Real Women Eat Cake: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 1)
Read Real Women Eat Cake: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 1) Online
Authors: K. P. Hilton
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Amateur Sleuths, #Cozy, #Animals, #Women Sleuths, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Literature & Fiction
(A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery – Book 1)
K. P. Hilton
Betty Hitchens is preparing for the grand opening of her bakery, Betty's Cakes.
However, as the exciting day draws near, she's told that the storefront she occupies in downtown Yellow Rose, TX has problems which will delay the start of her new enterprise. To make matters worse, her daughter is giving her fits and a dead body is discovered in the alley behind her new shop. This generates plenty of publicity, only not the kind that she was hoping for.
Though the police are hard at work on the case, Betty and former newspaper reporter Martin Lane decide to help out with a little investigating of their own. Betty's persistent questions draw unwanted attention, however, and soon the killer's attention shifts to her and Martin.
Table of Contents
Copyright © 2015.
All rights reserved by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to any persons, living, or dead, are completely coincidental.
Betty Hitchens pulled the cake layer from her new commercial oven. Even though the fifty-year-old widow had been cooking for years, she never tired of the sticky sweet aromas. She'd taken an order for a giant wedding cake from her neighbor, Stella Watson, complete with blue and white fondant and wanted it to be the first cake she made in her new shop, Betty's Cakes. She'd been operating out of her home for the past few years and business had grown enough that she could afford the costs of a small storefront in the middle of downtown Yellow Rose, TX. She cut the test cake into thin wedges and carefully nibbled one. Pleased with the results, she had another.
Her husband had passed on half a decade previously. His government pension continued to arrive each month and, even though the amount wasn't much, it was enough for her and her then sixteen-year-old Brianna to live on. Her oldest, Bobbi, lived nearby but was married and didn't rely on her for support. After awhile, Betty grew bored of her daily routine of cooking, cleaning, and finding new hobbies to fill the hours of her days and had turned to baking. Enough of her friends thought Betty's cakes were better than most of the store-bought cakes and eventually she'd turned her avocation into a business, which she ran from her home.
Betty heard someone calling from out front. She brushed some errant crumbs from her face, wiped her hands on her apron, and went out to see who it was.
“Oh. Hello, Camden,” Betty said, smiling, still wiping her hands.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens. Thought you might be back there,” the burly man said. He was dressed in work overalls and a faded denim shirt. "Kind of early for you to be tinkering
around, isn't it?” Camden Jenkins, along with his son, were the men Betty had hired to install the cooking equipment and fixtures inside the storefront.
Betty shrugged. “I'm an early riser. After taking care of a few chores around the house, there was nothing else for me to do. So here I am.”
Camden nodded, indicating that he was still listening, even as he began inspecting his work from the day before. Now that the oven and sinks had been installed, he concentrated on a display case and shelving out in front. Besides cakes, Betty planned on making a small assortment of pastries. She and her husband had once vacationed in Montreal and she wanted to replicate some of the treats she'd fallen in love with years ago. Also, if the shop did well enough, she wanted to eventually make bread as well. But first things first.
“Morning, Ms. Hitchens,” David said, walking in. Camden's son was dressed similarly as his father and looked as eager to get to work. Betty returned his greeting and asked if either would like some of the coffee she'd brewed. Each politely declined.
“Got the furniture and other equipment for the front of the shop out in the truck,” Camden said. “Now that David's here, we'll start bringing it in.”
“That's great. I'm right on schedule to open the store first part of next week.”
Camden and David began unloading the tables and chairs. They were of a simple design and fit in with the décor of the shop, which included stained wood trim and a hardwood floor. Betty took charge of the smaller items like the mixers and cake pans as the men brought them in.
A moment later, a lanky individual with thinning hair and three days' beard growth poked his head through the front entrance.
“Hi, Shaun,” Betty said. “We're unloading some of the equipment. I wasn't expecting you to finish up the electrical work until tomorrow.”
Shaun stepped inside. He made a low noise in the back of his throat, then scratched his head as he glanced down at the floor. “Right,” he said. “About that...”
“Is something the matter?” Betty asked, not liking the sound of his voice. She knew Shaun was a straight-forward individual who was generally happy and upbeat.
“I'm afraid there is. It has to do with the wiring in the building here.”
“And...” Betty drawled, adding a bit more Texas twang than was probably needed.
“I got a call from John Able down at the county courthouse late yesterday afternoon. He said your permits are all in order, but the wiring will have to be updated before you can open.”
“I don't understand,” Betty said, looking surprised. “All of the paperwork was done months ago. I was under the impression everything was in order. Why are they just now getting around to saying that the building's not up to code?”
“It's the government, Betty. You know how that goes.”
Betty shook her head. “Well, the first thing to do is not panic. There's got to be a solution in this somewhere.” She sighed and tried looking at the brighter side of things like she always did when life wasn't going her way. “At least in comparison, the rest of the week should go well.”
The shop's front door opened again and Brianna stepped in. “Oh good, you're here,” she said, addressing her mother.
“Of course, I am. There's still a lot of work to be done.” Betty remarked. “By the way, why aren't you getting ready for class at the community college?”
“Oh, didn't I tell you?,” Brianna said brightly, her smile a mile wide. “I dropped out. I'm going to be working here with you instead.”
There was a brief moment of silence when all that could be heard were the cars puttering down Main Street. Camden grabbed a chair and placed it behind Betty as her knees started to flex and give. He and the rest of the men soon found activities that kept them out of the front of the shop and away from the conversation that was about to ensue.
The morning sun bore down on the citizens of Yellow Rose like a laborer driving a nail through a 2 x 4. Though barely nine o'clock, the temperature was already close to ninety degrees with the forecaster on the local radio station predicting a hundred by early afternoon. May had turned out to be a scorcher.
Betty adjusted the air vents in her Ford Explorer so they blew directly on her. For some reason, the air didn't feel as cold as usual to her. She made a mental note to have one of the mechanics at Billy's All-N-1 Lube check the coolant level next time she went in for an oil change.
“What
is
that girl thinking?” she said aloud, referring to Brianna. “She's only a year away from graduation. She knows how important a good education is.
She knows
.” Betty and her late husband had never sat down and talked about what their daughters would do after high school. They'd always assumed that they would get their degrees. Bobbi had taken classes at the University of Texas, an hour north in Austin, and was finishing up her training as a physical therapist when she met and later married her husband, Gary. They lived and worked in the Live Music Capital of the World but frequently drove down on weekends and days off to visit.
Betty did her best to push thoughts of Brianna from her mind until later. She would sit down and try again later to talk some sense into her daughter. She'd wanted to talk more at the store but the wiring issue took priority for now. Plus, Brianna wasn't really listening to her, anyhow.
She pulled into the county courthouse parking lot and, finding no shaded spaces available, parked as close as she could to the building. She got her purse and a folder full of papers and headed up the concrete steps. The building was two stories tall and made of limestone. She pushed open one of the heavy metal and glass doors and stepped into cooler temperatures.
She checked the directory and found where John Able worked, which was Room 222 there on the first floor. She headed for his office, nodding 'hello' at those she met along the way. Her shoes made a soft rhythmic clicking against the marbled floor.
She found the room and walked in. “I'm here to see John Able,” she told the woman behind the counter.
The clerk was seated on a well-worn stool and used a computer that looked like it was manufactured shortly after DOS went obsolete. “Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked, looking up.
“No. But he's expecting me. I think. It's a long story,” Betty said as she breathed in deeply and gathered her thoughts. “Could you tell him Betty Hitchens is here, please?”
The clerk finished her data processing and said, “Wait here. I'll see if he's in.” A moment later she returned. “Follow me,” she said.
Betty pushed past a pair of small chest-high swinging doors and around the corner. The clerk motioned Betty into a room, then returned to her station. John Able, seated behind his desk, rose and greeted her. Betty sat in one of two plastic chairs opposite him.
“I take it you talked with Shaun,” he began, taking his seat again.
“Yes. I think I've got the gist of what's going on. The wiring in the building where my bakery will be is old and outdated.” John nodded. “Here are the permits that have been filed and the other paperwork that's been filled out and approved.” Betty laid the paperwork across John's desk. “The two things I need to know are, why is this just coming up now, and what needs to happen next?”
John cleared his throat. “First, let me say I'm terribly sorry about the inconvenience. We've had some recent personnel changes and several of the departments have gotten behind on their duties as a result.”
“Life happens,” Betty said, failing in her effort to sound sympathetic.
“Exactly,” John said. “As to your second question, the only thing to be done is to have new wiring put in.”
“How long do you think that will take? I'm scheduled to open next week.”
“That's something you'll have to discuss with the person or company you hire to have the work done.”
“I don't own the building. Hank Blevins does.”
“Then getting hold of him would probably be your next step, I would think.”
The pair talked for another few minutes. Betty eventually stood, thanked John, gathered her paperwork, and headed outside. As she got into her vehicle pondering what she should do next, she heard the familiar chirp from her phone and looked at the screen. She read the message, which was from Brianna. Betty headed for home trying to decide what to say to her landlord when she contacted him later in the day.