Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes (Culinary Competition Mysteries Book 3) (6 page)

What appeared to be a former coffee shop probably couldn't compete against the bottomless cups of rich, dark coffee served up at The Breakfast Spot only three doors down. Bea and Tom's restaurant was one of the busiest and most popular places for people to eat breakfast in Kellerton. Amy pulled out her phone to take pictures. The space could be perfect for Mariah and her budding cake business. Amy took a closer look at the
For Rent
sign. It was posted by Mahoney Property Management, the company of mega-rich Bridget Mahoney. Since Amy knew the real estate maven from participating in many of the philanthropist's charity fundraising events, maybe she could help hook Mariah up with her dream bakery.

"Look at that bouquet. Isn't that one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen?" Amy asked as she edged closer to the vendor's table. A dozen women were crowded in front of it examining the bouquets made of vintage buttons and rhinestone jewelry. "You want unique. Those definitely qualify."

Carla squeezed in between a mother and daughter duo dressed in pink zebra print T-shirts that said
Bride
and
Mother of the Bride
spelled out in black glitter paint across their chests. The pair even had matching black tulle hair bows fastened at the bases of their equally perky ponytails. Carla bent to examine one of the sparkling bouquets then backed out from between the uber-coordinated family. She nodded. "I do like those, especially the smaller arrangements with the colored rhinestones."

Amy snatched one of the business's brochures off the corner of the table. She flipped it open. "They are a much better keepsake than freeze-dried flowers. Unfortunately, it says the bouquets need to be ordered at least six months in advance."

Carla ran her fingers through her short, sun-kissed hair, making it stand on end on the top of her head. "I'm going to stop walking around now. I want to see the winners announced for the contest you're in, not be constantly disappointed because I've found something for the wedding that I actually like but can't get in time. I set the date and put the plans in motion, there's no sense making myself cranky wishing for things I can't have."

The spiky look was actually pretty cute on Carla. She could pull off super short hair. It went well with her long and lean body type. Amy could never see herself with that type of haircut. She preferred long hair with lots of volume to even out the volume in her chest and butt. Amy jogged a few steps to catch up with her retreating friend. "But you
can
have a bouquet like that. I'll make it for you. A trip to the antiques market, a stop at the craft store, and I'll have all of the supplies I need. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. If you want a rhinestone bouquet then that's what you'll get."

"You're far too good to me." Carla wrapped Amy in a boa constrictor-style hug right in the middle of the crowded aisle. When she was done squeezing all of the air out of Amy's lungs, she pulled back. A tear glistened as it tumbled down her cheek. "You should hate me for asking you to plan my wedding like this. Instead you're offering to take on more work by making an elaborate bouquet. You're busy with a job and Alex. You don't have time for my nonsense."

The strain was obviously affecting Carla. An emotional display from her was as rare as a white truffle of the fungus variety. She was calm and completely rational ninety-eight percent of the time.

"You're my BFF. I'll support you…even if I do think you're a tad insane. A wedding is not nonsense." Amy squeezed Carla's hand. "You want to be married in two weeks. I've got your back. Everything will be fine."

"Thank you," Carla said as she wiped the tear off her cheek with the back of her free hand.

Amy tugged her toward a caterer's booth. Samples of eggplant mostaccioli, chicken piccata, and raspberry cheesecake were scattered across the table. She released her grip on the flight-risk bride to grab one of the cups of pasta and a tiny plastic fork.

"I know we're juggling a lot of balls, but you do remember Riverbend is catering the wedding right? We don't need to check out caterers," Carla said when Amy returned to her side. The unusually emotive bride's normal, straight-to-the-point persona had returned.

"I'm just checking out the competition for future reference." Riverbend Café was taking care of the doughnut wedding cake along with hors d'oeuvres like bite-sized mozzarella and prosciutto grilled cheese sandwiches. The wedding would be the business's first foray into catering, the newest expansion Sophie had cooked up for the café. Amy took a bite of the room temperature pasta. "Needs more salt and some herbs. It's bland. Your food will be much better than this."

"Good to know." Carla stopped to take a closer look at an array of table centerpieces. She shook her head. "Way too fancy. By the way, I asked Bruce to give me a list of beers he wants. Still haven't gotten it. I'm about ready to start stapling notes to his sleeves. We may be making a run to the liquor store the night before the wedding to get booze. He isn't having much luck with the case, so he's even more distracted than normal. He said it's like chasing a ghost. So if you hear about anything that might have to do with the murder, please let him know."

"That's not good. I'll see what I can find out. He needs to focus on his bride, not a crazy murderer."

Carla yawned as she nodded in agreement. The aroma of smoky, barbecued meat drifted from a serving table on the left side of the aisle. Amy stopped and waited for people to move aside so she could grab a sample. A woman in a red T-shirt with a blue bandanna tied around her head was putting out more samples of smoked chicken. She looked up when Amy approached the table.

"Well, hi there. How are you doing? I bet you're here for one of the cake contests."

Amy recognized the woman. Brooke was one of the regular vendors at the summer farmer's market. Her bright red food truck always made the area smell like a backyard barbecue.

"I'm doing well. You're right, I entered the Trending Flavors contest, but my friend is getting married, so we're looking around before the awards ceremony. How are you?"

"I can't complain." She handed Amy one of the small cups full of pulled chicken. "Had some problems finding places to sell over the winter, but everything's going great now that the seasonal farmer's markets are open again. Also, I'm thrilled with how many people would like my truck to serve the food at their wedding receptions. I'm so glad I came here."

"That's wonderful." Food trucks were a hot trend. The best trucks drew huge crowds. Having one serve food at a wedding was a great twist on a traditionally catered meal. "As popular as your truck is, I can't imagine who wouldn't want you to park near their business."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "It was just a weird situation. The owner of Crowe's Auto Parts invited me to park at any of his stores for lunch. He figured my food would appeal to his customers. It did. I sold out every day, even when it was super cold. But Mr. Crowe kept demanding more from me in exchange for setting up in his parking lots. It started with a ten percent discount for store employees, which I was glad to do. Then he started asking for money as rent for the space. Every week the price went up until I'd had enough and stopped going there."

"What an unpleasant situation." Was this Mr. Crowe related to Luke? It almost had to be. What were the chances of more than one Crowe family owning a chain of auto parts stores in the area? About as much of a chance as Brooke's barbecue tasting bad. Amy tipped the moist, shredded chicken into her mouth. Smoky, but not overpowering, with just the right amount of spicy heat from the sauce. "I'm glad you don't have to put up with that anymore."

"Me, too. You should've heard the nasty message he left on my voicemail after I told him I wouldn't be coming back." Brooke leaned closer to Amy. "My employees and I call him Crazy Crowe now."

Amy giggled. "I'd say he earned the nickname."

She chatted a few more minutes with the food truck owner while Carla spoke with a florist a few booths away. When a surge of hungry people descended on the booth, Amy said goodbye and met up with Carla to continue their bridal expo stroll. As they rounded the corner of the last row, Amy saw that people were already settling into the folding chairs set up in front of the stage. She checked the time on her phone. In twenty minutes, the winners of the cake contests would be announced.

She spotted Mariah's distinctive chartreuse chef's jacket in the middle of the sea of white chairs, next to the center aisle. Amy glanced at Carla, who was multitasking by texting and yawning at the same time. "Why don't we sit down? You look like you've had enough of the expo."

"Sounds good," Carla said distractedly as she looked up from her screen just in time to avoid stepping into the path of a pint-sized model, apparently from the fashion show that had recently ended, barreling through the crowd like a miniature runaway bride. The child's mother was in hot pursuit, but couldn't make it through the maze of people as easily. Even a massive skirt that was as wide as she was tall couldn't stop the tot on a mission.

Carla blinked at the unexpected chase scene then returned to her phone. It was definitely time to get her safely into a chair.

Mariah turned around as Amy settled into the seat behind her. A smile spread across her face. "Sophie said you compete in a lot of cooking contests. How do you handle the pressure? I'm so nervous I think my stomach is tied in a hundred knots."

The familiar butterflies armed with jackhammers and dynamite feeling. Amy knew it well. She did a quick search of her purse and located a roll of antacid tablets. As she offered them to Mariah, she said, "I always keep these in my purse. They help a bit. So does thinking about something else." She pointed at the junior bride scooting back through the crowd, now with three adults on her trail. "Like that little girl. Try to figure out why she is so intent on getting away from her mom."

Both Amy and Mariah watched the chaos as the child zeroed in on a target. She rushed at a table full of mini cupcakes, grabbed one topped with a mountain of bright purple icing and tried to stuff the whole thing in her mouth. Chocolate cake crumbs and gobs of colorful icing tumbled down the front of the bejeweled, white dress. The adult chase team was horrified, but the little blonde girl grinned like a cherub with a wicked sweet tooth turned loose in a bakery.

"Oh my, that is funny." Mariah shook her head and laughed. "I'm glad she didn't get on stage and start going after wedding cakes. The poor baby would've been disappointed with fondant-covered foam."

Amy watched as another wedding cake was carried from backstage by two burly men and set on the half-circle of tables arcing across the stage. Even though the Styrofoam forms were light, the fondant and decorations still added up to considerable weight for the towering wedding confections. Mariah's blue and brown cake stood out in the lineup because of its unusual color scheme. Carla's phone beeped from an incoming text. It reminded Amy of the pictures she had taken with her phone of the defunct coffee shop.

"Are you still looking for a space for your business?"

"Yes."

Amy held up her phone so Mariah could see the first picture. "I found this place in the strip mall where The Breakfast Spot is, partway between here and downtown. It used to be a coffee shop, judging from the sign. It was hard to tell, but I think there is a full kitchen behind the lobby area."

Mariah nodded as Amy scrolled through the pictures. "I know where you're talking about. I didn't realize there was ever a coffee shop in there. Must not have been in business long. If it does have a complete kitchen, looking at these pictures, I think it would be perfect."

"That's what I thought. I know the woman who owns the property management company that's renting it out. If you'd like, I can find out more about it. I'm sure you're busy with wedding season starting. There's no sense wasting time looking at a place that doesn't have a suitable kitchen space."

"Thank you! That would be great. Since you work at Riverbend now, you know pretty much what I need."

Amy exchanged phone numbers with Mariah and also took a couple of the new entrepreneur's business cards. Bridget Mahoney was roaming around the bridal expo. Amy had caught glimpses of the silver-haired real estate tycoon several times. Approaching her about the vacant coffee shop would be a good way to lead into some other questions. If any businesses besides Finley & Crowe were having problems, Bridget would most likely know since her companies owned a lot of real estate in Kellerton.

A woman wearing a silver sequin-covered dress walked on stage. There was a
pop
as she turned on the microphone. Mariah whirled around to face the announcer. The crowd in the seats quieted. Amy slipped her phone back into her purse. It was time to see what the judges thought of her fruit and flower-infused cake. She could see Mariah's knee bouncing up and down in nervous excitement.

"Good luck," Amy whispered into Mariah's ear.

Half an hour later, Amy hugged Carla goodbye while trying not to jab her with the trophy. Her cake had taken third place in the Trending Flavors contest. She thought Mariah was going to skitter right off the stage when she won first place for her cherry cake with whipped honey filling. Then the exuberant baker literally began bouncing up and down when she won the decorating competition, too. The wins would surely give her fledgling business a meteoric boost between the prize money, exposure to hundreds of potential customers, and prestige of sweeping both contests.

Once Carla was on her way home to take a much-needed nap before heading to the hospital for the night, Amy turned her attention to the last task of the day. Finding Bridget Mahoney. The expo was only open for another half hour so the aisles were much less crowded. By speed walking through the generous gaps between people, it took Amy only a few minutes to track down Mrs. Mahoney, who was chatting with a chef from one of the restaurants she owned.

"Amy, congratulations," Bridget said as she pointed at the trophy tucked under Amy's arm. "Your cake sounded divine. I have always loved citrus cakes."