The Sweet Dreams Bake Shop

Book 1: A Sweet Cove Mystery

by J.A. Whiting

Genres: Craft & Hobby Cozy Mysteries; Supernatural suspense; Animal Cozy Mysteries

Synopsis

Angie Roseland runs the Sweet Dreams Bake Shop in the seacoast town of Sweet Cove, Massachusetts. The building's new owners are not renewing the bake shop's lease, and Angie is running out of time to find a new location. When one of the town's longtime residents is murdered, Angie finds herself on the suspect list. With the help of her three sisters and a huge orange cat, Angie works to uncover the killer's identity.

Release date: March 29, 2015

Publisher: Whitemark Publishing

Print pages: 262

Sample

Chapter 1

 

 

Angie Roseland loved this time of morning when the streets and sidewalks were quiet, the air was fresh, and the daylight filtering through puffy white clouds was bright and new. The air was unusually warm for mid-April and the change in the weather lifted Angie’s spirits. It had been a harsh winter and a wet spring, so a warm sunny day was especially welcome.

 

Angie had her shoulder-length, honey blonde hair piled on top of her head and held there with a clip. She adjusted the canvas bag on her shoulder as she bent to insert the key into the lock of the shop’s blue door. Swinging it open, she flicked the switch to turn on the overhead lights of the cozy café.

 

The words “overhead lights” didn’t really do justice when describing the lighting in Angie’s bake shop. Those words conjured an image of harsh banks of fluorescent bulbs stuck inside of a plastic cover. Angie had spent many hours searching for just the right pieces to illuminate her small coffee and desserts shop. She wanted her bake shop to be a welcoming and comfortable spot for her patrons and she believed that lighting was an important aspect of creating a cozy café.

 

Two medium-sized cut glass, crystal, and pewter chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the small pieces of glass and crystal caught the light of the bulbs and softly bounced the rays off of the ivory ceiling and the light mocha walls. The shimmering lights always made Angie happy when she arrived for work each early morning.

 

She hummed to herself as she tucked her purse under the counter and headed to the back room to put her lunch in the small fridge she kept to one side of the preparation area. Slipping a pale pink apron over her head and tying the back straps, Angie returned to the front room of the café, turned on classical music, prepared coffee pots, heated water for tea, checked the supplies in the cabinets, and started the process of baking her breads, muffins, and tea cakes.

 

The door opened causing a little bell to tinkle.

 

“Hey, sis,” Courtney called to her older sister. “What’s cookin’?”

 

Angie looked up and smiled. “Ha. You need to come up with a new line.” She went to the bank of windows and opened one of them wide. Because of the long, freezing winter and the cool, wet spring, the windows hadn’t been open in months. “It’s like an early summer day. Let’s let in the fresh air.”

 

Twenty-one-year-old Courtney helped open two of the front windows, and then she headed to the back room to get her apron. She was a senior at a Boston university and she often returned to the town of Sweet Cove on weekends to help out at the bake shop. She called out from the back room. “You’re very cheerful for someone who is about to get kicked out of her shop.”

 

Angie sighed. “I’m just trying to enjoy my last few weeks here.” She moved to the work station and made two vanilla lattes. Courtney returned to the front room wearing her apron and accepted one of the lattes from Angie.

 

“Any news on your search for a new space?” Courtney took a small sip from her white cup.

 

Angie shook her head and frowned. “Any place that’s available, I can’t afford and anything I can afford isn’t available. The real estate agent is looking and listening for any possibilities, but it looks like I’m not going to be open anywhere in this town this summer.”

 

Angie had opened her Sweet Dreams Bake Shop in Sweet Cove, Massachusetts only a year ago. Now the building was being sold and the new owners had different plans and weren’t renewing Angie’s lease.

 

Sweet Cove was a perfect small town right on the Atlantic Ocean tucked on the North Shore only thirty minutes from Boston. A train station on the edge of town received several trains a day from the city and when the weather was good they carried droves of day-trippers to Sweet Cove. There were a number of bed and breakfasts, small inns, and quaint hotels, along with a variety of shops that lined the cozy streets selling books, jewelry, clothes, ice cream, and anything else anybody might need or want.

 

The town had an old-fashioned movie theatre, pharmacy, and small grocery store. Angie, her sisters, and mom had vacationed in Sweet Cove for years, and some of her ancestors, including her grandmother, had lived in the town all of their lives.

 

Angie had been searching for a place to start her café business and was thrilled when the small space in Sweet Cove came up for rent last year. The shop was doing well and Angie built a loyal following of regular customers drawn from the permanent residents in the area, in addition to the tourists who frequented her café. Now that she wouldn’t be able to stay in town, she would have to start from scratch wherever she ended up moving. Despite her heavy heart, Angie couldn’t spend time dwelling on her dilemma as the regulars would be arriving soon for their morning beverages and bakery treats.

 

The door opened and Angie’s employee, Lisa Barrows, entered the café and greeted Angie and Courtney. Lisa was in her early sixties, divorced, and had recently moved to Sweet Cove after living in central Massachusetts for over forty years. Lisa had been born one town over from Sweet Cove and spent the first years of her life in the area. She was now retired from a teaching position and, having lost her mother last year, Lisa decided to return to the seacoast. She wanted to keep busy and was happy to find a job at the bake shop. She worked three full days and three half days. Lisa, with her stylish, short silver hair, was energetic and efficient, and Angie was happy to have her help.

 

The women chatted amiably as they hurried about the shop getting ready for the first customers of the day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The bake shop was in full swing with a line of customers waiting for their beverage orders. People stood in front of the bakery cases choosing treats for takeout and other customers were perched on the five counter stools sipping coffees and eating muffins and homemade donuts. The shop had ten café tables with four chairs around each one. Angie always had little glass vases filled with fresh flowers on the tables. All of the seats were taken by local residents who sat discussing the latest town news and gossip before heading out to their jobs or errands. The local real estate agent, Betty Hayes, a boisterous middle-aged woman who knew everything that was going on in Sweet Cove, was engaged in her daily schmoozing, always nosing around for a property to sell.

 

Angie was slightly annoyed with Betty because she didn’t seem to be putting much effort into finding a new place for the cafe. Angie realized that her need for a new space for the bake shop was probably at the bottom of the real estate agent’s priority list since finding a rental space wouldn’t provide much of a commission.

 

The door opened and a small older woman with nearly white hair pulled into a loose bun, leaned on her cane, and stepped into the café. Angie caught her eye and waved to her. The woman beamed a lovely smile at Angie. Lisa hurried over, took the woman’s arm and led her to a table that was opening up. “Good morning, Professor Linden. Here’s a table right here. Would you like your usual?”

 

“Yes, Lisa, thank you. I’ll wait for Angie to make it.” A fleeting scowl passed over Lisa’s face and then was gone. Professor Linden preferred that Angie make her first latte of the day. The professor took a seat at the small table near the window. A fresh breeze came through the screen and ruffled the petals of the flowers in the vase.

 

Courtney walked over to greet the professor. “Can I get you something to eat?”

 

“What did Angie bake today?” The professor would only eat the items that Angie baked. Some customers thought that Angie had a special talent for baking and they preferred to order the specialties that were prepared by her.

 

“She made almond cake, blueberry scones, and the Russian teacake cookies,” Courtney told the woman.

 

“I’d like a blueberry scone, please.” The professor smiled and opened her newspaper.

 

Professor Linden, a town selectman for many years, had retired from teaching mathematics at a university in Boston and she’d lived in Sweet Cove off and on since she was a little girl. Her house, a huge eighteen-room Victorian, was on Beach Street just around the corner from the Sweet Dreams Bake Shop. The professor and her late husband purchased the house many years ago and even though Professor Linden admitted that the place was much too large for her, she’d decided that she would never sell it.

 

Courtney brought a mocha latte to the table with a napkin and a scone on a pale blue plate. “Here you are. Angie just made the latte for you. Enjoy.”

 

The professor nibbled at her scone and sipped her drink as town residents stopped by her table to chat. A pleasant buzz of conversations filled the air of the café as people came and went. Betty, the real estate agent, joined the professor for several minutes and then some business people who were interested in building on some town wetlands stopped by to talk. Angie joked that it was like the professor held office hours every morning in the bake shop.

 

After she delivered some slices of banana bread and two coffees to the town’s police chief and patrol officer, Angie noticed a lull at the professor’s table, so she sat down with her for a few minutes.

 

“How’s your hip, Professor?” Angie asked.

 

“It’s a bit better. It gets sore after strolling here and back home again, but I think it’s certainly improving.” Professor Linden had a pacemaker and about a month ago she experienced a dizzy spell in the kitchen of her home, fell, and bruised her hip. Angie was walking past the house to deliver some muffins to one of the nearby restaurants when she heard the professor’s cat howling inside. It was pretty clear that something was wrong from the caterwauling coming through the open window.

 

Angie investigated and ended up calling an ambulance for Professor Linden. The Sweet Cove weekly newspaper did a story praising the feline for sounding the alarm. Quite a few of the locals teased Angie that the cat had received more attention than she did for helping Professor Linden.

 

Angie chatted with the professor for a little while, discussing recipes and gardening and travel. “I will surely miss you when you have to close this café.” The professor patted Angie’s hand. “And I will certainly miss all of your delightful treats. There’s something magical about them.”

 

Angie’s eyes sparkled at the professor’s compliment. “Thank you, Professor. You’ve always been so encouraging ever since I set up shop here in town. It means a lot to me. I’ll come back to Sweet Cove to visit,” Angie told her. “And, I’ll be sure to bring you a box of your favorite baked goods whenever I come to see you.”

 

The professor frowned at the thought of Angie leaving. “It just won’t be the same without you. I’ve grown quite fond of you, you know.”

 

Angie nodded and her blue eyes got misty. “I’m going to miss you, too. But we still have four weeks before I have to close. We’ll make the most of it.” She forced a smile.

 

Just then the shop door opened and two men in suits stepped in.

 

“So this is what’s on the other side of the wall.” The taller man pointed towards the café’s back room, and then he looked around the front space. “Who is running this shop?” His voice carried a tone of authority and he appeared to be someone who knew his way around a boardroom. He had blue eyes and dark brown hair showing some gray at the temples. He looked to be in his mid-forties. He glanced about looking for the person in charge of the café. Angie rose from her seat.

 

“I’m Angie Roseland.”

 

“Davis Williams.” He shifted his briefcase into his left hand and reached to shake with Angie.

 

The second man who entered the shop stepped from behind Davis Williams. He appeared to be in his early thirties, with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was trim, and his suit was well-cut and fitted. He smiled, showing a perfect row of white teeth. “Josh Williams. Davis’ brother.” He extended his hand to Angie and she shook with him.

 

“Your shop is great,” Josh said, looking around.

 

Angie wondered who these two men were and why they were looking for her.

 

The Professor placed her hands on the table in order to push herself up. She reached for her cane. “This shop is great. Maybe someday you’ll be sorry you drove this young woman from Sweet Cove.”

 

Angie looked with puzzled eyes from the professor to the men.

 

Courtney watched the exchange of words and realized the professor was leaving. She placed the professor’s usual takeout cup of hazelnut latte into a paper bag and brought it over to her. The professor took the bag, nodded at Angie, shuffled to the exit and left the café, pulling the door shut with a bang.

 

“We’re the building’s new owners.” Davis Williams said to Angie, unfazed by the older woman’s reprimand.

 

“Oh.” Angie couldn’t help a frown forming on her face.

 

“We’d like to see the backroom, if we may. It would only take a minute. We’re trying to iron out the details of the renovation plans.” Davis adjusted the cuff of his suit.

 

Angie bristled inwardly even though she knew the two men had every right to make the request. She felt protective of her little shop and wished they would just go away.

 

“If it’s not a good time,” said Josh Williams, “we can come back later.”

 

His brother shot him a look.

 

“Um,” Angie said. “No. It’s okay. Go ahead. Do what you have to do.” She turned away from the men and started to clear away dishes from some of the tables.

 

Courtney stood near the entrance to the backroom with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes shooting daggers at the two men. She scowled at the Williams’ brothers as they walked past her.

 

“Courtney.” Angie shook her head slightly indicating that her younger sister should just ignore the men. “Could you help me clear?”

 

After ten minutes, the men returned to the front of the café. “Thank you, Angie,” Josh said. “Sorry to get in the way.” He held Angie’s eyes.

 

Josh’s gaze caused an unexpected little zing to shoot through Angie’s heart. She gave him a quick nod and turned to finish the frozen chocolate drink she was making.

 

The café was quieter now that the morning rush was over and the women worked to replenish the bakery case, run the dishwashers, and get ready for the second wave of customers who would start streaming in around noon.

 

Josh approached the counter and sat on one of the stools. “We drove up from Boston,” he told Angie. “The traffic was terrible. I’d love to have a coffee and whatever you suggest to eat with it.” He smiled at her and Angie almost blushed.

 

“Josh?” Davis Williams stood ram-rod straight at the door. He had a clipboard in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He wasn’t planning on staying.

 

“I’ll catch up with you,” Josh said. “I need a coffee.”

 

Davis scowled but didn’t say anything. He had things to accomplish and didn’t want to sit around in a bake shop. Especially one he had plans to rip out of his newly acquired building. “Meet me at the Realtor’s office.” He glanced at his watch. “Say twenty minutes.” Davis didn’t wait for his brother’s reply. He yanked the door open and left the cafe.

 

Angie placed a white mug of coffee in front of Josh and he thanked her. “What do you suggest to go with it?”

 

“We have cake, muffins, pies, sweet rolls. What do you like, anything in particular?”

 

Josh’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I like everything.”

 

Angie thought. “Well, how about a piece of pear frangipane tart?”

 

“Pear what?” Josh grinned.

 

“I’ll give you a tiny slice to try,” Angie told him. “If you don’t like it, then I’ll get you something else.” She went to the bakery case and took a small plate down from the shelf.

 

A cell phone buzzed from Lisa’s purse. The women always kept their bags under the front counter for safe keeping. They didn’t like their wallets in the back room when delivery people were coming and going.

 

Lisa was pouring water from a big container into the coffeemaker. “Could you grab that, Angie? I’m expecting a call from my allergist.” Lisa was allergic to everything, mold, dust, pollen, and with the spring plants in bloom, she was really suffering. Her sinuses were blocked and her eyes always looked watery and red.

 

Lisa’s purse was open so Angie reached inside for the phone to pass it to her. As she pulled it out, the bag wobbled and tipped over, emptying some of the contents onto the floor.

 

“Ugh.” Angie moaned and passed the cell phone to Lisa. Angie bent to pick up the things that had fallen from the purse. Courtney leaned down to help, as Lisa took the call. They replaced her change purse, tissue packet, allergy pill container, eye drops, and checkbook.

 

“I hope I’m not going to be clumsy all day.” Angie rolled her eyes.

 

Courtney giggled. “Clumsy isn’t the best trait to have when you’re serving customers their hot drinks.”

 

With the purse back under the counter, Angie reached into the bakery case and cut a small piece of the pear tart. She placed it on the plate and carried it over to Josh.

 

“Are you always a klutz?” His eyes were mischievous.

 

Angie put a hand on her hip. “Only, now and then. You’d better stand back when I refill your coffee.”

 

Josh chuckled. He picked up his fork and took a bite of the dessert. He closed his eyes and moaned.

 

Angie smiled, admiring the chiseled features of Josh’s face. “Does that mean you like it?”

 

Josh opened his eyes. “It means I love it. I’d love a bigger piece, please.”

 

Angie was about to cut another slice for him when Lisa called out to her. Lisa was holding the café’s phone in her hand. Her face was pinched with worry. “Angie. It’s Police Chief Martin. He says for you to come quick. It’s Professor Linden. She’s hurt. At her house. She’s asking for you.”

 

Angie’s eyes went wide. Her heart jumped into her throat. She dropped the knife she was holding onto the counter and bolted from the bake shop.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

Angie was still wearing her pink apron when she raced past four store fronts on Main Street and turned left onto Beach Street. Running past several small shops and residential houses, Angie could see a police car and an ambulance in front of Professor Linden’s Victorian home. A crowd of people had gathered on the sidewalk opposite the house.

 

“Angie!” Police Chief Martin raised his hand to flag her over. An emergency medical technician was kneeling next to the professor who was on her side laying on the walkway next to the front stairs of her house.

 

“What’s happened?” Angie was nearly breathless when she ran up the chief.

 

Two EMTs rolled a stretcher out of the ambulance and hurried it towards Professor Linden.

 

“A passerby saw the professor on the ground and called 911. The person said the professor seemed to be convulsing or having a seizure.” The chief took Angie’s elbow and quickly guided her over to the elderly woman prone on the ground. “The professor called for you,” he told her.

 

Angie rushed to the older woman and knelt beside her. She swallowed hard to clear the worry from her voice. “Professor? It’s me. It’s Angie.” She reached for Professor Linden’s hand.