Bakeshop at Holiday Bay: Black Forest Mystery

Book 1: Bakeshop at Holiday Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Mystery; Culinary Cozy Mysteries; Animal Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Set in the charming town of Holiday Bay, Maine, Bakeshop at Holiday Day follows Piper Fairchild, a spirited event planner who moves to town with her lovable dog, Penelope.

After connecting with Cricket and Marnie Abernathy, owners of All About Bluebells, Piper meets Paisley Bradford, a young woman with a dream of opening her own bakeshop. The two quickly form a bond and join the warm, welcoming courtyard family—including Lou, Cricket, Marnie, and the rest of the crew you know and love.

In book 1 in the series, Piper manages to land a job planning an exclusive black-tie event to be held at a local estate only to find a body in the bedroom just hours before the first honored guests are due to arrive.

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Release date: July 29, 2025

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Reader says this book is...: entertaining story (1) female sleuth (1) unexpected twists (1)

Sample

Chapter 1

From behind the shuttered closet doors, I stared at the shadowy figure and wondered if fate,
in its cold irony, had chosen to make what was supposed to be the best day of my life also my
last.
“I know you said you heard someone up here, but the bedroom is clear, and our unexpected
guest is where she left him. We’re probably okay for now, but he needs to be moved soon.”
The man spoke with a deep, gravelly voice I didn’t recognize. Not that I should recognize his
voice since I’d essentially spent very little time at the home of Xander Homewood, the
millionaire who’d hired my firm, Piper Fairchild Events, to plan and execute the exclusive black-
tie event that would be held later this evening. His personal assistant, Marissa Greenway, had
made all the arrangements on Mr. Homewood’s behalf.
The man continued to speak into a cell phone, although he’d lowered his voice, making it
more difficult to hear what he said as he walked over to the window and pulled back a corner of
the heavy drapes designed to keep out the afternoon sun. “Let Elsa know that we’ll need to move
the car.”
I tried to make out the man’s features despite the limited light filtering into the bedroom;
however, the horizontal slats of the shuttered closet doors further complicated my ability to
match a face with the voice. I could make out small details, such as the man wore black pants
and brown shoes, which I found amusingly odd.
“I’d say we should just move him into the adjoining suite, but, as you know, Carlton is
occupying that suite for the weekend.” The man walked away from the window and headed
directly toward the closet where I was hiding. My heart was beating so hard that I was afraid it
would pound right out of my chest. “It’ll be tricky, but I think the boathouse will be our best
bet.”
I held my breath as the man stepped within a foot of the closet doors, which I’d left slightly
ajar in my haste to find a hiding place. When the man reached his hand out, I wasn’t sure if his

intent was to close the doors the rest of the way or open them and look inside. “I see your point.”
Placing a hand over my mouth, I pressed hard to prevent the screech that seemed to demand to
be heard.
“This does complicate things, but we’ll figure it out.” The man rested his hand on one of the
knobs of the closet doors. “I spoke to the man who helped us with the incident at the party a few
years ago, and he’s willing to help out for a price. He isn’t the best choice, but he’s what we
have. You need to track him down and ask him to meet me in the second-floor parlor in fifteen
minutes. If we don’t act quickly, things will become even more complicated than they already
are.”
With that, the man closed the closet doors the rest of the way and left.
It took a minimum of ten seconds before I summoned the courage to breathe, and I remained
in the closet for no less than five minutes after he departed. How on earth had I gotten myself
into this mess? When I’d awakened this morning, I was sure that today, the day of my first
significant event as an independent event planner, would be a day to remember. I guessed that I
just hadn’t anticipated how memorable a day it would actually turn out to be.
It took more courage than I possessed to slowly open the closet doors and step back into the
bedroom. My instinct told me to run and not stop until I was clear of the house, but I needed to
find Penelope, and then I needed to decide what to do about the body in the ensuite bathroom. I
couldn’t be a hundred percent certain as to the victim’s identity since he was lying face down,
but I suspected the unexpected guest the man referred to was, in fact, the owner of the home and
host of tonight’s black-tie event, Xander Homewood. Of course, if the homeowner had been
found in his own suite, I’m not sure why his presence would be referred to as unexpected.
After stepping out of the closet, I stood in the middle of the room and listened. When I was
met with silence, I allowed myself to breathe freely. I figured the danger had passed and
everything would be fine. Now, I just needed to develop a plan to get myself out of this mess.
I looked toward the ensuite bathroom and felt the muscles in my stomach tighten. I closed
my eyes and allowed myself to relive the past ten minutes.
I’d been working my way through Homewood’s luxurious summer home, looking for my
teacup Havanese, Penelope, who’d somehow managed to extract herself from the carrying case
I’d brought her in. Once Penelope was loose in the house, she decided to provide herself with the
grand tour, which led to me following Penelope through the commercial-sized kitchen, into the
dining room, down a hallway, and up the stairs to the second floor, where the individual sleeping
quarters, including the master suite belonging to Xander Homewood, were located. Most of the
doors were closed and likely locked, but for reasons unbeknownst to me, someone had left the
door to the master suite unlocked and partially open, allowing Penelope to squeeze through.
Given my classification as a member of the “paid help,” I knew that entering the master suite
would be frowned upon, and the reality of what might happen if I was caught caused me to
experience a wave of panic. But then, since it was early in the day, I reasoned that the staff
members would be busy preparing for the carefully cultivated guests who would begin to arrive
in nine hours and would likely have no time to come looking for me. Unfortunately, I had
incorrectly reasoned that I had plenty of time to grab the dog, take her home, and be back in time
to make sure everything was perfect when the first limousine of the evening pulled into the drive.

Stepping into the suite after deciding to do so, I’d tried to corral my precocious dog, but it
appeared Penelope hadn’t been quite ready for the fun to end. She’d darted into the attached
sitting room to the right of the bedroom, and when I’d found her, she’d been happily running
around sniffing every nook and cranny. Penelope loved to play cat and mouse, and she was good
at it, so grabbing the little dog was no easy feat.
Just when I thought I had her cornered, she managed to squeeze past me and head into the
bedroom, where she darted under the bed. I’d knelt down next to the bed in the hope of grabbing
her, but she was too far on the other side to reach. I got up to walk around the bed, but she
squirted out from beneath the bed before I even reached the other side, ran into the ensuite
bathroom, and began to bark. I’d followed the sound of her short, sharp yaps into Mr.
Homewood’s private bathroom, only to find Penelope standing over what looked to be Mr.
Homewood’s very dead body.
I’d frozen firmly in place.
Penelope, who thought the game was still on, had darted out of the suite and back into the
hallway.
“The police,” I’d whispered to myself. “I need to call the police.”
I’d reached for my cell phone, only to realize I’d left it in the kitchen where I’d been helping
my business partner, Paisley Bradford, arrange slices of the distinctive black forest cake Marissa
had informed us Homewood had specifically requested onto plates.
“So what now?” I whispered, bringing my mind back to the present as I looked around the
room and considered my next move.
“In here,” I heard the same man wearing black pants and brown shoes, with a deep, gravelly
voice, say to someone who didn’t respond.
I darted back into the closet and waited as the man wearing black pants and brown shoes and
another man entered the ensuite bathroom and left again. When the men vacated the suite, I
heard the door click when it closed.
Once again, I waited, and when all seemed clear, I exited the closet. This time, I headed to
the ensuite bathroom to confirm that the body was indeed gone. Given the lack of blood, there
was no indication that a body had ever been there.
Realizing I needed to get out of there and figure out my next move, I moved as quietly as
possible toward the door leading into the hallway. By this point, my heart was pounding so hard
in my chest that I could barely breathe. It felt like I was having a heart attack, not that I’d had
any experience with heart attacks at twenty-eight. But I had a good imagination and felt qualified
to imagine what one might feel like.
Once I cleared the second floor and stepped onto the first-floor landing, the pains in my chest
began dissipating. I headed directly toward the kitchen without even taking the time to look for
Penelope.
“There you are,” Paisley said as she stood at the prep station, where she had dozens and
dozens of slices of black forest cake arranged on plates designed and manufactured for the
occasion. “One minute, you were here, and then the next, you were gone. And you weren’t
answering your cell phone.”

I picked it up from the counter and held it up. “I left it in the kitchen when I went to look for
Penelope, who somehow managed to escape her carrying case. I still haven’t found her.”
Paisley smiled. “It looks like she found you.”
I turned around and looked toward the carrying case, where Penelope should have been all
along, to find her curled up in a ball, ready for a nap.
I remembered the body in the ensuite bathroom and knew I needed to call the police, but I
didn’t want to say anything about what I’d seen while I was inside the house in case there were
security cameras or listening devices in play. “I’m going to take Penelope home,” I said to
Paisley, “but I’ll be back in plenty of time to finish setting up. Did Marnie and Cricket show up
with the flowers?” I referred to Marnie and Cricket Abernathy, sisters who owned the flower
shop next door to Paisley’s bakeshop and my office.
“They did,” Paisley answered. “Since I wasn’t sure where you wanted them, I had them leave
them on the counter in the laundry room.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll set the floral arrangements around when I get back.” I tried to look her in
the eye to convey my urgency to leave without saying anything to give me away. “Maybe you
should come with me. Since we drove here together, it will save us an extra trip later if you come
with me now.”
“I thought I’d finish here and then return to the bakeshop. I don’t have much more to do here
until after the guests arrive, and I suspect the bakeshop will be busy today. If you want to head
back now, I can grab a ride share when I’m done here.”
“Actually, I hoped you’d be around this afternoon to help me pick up the centerpieces from
the designer.”
Paisley opened her mouth, and I knew she planned to point out that the centerpieces we
intended to use for the tables were already in my van; however, she must have noticed the look in
my eyes. She closed her mouth and agreed that coming with me now to gather the items we’d
need for the evening made a lot of sense.
Once Paisley, Penelope, and I had made it to my van, I had a total meltdown. I started to cry
almost uncontrollably, which, of course, totally freaked Paisley out.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
I wanted to answer, but I was crying too hard to form words.
“Breathe,” Paisley coached. “I think you’re having a panic attack. Is the pressure of planning
such an important event now that it’s here getting to you?”
I shook my head.
“Then what?” she demanded.
I took several deep breaths and then used the back of my arm to wipe the tears from my eyes
and cheeks. “I found a body. A very dead-looking body. I think it may have been Mr.
Homewood.” Then, I recounted the horrifying story that had unfolded while I’d been away.
“We need to call the police,” she said.

I nodded. “We do. And I was going to, but I didn’t want whoever killed the guy in the ensuite
bathroom to know I’d seen what I had. I still don’t want anyone to know. I’ve seen enough
movies to know that the only witness to a crime usually gets whacked.”
Paisley looked toward the house. “Yeah. It would be best to wait until we are away from the
house. Let’s head back to the bakeshop, and then we’ll call Alex.”
Officer Alex Weston was both a cop and a friend. She’d taken over as Police Chief while
Colt Wilder, Holiday Bay’s actual Police Chief, was on medical leave following a work-related
injury. Alex was both intelligent and levelheaded. She’d know what to do.
When we arrived at Courtyard Bakery, the bayside bakeshop where Paisley sold her baked
goods and I had an office, Paisley paused to check in with her full-time helper, Chandler
Rosenthal, while I scurried upstairs to the lounge and breakroom to freshen up and call Alex. In
the beginning, Paisley both baked the goods she offered for sale each day and worked the front
counter from open to closing, but her enterprise had been so successful that she’d decided to hire
someone to run the counter while she spent most of her time in the kitchen.
I could hear Paisley and Chandler chatting downstairs as I dialed the number for the local
police department. Since it was Saturday and Gabby Gibson, who served as the local receptionist
and dispatcher, was off on the weekends, the call was answered by the central dispatcher at the
county office. Since I didn’t want to get into everything with her, I disconnected the call and
called Cricket Abernathy, one of the co-owners of All About Bluebells, the flower shop next
door to the bakeshop. I knew that the Abernathy sisters were close friends with Alex and would
likely have her personal cell phone number. When Cricket answered, I explained what I was after
and why I needed it, and she responded by saying that she would call Alex and then be right
over.
Paisley had finished filling Chandler in and had come upstairs to join me by the time Marnie
and Cricket arrived.
“Tell me everything,” Cricket said after sitting next to me and wrapping me in a welcomed
hug.
Once again, the stress of it all hit me, and I started to cry. If not for the support of friends who
were more like sisters, I don’t know how I would have gotten through what would come next.

Chapter 2

“Tell me exactly what you saw,” Alex asked after she arrived with her partner, Braxton
Baker.
I took a deep breath and chose my words carefully. “I was chasing after Penelope, who’d
escaped her carrying case and had been running through the house. She took me on a grand tour
before she darted up the stairs and into the master suite. I followed her inside, where I found a
man lying face down on the floor of the ensuite bathroom.”
“Did you recognize the man on the floor?” Alex asked.
I hesitated and then replied. “I assumed it was Mr. Homewood. Mr. Homewood is tall, has a
fit physique, and has neatly trimmed dark hair. He also tends to dress nicely. The man on the
floor had a physique and hair color similar to Mr. Homewood, but he was lying face down with
his head tilted to the side. His left arm was reaching upward, covering his face, so I couldn’t
make a positive ID, but if I had to guess, I’d say the victim of whatever happened was Xander
Homewood.”
“Did you know Mr. Homewood well?” Alex asked.
“No. In fact, I’ve never even spoken to the man. He’s often away on business, so I’ve worked
exclusively with his personal assistant, a woman whose name is Marissa Greenway.”
“But you know what Mr. Homewood looks like?”
I nodded. “I looked the man up on the internet before my first trip to the estate to discuss the
black-tie event with Marissa, and I saw Mr. Homewood from afar during one of my subsequent
visits.”
“But it sounds as if you never really got a good look at the man.”
“That’s true. As I said, I have never spoken to Mr. Homewood or been close to him.”
“Could the body on the floor have been someone else?” Alex asked.

I shrugged. “I suppose it might have been, but we should remember that we were in Xander
Homewood’s suite.” I paused again. “It is true, however, that the man I overheard on the phone
referred to the man in the ensuite bathroom as an unexpected guest and not the boss, so perhaps
my first assumption about the person’s identity was wrong.”
“What exactly did the man say?”
“He said something like, ‘I know you said that you heard someone up here, but the bedroom
is clear, and our unexpected guest is where he was left.’”
“What was the man you found on the floor wearing?”
“Beige pants and a long-sleeved white shirt.”
“Were there any pockets or markings on the shirt?”
“I don’t know. The man was on his stomach.”
“What about his shoes?”
“His feet were bare. A towel was lying on the ensuite bathroom counter, so I suspect he’d
recently showered.”
“Did you notice if the man was wearing any jewelry? Maybe a ring or watch?” Alex asked.
I slowly moved my head from the left to the right. “Not that I remember.”
“Did you notice any skin tags?” Alex asked. “A mole or maybe a tattoo?”
Again, I indicated that I really didn’t remember. The whole thing had happened so quickly,
and I was pretty sure I’d experienced a level of shock when I’d noticed the body. “I was pretty
freaked out. It’s not like I knelt down to examine the body, and I certainly didn’t touch it to look
for moles.”
“Did you check for a pulse?” Alex asked.
“No,” I admitted. “I guess I should have, but as I said, the whole thing happened so fast.”
“Are you certain the man on the floor was dead?” Alex continued.
I hadn’t been expecting that question, but now that I really thought about it, I guessed I
wasn’t sure. I’d only shared physical space with the man on the floor for a few seconds, and, as
I’d just indicated, I never had touched him or felt for a pulse. I hadn’t seen any blood, but I
supposed the man could have been strangled or incapacitated in a manner that wouldn’t produce
blood.
“So what we have is a report of an unidentifiable man with dark hair lying on the floor of the
ensuite bathroom of the master suite, who may or may not have been dead,” Officer Braxton
Baker summarized.
I glanced at Brax. “I guess that is an accurate summarization. But my instinct was that the
man was dead and not just passed out, and based on what the man wearing black pants and
brown shoes said, it sounded as if he believed the man in the ensuite bathroom was dead.”
“We don’t have enough for a warrant, but I don’t suppose it would hurt to head over to the
estate and look around,” Alex said. “We can say that we had an anonymous tip about a
disturbance on the property and just want to look around to confirm that everything’s okay. We

might even be able to verify that Mr. Homewood is alive and well, assuming he is alive and
well.”
Brax shrugged. “That’s fine with me, but I think we should keep Piper’s name out of it in
case something nefarious has happened.”
Alex smiled at her partner. “Nefarious?”
“I’ve been working on my vocabulary. It helps in court.”
“You mean it helps when speaking to your new Harvard-educated girlfriend,” Alex teased.
Brax had recently met and started dating the new attorney in town, an alumna of Harvard
Law who had decided to trade in a partnership at a big law firm in Boston for the slower pace of
life in small town Holiday Bay.
Alex agreed that it would be best to keep my name out of it at this point and would stick to
the story of an anonymous tip.
“Before we head there, I want you to list everyone present in the house or on the estate at the
time of the discovery of the body,” Alex said.
I paused. “I’m not sure I can list everyone present. As you know, a black-tie event is planned
for this evening, so several out-of-town guests are staying at the estate in addition to the people
who live there. There are also a lot of folks going in and out as they prepare for the event.”
“Just do the best you can,” Alex coached.
I nodded.
Alex took a small notepad and a pen out of her pocket. “Go ahead,” she encouraged.
I swallowed and began to speak. “Well, Paisley and I were there getting ready for the event.
Marnie and Cricket had been in to drop off the flowers while I chased Penelope around, but I
didn’t personally speak to them. The woman I hired to cater the food, other than the cake and
pastries, which Paisley provided, was there to confirm the presence of the serving dishes she’d
need. She was alone since the event wasn’t beginning until that evening, so she didn’t need her
full staff.”
“And the caterer’s name,” Alex asked.
“Gretta Marconi. She’s the owner of Marconi’s Catering.”
I paused while Alex jotted down the list of names in her little notebook.
“Okay,” she said. “Go on.”
I tried to remember who I’d seen. “Mrs. Homewood was there, although now that I think
about it, there was talk that Mr. Homewood hadn’t yet returned from a business trip. He may
have arrived that morning and gone upstairs to shower, which would explain a few things.”
“Mrs. Homewood, the mother, or Mrs. Homewood, the wife?” Alex asked.
“Both, actually,” I responded. “This next part will be confusing, and it took me forever to
finally get it straightened out in my mind. It seems there are actually three Mrs. Homewoods who
are living on the property. Mrs. Elizabeth Homewood, the deceased Mr. Baron Homewood’s first

wife and Xander’s mother, lives on the Holiday Bay estate full-time, as does Mrs. Victoria
Homewood, Baron’s second wife and current widow.”
“So Baron Homewood, owner of the estate before his passing, had his current wife and ex-
wife living on the same property?” Alex asked.
I nodded. “I know that’s confusing. I guess the first Mrs. Homewood, Elizabeth, lived there
full-time, while the second Mrs. Homewood, Victoria, came and went as Baron came and went
when he was alive, but she lives on the estate full-time now that Baron has passed.”
“That’s crazy,” Alex said.
“Tell me about it. And there’s more. It seems that when Victoria married Baron, she brought
a son from a previous marriage to the union, Charles Brookville. Charles was only five when his
mother married Baron, so he grew up on the estate and was treated like a son, but is, in fact, not a
blood relation of the Homewood family.”
I waited for Alex to jot down the names of Baron Homewood’s first and second wife and his
stepson.
Once Alex seemed to be caught up, I continued. “Baron Homewood had five sons, four of
whom were his biological sons. Xander and Carlton were born to Baron and Elizabeth. And
while Baron was married to Elizabeth, he and Victoria had a son together named Easton, who
does not live on the estate but is expected to attend the event this evening, and Charles, as I
already indicated, came to live with the Homewood family when Baron married Victoria.”
“That’s just four,” Alex said.
“Hang on. I’m getting to son number five. It seems that during his marriage to Victoria,
Baron had an affair with a woman named Lola Conway. This dalliance resulted in a son, Henry.”
“Do Henry and Lola live on the estate?” Alex asked.
“No. Lola is dead, and Henry lives out of the area. I’m not sure where exactly, but Marissa
told me that Henry was disowned by his father. Marissa thought this was mainly due to Victoria’s
insistence that the boy be swept under the rug. She didn’t seem to have all the details, but she did
say that Henry has never been in the picture.”
“And Marissa just told you all of this?”
I nodded. “Shortly after I signed the contract for tonight’s black-tie event, I took Marissa out
for dinner and drinks, hoping to gain some of the inside scoop. When you are in the process of
planning a large event such as this, it really does help to know a bit about all the players.”
Alex smiled. “It sounds like a soap opera.”
“Wait, it gets better,” I said.
“Go on,” Alex instructed. “Who else either lives on the estate or was visiting when the body
was found?”
“The third Mrs. Homewood, Natasha Homewood, Xander’s wife. Now, when I say wife, I
don’t necessarily mean wife in the traditional sense. Xander travels a lot, and he has a penthouse
apartment in New York, so he’s only in residence at the estate in Holiday Bay on occasion. When
he’s in residence, he uses the suite where I found the body, but Natasha lives in Holiday Bay

most of the time and, in fact, has her own suite in the east wing with Elizabeth, Victoria, and
Charles.”
Alex raised a brow. “No kidding.”
I shrugged. “Keep in mind that the only reason I know any of what I’m sharing is because
Marissa drank a lot of wine on the evening I took her out, and she tends to get chatty when she
drinks wine. I asked her why Natasha didn’t have one of the suites next to Xander’s if the pair
had decided not to share a suite, and she said that the suites in the west wing are assigned to
Xander, Carlton, and Angelica. I knew Carlton was Xander’s only full sibling and wondered
about Angelica, so I asked Marissa, and she told me that Angelica is Xander’s mistress.”
Brax couldn’t help but chuckle. “It sounds like Xander Homewood has the best of both
worlds. A wife to keep the home fire burning and a mistress to keep things interesting.”
Alex playfully punched Brax in the arm.
“Does Angelica live at the estate full-time?” Alex asked me.
“No, she’s only in residence when Xander is there. She has been there the past few days,
however. I suppose she is there in anticipation of his return.”
“Do Xander and Natasha have children?”
“No. Not that I’ve seen or anyone has mentioned.”
Alex made a bunch of notes and then asked me to continue.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “I don’t know much about the full or part-time
residents. Although Mr. Homewood’s full brother, Carlton, who, as I indicated, has the suite next
to Xander’s, had a conversation with me. He tends to come and go, and I only met him once, but
I thought it was a nice chat.”
“Did your chat reveal anything that might be interpreted as important to this case?” Alex
asked.
“Not specifically, but he did mention a man named Rupert in the context of a discussion
about men with no spines.”
“Men with no spines?” Alex asked.
“It was a silly conversation that began in one place and ended in another. I doubt the
conversation itself is relevant to what might be going on out at the estate, but it has occurred to
me that based on what I know about Rupert, he might make a good suspect if it indeed turns out
that I did see what I thought I saw and someone killed Mr. Homewood.”
“Okay,” Alex said, “why would Rupert make a good suspect?”
“He’s married to Angelica.”
This time, Alex raised both brows. “Married?”
I nodded. “According to Carlton, Rupert met and fell in love with Angelica after she was
already in a relationship with Xander. In the beginning, I guess Rupert was fine with her
arrangement with Xander, and she spent time with both men, but then Rupert fell in love with
Angelica and wanted to marry her. Angelica made it clear that she had a good thing with Xander,

and while she wanted to marry Rupert, she was not willing to give up what she had with Xander,
so Rupert agreed to let her keep Xander on the side.”
Alex lowered her notepad and looked me in the eyes. “You’re making this up.”
“I’m not. I swear. Remember, except for my conversation with Carlton, most of what I know
I know from Marissa or other staff members. While nothing has been verified, the relationships
I’ve described are accurate, to the best of my knowledge.”
Brax laughed. “Well, it certainly sounds as if there are multiple motives for murder.”
After Brax stopped laughing, Alex indicated that she had enough for now. She announced she
would look around if the security team allowed her to and would devise a plan B if they refused
to grant her access to the property. Even though she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, she
assured me that she believed me if I said I saw a body.
After she left, I decided I needed to get back to the estate and check in with Marissa so she
wouldn’t wonder what had happened to me. Since I had the centerpieces in my van, I decided
that if a staff member asked where I’d been, I’d merely tell whoever was asking that I needed to
go and pick them up.
Even though I was nervous about returning to the estate, I tried not to show it. Given what
had happened earlier, I decided to leave Penelope at the bakeshop with Paisley. The last thing I
needed to worry about was her getting loose and finding another dead body.
“There you are,” Marissa said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I had to run into town and pick up the centerpieces we plan to use on the tables. I have them
now and plan to place them on the tables. Was there something you needed?”
“No. Well, maybe. Mr. Homewood informed me that he would be late arriving and asked that
we wait to serve the buffet until his arrival. Apparently, he has a speech and a toast to deliver.”
“That’s not a problem. Would you like the buffet set out at eight-thirty or even nine o’clock
rather than eight?”
“Nine o’clock would be safest in case he’s even later than he anticipates, but I feel like we
should provide something to snack on for those who need something to tide them over.”
“I can arrange for trays of single-bite appetizers that we can circulate. I’ll speak to the
caterer, and if she doesn’t have anything that will work as a single-bite appetizer option, I’ll
come up with a few tasty options myself.”
Marissa hugged me. “Thank you so much. You’ve been the most accommodating event
planner I’ve ever worked with.”
“I try to give my clients what they want.” I looked around the room. “It’s become much more
crowded since I left to pick up the centerpieces.”
“It does seem that everyone showed up all at once. I would have preferred that everyone set
up this morning rather than leave it until just before the guests begin arriving, but as long as
everything is ready before the first guest pulls into the drive, I suppose we’ll be fine.”
“I’ll go ahead and place the centerpieces, then I’ll talk to the caterer and head to the store and
pick up whatever we need for the single-bite appetizers we’ll serve on trays as we circulate, but
I’ll check in with everyone before I go.”

“Thank you, Piper. That would be great.”
Marissa wandered over to talk to the man setting up for the orchestra, and I returned to my
van to begin bringing the centerpieces in. I decided to call Paisley and ask if she had any easy yet
elegant recipes for single-bite appetizers to pass around. After discussing my request, she
volunteered to call our good friend, Georgia Carter-Peyton, and get some suggestions. I first met
Georgia while staying at the Inn at Holiday Bay when I’d been in town to plan my best friend’s
wedding. She was an excellent chef who starred in a cable television cooking show and had
recently published a cookbook. I was sure that between her and Paisley, they’d come up with
something delicious.
“Have you seen Marissa?” a woman I knew only as the head housekeeper asked me as I set
out the last of the centerpieces.
“Not recently. The last time I saw Marissa was when she was speaking with the man setting
up for the orchestra, but she seems to have moved on. Did you try her office?”
“I did. Mr. Crabtree has shown up and is asking to speak to Mr. Homewood. I informed the
man that Mr. Homewood’s flight had been delayed and that he likely wouldn’t be here until this
evening, but he insisted they had an appointment and needed to speak with him. I hoped Marissa
could handle things. It certainly isn’t in my job description to do so.”
“I’ll speak to the man and then look for Marissa. Is Mr. Crabtree one of Mr. Homewood’s
friends?”
“No, he’s an attorney. The family attorney, to be exact.”
“I see. Okay, I’ll go and speak to the man and do what I can to pacify him. If you see
Marissa, please let her know what’s going on.”
“I will. And thank you.”
Even though I realized that talking down an irritated attorney wasn’t in my job description
either, the introverted housekeeper seemed overwhelmed by the whole thing, and I was used to
working with demanding people.
“Mr. Crabtree,” I said, holding out my hand in greeting after tracking the man down in the
downstairs parlor. “My name is Piper Fairchild. I understand you’re here to speak to Mr.
Homewood.”
“I am, and I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is Mr. Homewood here?”
“He isn’t. I’m very sorry he didn’t call and let you know about the change in his schedule.” I
went on to explain about the flight delay, which messed up his connection. I also assured the man
that Mr. Homewood would have kept his appointment if he could have. The man wasn’t happy
about how things had turned out, but he seemed somewhat appeased when I offered him a cup of
coffee and a piece of Paisley’s cake. “Now, you simply sit a minute and enjoy your coffee and
cake while I track down Marissa. Perhaps she can assist you with whatever business you had
hoped to address with Mr. Homewood.”
After I looked for Marissa for at least twenty minutes, I gave up since she didn’t seem to be
on the estate. Eventually, Mr. Crabtree had to leave, so he handed me an envelope and instructed
me to give it to Mr. Homewood as soon as he arrived. He indicated that he also needed to pick
something up from Mr. Homewood, so he agreed when I suggested he return that evening.

Once the man left, I looked at the envelope in my hand. The question was what to do with it
now that I had it. I knew where Mr. Homewood’s home office was. Since leaving the envelope
on his desk made sense if the door was unlocked, I headed upstairs to check. As I suspected it
would be, the door was locked, but I figured that either Marissa or the head housekeeper would
have the code to open the door. I was about to go and look for someone to let me into the office
when the housekeeper returned. I explained about the envelope Mr. Crabtree had left with me, so
she unlocked the door and waited while I placed the envelope on his desk. I called out to her that
I was going to leave a brief note. I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and jotted down that the
envelope was from his attorney, who would find him at the event later that evening. Once that
was done, I left Mr. Homewood’s home office, and the housekeeper locked the door. I decided to
head downstairs to check in with everyone, and then I headed to my van. As I prepared to drive
away, I noticed Alex and Brax speaking to Marissa and a man wearing a suit. Chances were, the
man in the suit was the head of security, and chances were, Marissa had been busy showing Alex
and Brax around when the housekeeper and I were trying to find her. I was somewhat surprised
that the housekeeper hadn’t known that Marissa was tied up with the police since she was the one
who most often answered the door when someone rang the bell, but perhaps she’d otherwise
been occupied when Alex and Brax had arrived.
Even though I was tempted to wait for Marissa to be freed up so that I could explain about
the envelope the attorney left, I decided to head home. All the extracurricular activities that
occurred today had put me behind schedule, and what I really needed to do was to go home,
freshen up, change clothes, and return to the estate in time to finish my job.
Shortly after I’d returned to the bakeshop and chatted with Paisley about the single-bite
appetizer menu Georgia had helped her come up with, Alex had finished at the estate and
stopped by the bakeshop to catch me up. As it turned out, the man in the suit was the head of
security, a man everyone referred to as Ryker, and he was amenable to Alex’s request to walk
through the house as long as she was accompanied by him. It was a short tour, but Alex and Brax
were able to confirm that nothing seemed to be out of place.
“So?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “The place is clean.”
I supposed I knew that was going to be the case, but I guess I’d hope she’d find the body,
arrest the killer, and this would all be over.
“Thanks for trying,” I said.
“Are you supposed to be there this evening?” Alex asked.
I nodded. “In fact, I should get back now. The event doesn’t start until eight, but I want to
confirm that everything is perfect.” I felt my heart rate begin to accelerate again. “Unless, of
course, you think I should find a reason to stay away.”
“No, quite the contrary, in fact. I think you should head back and go about your business as
usual. While you’re busy putting everything in place, I want you to keep your eyes and ears
open. Don’t be obvious about anything, and don’t ask any questions or act frightened if you see
the man you overheard on the phone while you were hiding in the closet. Just take note of who is
there and who isn’t. I’m going to give you my personal cell phone number. If you see or hear
anything or if you feel threatened in any way, call or text me.”

It sounded like Alex wanted me to go undercover, which terrified me since I was timid and
pretty reluctant to be in any situation that might put me at risk of bodily harm. I wasn’t like the
brave and spontaneous amateur sleuths I read about in the mysteries I loved, yet here I was.
“I don’t want to put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable,” Alex added.
Great, then let’s forget this whole thing, I thought to myself. The reality was that never in a
million years would I feel comfortable snooping around a murder scene.
“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m fine,” I said, rather than voicing my previous thought. What I
really wanted to do was to run home to the two-bedroom apartment that Paisley and I shared by
the bay and hide under the covers, but I could understand how my eyes and ears would be the
only eyes and ears in place that evening that could look and listen for clues. Having someone on
the property would be imperative if we hoped to have any chance of figuring out what was going
on. “You aren’t asking me to look for the body, are you?”
“No. Not at all,” Alex assured me. “And I’m not asking you to do anything or take any risks
you wouldn’t normally do while performing your job. All I’m asking is that you be aware of the
situation around you as you do your job. If I hadn’t just been out to the estate where those in
charge saw my face, I’d show up as catering help or something, but since the guy who runs
security got a good look at me, that won’t work even with a disguise.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Will Paisley or anyone else be there with you?” Alex inquired.
“She was going to help me finish setting up, but I think she planned to leave once that was
completed. I suppose she’d be willing to stay if I ask her to.”
“Okay, then ask her. It will be best if someone who knows what’s happening is with you this
evening.”
Cricket walked in just then. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Alex and I were discussing the black-tie event tonight, and she asked that I keep my eyes
and ears open,” I explained. “She asked if I would have anyone else there to rely on as a second
set of eyes and ears.”
“I’ll go,” Cricket said. “I’ve always wanted to get inside one of these events. All About
Bluebells has provided flowers for several high-end functions, but our job is done once we
deliver the flowers. Maybe I can help serve or something.”
I glanced at Alex, and she nodded.
“Okay,” I said. “That would be helpful. Thank you.”
Cricket turned her attention to Alex. “So what do I do?”
Alex went over things one more time. She basically told her the same things she told me.
Cricket seemed genuinely excited about the opportunity to go undercover and gather intel, while
I seriously suspected I might toss my cookies before this whole thing was over.
It didn’t take long before both Paisley and Marnie offered to attend the black-tie event with
Cricket and me. They helped me finish setting up, and then they worked to prepare the single-
bite appetizers that Georgia had suggested, utilizing the ingredients Paisley had purchased. The

event tonight didn’t require a full-serving staff since it was a buffet, but there was still a lot to do,
and dead body or not, I was happy I ended up having extra help.
“Everything looks perfect,” Paisley said after we’d done a walkthrough before the arrival of
the first guests.
“It really does,” Cricket added. “And I think you were spot on with your flower request. At
first, I wasn’t sure since the bouquets seemed informal for such a formal event, but they
complement the other décor you’ve added.”
“Have you seen the man you overheard from the closet?” Marnie asked.
“No,” I answered. “But my view was obstructed by the shuttered closet doors, so I’m not
sure I’d recognize the man even if I saw him unless he’s still wearing those same black pants and
brown shoes.”
“And his voice?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure I’d recognize that, but so far, I haven’t heard anyone with such a deep voice
speak.” I looked toward the front door, where the first guests were being ushered in. “Wow.
Check out that gown. I bet that costs more than I make in a year.”
“It is exquisite,” Cricket said. “I got to wear a dress like that once. Back before Marnie and I
moved to Holiday Bay. I was as nervous as I could be that I’d spill something on it, so I didn’t
eat or drink anything all night, but for four hours, I felt like one of the elite socialites who lived
near the country club where I used to wait tables.”
“If you waited tables at the country club, how could you afford a dress like that?” Paisley
asked.
“Oh, I didn’t buy it. One of the women whose husband worked a lot of crazy hours asked me
to attend the gala with her since her friend from out of town who was going to attend as her plus
one came down with the flu. I, of course, was thrilled to have the opportunity to attend, but I
didn’t have anything to wear. When I told her as much, she offered to lend me one of her dresses
since we were about the same size. The dress she lent me had been worn before, and she’d
indicated it was unlikely that she’d wear it again, but I was still so nervous about ruining it that I
really didn’t enjoy the gala as much as I thought I would.”
“I think I’d prefer to be comfortable in my own skin than to pretend to be someone I wasn’t,”
I said.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Cricket said. “Even though I was terrified about ruining the dress,
something about the fantasy of it all appealed to me. For one night, I was Cinderella, and that
night, I’m afraid, is unlikely an experience I’ll ever have the opportunity to repeat.”
“In my experience, slipping into Cinderella’s glass slippers and finding your prince charming
really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Paisley muttered.
I’d been living and working with Paisley for almost two months, and while we’d gotten to
know each other during late-night gab sessions, I still felt that there was so much I didn’t know
about her. I knew she was the best baker I’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I knew she
had moved to Holiday Bay from Hartford, Connecticut, after a messy divorce. She never spoke
of her ex. I’m pretty sure she’d never even mentioned his name, but she did share that her ex had
also been her high school sweetheart. All breakups were hard, but I supposed that a breakup with

the first boy you loved and expected to love for the rest of your life would be one of the worst
kinds of breakups possible.
“Now that the guests have begun to arrive, I guess we should retreat to the kitchen,” Marnie
said. “We’re here to serve, and we wouldn’t want to do anything to draw undue attention to
ourselves.”
“We really need to look around,” Cricket countered. “We’re never going to solve this murder
from the kitchen.”
Just the words “solve this murder” had my heart pounding.
“I’m going to grab a tray and start offering your single-bite appetizers to the guests,” Cricket
said.
“That would actually be helpful,” I replied. “I have a few of the catering staff members lined
up to help with that, but since dinner will be delayed, the more food we have in circulation, the
better.”
Cricket grabbed a tray with sushi bites and headed out to circulate.
“I’m going to make the rounds and check in with the rest of the hired staff,” I said. I looked
at Paisley. “You and Marnie can heat up the food the caterer dropped off, and then once the
buffet is served, you can help to ensure the buffet table is restocked as needed.”
The next few hours seemed to fly by. The uber-rich guests of our uber-rich host continued to
arrive until well past nine. Some ate, most drank, and everyone mingled. Cricket was natural in
her role as a canapé provider. She was gorgeous and outgoing and would often stop to converse
with those she came into contact with. If gossip was being floated around, I figured Cricket
would be the one who’d overhear it. Of course, I couldn’t have been more wrong in my
assumption.
It was actually Paisley who pulled me aside just after eleven o’clock. “I decided to take the
trays we’d brought the cake on out to the van, and there were three men who looked like they
were part of the temporary security detail having a smoke by the security office,” Paisley began.
“They were talking about an incident. They never used the word body or murder victim or
anything like that. At least not while I was close enough to listen in, but one of the men said
something about the fact that there may be extra cash to be made.”
“Did they say anything else?” I asked.
“Just that things might get complicated. Again, they didn’t share any details, and I didn’t
want it to appear like I was intentionally loitering, so I dropped off my trays and walked away.”
“Do you think they’re still out there?” I asked Paisley.
“I’m not sure. Maybe. The men were there when I came back inside a few minutes ago. I
doubt their break will be a long one, however. The guests appear to be starting to depart, and the
security team will likely want to keep an eye on things as the estate clears out.”
I began moving cake slices from the only tray of cake that hadn’t been served yet onto the
counter. “I’m going to take this last tray out. If they’re there, I’ll pretend it’s necessary to
rearrange things to make everything fit in the van. That will buy me a few minutes to try to pick
up more of what they’re saying.”

Paisley thought that was a bad idea, as did Marnie, but then Cricket walked in. I shared my
plan, and she offered to help. The two of us walked in the direction of the van. As I’d planned to
do, I continued walking to my van, but Cricket veered off and joined the three men who seemed
to be on the verge of breaking up their group.
“Hey, guys,” Cricket greeted. “The dragon lady who hired me gave me a ten-minute break. I
really could use a cigarette. Would any of you handsome men have one to spare?”
I watched as all three men pulled a pack out and offered her one.
Cricket laughed. “Aren’t y’all so sweet, but I’m trying to quit. One will do.” She took a
cigarette from the man standing closest to her and then asked the man standing next to him for a
light. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t help but notice how smoothly Cricket inhaled and then
slowly exhaled. It was apparent she’d smoked before, but in the two months I’d known her, I’d
never seen her smoke.
“So what are we talking about?” she asked the men.
“We were just having a smoke before returning to work,” one of the men said.
“So you’re what? Security?”
“We are,” one of the men answered.
“How is it working for Mr. Homewood?”
The man who looked to be the youngest of the three responded. “We don’t actually work for
Mr. Homewood. We’re extra help hired specifically for tonight’s event.”
“How’s the pay for that sort of thing?”
“The pay for this on-call gig is good, but I imagine the pay would be amazing if you
managed to score a full-time position with Homewood.”
“I’ve heard that Mr. Homewood pays well,” Cricket said, even though it was unlikely that
she had heard anything like that. “I even heard that there’s often extra cash to be made.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” the only man who hadn’t spoken yet said in a tone full of
suspicion.
Cricket leaned in a bit as if sharing a secret. She said something that made the men laugh,
and then she tossed her cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out with her foot. Assuming her
actions were my queue to leave, I closed the van and returned to the kitchen. When Cricket still
hadn’t returned after five minutes had passed, I began to panic. Maybe something happened after
I left. Perhaps I should have waited after all.
“Maybe one of us should wander back out there and check on her,” Marnie said.
“I’ll go,” Paisley offered.
“No. I’ll go,” Marnie said. “She’s my sister.”
“Since I never should have left her, I’ll go,” I stated as Cricket walked into the kitchen
through the back door.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“Just finishing up.”

“I thought stomping the cigarette out was my queue to go, so we didn’t leave at the same
moment, making it appear that we’d come out together, which I guess we actually did.”
“It was my way of signaling my intent that I planned to head back inside, but then Joey, the
tall young one with the thick hair and crooked smile, hung back when the other two left. This
provided a perfect opportunity to share some of the gossip I’d overheard while serving with him.
This also provided an opportunity for him to respond to my stories. As it turns out, something is
happening with the family this weekend. Apparently, Mr. Homewood’s attorney flew in, and
there’s been talk that Mr. Homewood’s illegitimate brother was seen on the property.”
“Mr. Homewood has an illegitimate brother?” Marnie asked.
I shared the story of the illegitimate child born to Baron Homewood and his mistress, Lola.
“So if both the attorney and the illegitimate son are on the property, maybe something really
is going on,” Paisley said.
“Maybe,” Cricket agreed.
“I should call Alex and bring her up to speed,” I said. “I knew about the attorney, but it seems
significant that Henry was on the property if that rumor is even true.”
“You can call Alex, but be careful. There are eyes and ears everywhere,” Cricket warned.
“Eyes and ears?” Paisley asked.
“Cameras and listening devices,” Cricket whispered.
The food had all been served, and the guests had begun to leave, so Cricket didn’t need to
return to the event. She offered to pitch in to help Paisley and Marnie clean up and load the van
while I searched for a bathroom. While I doubted security cameras and listening devices were in
the bathrooms, I supposed one could never be too careful. So, rather than calling Alex, I sent a
text from the little cubicle where the toilet was positioned. She texted back and asked that I call
her once I got home.
After I read Alex’s text, I slipped out of the cubicle. I was about to open the door when I
heard voices in the hallway.
“Is it handled?” a female voice asked.
“It is.” I immediately recognized the man with a deep, gravelly voice.
“The cops were here sniffing around.”
“They didn’t find anything, and they won’t. There really is no need to worry.”
“Mr. Crabtree was here today,” the woman said.
“I saw him.”
“Do you think he’s going to be a problem?”
“Probably not, but I’ll handle that too if he is. I guess I’m most worried about Xander.”
“I can handle him.”
The pair in the hallway continued walking. I truly wanted to open the door and look at the
pair, but I was terrified one or the other would notice me, so I stayed put for several minutes

before I headed out the door and into the hallway. I looked in both directions, and it appeared the
coast was clear.
Then I looked up.
“Sh…,” I cursed in my mind, although I restrained myself from verbalizing my thoughts.
Secured to the ceiling at the end of the hallway was a security camera, which, based on the angle,
likely picked up any movement in the hallway in which I was now standing. Since it was
obviously too late to do things differently, I continued toward the kitchen while trying to come
up with a story about an upset stomach should anyone look at the tape and realize how long I had
been in the bathroom before wandering out.
When I arrived in the kitchen, where Paisley was waiting, everything was already in the van,
so we were ready to go. Marnie and Cricket had already left.
“Are you ready?” Paisley asked.
“I think so. The only thing I need to do is check in with Marissa. I’ll only be a few minutes. I
can meet you in the van if you want.”
“Okay. That sounds best. Do we need to pick Penelope up?” Our friend, Eden Halliwell,
from the bookstore we shared the courtyard with, had been heading to the inn to hang out with
her friends and had volunteered to bring Penelope along so she wouldn’t have to be alone in the
apartment all evening.
“No. Eden plans to drop her off at the apartment on her way home. She thought that would be
around eleven, so Penelope should be waiting for us at the apartment.”
“Okay, perfect. I’m exhausted. I’m so glad the bakeshop is closed tomorrow so I can sleep
in.”
“It has been a long and stressful day.” I thought about telling Paisley about the conversation
I’d overheard in the hallway and the security camera I’d observed after it was too late to change
my approach to the situation. But since she seemed exhausted, I didn’t want to worry her if I
didn’t need to. I couldn’t change what happened at this point and just hoped that whoever might
be monitoring the feed hadn’t given a second thought to an event planner who’d been in the
bathroom for at least twenty minutes. ...