Susan Gillard - Peanut Butter Fudge Murder

Table of Contents

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2016 by Guardian Publishing Group - All rights reserved.

All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Kids and adults stood beside their baking stations in the hall, smiles all around, while the gentle tinkle of Christmas music diffused between them. The windows showed clouds on the horizon, but the rays of the sun hadnt been beaten, yet.

Heather placed her palms flat on the table and admired their creation.

We should put M&Ms on the roof, Lilly said and pointed at the flat planes of the gingerbread house. We can use the frosting to make it stick.

Kind of like roof tiles? Amy asked, and took a bite of a sugary candy cane.

Youre supposed to decorate with that, Ames, not eat it, Heather said.

Just checking its good, she replied, and waved the half-eaten stick through the air. Wouldnt want to use sub-standard candy on our construction, you know. She crunched another bite.

Whatever you say, sweet tooth, Heather replied, and chuckled.

Lilly grabbed a bowl of pre-prepared frosting, a thin glaze for decoration, and dabbed it on the side of the house with a paintbrush. Its going to be the best house at the entire workshop.

Heather smiled at her daughter and squeezed her shoulder, gently. All that matters if we have fun making it.

And we get to eat it afterward, Amy put in.

The gingerbread workshop was a stroke of genius on the part of another local Hillside baker and businesswoman, Julie Brookes. Heather had insisted they come, and so far, itd been a grand success.

Is there a prize for first place? Amy asked.

No, its not a competition, Heather said. Its just for fun.

Well, Amy grumbled, Whos idea was that?

Heather scanned the room, filled with happy Hillside residents and their chatter. Gingerbread houses, some suspiciously small or far too tall, teetered on silver platters. Hers, Heather said, and pointed to the woman of the hour.

Julie Brookes paced between the tables and stopped to help here and there. Her auburn hair shone in its messy bun, and flour dust coated the apron shed tied around her neck.

She looks nice, Lilly said and pasted a blue M&M to the roof. Mom, I need more blues. Could you please get me more blues?

Heather glanced at the half-full bowl of red, green and yellow M&Ms. Sure, hon. Ill ask Julie if she has more supplies for us.

Awesome, Lilly said.

Amy slurped up, and M&M and Lils turned cold eyes on her. Did you eat all my blues?

What? No way, she replied and risked a grin. Her teeth were, of course, stained bright blue.

Heather pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, then set out across the hall. She was a giant in a land of gingerbread homes, and she couldnt help but stop at a table to admire a few of them.

She glanced up and pursed her lips. Julie had disappeared. No, no, there she was.

The host of the occasion strode toward a door at the far end of the hall.

Julie! Heather called out and raised her palm. The woman didnt hear her.

Julie Brookes swept toward the end of the hall. She halted, opened the door, then disappeared inside and shut it behind her.

Heather rushed between the rows of treats and happy constructers. Her heels tapped on the polished, hardwood floor, and she dusted off her blue jeans. She halted in front of the paneled pine door and raised her fist to knock.

A muffled shout rang out within, and she froze.

Noises, loud enough for her to hear but inaudible to those at the tables behind her echoed from within.

What are you doing here? A woman asked, her voice clear and calm. You scared me.

You know why Ive come, Julie Brookes. I warned you not to do this, another woman replied. Her voice was deeper than Julies but still feminine.

Heather glanced back at Lilly and Ames in the distance, but they were bent over the gingerbread house, oblivious.

Her sleuthin gene tingled. Intrigue chased through her mind. Shed never been much of an eavesdropper, but this sounded serious.

She leaned closer to the door.

Just leave me alone

You deserve this, the intruder replied. You deserve everything thats coming to you.

The hairs on Heathers neck stood up in a fearful salute. This was wrong. She had to call her husband or, no, shed interrupt it.

Heather grasped the handle and turned it. The door rammed against the frame but didnt open. Locked.

Julie?! Heather called out.

What are you doing? Julie yelled inside. Get away from me.

Silence and then a hollow thump.

Julie! Heather turned the knob again and rattled the door. Julie, can you hear me? Dread curled through her tummy.

Heather steeled herself, backed up a pace, then rammed the side of her body into the door. It creaked against the frame but didnt budge. Julie if youre in there, please say something.

People nearby halted and looked over at her. Murmurs spread through the crowd.

Heather stepped back from the door and whipped out her phone. She swiped the screen to unlock, then scrolled through her contacts list and tapped on Ryans name.

The phone rang three times.

Detective Shepherd, her husband answered.

Heather didnt let go of the door knob. Somethings wrong, she said.

What is it?

Julie Brookes entered her office, I think its her office, and I heard an argument in there. Ryan, you need to get down here, she said. Rising panic had garbled her words.

This shouldnt have bothered her, this much.

Wait, honey, slow down. Where are you?

Im at the gingerbread workshop, she said. Remember?

Yeah, I know. And what happened?

I heard an argument. Julie isnt opening the door, she said and swallowed. Ryan, please, get down here. You need to clear the hall and get inside. I have a really bad feeling about this.

And her bad feeling hadnt been wrong, to date.

Im on my way, he husband said.

Finally, Heather let go of the brass knob and turned back to the hall. Lilly and Amy chomped on candy at their station, oblivious of the emergency.

Chapter 2

Lilly and Ames had taken their gingerbread house back to Evas to dissect and devour their hard work in, most likely, a single sitting.

Heather leaned against the wall outside the hall and rubbed her upper arms, fingers swiping over the wool of her loose-knit sweater. This hadnt been how shed envisioned the end of a lazy Sunday afternoon, but so be it.

The office has been cleared, Ryan said, and halted beside her. His boots flattened the yellowing grass, and a bare tree stood at the entrance to the dirt parking area silent, watching.

Doors slammed, and Heather jerked upright and peered at the coroners van nearby.

Heather exhaled, slowly. All right, she said. So, its officially a murder case?

Yeah, Ryan replied. Julie Brookes is gone. Im sorry, love.

Its all right, she said, though it wasnt. I barely knew her. But somehow, this alarmed her more than any case theyd taken on in recent history.

Perhaps, it was because Julie Brookes had been a baker.

What do you have for me? Heather asked.

Not much yet, Ryan replied. Apart from a headache. And Hoskins. He gestured to the chubby police officer in the distance.