Confections and Conspiracies: A Culinary Cozy Mystery: The Misadventures of a Cat Detective, #5

By Alice Stone

When my best friend Lauren comes unannounced and asks to stay for a while, I never imagined that I'd become a fugitive and she'd wind up dead. 

 

In the enchanting town of Picklesquare, where pastries scent the air and secrets linger like sweet spices, my tranquil life turns bitter when my friend Lauren Loveland is found murdered - after our very public fight about her shady business deals. 

 

Suspicion blankets me like flour on a pastry board as a manifestation of darkness turns my world upside down. Left with no choice, I must find the killer before I end up in jail, permanently. 

 

With Detective Grey and Pearl, my cat, by my side, we must hunt in the shadows to unravel the sinister puzzle the killer has left in his wake. 

 

If we can't stop the darkness from devouring more lives, this malevolent force will consume our world forever. 

 

Can we knead through layers of deception to uncover the truth behind Clara's death or will I never see the light of day again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alice Stone
• Release date: Feb 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223933168

Book preview

Confections and Conspiracies: A Culinary Cozy Mystery

Alice Stone

Copyright © 2024 by Alice STo

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

1.Sister From Another Mother

2.Psychic’s Wish

3.The One Who Stays

4.Secrets?

5.Taken

6.The Girl in the River

7.No Way Out

8.A Silence and A Glow

9.The Man In the Glass Chamber

10.The Power Thief

11.Portal

12.Find the Killer

13.Librarian

14.Master of Puzzles

15.The Offer

16.Voices in the Wind

17.Ghost Hunter

18.Three Victims

19.In the Woods

20.Powell

21.Introvert

22.A Friend

23.Letters

24.The Fear

25.Without a Soul

Chapter one

Sister From Another Mother

If you asked anyone else, they would tell you Picklesquare hadn’t changed much in the last two months, but a lot had changed for me .

The first thing that had changed was that I was now back in Picklesquare and had even opened a pastry shop with Diana. It was a nerve-wracking prospect for both of us, even with all the support we got from the community.

However, it went better than I thought it would go, and business had boomed at the start. Things had quieted down a bit since we’d first opened the shop, but we were still getting a healthy stream of customers, enough to keep us comfortably in business.

The second thing that was different in Picklesquare was more of a change in my life rather than in the town itself. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the Dark Stone and the puzzle that it presented. How would we get past all those alligators to reach the Dark Stone? 

The question wouldn't leave my mind for more than a day. If I immersed myself in work in a bid to forget about it, the next day I would be reaching for a dark-colored plate or mug or anything dark enough, and my mind would immediately go to the Dark Stone. And with the thought of the Dark Stone came the thought of the alligators. 

How were we ever going to get past them? It was a question that followed me even in my dreams, but today, it was suspiciously far from me.

The third thing that changed was the relationship between Detective Grey and me. A few days after we got back to Picklesquare, he asked me out.

Just a small dinner between friends, he said. 

We both knew it wasn't so simple, but neither of us wanted to break the illusion, so we'd said nothing and went along with the pretense.

Detective Grey had chosen a restaurant on the outskirts of town because, as he explained it while driving us down to the place, choosing a closer and more popular place would mean that everyone in town would assume we had gone on a date, even though it wasn't actually a date.

The food was better than I'd expected from somewhere so out of the way, but I regretted ordering the steak after one bite, finding it too dry for my taste.

You don't like it? he asked, setting his fork down to give me a concerned look.

I shrugged. It's okay, not something I would go for normally.

Things were a little awkward after that for a bit, both of us probably wishing we'd done things differently. I know I was, so with an effort I broke the silence that had descended upon the table, broken only by the clinking of cutlery as Detective Grey ate his food, and I pushed mine around the plate.

How are your folks doing?

I winced inwardly as the question left my mouth. That was much too obvious of an attempt to change the topic, but to my relief, his face brightened as he placed his fork on his now empty plate and smiled at me.

They're doing quite well, actually. My dad is back in Picklesquare again, and he’s finally moving in with us, he said happily.

I beamed at him. That’s wonderful! I bet your mom is going to be happy.

He snorted. Well, it’s obvious that she is. I still really haven’t come to terms that he’s back in our lives. What about you? How’s the shop going?

It’s a lot of work, I admitted. But it gives me something to do, and I get to hear more gossip than I normally would if I had to rely solely on Diana for the news.

He laughed. Really? That’s the highlight of opening your own pastry shop for you?

I shrugged and shot him a mischievous grin. What? It’s true. At the start I thought I’d like having so much sweet stuff around me constantly, but it’s been two months, and I’m already sick of pastries. I’ve sworn off them for this month.

Huh. I couldn’t do that.

Wait until you start working in a pastry shop, I promised. Unless you have great self-discipline you’ll constantly steal bites of everything you make, and by the end of the day your tongue will be tired of all that sugar.

He gave me an amused glance. Is that a subtle way of asking me to come work at Charlotte’s Treats?

I shrugged. The pay is good, I think. Diana’s not complaining, and neither am I. People with a sweet tooth would be in heaven.

He pretended to consider the thought for a moment, then shook his head in disappointment.  I’ll stick with my job as a detective, thank you very much. I already don’t like having to speak to so many people every day, and it would be worse if I accepted your job offer. He winks at me.

I wanted to continue the banter, but I realized, somehow, in the middle of all the talk I’d finished my steak. 

Huh, I said, looking at the empty plate. I guess it wasn’t so bad after all.

Do you want to head out? Detective Grey asked, even as he waved the waiter over.

Sure, I replied. 

The dinner had been fun, but now I was tired, and all I wanted to do was dive into my bed and fall asleep.

He paid for the two of us, ignoring my protests with the reasoning that he was the one who invited me out, so he had to be the one to pay. I didn’t agree with that argument, but it was late and he had already paid anyway, so I let it go for the moment.

We walked out of the restaurant and to his car in comfortable silence. The night air was cool and playful, the light breeze pulling locks of my hair away from my face and sometimes into my face. There were a few lights in the parking lot and on the street, but since the restaurant was one of the few buildings around, it stayed dark enough that we could see the stars twinkling in the dark sky.

Detective Grey pulled the car door open for me. I slid into the car, murmuring my thanks, and when the door shut behind me he went around the car to get into his own seat. The drive home was silent, neither of us wanting to talk about the tension in the air.

When I got out of the car, at the gates of the mansion, Detective Grey called out to me, Charlotte.

I looked back. He looked at me, and there was something I couldn’t identify in his eyes. He hesitated and then shook his head.

It’s nothing. Never mind. Good night.

I wondered what it was about as I stepped through the gates and walked up the driveway. When I reached the front door, I looked back. His car was still there, and I waved. I couldn’t see if he waved back, but I heard it drive away after I shut and locked the front door behind me.

A few days later, I was working at Charlotte's Treats. Business had been quite good that morning, but as the sun grew higher, and the hours on the clock approached afternoon, my steady stream of customers was almost non-existent. 

I was wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed. I looked up immediately, all too happy to drop the napkin I’d been using to clean the spotless counter, out of sheer boredom. I lifted an eyebrow at the familiar figure and grin of Detective Grey as he stepped into the shop.

Detective Grey, I said by way of greeting, ignoring the rush of warmth in my belly when I met his fond gaze.

Charlotte, he replied, taking off his jacket and draping it over a chair at his usual table, the one closest to the large glass windows on either side of the door. After doing that, he headed straight for the counter where I stood, already reaching for a knife to dish out his usual.

The usual? I asked, even as I cut out a thick slab of the dark chocolate cake and slid it onto the plate.

Detective Grey watched the process, amusement in his warm eyes.

And what if I didn’t want the usual? he teased.

I sent him a mock glare and held out the plate to him.

You would have gotten the usual anyway.

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound stirred up a familiar pitter patter in my chest, and I quickly looked away from his face to distract myself from the heat I could feel in my cheeks.

 So, how have things been around here?

I shrugged. The usual. Full in the morning, empty in the afternoon.

I guess I'm lucky to catch you when you're free.

I smiled at him. How about you?

He shrugged, picking up the fork that came with his cake and cutting off a large piece of the cake. Same old, as usual. Nothing much happens in Picklesquare You know that.

Are you sure? Both of us know that's not entirely true.

He considered that for a moment before nodding and bringing the cake to his mouth.

True. Have you had any luck regarding the alligator problem?

I snorted. That was going to be my question for you. But if you're asking me that, it means you haven't had any luck either.

He shook his head. It's a complicated thing. I've thought a lot about it, but every idea I have has a high chance of putting us in serious trouble.

I sighed. We'll just have to find a way around it somehow.

He nodded. There was a small silence that we quickly filled up, but things were still very awkward.

He got up and grabbed his jacket after finishing his cake. 

You’re leaving already? I tried to keep the disappointment out of my tone.

He grinned at me. I only stopped by for a bit. You’ll see me soon. Don’t worry.

With that, he was gone.

***  ***  ***

Hi, welcome to Charlotte's Treats! What can we get for you? I greeted as the bell above the door chimed, signifying the entrance of a customer. I wondered who would be coming in at this time, but didn't lift my head from my phone just yet.

Hi!

I looked up sharply at the strangely familiar voice. It sounded a lot like Lauren Loveland, my friend and former college roommate, but what would she be doing all the way here?

Charlotte? Is that you?

"It is you, Lauren!" I said excitedly, rushing out from behind the counter to give her a huge hug. She returned it with equal fervor. We separated soon after, holding on to each other’s hands and leaving me smiling into her face.

Lauren Loveland! What a surprise to see you here, I said, finally letting go of her hands and leading her to one of the tables—Detective Grey’s table, to be exact.

I looked at her as we sat across from each other and exchanged pleasantries. She looked mostly the same as she did the last time I'd seen her. She had the same dyed black and pink hair giving away no hint of her natural brown hair color, the same brown eyes lined with black, and even the same boots on her feet that made her look taller than she was.

You haven't changed a bit.

You're just saying that. She waved the compliment away, but I saw the half-curl of her lips. She was pleased by the remark.

I asked about Lauren’s family, and she told me they were doing well. We caught up on what was going on in each other’s lives, interrupted only by my getting up to go get a plate of macarons for Lauren—her favorite.

As I sat back down at the table and put the macarons in front of her, I finally asked the question I’d been dying to ask ever since she stepped into the shop.

Not that I don’t want you here, but I have to ask: what are you doing here, all this way from the city?

Chapter two

Psychic’s Wish

Lauren giggled as she shook her head at me.

What? I said defensively.

She muffled her laughter behind her hand, obviously trying to get it under control but failing. I sighed at her, fondness in my tone.

Just laugh if you want to. I certainly can’t stop you.

At that, she miraculously contained her giggles and wiped her eyes. I’d forgotten how easily and freely she laughed, and it warmed my heart to see that some things hadn’t changed. Even if I was a little worried about the suddenness of her visit.

Lauren hated small towns with a passion that concerned me. Once, she had told me how earlier in her life she’d lived in a town like Picklesquare for about two years, and how much she’d hated it. She called the city she’d finally settled in a breath of fresh air, which I didn’t agree with her on, but to each their own.

No, I’m fine now.

I raised an eyebrow at her. Are you sure?

She waved my fake concern for her away airily, the large, gemstone-clad rings on her hand catching the light.

I’m fine, really. Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh that hard.

Mmhmm.

Really. She widened her large brown eyes at me, silently begging me to believe her. I just found it so funny how that was the first thing you said. I was expecting it to be something along the lines of ‘Are you okay’ or something like that.

Well, are you? I asked. You detest small towns, and while Picklesquare isn’t that small of a town, it still has all the components of one.

She shrugged and picked up a pink macaron, biting into it and closing her eyes in bliss at the taste. 

These are so good!

I smiled at her. I’ll tell Diana you appreciate her skills, but you’re not getting out of this ‘surprise visit’ topic that easily. What’s going on?

She pointed to her mouth, still chewing, and shook her head. I got the message and waited for her to finish her treat while I looked at my phone to see if any messages had come in.

There was only one message, and it was from Diana, saying she was done with her shopping, and she would soon be back in the shop. I was about to text her not to bother, since we didn’t get much—or any—traffic as it got closer to evening, and currently it was four o’clock.

I was interrupted by Lauren clearing her throat, and promptly forgot about texting back the chef. You’re right, she said, twisting the paper napkin I’d handed her between her hands until it was on the verge of tearing. I watched her fingers with worry. Lauren only fidgeted when something was wrong. Every other time she would be as cool and collected as only her ideal vision of the Savvy City Girl could be.

Finally, there was a small tearing sound, and Lauren dropped the pieces of the napkin on the floor with a small sound of disgust before looking back up at me. I could pick out the exact moment when she realized what she’d just done because she froze and wavered between bending in her chair to pick up the napkin she dropped or apologizing.

The napkin won, and she quickly picked it up before placing it back on the table beside the plate of almost intact macarons before smiling sheepishly at