Murder at the Beacon Bakeshop (A Beacon Bakeshop Mystery Book 1) by Darci Hannah

Author:Darci Hannah [Hannah, Darci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-02-22T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

“This is where you want to eat?” Kennedy eyed the paneled room, frowning at the taxidermied wall art. “When you said you wanted to go out for dinner, I was thinking Traverse City chic and not some backwoods lovechild of a nineteen-fifties diner and Cabela’s.”

“It’s called the Moose,” I said, pulling her to the hostess station. “It’s Rory’s favorite restaurant.”

Staring at the cold glass eyes of what was once undoubtedly a regal buck, Kennedy nodded. “Now, that I believe.”

After a quick word with the hostess, we were seated in Karen’s section, the frazzled waitress who seemed to know more about Rory Campbell than I did. After all, he’d been eating at the Moose long before I moved in.

Once seated at the faux-wood Formica–topped table, Kennedy leaned in. “So, let me get this straight. You think your current heartthrob purposely poisoned your cheating ex’s lover having never met her? That’s a stretch, even for him.”

I leaned in as well and matched her near-whisper. “The cyanide was found in the coffee. He was making the coffee.”

“I get all that, but doesn’t a murderer usually have a motive?”

“Usually,” I agreed, and rested my elbows on the table. “But Rory has a military background. He’s a trained killer. We know he likes to hunt, but what if he . . . you know, has a taste for killing other things as well?”

“Like obnoxious donut-stealing divas?” Without much thought, Kennedy nodded. “I get it. She was obnoxious. She was destroying your opening day. Who didn’t want to strangle her?”

“He was very calm about it all,” I added, trying to recall the chaos of yesterday morning. “We were slammed. He had a lot of orders shouted at him—”

“Which I’m sure he was used to, being in the military.” She rolled her eyes. “I doubt that set him over the edge.”

“Yes, thank you. But he was working that espresso machine like a champ, pulling espresso for all the lattes, cappuccinos, mochas and Americanos people were ordering. He was also pouring coffee from the pots as well. You were outside, but behind the counter we were all pitching in, helping fill orders.”

“And you think he saw Mia stomping up to the counter and stirred a little cyanide into her coffee—for the heck of it?”

I thought about that. It didn’t seem right, but I had little time to ponder why. My train of thought was broken by a basket of rolls plopped between us, immediately followed by a curt, “Ladies.”

At the sound of the voice, Kennedy and I sprang apart like a couple of note-passing teenagers. “Oh, hello, hon,” waitress Karen said, recognizing me. “The jeans and T-shirt threw me off. Is it just you two tonight, or will you be expecting another?” The way she said “another” left little doubt as to whom she was referring to.

“Just us,” I quickly assured her.

Karen gave a curt nod and took our drink order. She was just about to head to the next table when she stopped. “Hey, so what’s going on with your lighthouse bakeshop? Heard some woman died there yesterday.

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