Bite-Sized Bakery Cozy Mysteries Box Set by Rosie A Point

Author:Rosie A Point [Point, Rosie A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-16T22:00:00+00:00

8

“They’ll be here any second!” Sam squeaked, her makeup starting to run. Tonight, Sam had chosen to be not a knight, but a witch and her tall, pointy hat was skew atop her head. Her dark hair was curled, and she’d pasted a wart on the end of her nose. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

“It’s OK, Sam,” I said. “The place looks great.”

And it did if I did say so myself. Bee and I had spent the whole of yesterday baking treats to be polished and hung around the guesthouse. Sam had cored out the melons, painted them and created interesting decorations. The Oceanside had been transformed into an evil witch’s gingerbread house.

The guests were due any minute—a selection of the local townsfolk, the committee members, guests, as well as the mayor himself. And Sam had created a menu that would surely impress.

“I have to get back into the kitchen. Look after Trouble, will you? Make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy?”

“We’re on it,” I said, sweeping the calico kitten into my arms. I stroked his head and he purred, bumping it into the palm of my hand. I was back in my Sherlock Holmes costume, and Bee was done up as a bee with a big fluffy yellow and black butt.

How she expected to sit in one of the chairs and eat was a mystery to me, but the fact was, we had done it. The place looked amazing. We’d even painted some of the lightbulbs in hues of red and orange to create a spooky ambiance, and Millie had sacrificed some of her candles to help solidify the witchy effect.

A half an hour passed, and the delicious scents of cooking drifted through the guesthouse. A few of the new guests, a couple named the Carlingtons and a young woman, Kayla Thatcher, drifted down wearing their costumes and talking among themselves.

The guesthouse’s front doors were open, and I hovered near the curtains in the living-room-cum-dining-room. Cars pulled up and parked either side of the food truck, and the guests started emerging. Franklin Smith appeared, tall and slightly overweight, his chest as puffed out as it’d been at his Halloween party, wearing the same clown costume as he had then.

Mayor Jacobsen, who was short and round and moved like a boat rocking on the water, shuffled out of a fancy black SUV. He wore a chef’s outfit, strangely, which didn’t seem like much of a costume to me.

The guests entered and music tinkled from a stereo in the corner. There were nameplates at each table, and Bee and I found ours.

We were seated with Franklin, the man who’d hosted the Halloween party the night before, and Gregory, who was out of costume, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes bloodshot. Of course, the poor man had lost his sister yesterday. He shouldn’t have been here.

Then why was he?

The kitchen doors opened, and Sam gave a shy welcome to everyone, bobbing her head and blushing almost magenta. Afterward, a group of servers, most of whom had come from the Chowder Hut, emerged carrying the starters.

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