Doughnuts and Deception (Peridale Cafe Cozy Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Doughnuts and Deception

  Peridale Café Cozy Mystery - Book 3

  By Agatha Frost

  About This Book

  Released: March 18th 2017

  Words: 41,000

  Series: Book 3 - Peridale Cozy Café Mystery Series

  Standalone: Yes

  Cliff-hanger: No

  Julia never expected to be caught up in another murder investigation, but when she discovers that homeless people are dying suspiciously and the police aren't investigating, she can't sit back and do nothing. After promising her young lodger, Jessie, that she will do everything she can to help, Julia finds herself diving headfirst into the case, aided by her new Detective Inspector boyfriend, Barker. Sure there is a serial killer preying on the vulnerable residents of an old burnout warehouse, Julia must act quickly to get to the bottom of the mystery, but can she crack the case before more bodies turn up?

  ***

  Copyright © Agatha Frost

  Cover designed by Ashley Mcloughlin

  Edited by Keri Lierman

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  For questions and comments about this book, please contact the author at [email protected]

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  OTHER BOOKS IN THE PERIDALE CAFÉ COZY MYSTERY SERIES

  Pancakes and Corpses (Book 1)

  OUT NOW!

  Lemonade and Lies (Book 2)

  OUT NOW!

  Doughnuts and Deception (Book 3)

  OUT NOW!

  Chocolate Cake and Chaos (Book 4)

  COMING APRIL 2017!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Julia reached under her bed, her fingers closing around the baseball bat. Her gran, Dot, had given it to her three weeks ago, insisting that it wasn’t safe for a single woman to be living alone, especially with the recent murders. Julia hadn’t taken her seriously, but had put it under her bed all the same, just in case. As she picked up the bat, she was glad for the gift.

  With the wooden bat in hand, she tiptoed towards her bedroom door. Holding her breath, she pressed her ear up against the cold oak, wanting to be sure she hadn’t imagined the rustling that had woken her. The unmistakable zip of a backpack confirmed her suspicions.

  She twisted the brass doorknob, wincing as the old cottage creaked around her. She didn’t know what she was going to do when she came face-to-face with the mystery person digging in her kitchen, but she hoped the bat would scare them off before she had to find out if she had a good swing.

  “I’ve called the police!” she cried out, the shake in her voice betraying her. “I’m armed!”

  The rustling stopped, and then something smashed against the tiles in her kitchen. Acting fast, she reached out and slapped for the hallway light, her fingertips narrowly missing the switch in the dark. She stepped on something fluffy, which let out an ear-piercing yowl. Jumping back, her bare heel caught the edge of her hallway rug, sending her tumbling backwards, the bat flying free in the air. She opened her eyes as gravity sent the bat soaring back towards her face. Rolling out of the way just in time, she crashed into the small table displaying the dozen roses Barker had given her. The bat clattered against the floor as she darted forward, catching the vase before it succumbed to a similar fate.

  “Julia?” Jessie cried, running out of the kitchen, fully dressed and clutching a backpack. “What are you doing?”

  Jessie flicked on the light Julia had been reaching for before she stepped on Mowgli, who was now cowering by the front door, sending daggers in her direction. Squinting at the light, she looked down at the vase of roses she was holding in her lap.

  “I thought you were a burglar,” Julia mumbled feebly, glancing awkwardly to the bat.

  Jessie took the vase from Julia and placed it back where it belonged. “You keep a baseball bat under your bed? You’re more gangsta than I thought, cake lady.”

  Julia gratefully accepted Jessie’s offer of a hand. Standing on both feet, she realised she had acted thoughtlessly in her sleepy state. Her gran’s fear mongering had worked.

  “Are you sleepwalking again?” Julia asked as she leaned over to pick up the bat.

  Jessie looked down at her clothes and then up at Julia, arching a dark brow. She was wearing her Doc Martins, baggy jeans ripped at the knees, and a heavy hoodie. They were the clothes she had worn when Julia had caught her stealing from her café two months ago, before she had offered Jessie a job and the use of her guest bedroom.

  “I had a dream,” Jessie said, tossing the full backpack over her shoulder. “I’ll explain it over a cup of tea.”

  Julia followed Jessie through to the kitchen, where all the drawers and cupboards were wide open. Julia’s favourite cat-shaped mug was scattered across her kitchen floor in pieces, having fallen victim to Jessie’s rummaging. Julia sat at her kitchen counter, scratching her head as she let out a yawn. The cat clock, with its swinging tail and darting eyes, told her it was only five in the morning.

  “I had a dream,” Jessie repeated, staring out into the dark garden as she filled the kettle. “I was homeless again. It felt so real.”

  “It was just a dream,” Julia offered, as comfortingly as she could. “You don’t ever have to worry about being homeless again. I won’t let that happen.”

  Jessie smiled over her shoulder as she set the kettle back in its stand. She plucked two individually wrapped teabags from the box in the cupboard and ripped them open with her teeth before dropping them into two mugs. While the kettle boiled, she fished the dustpan and brush from under the sink and started to clean up the shattered cat mug.

  “I’ll replace it,” Jessie said as she swept up the pieces. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I don’t want you to think I was robbing you.”

  Julia cast an eye over to the bag, and then to her kitchen cupboards. It appeared that most of her food had made its way into the bulging backpack.

  “It’s just a mug,” Julia said, shrugging and ignoring the small pang in her chest as she watched Jessie toss it into the bin. “I’ll get over it.”

  Jessie smiled again, but her young face was solemn. Julia wondered how bad the dream had been.

  “I was back on the streets,” Jessie continued, pouring the boiling water into the two mugs. “Back at the old Fenton Industrial Park. That’s where I was most of the time.”

  Julia had heard of Fenton Industrial Park more than once. It was a couple of miles from Peridale, on the outskirts of Cheltenham. The Peridale Post had covered the devastating fire that had caused all the businesses to flee the area. What it hadn’t covered was that a small community of homeless people had moved in and made the area the
ir own soon after, but she had heard that on the Peridale grapevine.

  “I know of it,” Julia said with a nod as Jessie set a cup in front of her. “I can’t imagine that being an easy way to live.”

  “It wasn’t,” Jessie said, sitting across from Julia, the dark circles under her eyes becoming obvious. “It was a horrible place to live, if I’m being honest, but it was home for six months. It felt more like six years. The winter seemed to go on forever, but we had each other, y’know? We were sort of a family. We watched each other’s backs and protected each other. When I used to nick cakes from your café, I’d take whatever I could back and share them out.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Julia said, blowing the edge of her scalding hot tea. “You’re a nice girl, Jessie.”

  “But I’m not, am I?” she cried, her voice suddenly shooting up. “Because I got this cushy new life and left them all there to get on with it.”

  “Is that what the bag is about?”

  Jessie glanced to the bag and nodded.

  “I woke up in a cold sweat,” she said, staring into her cup as the teabag steeped, its golden goodness swirling in small circles. “I felt so guilty. I left to find some food two months ago and never went back, not even to explain.”

  “Were you going back there?”

  “Only to give them food,” Jessie said, looking ahead at the empty cupboards. “I would have replaced it all before you woke up. I made a list.”

  Jessie reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled, messily written shopping list. Julia smiled, resting her hand on top of Jessie’s.

  “I don’t care about the food,” Julia said. “As long as you’re safe, that’s all I care about.”

  “I wouldn’t trade this in for nothin’,” Jessie looked around the small kitchen, as though she was taking in a grand castle. “But the others aren’t so lucky, are they?”

  Julia sipped her tea, the cogs in her brain churning at lightspeed. She had wanted to ask Jessie about her days of being homeless ever since first meeting her, but she hadn’t wanted to appear nosy. Gossiping was the number one pastime in Peridale, and Julia hadn’t wanted Jessie to think she was just another village snoop.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Julia said after taking another sip, the liquorice tickling the back of her throat. “Go back to sleep and we’ll visit Fenton Industrial Park together when the sun has risen. We don’t want to arrive when everyone is still asleep, do we?”

  Chewing the inside of her cheek, Jessie looked at the bag again. She seemed to want to grab it and run straight for the door, but Julia trusted her to see the sense in what she was offering.

  “I guess,” Jessie said, shrugging and letting out a yawn. “You don’t have to come.”

  “I want to.”

  Jessie took a sip of her tea, but as usual, she didn’t finish it. She slid off the stool and hovered next to Julia, looking like she wanted to say something. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Julia’s chest, squeezing tightly. Closing her eyes, she rested her hands on Jessie’s arms, smiling to herself.

  “Go on! Back to bed!” Julia ordered, tapping Jessie’s arms. “I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

  Jessie let go and headed back to her bedroom. Julia waited until she heard the creaking of Jessie’s metal bed-frame before she stood up. As she unloaded Jessie’s bag and returned the food to her kitchen cupboards, she tried to remember her mum’s old recipe for doughnuts.

  Looping around the roundabout for a second time, Julia glanced over to Jessie, who had trays of doughnuts stacked up on her knees. Fumbling with her hands on top of the plastic wrap securing the doughnuts in place, she cracked her knuckles again. She had been doing it since they had left the cottage.

  “You don’t have to be nervous,” Julia said, finally taking the turn after driving around a third time. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

  Jessie didn’t seem to have heard her. She stared ahead, continuing to crack her knuckles; the sound sending a shiver down Julia’s spine.

  From the moment Julia had woken Jessie soon after sunrise, she had sensed the girl’s fear. It didn’t surprise Julia. While she had been baking over one hundred doughnuts for the homeless residents of Fenton Industrial Park, Julia had wondered if returning there was the best thing for Jessie. Despite Jessie’s protests that she wasn’t leaving Julia, something deep within her squirmed uncomfortably.

  “We’re here,” Julia said, the burnt husk of the industrial park coming into view.

  Jessie snapped out of her trance state and stared ahead at the blackened warehouse buildings, which looked like they could fall to the ground at any moment. Fingers tightening around the steering wheel, Julia hated the thought of this being home to anybody, let alone a teenage girl.

  They pulled up outside of the industrial park, and it had a huge ‘FOR SALE’ sign looming next to the entrance, which in turn had a ‘SALE BY AUCTION’ sticker plastered across its front, with an auction date only a couple of weeks away. Through the spiked, metal fences, Julia spotted the community Jessie had spoken about, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “There’s so many people,” Julia whispered, the words escaping her mouth before she even had a chance to think about them.

  “The country’s hidden problem,” Jessie said with wisdom beyond her sixteen years. “We – I mean – they live in places like this because it’s easier for people to pretend we – I mean - they don’t exist.”

  Julia wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, but she bit her tongue before she let a lie slip out. She thought of her own perception of homeless people before she had met Jessie. There was nobody that she knew of in Peridale who was homeless. Until she caught Jessie breaking into her café, it always felt like an issue that happened in other parts of the country. Yet here she was, staring through the gaps in the metal fence at dozens of people, less than an hour’s drive from her front door. During her time living in London, there were homeless men and women on every corner asking for spare change. She would often dig a pound coin out of her purse for the most desperate looking of them, but there were so many it was impossible to help all of them. It was a problem most city folk were overly desensitised to. They blended into the pavement, huddled in doorways under rags while the rest of the world got on with their comfortable lives. Jessie was right, they were hidden, but Julia wondered if that was by choice, or because the rest of the country had stopped noticing them.

  After what felt like an age of staring, Julia twisted her keys in the ignition and drove through the broken down gates. Men and women were huddled around make-shift fires in burnt out barrels, others hiding from the early morning sunlight under blankets. Heads turned towards Julia’s vintage aqua blue Ford Anglia, but most didn’t bat an eyelid. She drove into an empty corner and jammed the handbrake in place. She glanced at the backseat at the stacks of doughnuts. When she had left her cottage, she had been sure she had baked enough to have leftovers to sell in the café on Monday morning, but that hope quickly vanished.

  Julia jumped out of her car and opened her boot. She dragged out her old folding wallpaper-pasting table and kicked it open, fastening the small hinges into place. After throwing a pale pink and blue picnic blanket over its tarnished surface, she heaved a giant Victorian silver coffee maker out of her car and placed it carefully on the rickety table. Taking the lid off the huge vat, she inhaled the still hot, rich coffee. She had been looking for an excuse to use the contraption since picking it up at a car-boot sale over a year ago.

  Jessie finally got out of the car and placed the doughnuts on the table, while Julia arranged the small cardboard cups, bag of sugar cubes taken from her café, and a box of coffee whitener.

  “Coffee and doughnuts!” Julia announced, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Free coffee and doughnuts to all who want them!”

  All heads turned to Julia this time and a line quickly formed in front of the table. Jessie handed out the doughnuts while Julia poured coffee from a tap jutting
out of an ornate lion’s mouth embedded in the coffee maker. People accepted their free sweet treat and hot drink while gratefully muttering their thanks.

  “Jessie?” an old worn voice called from the crowd of faces. “I thought that was you!”

  A slender, elderly man hobbled forward with the assistance of a wooden walking stick that had been patched up with duct tape in more than one spot. His grey hair was long and scraggly, cheekbones high and sharp, sunken eyes, and a heavy brow casting dark shadows over his face. He looked like he had the ability to look menacing without much effort, but his ear-to-ear smile was so warm, Julia wasn’t sure the man possessed a mean-spirited bone in his body.

  “Tommy!” Jessie cried, matching his smile.

  The old man broke through the line and embraced Jessie with one arm as he steadied himself with his stick. Jessie on the other hand gripped the man around the waist and buried her face into his mucky clothes. It brought a smile to Julia’s face as she continued to serve coffee and doughnuts.

  When Jessie finally let go of the man, they moved around to the front of Julia’s car to talk. Julia served the rest of the people in the line as quickly as she could. When she ran out of coffee and only the crumbs of the doughnuts were left, she wiped her fingers down the front of her pale peach 1940s style dress before joining Jessie and the old man she had called Tommy.

  “I’ve been hearing all about you,” Tommy said, holding a hand out to Julia. “If I had a hat, I would take it off to you ma’dear.”

  Julia accepted the man’s weathered hand. The strength of his grip surprised her.

  “I just did what any other decent person would do,” Julia said, smiling at Jessie.

  “I don’t think every person who calls themselves decent would take in a girl from the streets,” Tommy assured her. “You really are a marvellous woman. And an incredible baker too. Jessie would bring your cakes back here when she – y’know – borrowed them.”