Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 7 - 9 Read online

  Pippa was usually in bed by 8:00pm these days, requiring more sleep than a koala bear thanks to pregnancy hormones. But Harrison's phone call said he couldn't wait. He needed to meet up with us immediately, and Pippa didn't want to be left behind.

  He hadn't wanted to meet at his home, or anywhere where he might attract suspicion. So, back to the bakery we went, Pippa almost dozing off during the car ride. He was already waiting for us when we pulled into the parking lot.

  "They say they're going to hurt her," he said desperately before we'd even exited the car.

  "Who's 'they'?" I asked calmly.

  "The person who has Angel! They say they're going to hurt her if I don't get the money to them within forty-eight hours."

  I glanced at Pippa, who was shivering. From the cold or from nerves, I couldn't tell.

  "And you spoke to them on the phone?" I asked.

  Harrison shook his head, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "They text me," he said.

  I frowned. "Come on, let's go inside."

  "No one saw you come here, did they?" Harrison asked as I ushered him inside.

  "No," I said, thinking he sounded paranoid. But I supposed that was understandable. His worst nightmare was coming true. He had a right to be paranoid.

  In the relative warmth of the kitchen, I asked to see his phone. Of course, all the texts were from a private number. And they were all short, with no distinguishing features to give anything away about the kidnapper.

  The last message was exactly what Harrison said it was.

  You've got 48 hours. Or your daughter will pay.

  I handed the phone back to Harrison. "You should really go to the police."

  He stared at me in disbelief. "And what? Make SURE they hurt her? I'm not stupid, Rachael."

  He must have seen the look on my face because he immediately apologized for his anger. "I'm just upset. Frustrated. I can't believe this is happening."

  "I understand. It must be unbearable."

  He looked up at me sharply. "Does this mean you'll take the case, Rachael? Please, you can see why I can't go to the police. This person is crazy. They'll hurt my little girl. I need your help. I know what you did for Angel's mother." He drifted off a little. "I know you can help me now."

  I glanced at Pippa. Her face didn't give much away. We'd already agreed, together, that we'd help, but now she looked reluctant again.

  "You know this isn't my area of expertise," I said. I wanted him to know what he was getting into before he...what, hired me? I frowned a little, wondering exactly what our arrangement was going to be here.

  "I know you're an amazing detective," he said. "And I need someone with no connection to the police force."

  Pippa and I exchanged a secretive glance. Well, I wasn't CONNECTED to the police force, not exactly. I wasn't a part of it. I just kind of, sort of knew a police detective.

  But Jackson Whitaker didn't need to know anything about this. And if I took the case, he wouldn't.

  "Please," Harrison begged.

  I nodded. "We're on board, Harrison. Let's find Angel and get her back."

  "I don't understand," I said, once I'd listened to Harrison's long spiel. "If you're so sure it's this guy, why don't you go to the police? This would all be over. Why don't you go to the guy's house?"

  Harrison just stared at me blankly.

  "Because I don't have proof," he said. "And I don't know why he's holding her. All I know is that he has a motive to hurt me."

  I glanced at Pippa before I turned back to Harrison. "And you think he'd hurt Angel to get to you?"

  Harrison nodded. "He was really pissed off when I fired him. I mean, really, really pissed off."

  I took a deep breath. It was all a lot to take in.

  Pippa spoke up. "So, you fired this guy, Callum Jones, two weeks ago?"

  Harrison nodded. "The firm is losing money. We've had to fire our best lawyers, not just Callum. But Callum took it the hardest because he's been with me from the start. He didn't seem to believe me either, about just how tight money is. Took the firing personally. He'll be out to get whatever he can get from me."

  "But that doesn't mean he would kidnap your daughter," I said. The whole thing was starting to sound crazy to me.

  "Angel went missing two nights ago," Harrison said firmly. "And no one has seen or heard from Callum since. Are you telling me that's just a coincidence?"

  I'd been doing this long enough to know there was no such thing as coincidence. But I also knew that looks could be deceiving. And, after learning my lesson the hard way, I knew not to jump to conclusions. That was what Harrison had done. A rookie mistake.

  "I'll take your case, Harrison. We'll do everything we can to find Angel. But you've got to let me do my job."

  "I'm telling you," he said angrily, cutting me off. "It's Callum Jones!"

  I held his gaze and kept my cool. "As I said, you're going to have to let me do my job. Let me use my skills, Mr. Styles, or I can't help you."

  He breathed in and out heavily. For a moment, I didn't think he was going to back down. I thought we were going to have trouble.

  "Fine," he finally said. "Do it your way Rachael. Just find Angel."

  Chapter 4

  Not another one.

  I felt warm breath against my neck. "I wish I'd stayed home today as well. Don't worry," the voice whispered. Simona.

  I turned to look at her. "Well, kids' birthday parties do pay the bills. And we need them paid." Especially since you're a new hire and I need to pay your wages, I thought. Simona sure did a lot of complaining for someone who had only just started working here.

  She shrugged and flicked her long black ponytail over her shoulder. "Doesn't mean we have to like it." She caught the look on my face and laughed. "Come on, Rachael," she teased. "I'm just joking around. Well, kind of. I really do hate kids."

  A shrieking sound came from the front of the bakery. This time, the party was large enough that we'd shut down the entire place just for them. One young boy was getting high on sugar and using a giant inflatable sword to playfully hit another one on the head. Great.

  This time, it was a boy's birthday party. I might not have known much about kids in general, but I knew even less about boys. They were like aliens to me, and Simona and I were both hanging back awkwardly while Pippa tended to the carnage. Thank goodness she was there.

  Pippa, swift and nimble, swooped into the gang and gently chided them with her hands on her hips. "Now, who wants a second serving of dessert?" she asked playfully, letting them know that if they didn't calm down, they wouldn't get any.

  "Is more sugar a good idea?" Simona whispered to me.

  I shrugged. "It's pretty much all we have to serve."

  Simona took her apron off. "I'm going for a smoke break."

  I made a face. I hadn't known that Simona smoked before I hired her. Not that I would discriminate against anyone for anything, but smoking was gross. At least she never came back inside smelling like it or we would have had trouble.

  I could see how eager she was to escape outside. I kind of wanted to go with her. But there were twenty boys running around my bakery in danger of tearing it apart, so I had to remain rooted. "Hey," I called just as Simona hit the back door. "Why don't you just take the afternoon off? Looks like you're not really enjoying it here today."

  She shot me the same defensive look as she had the other day when I'd asked her to wash the dishes, but it quickly changed. She grinned and nodded. "I'll have my cigarette then take off. If you're sure. Thanks! I kind of can't wait to get out of here!" She shot a look at the boys still running around like little demons.

  "I'm sure. Pippa's here."

  Pippa hobbled over to the counter, waiting until her face was turned away from the guests to show her pain.

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  She winced a little. "I don't know," She reached a hand down over her belly.

  "Is it the baby?" I gasped. I rushed over to her. "Pippa?"
>
  She shook her head. "No, no, I don't think so. I'm just feeling a little faint. It's kind of hot in here."

  "Kind of overcrowded," I agreed with her. "Sit down for a while! Please."

  She shook her head. "I can't. We're too busy."

  "I can take care of the boys for a few minutes while you rest. Take a seat in the back, Pippa."

  She was almost keeled over at that point. "Uh-oh," I said. "Pippa, do you need to go to the hospital?"

  She looked up and shook her head as she offered me a weak smile. "No. It's not that bad. Seriously, it's just a little dizzy spell...looking after all of those little monsters," she said with a little smile, nodding towards the party.

  "Right," I said. "You need to go home then, at least."

  "No, I'll just sit for a minute. I can't leave you here all on your own!"

  "I'm not on my own, Simona is... Oh, shoot!" I said, making sure Pippa was sitting down before dashing out the back via the kitchen, almost sending a tray of cookies crashing to the floor as I went. I tumbled into the back lot and caught Simona just as she was putting out her cigarette with the toe of her boot.

  "Simona," I called out, cringing apologetically. "I'm sorry. Looks like I’m gonna need you after all."

  My phone rang fourteen times before I finally got the notification. A room full of twenty screaming six-year-old boys can do that.

  It was Harrison. Fourteen missed calls? For a moment, I considered the possibility that Angel had been found and knew I had to call him back. Maybe the mystery was over before it had even begun. Pippa would be relieved. And right at that moment, she definitely didn't need any more stress.

  "Simona," I called to her quietly. "Can you take care of things for five minutes on your own?"

  She shot me a look. One that said, I can't believe I left Bakermatic for this. Well, the place went out of business, technically. But I could see the regret shining in her eyes anyway.

  "Please," I mouthed to her. "I need to take this call."

  Ah, the sweet silence of the outside was heavenly. I took a minute to just lean against the back door and take it in before I even took the phone out of my pocket. I was already dreading going back inside, even though I felt guilty for having those thoughts. What kind of aunt was I going to be to Pippa's child if I couldn't bear more than five minutes of being around children? I had to remind myself that it would just be one child and not twenty at once. I also had to remind myself that when it’s your own child, or niece/nephew, it is different. You would do anything for them if that was the case.

  Harrison Styles must have been going out of his mind with worry. I couldn't even fathom what he was going through, but it was certainly more stressful than looking after a few sugar-fueled kids. My guilt started going into over-drive. I dug my phone out of my pocket and hurried to return his call.

  "Rachael?" he asked.

  "It's me," I said, trying to read the tone in his voice. There was no relief there. Angel hadn't been found then. "What's going on, Harrison?"

  "Where are you?" he asked.

  I gritted my teeth. "I'm working on the case," I said. "Don't worry."

  I pressed my hand to the receiver as Simona pushed through the door and started begging me for help. "I really need you back in here, Rachael."

  "Just one moment!" I whispered back, waving her away.

  I put the phone back to my ear.

  "Are those children I can hear screaming in the background?"

  I took a deep breath. "Yes," I had to admit. "I'm hosting a children's party."

  "So you are at work?" Harrison asked me.

  "Harrison, I have to keep the bakery open," I said. I couldn't shut the whole thing down. I was doing the best I could, trying to go over all the notes I had on Angel in any spare second I got. Trying to piece together what had happened to her. But it was like I'd told Harrison—I had no experience with kidnappings. And I still thought he should go to the police.

  "Have you investigated Callum Jones yet?" Harrison asked.

  "Yes," I said simply. "You're right. He hasn't been seen, not even heard from, in two days. But that doesn't mean anything, Harrison."

  Before the party of twenty little monsters had arrived that afternoon, Pippa and I had been hard at work trying to piece the puzzle together. Callum Jones lived alone, unmarried, in an apartment in the center of town—close to where my apartment had been, before we had to move to the middle of nowhere.

  We'd gotten up at the break of dawn that morning and, after making sure the bakery was open and our apprentice Bronson was hard at work, we'd driven up to the apartment building where Callum Jones lived.

  "Nice," Pippa had commented. The apartment block was new and was the kind that housed young professionals, with a lot of money and few family responsibilities. "Hey, look," Pippa had said, pointing to a sign. "It says that these apartments have a concierge, maids, and all kinds of other services!"

  So. Callum Jones DID have a lot of money to spend. Or, at least, he'd had a lot of money before he'd been fired by Harrison. Or so I assumed. You don't spend money on apartments like this unless you are earning so much you can afford to spend all your money on a maid service to do your housework for you. It was the kind of thing that a person with more money than time would use. Like a lawyer.

  I blinked as I looked at the sign, double checking. Yes, all the apartments came furnished, and all had access to the kinds of perks that only rich people could afford. That would mean that Callum Jones wouldn't be able to squirrel away in his apartment all day and not talk to anyone. If the rooms were cleaned, he'd have to be disturbed, at least once a day.

  "Let's go in," I'd said to Pippa.

  "What about the birthday party? The kids are all arriving at one o'clock."

  "We'll be back by then. Trust me."

  The complex required a passcode to enter the lobby. Darn it. I blinked a few times and pressed my nose up to the glass. There was a tired looking security guard there, eyes drooping and holding a disposable cup of coffee. I waved at him to get his attention. He shot me a weary look, but shuffled over to the door.

  "Hey," I said to Pippa. "This might actually work."

  He pulled the door open, much to my surprise. "Hey," I said. "We forgot our passcode."

  "Uh-huh," he said, unconvinced as he raised his eyebrows.

  I grinned up at him. He was tall, a little over six foot, and both Pippa and I were dwarfed by him. I figured I may as well just be upfront. He looked like a man who didn't love his job, and he also looked like a man who respected candidness. Sneakiness works with some people in this business—the mystery solving business, I mean—and there are plenty of people you HAVE to lie to. But you've also got to know when to change tactics. I was getting better at reading people. I knew this guy just wanted me to be straight with him.

  "We're looking for a man named Callum Jones," I said and Pippa's eyebrows shot up. Maybe she hadn't been expecting that level of candidness.

  There was also a surprised look in the guard's eyes. I saw that his name tag read "Drew."

  "Callum Jones?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said eagerly. "Do you know him?"

  "Course," he said. "I know everyone who lives in this building."

  "Have you seen him today?" I asked.

  Drew looked at me with an amused look dancing in his eyes. "You're not one of his girlfriends, are you?"

  I felt my cheeks reddening. One of his girlfriends. How many were there? I shook my head quickly, then immediately stopped. Time to change tactics.

  "Um, well, yes," I said, hanging my head a little. "I suppose you could call me that. I'm not sure Callum calls me that," I said, pouting a little. I was going for the sympathy card now. "I feel so stupid for just coming here, for just turning up like this." I forced a few tears into my eyes and caught the sight of Pippa's face. I couldn't tell if she was impressed or disgusted with me.

  Drew gave me a knowing look. "You could do better than that guy," he said. He was being nice.
It made me feel guilty. It was the day for that emotion. "You shouldn't go looking so sad over a creep like him."

  Pippa and I exchanged a secret little look.

  I let out a heavy, over-exaggerated sigh. "I suppose you're right," I said, biting my lip. I made sure that the tears remained shimmering in my eyes. "Thank you, Drew." He smiled at me in surprise. I sighed again. "I’m going to go right upstairs and tell him so," I said firmly. "You've given me the strength to do that, Drew. I'd better go while I still have the courage! Oh—" I stopped suddenly. "Shoot, I can't even remember what apartment number he is in," I said. "58?" I said, pulling out a random number and hoping that Drew would correct me with the right number.

  "Oh," Drew said, shaking his head. "Callum isn’t home at the moment."

  "Are you sure?"

  He nodded firmly. "I know everyone who comes and goes, I told ya that. If you don't believe me, come and see the log on the computer."

  I frowned heavily and put on an exaggerated look of outrage. "If he's up there with some other girl, Drew, I would appreciate it if you just told me! I can handle it, you know!"

  Drew shook his head fiercely. I could see Pippa biting her lip behind him, trying not to laugh. I was clearly impressing her with my amazing acting skills. "No," he said, hurrying to reassure me. "Callum hasn't been here at all in two days. Come on, sweetheart, stop crying. I'll show you the logs."

  I shot a little wink at Pippa.

  "I'm not really supposed to be showing you these," Drew said as he brought up a green and black screen on an ancient looking computer. It was the sort of model I'd had as a child in 1994. He had to scroll up a bit before he found what he was looking for. "See? Been a while since Callum Jones came in or out of this place." He pressed a stubby finger against the screen. "Last time he logged out was two days ago, at four in the afternoon."

  I leaned forward. Callum Jones. 4:04.

  I needed to double check with Harrison. Find out the last time that Angel was seen. "Did you see this, Pippa?" I asked her. "Remember that time. 4:04." My fake tears were all dried up by this stage.

  Drew leaned back and gave me a funny look. "Who are you two?" he said, quickly turning the screen away from me. He looked like he'd been betrayed.