The Bite-sized Bakery Cozy Mystery Bundle 2

“Are you trying to choke me?” The voice whip-snapped over the chattering crowd gathered in front of the food truck’s open window.

I scanned the crowd, searching for the source of the disturbance, but no one stood out. Then again, it was pretty difficult to pick anyone out in the crowd. Bee and I had just arrived in Muffin, Massachusetts, and set up our truck in front of the duck pond. Customers had swarmed in the minute we’d opened up “shop,” and we hadn’t stopped selling our special all morning.

The strawberry glazed donuts were a bestseller.

“Did you hear that?” I asked my baking bestie, Bee.

“No. Hear what?” Bee had tied back her silver-gray hair today and wore her signature Bite-sized Bakery apron, striped in pastel green and pink over a thick cream sweater. She was halfway through a transaction, handing over a donut to a waiting customer. “Hear what, Ruby?”

“They’re trying to choke me!” The voice came again—a woman speaking, for sure, but she didn’t sound in distress. She was… angry.

A flash of red, followed by a few “ows” and “heys” caught my attention. An overweight woman in a turquoise tent of a dress, her hair dyed a shade of crimson that had come from a bottle, elbowed members of the crowd left and right, stomping on feet. Her blue eyes blazed hatred and locked onto me.

What on earth? What have I done?

“Bee,” I said. “We’ve got a code red incoming.”

“Excuse your pun,” Bee replied.

Code red was our way of saying a dissatisfied customer was inbound. That or we’d just witnessed a fight or a murder or walked in on a dead body. All occurrences that had been frequent during our time in Carmel Springs, Maine.

Oof, I have to stop thinking about that town. Ever since we’d left after Christmas, my heart had been trapped back in Maine. Which hadn’t been part of the plan—it was time to move on. That was the reason I’d gotten a food truck in the first place.

The redheaded firecracker reached the counter. She slapped a donut down onto it, smooshing crumbs and glaze everywhere. The customer in the line next to her flinched away, staring.

“Ma’am?”

“You’re trying to choke me,” the woman erupted, pointing a crimson fingernail at me. “You and your disgusting donuts.”

“Excuse me, could you please lower your voice? You’re upsetting the other customers,” I said.

“Upsetting the other…” The woman’s cheeks pinked. “Upsetting them? Who cares about them? What about me?”

“What’s the problem?” Bee asked, always to the point. She didn’t take kindly to being yelled at, and she was protective of me.

“There’s a fly in my donut,” the woman said, pointing at the ruined treat. “Right there, see?”

I peered over at the flat counter and the crumbs spread across it. Pieces of the donut had been scattered everywhere, but there was no fly. I opened my mouth to tell her so, but that probably wouldn’t go well.

And the other customers had started getting antsy. The last thing I needed was another repeat of our first weeks in the last town. We’d gotten involved in a murder, and that had changed the public’s opinion of us at first.

A fly in the donut glaze wasn’t as bad, but it was still a reason not to visit the truck. I had to handle this perfectly. Diplomatically. I had to—

“There’s no fly in that donut,” Bee announced.

The woman glared. “How dare you. Are you calling me a liar?”

“That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”

The redhead gaped, her mouth opening and shutting. The other customers were just as round-eyed.

I patted the air in Bee’s direction then turned back to the lady. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Misty,” she said. “Misty Murphy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Murphy. My name is Ruby, and this is Bee. We’re new to town. If there was a bug in your donut, I’d be happy to provide you with another one. Would that work for you? Free of charge?”

Misty gritted her teeth. “No. I don’t want your disgusting donuts. You’re horrible bakers. Your donuts are stale, anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Bee growled. “We baked them fresh this morning. You’re—”

“Bee.” I had to keep things calm. It wasn’t easy—the words had brought an angry boil in my veins. “Miss Murphy, I’d like to—”

“Save your breath.” Misty shoved her hand toward me. “You’ve got nothing interesting to say.” She stormed off, her red hair glinting in the watery sunlight.

A silence followed her departure. Then the gossiping started.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to take deep breaths.

“What a horrendous person,” Bee said and accepted money from the customer in front of her.

She wasn’t wrong, but there was no use crying over… spilled donut?

“I’d better clean up this mess.” I hurried past Bee and out of the truck. What a terrible start to our first day in Muffin. I’d hoped the friendly name of the town would carry over to the attitude of the locals.

I made quick work of dusting off the counter, apologizing to the customers lining up next to me.

One of them, a young woman with sparkling blue eyes like two gems in her pale face, greeted me with a warm smile. She was pretty enough to be a model, her golden hair in a bun atop her head. “Hello,” she said, stepping out of the line and touching my arm.

“Hi. May I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, no, I’ll join the line again for a cupcake, but I just wanted to talk to you about Misty.”

“Misty?” I asked. “What about her?”

“Well, I wanted you to know that you shouldn’t take her terrible behavior seriously,” the blonde woman said. “Most of the people in Muffin don’t really like her. And I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but after what she said to you, I just wanted you to understand that no one takes her seriously.”

“Oh,” I said. “Oh, all right.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. But I was definitely intrigued. This is not another case to investigate, Holmes. Keep it together. “Thanks for trying to set me at ease,” I said. “I’m Ruby by the way.” I brushed off my hand and presented it.

“Harper Kelly.” She tugged on her ear, shyly. Her fingers were splotched with what looked like blue and yellow paint. “It’s lovely to meet you and to have baked goods in town. We’ve had a serious lack of anything sweet like this lately.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, stepping away from the truck so that the other customers could file in and place their orders with Bee.

“Well, because of Misty,” Harper said. “She owns the local bakery, but she’s truly terrible at baking. No one wants to go there anymore. The Honey Bun in the center of town? Yeah, it’s in the perfect spot to bring in business but… I had a donut from there the other day, and it had mold growing on it. Swore I’d never go back.”

Eugh. That explained why Misty had thrown a full-blown adult tantrum about our donuts.

Harper shook her head. “People are saying Misty’s dangerous—her father is the mayor—but I don’t believe that for a second. She’s just a sour woman who can’t get her way.”

“It sounds like she’s gotten to you.”

“Oh, she’s gotten to everyone. Never has a nice thing to say.” Harper tittered a laugh. “But what can we do?” She sighed. “We’re stuck with her. I only hope that no one gets food poisoning from her bakery. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

The information was a lot to process. I looked around, but Misty Murphy was long gone. “Can I get you something to eat?” I asked. “A cupcake, you said? No mold, I promise.”

“That would be lovely,” Harper said, rewarding me with another sugary smile.

Muffin already wasn’t what I’d expected or hoped for. I got the feeling that things were going to be just as interesting here as they’d been in Carmel Springs. Was that a good or a bad thing?

Heavens, only time would tell.