smiled.
"Chocolate chip."
"Are they soft?"
"Very."
"Can I have two?"
"Absolutely."
Dani leaned over.
"See? You're still functioning."
Tessa smiled.
"Apparently."
The child ran away with the cookies.
For a few minutes, things felt normal.
Then Fiona arrived.
She carried a basket covered with a checked cloth.
She placed it on her stall.
Tessa watched her.
Fiona looked back.
"What?"
Tessa crossed the narrow space between their stalls.
"We need to talk."
Fiona's expression hardened.
"About what?"
"Banana bread."
Fiona sighed.
"Of course."
Tessa lowered her voice.
"Your loaf."
"What about it?"
"Someone took it from your kitchen."
Fiona went still.
"How do you know that?"
Tessa stared.
"You told someone."
"No."
"Then how—"
Fiona stopped.
Her face changed.
She looked around.
"Who told you?"
"Nobody."
Fiona narrowed her eyes.
Tessa realized she'd revealed too much.
"I've been asking questions."
"You're investigating again."
"I'm trying to understand what happened."
"Even though the police have arrested Bertie?"
"Yes."
Fiona scoffed.
"You're unbelievable."
"So I've been told."
Fiona folded her arms.
"Fine."
She glanced toward the crowd.
"My banana walnut loaf disappeared Wednesday morning."
Tessa's pulse quickened.
"What time?"
"About nine."
"Where?"
"My kitchen."
"Was anyone there?"
"No."
"Who had access?"
"My staff."
"Anyone else?"
Fiona hesitated.
"My back door was unlocked."
Tessa frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I was unloading supplies."
"Did you report it?"
Fiona laughed bitterly.
"Report a loaf?"
"It might matter."
"It mattered to me."
"Why?"
"Because it was for Garrick."
Tessa stared.
"You made it for him?"
Fiona nodded.
"Why?"
"Because he ordered it."
The words hit Tessa like cold water.
"Garrick ordered banana walnut bread?"
"Yes."
Tessa's mind raced.
"Did he eat walnuts?"
Fiona stared at her.
"That's what you're asking?"
"Yes."
"He loved them."
Tessa's blood went cold.
"What?"
Fiona frowned.
"Garrick loved walnuts."
Tessa said nothing.
Fiona continued.
"He ordered the loaf every year."
"How many times?"
"Three."
"Three?"
"Three years."
Tessa's heart hammered.
"Then why did he die?"
Fiona's face softened.
"I don't know."
"Was the loaf definitely yours?"
"Yes."
"What happened to it?"
"It disappeared."
"And you didn't make another?"
"I was furious."
Fiona lifted the checked cloth from her basket.
A banana loaf sat underneath.
Tessa stared.
"What's that?"
"Another one."
"When did you make it?"
"This morning."
Fiona picked up a knife.
"Try it."
Tessa hesitated.
"Why?"
"Because you keep looking at me like I poisoned him."
"I don't."
"You do."
Fiona cut a slice.
She handed it over.
Tessa took a bite.
The texture was dense.
Moist.
Slightly sticky.
She frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You're making a face."
Tessa took another bite.
Tangy.
There was a sharpness she couldn't identify.
"What did you put in this?"
"Brown butter. Banana. Walnuts. Flour. Eggs. Buttermilk."
Tessa looked up.
"Buttermilk."
"Yes."
"And your original loaf?"
"The same."
Tessa remembered Garrick's forge.
Maple.
Orange.
No cardamom.
Not tangy.
Not dense.
Something else.
Something deliberately different.
Fiona watched her.
"What?"
Tessa shook her head.
"Nothing."
Fiona lowered the knife.
"You're not telling me something."
"I don't know what I'm telling you yet."
Fiona looked annoyed.
"That's convenient."
Tessa looked toward the bakery stall.
Pretzel was gone.
Her heart sank.
"Where's the cat?"
Dani pointed.
"Behind Fiona."
Tessa turned.
Pretzel was sitting directly on Fiona's counter.
His enormous body occupied half the display.
Fiona stared at him.
"No."
Pretzel blinked.
"Absolutely not."
He stretched.
Fiona pointed toward the ground.
"Down."
Pretzel didn't move.
"Down."
He looked at Tessa.
Tessa shrugged.
"You're on your own."
Fiona picked him up.
Pretzel went rigid.
She carried him to the ground.
He immediately jumped back onto the counter.
Fiona's eye twitched.
"Tessa."
"He's independent."
"He's a menace."
"I agree."
Fiona picked him up again.
This time she carried him several feet away.
Pretzel walked straight back.
Fiona stared at him.
"Why does he hate me?"
Tessa considered it.
"He has excellent instincts."
Fiona's face went blank.
Tessa immediately regretted the sentence.
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant."
Fiona grabbed her basket.
"I'm going to my stall."
She marched away.
Pretzel followed.
Tessa caught him.
"No."
Pretzel looked offended.
"Stay here."
He stared.
"I mean it."
She carried him back to the bakery booth.
He sat beneath the table.
For approximately seven seconds.
Then he crawled into the display box.
"You're exhausting."
Dani laughed.
Tessa looked across the festival.
Fiona was arranging pastries.
Everything seemed normal.
But Tessa couldn't stop thinking about the bread.
Fiona's loaf was dense.
Tangy.
Heavy with walnuts.
The loaf Garrick ate smelled of maple and orange.
They weren't the same.
Which meant Fiona's bread hadn't killed Garrick.
Tessa exhaled.
"The weapon wasn't Fiona's bread."
Dani looked at her.
"How do you know?"
"Because I tasted it."
Dani stared.
"You ate evidence?"
"It wasn't evidence."
"It was banana bread."
"Exactly."
Dani shook her head.
"You are impossible."
Tessa smiled faintly.
Then she looked toward the forge road beyond the festival.
The killer had wanted everyone to think the answer was simple.
Tessa's bread.
Fiona's bread.
Bertie's motive.
Renata's lies.
But none of them fit.
The real loaf had been different.
Deliberately different.
And someone had known exactly how to make it different.
Tessa touched the injector cap through her apron.
She looked at Pretzel.
He was licking his paw beneath the table.
"You knew."
Pretzel stopped.
Tessa smiled.
"Of course you did."
The festival music swelled behind her.
People laughed.
Children chased one another through the crowd.
The town celebrated.
And beneath the cheerful noise, Tessa felt the mystery tighten around her.
Fiona hadn't killed Garrick with her bread.
Her loaf wasn't the weapon.
Which meant someone else had made the deadly loaf.
Someone who knew what Garrick was allergic to.
Someone who knew Tessa's recipe.
Someone who knew exactly what to change.
And Tessa had a growing feeling that the person hadn't merely stolen a loaf.
They had stolen hers.