Murder With Sprinkles: A Bite-sized Bakery Cozy Mystery Book 11 by Point Rosie A

Author:Point, Rosie A.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

11

Working on the food truck usually cheered me up. I was never more refreshed and joyful than when I had cakes to serve and people to talk to. Especially, since break-times included delicious snacks from the truck and refreshing sodas or milkshakes. But today was different.

I was stumped. Bee was in a mood.

The mayor was innocent.

Then who?

The question had drifted through my mind continuously, and there were hardly any customers to distract me.

We’d had ten in the last three hours, and each fo them had been ready to bolt when a car had driven by or someone had exited one of the stores opposite the town square. We were parked in the busiest part of town, yet the Bite-sized Bakery food truck was ringed in an almost impenetrable circle of silence.

“Who could it be?” I asked, breaking the tension.

Bee sighed and opened the back of one of the glass cases. She removed two cake slices covered in rainbow sprinkles and handed one to me.

“I thought we weren’t eating on the truck,” I said, my mouth watering. Bee’s cakes were always perfectly moist and light, the frosting soft as spun sugar, and the sprinkles flavored and crunchy.

“We need a pick me up,” Bee replied, and took a bite of her cake. She chewed, eyes narrowed as she scanned the square, the stores, and the people passing by. Occasionally, one would spot us, flinch and then hurry away.

“You’d swear we were wearing scary costumes,” I said.

“Or holding blood-stained machetes.”

“Machetes? Why machetes?”

Bee took another bite of her cake. “It’s got to be Sara,” she said, around her mouthful of cake. “Think about it—she was the one who got the mayor out of the house and to that charity event.”

“But she’s so nice.”

“Nice people can be psychopaths.” Bee gestured with her half-eaten cake. “You know, there’s nice, and then there’s too nice. And there’s ‘smiling while you murder someone in cold blood’ nice.”

I shuddered. “What if she was at the charity event too? We could get a copy of that tape and find out if she was there. Then she’d have an alibi.”

“Sure, but I don’t trust her. She wasn’t the one on stage under scrutiny. She could’ve slipped out at any point and gone home. Prepared whatever murder weapon she had on hand, then killed Gillian and dumped her body in the creek.”

Which happened to run right by the mayor’s house.

“Maybe.”

“Why maybe? She’s the most solid lead we have,” Bee said.

“What about the chef? Remember the purple stain on his collar?” I asked. “It could’ve been him.”

“I don’t know about—who on earth is that?”

A young woman dressed all in pink—tube top, short shorts, and a pair of glittering stilettos—trotted toward the food truck. A shock of familiarity passed over me. It was the pink-haired lady I’d bumped into in the bathroom at the Diggin’ It Diner.

What was her name again?

She stopped in front of the food truck and studied our selection. “Do these have carbs?” she asked.

Bee choked on her bite of cake.

“Hello,” I said.

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