Death by Chocolate Cake: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery (11 page)

T
wo Months Later
.

T
he stale smell
of burnt plastic and cigarette smoke hit me.

I had something I needed to do that morning. Before my life—possibly? hopefully?—changed that afternoon.

"Is Detective Whitaker here?"

He led me into the interview room.

"You look awfully dressed up," Jackson said when he entered. "Off on a hot date?"

I'd gotten a brand new haircut and added a burgundy tint to my brunette hair. And I'd splurged on a new outfit.

"Not exactly." I shifted uncomfortably. "Jackson, I just wanted to make things right with us again."

He glanced around to make sure the door was securely shut. "You're just lucky you aren't in any more trouble than you already are."

"So you won't accept my apology then?"

"You shouldn't have kept that information from us, Rachael. Now Marcello's on the run and we might never have a chance to catch him. An apology hardly cuts it."

I was frustrated. "You mean someone else might catch him? A cop from a different jurisdiction or different state, making you look bad?" I asked. "That's what this is really all about, isn't it? I came to you as soon as I had proof. You're just being stubborn. Refusing to take my calls for two months straight. This is personal, not professional."

Jackson just shook his head and looked away. But I knew I was right.

"I have to go," I said quietly. "It's an important day."

* * *

P
ippa had barely moved
from her spot on the sofa in two months.

"It's okay, Rach. I won't stay here forever." Her hand draped over one side of the sofa as she reached for a packet of supermarket cookies that were lying on the floor. They'd been left open over night and as she listlessly bit into one, there was no crunch. "I prefer them this way," she said in her usual zombie-like voice before she continued to munch on it with her eyes glossed over.

I was hoping that Pippa wouldn't stay there forever, but far more for her sake than for mine. This depression had gone on long enough and it was threatening to suck her under and never let go of her.

"Well, wish me luck," I said lamely as I waved my car keys in the air.

"Huh?" Pippa turned her glassy eyes towards me, confused.

"It's the do-over of the auditions today. Remember?"

"Oh." Pippa brightened just a little and put down her cookie. "Break a leg, Rachael."

* * *

J
ustin had obviously had
a mini-makeover of his own sometime during the past two months. His dark hair was now long and floppy and his new bangs sported a stripe of bright blue.

"Rachael!" he exclaimed brightly before racing over to give me a hug inside the Hillsville Park studios. It was a bit eerie being back there. Justin seemed genuinely pleased to see me and I had to admit I felt a bit of warmth towards him as well. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

"Can you believe all this?" he said, breaking the embrace. "I still can't believe it myself. Is that guy still on the run? Have you heard anything?" Justin asked, bringing a hand up to his chest.

I shook my head. "I'm kind of on the outs with the police department."

Justin let out a loud, dramatic sigh. "I'm just glad I'M off the hook for the whole thing. And I guess I've got you to thank for that."

"I guess so. Have you seen Adam since it all happened?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "Only once. This morning. He's being a total nightmare, as per usual. Don't know what I ever saw in that guy." He flicked his bangs out of his face dramatically in a way that reminded me of Adam.

"He's here then?" I asked. "And Renee?"

"Both of them are back for another round of torture," Justin said, looking down at his trusty tablet. "Speaking of, Renee is up first. I've got to go track her down."

It surprised me that Renee had turned up to audition again. She'd said that the blood money from the gossip sites had been almost as much the prize money from the show.

I supposed she could always do with
more
money. Who couldn't? Still, something about it didn't sit right with me.

I was still mulling it over when I heard a familiar voice.

"Rachael!" Dawn said warmly as she practically skipped over to me. I was so happy to see her. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you made it back." She gave me a comforting hug that helped to soothe my nerves as I took in a breath of her lavender perfume. "Do you have five minutes? Come join me in my dressing room for a coffee?"

"I think I might have to go with herbal tea," I said, worried that the coffee wouldn't be great for my already shot nerves.

"Herbal tea it is then."

I started to follow her into her room when I heard heavy footsteps running after me.

"Rachael, where do you think you're going." Justin started to admonish me, but his tone softened when he saw I was with a guest of honor. "Oh, hello, Dawn," he said with an awkward little curtsy. "I just need to have a quick word with Rachael," he said with a sickly sweet smile. "You don't mind, do you?"

Dawn shot me a look before giving Justin her blessing. "I'll wait for you in my dressing room," Dawn said.

"I'll be calling for you in fifteen, Rachael," Justin said sternly. "Make sure you're ready. The new judge Colin Evans is an even harder taskmaster than Pierre was, if you can believe it, and he WON'T wait for you. Got it?" He clucked his tongue. "I've got your gluten-free cheesecake all ready for them to taste." He stopped and scrolled through his tablet. "It was chocolate, right?"

"Peanut butter," I corrected him.

"Right. It will be ready. Just make sure you are. Right, Rachael? You got it?"

I nodded firmly. "Got it."

* * *

"
O
h shoot
," Dawn said just as she'd poured the hot water into my teacup. "I've got to be ready to start filming in five minutes or Justin is going to skin me alive." She chuckled. "Why don't you wait here and finish your tea?" Dawn patted my knee while I settled into her comfy suede sofa. "You deserve a rest after everything you've been through."

I gratefully accepted the offer as she tottered off, but it was hard to relax knowing that the clock was counting down and Justin was waiting.

I decided not to cut it too fine. Ten minutes before my call time, I picked up my coat and walked to the door.

"Just where do you think you are going?"

Renee pushed me back into the room and locked the door before I could comprehend what was happening.

"Renee!" I shouted. "Are you kidding me?" I kicked against the door, figuring it was a joke and expecting that she would be back to let me out in a few seconds.

But she didn't return. "Renee?" I called again, more frantically this time.

"Let me out!" I screamed, banging on the wall. "You can't keep me locked in here!"

I was starting to panic.

Oh, this cannot be happening.

Renee really does have it out for me.

Then, a shock of ice ran down my spine.

What if I'd been wrong about Marcello?

I could hear my name being called over the loudspeaker. I looked down at my phone desperately. No reception. I banged on the door again. Geez, those doors were thick.

"JUSTIN!" I screamed. My phone might not have had any reception, but it was still capable of keeping the time. And letting me know that three minutes of my allowed audition time had already dripped away. If I didn't get out of there, like, immediately, I was going to miss my already tiny window.

Window.

I glanced over at the far side of the dressing room. It was tiny. But that wasn't the only problem. The one small window was at least seven feet off the ground.

The sofa wouldn't budge the first time I yanked at it. I stood up and took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to go about it logically. I ran around to the other side and pushed, rather than pull, putting all my weight behind me as I pushed off with my knees, lunging towards the grey monolith.

I winced, looking down at the expensive suede, which I was sure was not meant to be climbed on. But this was an emergency.

Right before I was about to pull myself up towards the window, I glanced back at the spot where the sofa had been.

Sitting there, right in the middle of the floor, was a brown-colored cheesecake. It had been hidden under the lounge chair.

"What the heck," I said, jumping off the sofa and running over to the cake sitting on the floor. I leaned over and sniffed it. The smell was unmistakable. It was definitely peanut butter.

I looked at the crumbly crust. It was unmistakably gluten-free.

It was definitely my cake.

I just sat there on my knees, staring at it for a minute in complete confusion.

Why does Dawn have my cheesecake in her room?

And what cake were the judges going to taste?

My heart skipped a beat when I remembered what Justin had said. "It's chocolate, isn't it?"

The realization hit me.

They're not eating my cake! They're eating a tampered cake.

I stood up and quickly began to pace. On that day, my first audition, Dawn had never eaten my cake. And Wendy had only pretended to, having eaten the 'real' cake before the auction even took place.

Only Pierre had eaten the cake.

It wasn't Marcello who had killed Pierre. Or Adam. Or Renee. Or even Justin.

It was Dawn.

And now she was going to kill someone else.

The loudspeaker crackled and the next name was called out.

I'd missed my chance.

I just hoped I still had time to save a life.

I
banged
and banged on the door and finally it opened, causing me to stumble forward face first as I almost ended up on the ground.

"I'm sorry," Renee said politely as she smoothed down her dress. "It was nothing personal, Rachael. I just couldn't have you doing your audition. They are only going to cast one woman from Belldale and it HAS to be me."

So she was as cutthroat as ever.

"It doesn't matter," I gasped, pushing past her. "I just need to get to the audition room. Do you know if anyone has eaten my cake?"

I was sprinting breathlessly towards the audition room while Renee chased over me. "No," she called out. "You never auditioned, so why would they?"

Good point. I paused just for a second to catch my breath. "You might have inadvertently saved a life by locking me in that room, Renee." I reached out and placed my hands on her shoulders for support, while she shot me a horrified look.

"What are you talking about?"

"We have to go! Who knows what other cakes she has poisoned. Come on, let's go!"

* * *

I
burst into the room
.

"Put that cake down! It could kill you!"

"Rachael, what the heck are you doing?"

I turned to see Adam's stricken face. So, it was his audition. "Erm." I swallowed. "Sorry, Adam. It's nothing personal."

I turned my attention back to the three-story wedding cake sitting on the judge’s table. "BUT DO NOT EAT THAT CAKE."

"Oh, Rachael!" Adam said, pushing me out of the way. "Do you always have to ruin everything for me?"

"I'm sorry, Adam," I said, bringing down the only weapon I had, my purse, to smash the wedding cake.

Adam shrieked. "How could you?"

I stood back and looked at the wreckage, and at Dawn's crumpled face behind it. Her ashen expression told me everything I needed to know.

"I'm sorry, Adam," I whispered. "I had to do it. Even if it wasn't poisoned, that cake was a travesty."

* * *

"
P
lease
," I pleaded with Jackson. "I know you're not talking to me, but just let me have one minute to speak to Dawn before you take her away. Haven't I at least earned that?"

He sighed reluctantly before he pulled Dawn around to face me, her hands still handcuffed behind her. Jackson turned his face away in a futile effort to give us some privacy.

"Just tell me, Dawn. Why did you do it?" I tried to keep the shaking out of my voice. Tried to hide the hurt over my surrogate nana betraying me like that.

"I was about to be replaced on the program." Dawn turned her head towards the studio and let out a bitter laugh. "I wasn't making good TV, as they say,” she murmured, her voice suddenly sounding like it was coming from so far away.

"But what did Pierre have to do with it?"

"Pierre Hamilton was the executive producer. It was all his decision." Dawn turned back to face me. "Do you know how long I waited, sidelined to pathetic morning shows for decades, overlooked and underappreciated, just waiting for my one shot at fame? After years of scratching and clawing my way into a primetime position, I wasn't going to let anyone take that away from me. Certainly not Pierre Hamilton," she spat. "And not this new guy either. Colin Evans wasn't going to take my job away from me either."

"No. You did that to yourself. Did you have to use my cake to do it, though?"

Dawn offered me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, my dear. It was nothing personal."

I took a step back and nodded at Jackson. "You can take her away," I whispered.

I
n the end
, the producers selected two contestants from Belldale to appear on the next season of
Baking Warriors
.

And I wasn't either of them.

* * *

T
he flight was late
, but I had a feeling Pippa would have waited a million years for that plane to land.

"Marcello!" Pippa screamed, running so fast that her legs were nothing but a blur underneath her. "I can't believe it!" she gasped, flinging herself into his arms.

I hurried after her, keen to see the happy reunion. Eager to see that Marcello was in one piece. I mean, it was Marcello. Maybe the best we could hope for with him was several pieces.

"But why did you run away, sweetheart? When you knew you didn't do it?" Tears were flowing down Pippa's face.

"I couldn't live like that, with you thinking that I did it, that I was guilty," Marcello said. "I knew how it would have looked as well, with my reputation for accidents. I knew everyone must think I could do such a stupid thing. All I would have to do would be walk past a cake and accidentally poison it." Marcello pulled away from Pippa for a second and looked at me.

"I was such a big fan of the show and Pierre. I met him years ago and got that photo." He stopped to collect himself. "I went along to the audition thinking I might get on the show. Of course I didn't, but I didn't want to tell Pippa where I had been that day because I'd told her I was out looking for a job." He turned back to Pippa. "I'm so sorry, my darling."

"No, Marcello, don't say that. I'm so sorry, baby," Pippa said as Marcello wrapped her hands in his. "I should never have doubted you."

Marcello kissed her hands and told her it was all right, that none of that mattered anymore. "Just as long as we're back together now."

I watched them for a moment and I could see that they were genuinely happy and in love. And even though Marcello could break just about anything, I knew their relationship was one thing he would make sure he’d keep together.

"Come on, you two," I said, laughing. "We've got a wedding reception to organize."