1 Nothing Bundt Murder (5 page)

CHAPTER
NINE

As Nana and Birdie fed mugs of hot coffee to the now slightly- conscious Doug, they milked not only his coffee but Doug himself, trying to get any information they could out of him. He slowly came back to awareness at which point, as if by magic, Patsy ap
peared with her cameraman.

Doug, now full of coffee and much more awake, told her he was ready to be interviewed. Patsy did a quick check of her perfect makeup, then put on a concerned expression and held the microphone in Doug
’s face.

“We are here,” she said, solemnly into the camera, “With Mr. Doug Berwick, the grieving boyfriend of the murdered woman who was so overcome with grief that he collapsed, right here in his wife’s store. In the very store where the Cyanide-frosted cake was created…”

Well, if the business wasn’t already dead, that sure killed it for good.

“Now tell us Mr. Berwick. You said you had proof that your wife committed the murder. Can you tell us what this proof is. Exclusively.” She turned to the camera to hone in on that point, then she turned back to Doug
.

He nodded shakily and leaned against the display case.

“I found…” he shook his head, tearfully. “I found something in my wife’s computer history…” he caught his breath. “A web page article she was reading on how to poison someone using bitter almond oil. That’s the same oil that a friend of Babette’s brought her from New Zealand. Illegally.” He blinked into the camera and ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought Babette just wanted to use it for baking. If I’d known how my affair would drive her over the edge, I never would have done it.”

“And there you have it,” Patsy said into the camera. “A ‘
Bundt Baby
murder’ exclusive.” Then she made slash-across-the throat motion and the cameraman cut.

Doug sidled up to her, suddenly no longer quite so teary-eyed. “So when will this be on TV?”

“Four o’clock,” she answered, handing him her card. “Call me if you think of anything else.” She then turned to Casey. “You can too.”

Casey gave her a charming smile back, which for so
me reason, really pissed me off.

As
Doug followed Patsy and her cameraman out of the store, Casey looked around with an appraising eye.“Well, I guess after all that, this property’s going to me mine pretty soon. I didn’t want to acquire it this way but…"

“But it’s not yours yet,” I glared at him. “So if you’d please leave and let me get back to baking.”

He looked at me shocked. As did Nana and Birdie who both started making excuses for my rude behavior. They followed him out the door, muttering things like, “She’s not herself,” and “She’s so upset over the tragedy.” 

Which was all true but still
...

Was I the only one who felt like something fishy was going on here?

Would Babette really be so stupid as to research the poison online and then leave it as evidence for everyone to find? It just didn’t make sense to me.

One thing was sure. I had to
find a way to talk to her.

CHAPTER TEN

It was 8:00 PM and most everyone had left the small Police station. The only one working there was Stevie Logan, who was sitting at the front desk.

"Hey," he said, looking up from his surfer magazine, suprised to see me walk in. "What's up, Rosie?"

I walked towards him, letting the delicious smell of the casserole dish I was holding, waft towards him.

"Stevie, I brought some of my Nana’s famous Chicken Paprikash that you mentioned it the other day. It’s for you and Babette. I was wondering if I could give it to her.”

I placed it down on the desk in front of him
and lifted the lid, letting the smell of it waft even closer.

“Sorry. I can’t let you back there," he said, looking down at the delicious-smelling food.  "Wow are those fingerling potatoes?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"Uh huh," I said. "With paprika also."

"You’re not trying to b
ribe a police officer,” he asked with a friendly smirk. “Are you?”

“You’r
e not a police officer!” I answered in mock outrage. “But if I were…would it work?”

“Nah…I’m sorry,
Rosie. But I really can’t let you back there.

I nodded and sighed loudly. “Okay, well you can’t blame a girl for trying, right? I just really need to talk to Babette about the store. I promise
I wasn’t trying to do anything shady. But here...” I pushed the casserole dish towards him. “You can have this anyway.”

I handed him the p
lastic fork wrapped in a napkin that I'd brought, and almost before I could pull my hand away, he was digging into the meal, moaning in pleasure. “Thanks, Rosie,” he said, his mouth full. "This is amazing."

I nodded a
nd walked to the door, waiting for him to buzz it open.

“Rosie,” his voice came from behind me. “Don’t you need to use the bathroom before you go?”

I turned and looked at him, confused. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and reached for a key that was under the desk, then he walked to the door behind him. “I can let you use the ladies room,” he said. “But you have to promise me not to talk any prisoners we might have locked back there. Okay?”

“Oh. Absolutely, thanks, Stevie,” I said. He nodded and held the door open for me to go in back, then as it slowly swung shut, he went back to the desk to finish his dinner.

I headed down the empty hall knowing that if I went straight, I’d find the bathroom. Instead I made a little detour to the left where I saw the holding cell where Babette was being kept.

I looked inside to see her sitting on a cot, staring down at her hands.

“Babette!” I whispered.

S
he looked up shocked. “Rosie?” She got up and came to the bars, looking thin and even paler than normal with dark rings under her eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. How are you?” I knew it was a stupid question
, though. Just from looking at her, I could tell how bad she was.

“I didn’t do it,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know no one believes me. But I would never…” she looked off, shaking her head.

“But there’s so much evidence. The bitter almond oil toxicity research in your webpage history…the cake itself.”

“I know,” she
shrugged in defeat. “I know it looks bad but I’m being framed. I must be.” She looked me straight in the eyes and I could see the color returning to her cheeks. “I never did research on how to kill someone with bitter almond oil. I already know that it’s poisonous! That’s why I never ever would have brought it into the store. I only use it at home, for my own personal baking.”

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then looked me in the eyes
again. “A friend brought two bottles of it back for me from New Zealand last year. I think that someone who knew I had those bottles at home, took one. Then he came into the store that night and put it into the frosting, and planted the bottle in the store.”

“But Babette,” I said. “How could they? You said you were in the store alone all night. How could someone even have gotten into the bakery to put the poison in the cake?”

She looked at me intently, her eyes wide. “I think I know what happened. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. There was one period of about five to ten minutes that I left the store unattended that night.”

“There was?”

“Yes. Yes, I’d forgotten all about it, what with the lack of sleep and everything…”

I nodded,
urging her to hurry.

“That night,” she continued. “As I was baking the gluten-free Bundt, I heard what sounded like a cat outside, howling in pain. So I hurried out to look around. I stayed out there a while, looking around. But I didn’t see
any cat, so I came back inside."

She was
nodding at me eagerly. “I think someone purposely lured me out there so they could come in and put the poison in the cake.”

“Did you lock the door when you went outside to look?”

She shook her head,
no.
“I doubt it. I just ran out without thinking.”

“
Well you need to tell the police all this,” I told her.

“I did,” sh
e shrugged. “They don’t believe me. They say I’m changing my story now, because I need to pin the blame on someone else.”

“Babette. Who do you think did it?” But even as I asked, I knew what her response would be.

“Doug. He’s the one who claimed to have found the poison research in my web history. He knew where I kept the bottles of almond oil. It had to be him.” She looked down, shaking her head. “The problem is, his family has so much power in this town, the police will never even consider what I’m telling them.”

“But why would he kill Dahlia? I mean…”

“He wouldn’t! He was trying to kill me, not Dahlia!” she interrupted. “I think he thought I was still taste-testing the cakes, and that I would be tasting that frosting that he poisoned. He was trying to make it look like I was baking with a dangerous substance and that I accidentally died from it!”

She shook her head, teary-eyed. “I think that instead of dealing with a long protracted fight over the store, he wanted to get rid of me so he could do what he wanted with the store and the land. And now he pretty much can. He’s won.”

“No, you can’t think that way…”I said. I didn’t know if I believed her, but she seemed so miserable, and her theory did make some sense. “You’ll get out of here and you’ll get your store back and…”

“No,” she shrugged. “The
Bundt Baby
chain has a morality clause so they’re pulling my franchise. My business is closed no matter what. So it doesn’t matter anymore. He can do what he wants with the land now. It doesn’t matter.” She looked up at me, her  blue eyes wet and beseeching. “If only there were some way to prove that I’m telling the truth about what happened.”

I nodded. I was almost starting to believe her. It was hard to believe that Doug would resort to murder, just for the money, but stranger things had happened.

On the other hand—I couldn’t know for sure. For all I knew, Babette really did do it. After all, she wasn’t exactly the trustworthy friend I thought she was.

I knew now wasn’t the time to bring it up. It must seem so trivial to her, but I had to know.

“Babette,” I said. “Why did you tell Doug about that ex boyfriend of mine who cheated with my good friend?”

“What? I didn’t. I would never tell Doug anything you told me.”

I looked at her. She was staring at me, her pale blue eyes looking huge in her thin, pale face.

“I promise you, Rosie. I don’t know how he does it but Doug always knows everything. Everything…”

Just then the Stevie came back, holding the empty plate. “Find the bathroom okay?” he said with a friendly smirk.

“Yeah, I just took a wrong turn on the way back,” I said. I looked at Babette, then started to leave.

“Rosie,” she called out as I started walking away. “I don’t know if you believe me, but if you do, even a little, please do what you can to help me. And please, take care of Cupcake! You can use the key hidden under the planter, anytime! It’s still half my house.”

I nodded as she sat back down on her little cot.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

It was strange, to be so closely involved with something like this. And I still didn
’t know who to believe. Either Babette was a complete innocent who was being framed, or she was a psychopath of the first order who was able to lie believably and to cry on cue.

It seemed much more likely to me that Doug was the bad guy, but who knew?

In any case, it seemed like the store was going to be sold quite soon and I would be out of a job. I had no idea when it would happen, so I decided to go back there and get the few things I’d left in a locked cabinet in the back.

But as I entered the store, and walked past the empty glass display towards the kitchen door, something felt off. I stood in the empty store. Listening. A loud bang came from the back.

I gasped then froze in place. The doorknob to the kitchen started turning. Whoever was in the kitchen was coming out! I had to hide!

I quickly jumped to the side of the door and flattened my back against the wall—hoping that the door itself would hide me when it opened. My eyes were shut tight in fear as I felt the door
swing open toward me. I forced myself to open them as the door started swinging shut again.I was about to be exposed!

I quickly grabbed something from my purse, then screamed, “Aaah!” and pushed out at whoever was nearby.

He stumbled back. I backed away breathless.

“I have pepper spray!” I screamed out.

“Jeeze,” a male voice said. He steadied himself then came closer. It was Casey. He squinted at me, then at the object in my hand. “That’s not pepper spray. It’s…a citrus facial rejuvenation mist?”

I continued holding it out as a weapon nevertheless—until I was sure he meant me no harm.

He didn’t seem concerned in the least as he looked around. “What are you doing here this time of night?” he asked.

“What are you doing here?” I countered.

“I was looking around. As you know, I’m interested in buying the place. Doug’s realtor was showing it to me.”

“Oh. So…that loud banging noise I heard from the kitchen?”

“The realtor went out the back way. I was going to leave as well when I saw your car outside and came back in to see if you wanted to grab dinner.”

“You did?” I gave my face a quick misting, then put the bottle back into my purse.

“Yes. Why are you so surprised?” He looked at me with that same amused expression on his face.

“I’m not surprised.” I smoothed back my pony tail and found myself wishing that I’d listened to Nana and fixed myself up a little more.

Boy his eyes were green
.
And Birdie was right, they did have little bluish flecks in them.

No! Stop! I told myself. He’s not worth it. He’s a cheater!

“I’m just…I’m not focused on dating right now,” I said coolly. “I have more important things to think about.”

“Oh, right,” he nodd
ed. “Like being out of a job. It’s pretty much a done deal.”

“Hmph. That figures,” I said. “The body’s not even cold…so to speak."

“Actually the body is totally cold,” he said. “And if you must know, Doug contacted me about selling, not the other way around.”

Well, Doug sure didn’t waste any time. It was all just like Babette had said.

“So…dinner?” He looked at me, eyebrows raised.

Hadn’t I already told him
no
to dating? He definitely seemed like the type who didn’t take no for an answer, and I was about to tell him as much when he leaned towards me.“ I might have a lead on a new job for you," he said. “Pays pretty well.”

“Oh? Okay, then. I guess. ” I shrugged. “Let me just get my stuff from the back.”

I went in back to get my stuff out of the locked cabinet but before I went back out, I pulled out my cell phone to dial Nana and tell her I wouldn’t be home until late and not to hold dinner.

“Ahh! You have a date!” she screamed into the phone when I told her.

“No. it’s not a date. It’s just a dinner about…”

“A dinner date! I’ll wait up.”

“No, Nana, don’t. I mean, I won’t be home late but it’s no big deal. Really. It’s about a job…”

Just then Casey peeked his head into the kitchen. “Ready?”

“Gotta go, Nana,” I said and hung up.

“Ready,” I said to Casey. “But I have to go feed Cupcake first.”

He looked at me puzzled as I relocked the cabinette and sighed. “Cupcake. Babette’s cat,” I explained. “Doug would let her starve rather than feed her.It’s up to me.”

“Well let’s get a move on it then,” Casey said. “I guess I have two lovely females to feed.”

I rolled my eyes and we left.