Breaking Bread

By Alexandra Donchuk

What happens when a small town where everyone knows each other
finds itself in the middle of a mystery?

A wave of unexplainable robberies rolls over the town's favourite establishments and Mel Haden, a full-time bakery owner and now part-time amateur sleuth, expects little to no help from the town's police force.

What Mel doesn't expect is to meet Jess Weldon, a fresh face among those
who grew up and grew old together. The story unfolds when her arrival, together with the robberies, seems to bring the best - and the worst - out of everyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Armida Publications
• Release date: Dec 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9789925573806

Book preview

Credits

Copyright © 2021 by Alexandra Donchuk

All rights reserved. Published by Armida Publications Ltd.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to

Armida Publications Ltd, P.O.Box 27717, 2432 Engomi, Nicosia, Cyprus

or email: [e-mail]

Armida Publications is a member of the Independent Publishers Guild (UK), and a member of the Independent Book Publishers Association (USA)

www.armidabooks.com | Great Literature. One Book At A Time.

Summary:

What happens when a small town where everyone knows each other finds itself in the middle of a mystery?

A wave of unexplainable robberies rolls over the town's favourite establishments and Mel Haden, a full-time bakery owner and now part-time amateur sleuth, expects little to no help from the town's police force.

What Mel doesn't expect is to meet Jess Weldon, a fresh face among those who grew up and grew old together. The story unfolds when her arrival, together with the robberies, seems to bring the best - and the worst - out of everyone.

[ 1. Humorous / General 2. Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths 3. Literary 4. Small Town & Rural 5. Amateur Sleuth 6. Cozy 7. Satire ]

Editing:

Helen Agathocleous

Cover images:

Photo by Lisa from Pexels

This novella is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1st edition: November 2021

ISBN-13 (paperback): 978-9925-573-79-0

ISBN-13 (epub): 978-9925-573-80-6

Dedication

To Stephen, commonly known as Fran

Monday

Monday morning was no different from any other Monday or any other morning.

It’s probably the result of that subconscious obsession with new beginnings, Mel thought as she rolled over to her side and looked at the clock on her bedside table. Life wasn’t going to magically change for the better just because there was a new date on the calendar and in the grand scheme of things, Monday wasn’t that much different from Friday. The clock read 6:20 and she reached for her phone to turn off the upcoming alarm. It was going to ring in ten minutes anyway and there was no reason for her to feel giddy with anticipation just because a new week was just about to start.

Mel didn’t have to be at the bakery until eight to relieve Angela from her night shift. The bakery would undoubtedly be filled with drunk teenagers and shady middle-aged guys awkwardly trying to start a conversation to stave off their loneliness, but she liked to take her time in getting ready. She put the kettle on and went into the bathroom, critically looking at her reflection in the mirror. There was a pimple growing on her chin, almost glowing red on the pale skin and it responded with a twinge of pain to her touching it and her eyes felt dry and irritated; there was no way she could go through her shift in contacts today. She tugged sceptically at a black strand of hair that fell out of her bun when the kettle turned off with a whistle, demanding her attention. If she put her hair up in a ponytail, she could get away with not washing it for another day.

After cereal and coffee and one too many cookies, Mel went around the flat for something she referred to as the inspection. It made her feel like she was going on a secret undercover mission, full of hidden dangers and gunfights and even an occasional epic backflip, instead of just checking on her plants. Georgy, a mighty ficus in the kitchen corner, reminded Mel of a grumpy old man with his ever-changing watering schedule. She long gave up on trying to fix his slightly disgusting pollinating habits. She imagined him scoffing at her as she craned her neck to look at the wilting leaves at the top: he’d probably tell her to stop fussing around and get him another glass of water, signalling that he went dry way ahead of schedule again.

Georgy’s leaves didn’t look worse than yesterday, so Mel moved on to Marina. A sweet pink begonia lounging on the windowsill in the lounge, she was always the first one to greet the rising sun. For a begonia, Marina was surprisingly undemanding, not asking for much and seemingly content with just enjoying the sunshine. Marina went on a leaf-losing tantrum only once, when Mel went away for a week and left her neighbour in charge of the inspection. Next to Marina stood Geoffrey the cactus, a tiny emotional creature in a colourful pot that had a habit of threatening suicide if as much as a drop of water touched his soil and after a few attempts to convince him that she wasn’t trying to poison him, Mel had to give up and just let him live his weird waterless life.

Simon the snake plant found his home right next to the wardrobe in her bedroom just when Mel was ready to accept defeat; he seemed to hate every corner of her flat and was quick to demonstrate it in rapidly yellowing leaves and an overall droopy appearance. Mel put him in the darkest corner of her room in the last desperate attempt to get anything but a negative reaction from him and he finally seemed happy with life, breaking her every belief about all plants needing at least a little bit of sunshine to survive. Her last stop was a majesty palm near the door to the balcony that started dying immediately if the conditions weren’t one hundred per cent perfect and overall had such a regal and conceited vibe that Mel felt only a little bit bad about naming her Elizabeth and making a mocking bow every time she passed by her. Elizabeth seemed to be in a fine mood today, so Mel left her to gaze at herself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom and closed the door. Plants were supposed to be less troublesome than pets, but her little garden of chaos didn’t agree with that.

Locking the door to her flat, Mel still felt that strange excitement bubbling in her chest, something that she usually associated with leaving for the last exam: nervousness mixed with anticipation of the worst finally being over. It didn’t make sense now when she was twenty-eight years old and six years out of university. Now the most anxiety-inducing thing on her list was remembering the birthdays of everyone working in the bakery and planning the Christmas party every year, but as she quickly ran through the dates in her mind, this Monday didn’t look like anything special. Maybe she became one of those people who were way into their jobs and it was the anticipation of watching fresh batches of cookies slide out of the oven that gave her the mysterious tingles. Mel shook her head at herself and put the keys into her backpack. Maybe she should take Angela’s suggestion and finally go on that vacation.

At five to eight Mel left her car at the parking spot tagged staff and went into the bakery, faintly noting that the sign above was still flashing Bread & Crumbs in soft yellow lights from the night. As she suspected, Angela was sitting at the counter yawning at her phone and jerked violently once she heard the gentle sound of the wind chime at the door, scrambling to appear professional and not at all sleepy-looking.

Morning, Angela, Mel said, not trying to hide the amusement in her voice.

Angela’s shoulders slumped in relief and she fell back to the chair, exhaling deeply. Oh, it’s you, Miss Haden. She was just a few years younger than Mel but refused to call her by her first name as everyone else did. At first, Mel tried telling her that they were all a family here and there was no need for textbook formalities, cringing at how corporate her words sounded, but Angela could be very stubborn when she wanted to and eventually Mel had to accept defeat. I wasn’t quite ready for the early birds to start pouring in.

I ought to tell you off for having your phone out at work.

But you’re not going to, Angela pointed out. Her whole respecting your superiors spiel that she gave Mel as the reason for addressing her as a schoolteacher didn’t really translate to all areas of her work ethic. Plus, my shift has just ended, so if anything, I should receive a bonus for staying overtime.

Mel chuckled. With her bright green eyes, long messy braids and a slight musical twang in her speech, Angela could be almost irresistibly charming and Mel was sure that she used that power to get away with things more than once. Fortunately, it was also a quality that made her exceptionally good with customers. Angela listening intently to their stories and laughing brightly at their jokes resulted in the bakery having so many patrons that Mel found herself letting certain minor things slide, fully aware that if that were anyone else, they’d get a couple of stern words thrown their way. We’ll see about that. Boring night, huh?

You can’t even imagine, Angela groaned. The only person who came was that awful Mister Ed at three in the morning and even he spent about ten minutes hiding behind the slushie machine when he saw me at the counter, like I wasn’t going to notice.

He’s not awful, Mel said, but mostly out of duty. He’s got his psoriasis under control now and his stories about how he found the right treatment are… enlightening.

Angela rolled her eyes. You don’t have to pretend with me, Miss Haden. He’s no idea of personal space and him awkwardly hitting on me is especially inconvenient now that I’m trying to get my hands on his son. I might even mention it next time he tries to buy a cupcake and give it to me as a parting gift.

Mel sighed. Night shifts always meant a fair share of creeps and them living in a small town where seemingly everyone knew each other didn’t stop that from happening. I’ll talk to Helen. Wasting my cupcakes is one thing, making my employees feel weird is another.

Angela shrugged, getting up from her chair and stretching her arms above her head until something cracked.

Don’t worry, Miss Haden. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Her phone lit up with a notification; she quickly scanned it with her eyes and shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans. Anyway. If I leave right now, I still can have a glorious three-hour nap before my class. Student life, am I right?

Mel laughed. Student life. Angela already told her not to take into account that she was a student when making schedules for the week, but she still felt guilty giving her night shifts knowing she had classes the next day. Again, this was one of the arguments where Angela chose to be stubborn.

I’m off, then. See you tomorrow! Angela saluted her with two fingers and headed for the door, flipping the switch to turn off the lights on Bread & Crumbs on her way. Mel waved, receiving a smile back and watched her search for headphones in her bag before she disappeared behind the corner. She then turned her attention to the bakery.

Whatever that giddy feeling was, it still hadn’t disappeared. It didn’t go anywhere after Mel finished sweeping the floors either, only pausing to get two loaves of bread and a carton of eggs for Eve, a middle-aged kindergarten teacher that called everyone darling and was always running late somewhere. Stephen came at quarter to nine to get the ancient coffee machine up and running and flashed a toothy smile her way before putting on a black apron and tying it