The secrets in the scone.., p.1
The Secret's in the Scones, page 1
The Secret’s in the Scones: A Whimsical Bakery Mystery
Trilogy Christian Publishers A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network
2442 Michelle Drive Tustin, CA 92780
Copyright © 2023 by Leslie Lantrip
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Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, incidents, and places are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Resemblances to persons, living or dead, incidents, and places are purely coincidental.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN: 979-8-89041-375-8
E-ISBN: 979-8-89041-376-5
Dedication
For my sister, Theresa Craft. Thanks for always being there for me. I’ll be forever grateful for the time we had together.
Chapter 1
“Well, if that isn’t the cat’s meow.” Eyeing a silhouette outside the kitchen window, I moved closer. Upon further scrutiny, I realized it was that feisty feline of mine.
“What are you doing, Ashton?” I asked.
He arched his back while mouthing a hearty “meow” through the glass.
“What’s got him so riled up, Ruby?” Sophie asked as she cocked her head in the direction of my curiosity.
“Who knows?” I shook my head.
My thoughts drifted back to the phone call I’d received yesterday. My dream of acting and singing at the Iris Cove Theatre seemed to be drifting further and further away from me. It had been a miracle to get the audition for the part in the first place. Here I am, nearing my twenty-third birthday and another rejection. How many years am I going to spend chasing this dream?
Shutting the water off at the sink, I observed Ashton sprint away and turned my attention to Sophie’s task. “That smells scrumptious. What are you mixing up?” I inched closer. Peering over her shoulder, I dried my hands on an amusing pumpkin patch towel. Aunt Claire never missed an opportunity to decorate for fall, or any holiday, for that matter. I sighed, remembering how my mother did as well.
“Chocolate chip scones for the book club meeting tonight.” Sophie rubbed the back of her neck and then continued to whisk the flour and sugar mixture together in the large metal bowl. A ray of sunlight crept through the window, revealing dark circles beneath her eyes.
“Are you all right?” I placed a hand on her shoulder.
Sophie rolled her eyes, “Oh, I’m okay. I’ll fill you in later.”
“Are you sure?” I quizzed, my curiosity now piqued.
Before she could answer, Uncle Eli returned from the large industrial size refrigerator, carrying a stick of butter. “You want to make sure the butter is frozen.” Dressed for work in his usual starched white shirt, white apron, and black pants, he sported a professional countenance.
I resolved myself to the fact that I would have to wait to find out what was bothering Sophie. She would reveal more details when she was ready. We’d grown up together in Iris Cove and had been best friends since kindergarten. It was only natural I would be concerned for her.
“Why does butter make everything taste good?” Sophie said with a rhetorical air as she blended the butter into the flour mixture. “If we hadn’t gotten slammed at lunchtime, these would be done by now.” Peering up at the clock, she quickened her pace. “I hope my first attempt tastes delicious.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be perfect,” Aunt Claire said absentmindedly as she continued to clean the day’s flour spills from the counter. In the next moment, she stiffened as her head reared up to examine the faces in the room, searching for a reaction to her comment as if she had said something wrong. Had she slipped and almost revealed a secret? There was something extraordinary about the bakery. I’d never witnessed anything being burned or thrown out. Bake goods popped out of the oven perfectly, even the coffee orders. Aunt Claire commented on that very fact once before, but when I asked her what she meant, she stuttered a bit before changing the subject.
The doorbell’s chime steered me up to the front of the store. Evie Barbour stood by a table overlooking the river in deep thought as her thumbs flew across her phone screen. Employed at Lovely Locks salon across the alley, she was well on her way to becoming one of the most sought-after stylists in town. In the past year, she had cultivated a large client list and was in high demand. I never doubted her talents but had always used the owner, Madeline, as my stylist.
The Today’s Special Board read: Pumpkin Spice Latte. Busying myself, I opened the medium roast coffee canister to start a fresh batch but was disappointed to find it almost empty. Turning around from the coffee station counter, I took a step back to find Evie on the other side of the register. She glared at me through dark green eyes. How long had she been there?
“May I help you?” I asked, gathering my composure.
“I’ll have a medium pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream, and don’t give me the old cream that’s sat out all afternoon. I want the fresh stuff,” Evie demanded.
What brought on her demanding attitude? I leaned over the counter as something slipped out of her hand and spotted a small book on the floor. With knitted brows, she bent down to retrieve it and tucked it inside her oversized purse.
After punching her coffee order into the register, I reached for a signature Bake Someone Happy cup and wrote her name on it. “That will be $4.99.” I forced a smile.
Evie returned my smile with a manufactured one of her own before peeking behind the counter. “By the way, where is Slade? Isn’t he supposed to be at work?”
I eyed the wall clock and replied, “He’s scheduled to work the closing shift, but he called saying he was running late.”
“I thought he said to stop by the bakery this afternoon,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. She stood for a moment biting the nail of her index finger before she asked, “So, he hasn’t been at work all afternoon?”
“No, he hasn’t,” I replied. What was her interest in Slade? After all, he and Sophie were an item. Slade came to work at Bake Someone Happy last spring and, by summer, had charmed Sophie into a steady relationship.
Evie smirked and slammed a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change.” She took a sip of her coffee before walking off in a huff.
Shaking my head, I headed to the break room and made my way over to the supply shelves. As I rummaged through canisters, someone stomped into the storeroom and slammed the door. I spied through the shelf and glimpsed a young man holding a phone to his ear. The familiar lime green phone cover embellished with a black spider belonged to only one person. Handsome barista Slade had unusual taste. He dressed in vintage fashion and often shopped at Déjà Vu, which was known for its ’80s retro fashions. The throwback store aided him in finding his Members Only black jacket, which he wore fashionably.
“Look, I told you not to call me anymore.” After a pause of silence, Slade said, “I don’t respond well to threats.” There was another pause of silence. “We’ll see about that. Don’t ever call me again.” Slade ended the call before jamming his phone into his pocket. He took off his distinctive jacket, hung it on the coat rack designated for employees, and exited the storeroom.
Who would threaten Slade? I gathered two new coffee canisters before leaving the storeroom. I struggled to juggle the heavy load through the hallway as I caught up with him and Sophie at the front counter. As I approached, she snapped at him in a low voice before stepping away.
“Having a rough day?” I asked. What business could Evie have with Slade? I put the containers on the counter and turned to listen to his response.
“Why do you ask?” Slade responded while opening a canister.
“Well, for one reason, you called saying you were running late. Why did you even bother coming in? The bakery will close soon.” I squinted, shaking my head.
“Something came up that I wasn’t expecting. Besides, the book club meeting will start shortly,” Slade said as he scooped coffee into the coffeemaker.
“By the way, Evie came in earlier. She asked about you.”
“Evie was here?” Slade reddened.
“She ordered coffee and seemed surprised you weren’t at work.” I searched his eyes for answers. My mother once said, “The eyes never lie.”
Ignoring my comment, Slade leaned down to pet my pearl gray cat on his furry head. My independent feline sat on the floor behind the counter and meowed with half-closed eyes in response to the attention.
“Is everything all right?” I reached for Ashton, but he slipped from my hands.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Slade reached up with both hands to smooth his dark hair away
“Ashton, you know you’re not supposed to be in the bakery,” I lectured. Attempting to pick him up was useless. “What’s gotten into you today?” He scurried to the stairs and trotted up to the second floor of the bakery. The upstairs had recently been updated and served as living quarters for my aunt and uncle. It wasn’t unusual to find Ashton snoozing on their living room couch during the day.
Aunt Claire’s shrill voice interrupted my thoughts of Ashton. “Eli, answer me.”
What’s going on? I moved toward her frail voice down the hallway. Slade followed close behind me. Upon entering the kitchen, I caught sight of my uncle unconscious, lying on the floor near the oven. My aunt leaned over him, applying a wet cloth to his forehead. Judging from the triangle shapes of dough arranged on the baking sheet lined with parchment paper, he was about to put scones in the oven.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Sophie said as she hung up the phone.
“What happened?” Slade asked.
“He fell while he was standing in front of the oven and passed out,” Aunt Claire answered.
“What is everyone fussing about?” Uncle Eli said, disoriented as he awoke.
“You fell before you could put the scones in the oven,” Aunt Claire said.
Trying to get up, he slinked back down.
“Now, Eli, take it easy. You don’t need to stand up too quickly.”
“I’m all right… just a little thirsty, that’s all,” Uncle Eli replied.
I rushed to fill a cup of water. “Here, take a drink,” I said, holding the cup near his face.
He leaned his head over and took a sip. “See, I feel better already,” he said with a weak voice.
“Aunt Claire is right. You should rest for a moment,” Sophie said.
Within a few minutes, the paramedics arrived and, after assessing the situation, put Uncle Eli on a stretcher.
“Ma’am, we need to take him to the hospital so they can run some tests.”
“I don’t need any tests; I’m fine,” he argued from the stretcher.
“Ruby, I’m not sure how long we’ll be. Please make sure Garland starts the meeting on time,” Aunt Claire said as she rushed along the stretcher toward the door.
“Don’t worry about the Baker’s Dozen. We’ll take care of it,” I answered.
“Please give us an update when you can,” Sophie said with concern.
After the ambulance drove away, I peered out the huge bakery window as an eerie mist settled over the Mississippi River. Sophie returned to the kitchen to finish the scones.
It wasn’t long before the glimmer of headlights flashed in through the window, causing me to blink, as members of the Baker’s Dozen arrived. Turning away from the glare, I drew my attention to the vibrant purple flowers and rose petals scattered along the wet pavement. Rose bushes and reblooming iris flowers surrounded the numerous shops and apartment buildings along the bluff overlooking the magnificent river.
As we prepared for the meeting, Sophie appeared at the counter and handed Slade a small book and a pink envelope. He frowned as he studied the items. After starting the coffeemaker, he opened the letter and perused its contents. A moment later, he shook his head and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Realizing I had forgotten my copy of Pride and Prejudice, I marched to the storeroom to retrieve it from the table by the window. As I entered, lightning blinked through the blinds, followed by a loud rumbling. Suddenly, I slipped, nearly falling. Where did this water come from? Startled and shivering, I breathed in a whisper of rain from the open window. This wasn’t open earlier. I jerked the blinds away from the window to close it. Seeing that all was right again, I picked up my book before exiting the room.
Sophie placed her freshly baked scones on a gold three-tiered serving tray and carried them into our meeting, placing them in the center of our table. Our special spot was located in the front of the shop’s massive window with a perfect river view. I set my book down as I heard the front door open.
Wearing a flattering rust-colored dress complemented by brown heels, Adeline Whitlock, the librarian at Iris Cove Library, was the first member to enter. As she strolled in, she appeared much younger than her forty-one years of age. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed she was in her late twenties. Maybe it was the way she dressed or the way she wore her highlighted brown hair pulled up in a youthful ponytail.
“Hello, lovely weather we’re having,” Adeline said with a chuckle as she waved over in my direction. Standing near the coffee station, I waved back. Slade gave a weak nod but appeared lost in his thoughts.
She drew near as she closed her umbrella, and I caught the scent of floral perfume. Moving in Slade’s direction, she leaned over the counter before saying, “Did you know you’ve got a book due today? If you need to recheck it out, just let me know.”
Reaching under the counter, Slade produced his copy of Pride and Prejudice and laid it on top of the counter. “You can take it with you. I’m finished with it, anyway.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Adeline said as she retrieved the book.
Slade nodded his head before taking a drink of his coffee. His manner was solemn. Did it have anything to do with the phone call earlier? And what did Sophie give him?
Leave it to Adeline to remember a book was due. She shook the remaining raindrops from her umbrella before tucking it away. Hugging herself as she rubbed both arms dry, she strode away from the counter.
Amanda Stiles and Jackson Hart scurried in, sprinkled with raindrops. They had been dating for a year and gave all appearances of being the perfect couple. Sharing a love for reading, they came to know each other at the library. Adeline noticed them frequenting the establishment and, thinking they needed a little nudge, introduced them.
“Hello, everyone,” Amanda said as she smiled. She stunned the eye, dressed in an exquisite burgundy pantsuit with a matching floral blouse. An interior decorator by trade, it was not surprising to find her taste in clothing and accessories impeccable. I wouldn’t mind raiding her closet.
Jackson towered over his girlfriend as they made their way to our usual table. He closed a huge navy umbrella before sticking it under his chair. Amanda raved about his job as photojournalist for the Iris Cove Herald and how much he adored it.
Reese Carol strode through the door, dressed in designer jeans complemented by a sky-blue Izod shirt. He never wore the same thing twice. He never had to. He worked at his parents’ consignment shop, Déjà Vu. I heard his phenomenal singing voice once in a musical at the Iris Cove Theater. It seemed to have aided him in being popular with the ladies. Although appealing to the eye, I’d never seen him with a steady girlfriend. He’d only been a member of Baker’s Dozen for the past two months and was doing his best to build a rapport with everyone.
My next-door neighbor and former fifth-grade teacher, Gloria Applebee, rushed inside and wiped her feet on the doormat before depositing her umbrella beside the door. She frowned as she made her way over to the meeting table. Retired from the teaching profession, she worked part-time at Perfect Petals, her daughter’s flower shop. Happily married with two grown children out of the house, she had only her husband to cook for. On occasion, she gifted me with their leftovers. I enjoy baking, but I’m no chef, so I appreciated the generous helpings of delicious food.
Garland Curry promenaded in behind Evie Barbour and Jolene Monet. He rambled on in Evie’s ear, but it was quite clear she wasn’t paying him any attention. Garland followed her around in such a way as a smitten boyfriend would. Were they an item or just friends?
I knew they couldn’t be best friends. Jolene had that honor. She and Evie shared a love of fashion and were often seen together shopping at the mall. They took seats at the end of the table, with Garland plopping down next to Evie. Once seated, he unbuttoned his navy blue jacket revealing a starched white shirt dotted with bright green polka dots. He reached up to pat his gelled brown hair back into place. A flamboyant dresser who wore Polo cologne, he worked as a food critic for the same newspaper as Jackson. It was the perfect job for him, being that he is very opinionated and enjoys fine dining.
It was no secret he was effective in his line of work because a recommendation from him could mean success for a business. But this influence worked both ways. Café Corinne suffered a decline in business for almost two weeks because of an unfavorable article he wrote regarding their service. Evie said the manager upset him one night when they were there for dinner. Apparently, the waitress and Garland had exchanged words of disagreement about his dinner order. When the manager defended his employee, it infuriated Garland. How would he react if he knew Evie was in the bakery asking for Slade this afternoon?
