The Sweet Dreams Bake Shop (A Sweet Cove Mystery Book 1) (9 page)

Angie’s heart sank.
I hope he isn’t, anyway.

Early the next morning, Jenna went to the bake shop to help Lisa with the early morning rush so that Angie could head for the police station to keep her appointment with the detective. As Angie climbed the steps and approached the front door of the station, her knees were shaking and her legs wobbled. She chastised herself for feeling so queasy and nervous. She was innocent, but acting so unsure and afraid would not convince any law enforcement officer that she had nothing to do with Professor Linden’s death.

Walking into the tiny lobby, Angie forced herself to push her shoulders back and straighten her posture. She approached the front desk and asked for Detective Matthews in a clear, loud voice. Almost too loud, since the receptionist looked like she wondered why Angie was shouting.

Angie cleared her throat and lowered her volume. “I’m Angie Roseland. I have an appointment with the detective.”

Angie turned towards the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. The man was tall, about Angie’s age, with broad shoulders and a determined manner. “Miss Roseland? I’m Detective Matthews.”

“Nice to meet you. Please call me Angie.”

They shook and the detective ushered Angie into a small conference room off the main hallway. The room was plain and harshly lit and a scratched, plastic table and two old, wooden chairs sat in the center of the space. The detective indicated with his hand that Angie should take one of the chairs. The detective sat opposite her across the table.

“So, Miss Roseland. Angie.” He pushed a button on a tape recorder that was sitting in the middle of the table. “Detective Ron Matthews is speaking with Angela Roseland.” He stated the date, time and place of the interview.

“Would you state your name and address, please.”

Angie did. She tried to take even breaths to calm her hammering heart and skittering nerves.

“What is your occupation?” The detective’s pen was poised over a page of his notebook.

“I own the Sweet Dreams Bake Shop. I work there every day. Until around 3pm. Sometimes I’m there later getting ready for the next morning.”

“Do you work there alone?”

“I have an employee, Lisa Barrows. And often my sisters help out.”

“How long have you had the store?”

“Only a year. The building has new owners now, so I have to vacate the premises in a couple of weeks. The new owners will be replacing the space with something else.”

“Will you be moving the business to another location in Sweet Cove?”

“I don’t have firm plans as of yet.” Angie thought it best not to talk about moving the shop to the Victorian.

“Did you attend college?”

“Yes, I went to MIT. I have a degree in chemistry.”

The detective’s eyebrows went up. “Chemistry?” He leveled his eyes at Angie. “You’re aware, Miss Roseland, that Professor Linden was poisoned?”

Angie nodded, her face was serious. “Chief Martin told me.”

The detective leaned slightly forward. “Did he tell you what was used to poison her?”

Angie shook her head. “No. He didn’t.” Under her shirt, a bead of sweat rolled down her back.

Detective Matthews narrowed his eyes. “Since you majored in chemistry, would you like to have a guess what was found in Professor Linden’s body?”

“I would not.” Angie met the detective’s eyes. “I didn’t study how to poison people.”

“It’s interesting that Professor Linden died shortly after leaving your shop.” The detective leaned back in his chair. “Who made her beverages that day?”

“I was the one who made the professor’s first coffees of the day. She always requested that I make them.” Angie was quiet for a few moments. “I’m not sure who made her other drink though.” She thought back to the day. “The professor always had the same thing every morning. She would sit at one of the tables and have a bakery item and a mocha latte. Some of the regulars would sit at her table and talk. They’d come and go. She might read the paper for a little while or a book she brought with her. She’d stay for about an hour and then when she was ready to leave, she always had a hazelnut latte to go.” Angie’s eyebrows knitted together as she pondered the last morning that the professor was in the bake shop. “I don’t know. I don’t know who made the take-out drink.”

The detective sighed. “Who was working that day?”

“Me. Lisa. My sister, Courtney. She’s a senior in college. She came up for the weekend.” Angie folded her hands and rested them on the table. “It doesn’t really matter who made the drinks. Lots of people could have accessed them. People sat with the professor at her table to talk with her. Just about anyone could have slipped something into her drink.”

“Professor Linden left her Victorian home to you in her will, along with a substantial amount of money.”

Angie nodded.

The detective frowned. “Why did she?”

Angie let out a sigh. She didn’t like the detective’s accusatory tone. “I have no idea.”

Detective Matthews continued. “You aren’t related. You weren’t long time friends.”

“No. The inheritance was as much a surprise to me as it is to you, Detective.”

He drummed his fingers on the table. “And when did you know you were in Professor Linden’s will?

“When Attorney Jack Ford told me. After Professor Linden passed away.”

“You stood to gain from her death.” The detective’s tone of voice was harsh.

Angie looked across the room, not focusing on anything, just gazing into space.

The detective was about to speak when Angie turned back to him. She placed her hands in her lap, and said softly, “No one gains from someone’s death, Detective.”

Angie and the detective sat in silence for a few moments, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound in the room.

“Is there anything else? If not, I need to get to work.” Angie didn’t wait for an answer. She stood up, walked to the door, and left the detective sitting alone in the room.

“How did it go?” Jenna rushed from behind the counter when she saw her sister come into the bake shop. “I’ve been so worried.”

Angie took her jacket off and replaced it with her apron. “He just asked me questions.”

Tom was sitting in his usual spot at the counter. “You okay, Angie?”

She smiled at him. “Yeah, I am, now that I’m back here.”

One of her regular customers hurried over. “Angie. I’ve been waiting for you. Will you make me one of those energy drinks?”

“Of course,” Angie said. “Pick out the flavor you’d like.”

“Angie!” A local called to her and he lifted his cup indicating the need for a refill.

Angie nodded and turned to get the coffee pot, but before she did, she looked back to Tom. “Just another day at the bake shop.” Her eyes twinkled.

When the morning rush slowed, Jenna brought Angie a cup of tea. “Tell me what happened at the police station. Are they going to leave you alone now?”

Angie sipped from the mug and leaned against the cabinet. “I don’t know. They can’t pin the professor’s death on me. Where’s the proof?”

Jenna breathed out. “Thank heavens.” She squeezed Angie’s arm.

With her tea mug in one hand, Angie opened the cooler to see what needed replenishing. “I’m not worried. Well, not too much, anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if the detective calls Courtney and Lisa in for questioning. He was very interested to know who made the professor’s drinks the day she was murdered.”

Jenna groaned. “Why don’t they hunt down the actual killer and leave innocent people alone?”

“Someone in this town murdered Professor Linden,” Angie said. “Why?” She put her mug down. “I hope the police don’t just keep barking up the wrong trees. We need to think about this, Jenna. Someone was in our house. What was he looking for? Is the person who was in our house the same person who killed the professor?”

Jenna said, “I haven’t found anything in the upstairs den that someone would be interested in. What was he looking for? What did he want?”

Angie wiped down the preparation counter. “We need to focus on the motive for killing the professor. It was premeditated. Someone planned it. The killer had to get the poison and plot to put it into the professor’s coffee.” Angie stopped cleaning and tapped her finger against her cheek, thinking. “It has to be someone who knew her, knew her routine. I need to talk to Lisa and Courtney about who was in the shop when the professor was here that day. That way we can narrow down the suspects.”

“And then,” Jenna said, “we can figure out which one of those people had motive.”

“I’ll talk to Lisa before she leaves today,” Angie said.

“Good,” Jenna said. “I’ll call Courtney later this afternoon. Then tonight we’ll put together a master list of suspects and figure out who might have had reason to poison the professor.”

Just before 3pm, Angie asked Lisa if she’d stay for a few minutes to talk about the day the professor was poisoned.

Lisa was putting her apron into the laundry bin. “I guess I could, but only for a few minutes. I have a job interview. Since you’ll be closing the bake shop, I’d like to find something soon.”

Angie’s eyebrows went up. “That’s great. Where are you interviewing?”

“At the resort. They’re looking for a receptionist who can also sometimes act as a reservation specialist. I’ve never done that, but I think I could learn it pretty fast.”

“Good luck. I hope it works out.”

They sat down at one of the café tables. Angie opened a notebook.

“What do you want to talk about?” Lisa asked. Her brows knitted together.

“I thought we could think about who was in the shop the morning the professor was killed. Make a list.” Angie pulled a pen from her apron.

“Why?”

“To try to figure out who did it,” Angie said.

“Won’t the police do that?”

“I think it will help the police. I had to speak with a detective this morning. I think he’ll probably want to question you and Courtney.”

A look of worry washed over Lisa’s face. “But we didn’t have anything to do with the death.” Lisa’s eyes got watery.

“Don’t worry. The detective just asked simple questions, straight forward stuff. Just tell him what you remember. He’s just trying to gather information.” Angie thought it best that she leave out the part about how the detective’s interrogation made her feel nervous and uncomfortable.

Lisa clutched her hands together.

“It’ll be okay.” Angie gave her a comforting smile. “Let’s think who was here the morning of the murder.” Angie started making a list. “Police Chief Martin was here and Patrolman Talbot. The professor, of course. You, me, and Courtney. Tom.” Angie wrote the names on the pad of paper. She looked at Lisa. “Who else?”

“The real estate agent, Betty Hayes.” Lisa rubbed her temple.

“Oh,” Angie said. “Davis and Josh Williams were here that day. They came in to check out the shop for the renovations they have planned.”

“Mrs. Abbott,” Lisa said. “That group of older men who come in every morning. And, Selectman Johnson.”

They went on for a few more minutes adding names to the list. Lisa checked her watch. “I need to go now. I don’t want to be late for my interview.”

“Oh, right. Thanks. If you think of anyone else, let me know tomorrow.” Angie put her pen down. She wanted to say something to Lisa that might help her to worry less. “You know, I don’t think the murder was random. I think someone specifically wanted the professor dead. I know the killer hasn’t been caught, but I don’t think any of us are in danger.”

Lisa seemed to consider what Angie said. She nodded.

“Thanks for helping me with the list.” Angie smiled at her. “Good luck with the interview.”

Lisa gathered her things. “Thanks.”

Angie felt badly that closing the bake shop was probably contributing to Lisa’s distress. She sighed, picked up her notebook, and placed it in her purse.

After dinner, Angie and Jenna sat in the living room going over the list of people who had visited the bake shop on the day that Professor Linden was poisoned.

“I talked to Courtney on the phone this afternoon.” Jenna held a piece of paper with names written on it. “What she said matches up with the names you wrote down.”

“That’s everyone then. These are the people who had access to the professor’s drinks.” Angie thought of something. “But what about after the professor left the bake shop. She could have stopped to talk to someone on her way home.”

“Tom said that Davis Williams was talking to the professor on her front porch shortly before she died.” Jenna put her list of names on the coffee table. “She had her take-out latte with her, but I don’t see how Williams could slip poison into her cup. Unless she opened it while she was standing on her porch.”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” Angie said. “The poison couldn’t take effect that fast, could it?”

“I suppose not.” Jenna tapped her pencil against her thigh. “Should we cross off Davis Williams from the suspect list?”

“Did he get near the professor in the shop that morning? I’m just thinking out loud, I know you weren’t there.” Angie stood and started pacing around the room. “I don’t think he did, but I can’t be sure. Wait. He and Josh went into the back room for a while. I guess he could have accessed the professor’s takeout latte as he walked past the counter. We were all busy. We might not have noticed if he tampered with her drink.” Angie ran her hand through her hair. “Let’s keep him on the list for now.”

Jenna picked the list off the coffee table and looked it over again. “What about what you told me that Betty said about the professor going to see that new lawyer. Betty said the professor asked the lawyer something about her father.”

Angie sat down. “Yeah. That’s strange, isn’t it? The professor’s father is long dead. What could she want the lawyer for? How would Ford know anything about Professor Linden’s father?”

“Betty might have gotten it wrong. She can be a scatterbrain.”

“That’s for sure.” Angie rolled her eyes. “Betty hasn’t been any help finding me a new location for the bake shop.”

“If you weren’t going to move the shop here, then you’d have to find a new Realtor.” Jenna stretched. “Let’s go make some hot tea.”