Brownies and Bloodshed (Peridale Cafe Cozy Mystery Book 19) Read online

  She wanted to know more about Ian now more than ever. Barker might turn into an official PI, but Julia already had a PI living within her, and that PI, perhaps from a past life, was the reason she found herself at the B&B after closing the café for the day.

  “Julia!” Evelyn exclaimed when she answered the door. “I foresaw that I would get a visitor! Please, come in.”

  Julia gladly accepted the invitation, relieved to find Eugene and Marley sat in Evelyn’s eclectically decorated sitting room. Each had a cat in their laps, a tabby in Eugene’s and a ginger in Marley’s. If the men weren’t happy to see her, their broad smiles hid their true feelings well.

  “Julia!” Eugene boomed, his voice containing all the theatre and drama of their first meeting. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I thought I’d check in on you.” Julia held up a paper bag. “There weren’t many leftovers today, so I rustled up a quick batch of brownies. There’s some for you too, Evelyn.”

  “How kind!” Evelyn beamed. “Make yourself at home. I’ll make a pot of tea.”

  Julia did as she was told and removed her light summer jacket, draping it over the back of a floral armchair next to Eugene. If any two people fitted Evelyn’s eccentric décor, they were Eugene and Marley. Their outfits were almost identical to the ones they’d worn when she met them, with Eugene in crushed velvet and Marley in loose linen. Amongst the clutter collected from Evelyn’s worldly travels, they appeared to represent the two sides of Evelyn’s personality; she couldn’t have asked for two more perfect B&B guests.

  “This is Trevor,” Marley said as he stroked the ginger cat. “He was already named when we adopted him, but it suited him.”

  “And this is Judy,” Eugene added. “She was Brenda when she came to us, but there was no way on this green planet I wouldn’t have at least one cat with a fabulous name.”

  “After Judy Garland?” Julia asked, reaching out to tickle Judy’s head.

  Eugene rested his hand against his chest. “How did you know?”

  “Because you’re a cliché, dear,” Marley answered with a wink.

  “How dare you!” Eugene feigned outrage. “I’ve spent a lifetime cultivating my unique personality. She could have been Judge Judy or Judy Finnigan … but yes, you are correct, dear. She’s named after my beloved Judy Garland. You know, in 1969, I saw her perform at the Talk of the Town in London and—”

  “Here we go,” Marley interrupted. “You’ve got him going now. He won’t stop until he runs out of breath.”

  “Ignore my dear old husband,” Eugene said with pursed lips and a shake of his thick hair. “He’s jealous because he knows I’ll never love him as much as I adore Miss Garland. I was a young man of thirty when I saw her. I was up front, and she looked right at me as she sang ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’.”

  “You can’t prove that,” Marley insisted.

  “But I know she did.” Eugene winked at Julia. “Sometimes, I can’t believe I married a man with no reverence for the icons.”

  Despite their words, Eugene and Marley shared a smile that let Julia know their jibes were in jest. Jessie might have called it ‘banter’, but Julia called it love. It was the light-hearted ribbing that could only come from years of deep, ingrained love and respect.

  “I loved her in The Wizard of Oz,” Julia revealed, realising she had contributed very little to the conversation thus far. “Gran and I would watch it on a loop.”

  “See!” Eugene roared, snapping at Marley. “I told you Dorothy South was a woman of taste. Or is it Dorothy Cropper, now?”

  “I’m not sure,” Julia admitted. “I’m sure they’ll iron out those details when things calm down.”

  “Quite.” Eugene nodded. “I should have known the wedding was cursed when I saw our costumes, but I was far too excited to play dress-up. At my age, you don’t get many chances to have fun like that.”

  Julia leaned in. “Cursed?”

  “Because of the film, dear,” Eugene explained, shifting in his seat, the cat unmoving. “Poor little Judy had a terrible time making that picture. They made her life hell! Uppers, downers, and everything in between. And don’t even get me started on the rest of her career! Oh yes, it was cursed, and my brother’s murder is just the latest twist in the story.”

  Evelyn shuffled in, silencing them. She set to work dividing the brownies onto four plates, and Julia wondered if a curse could be behind Ian’s murder. The explanation was far-fetched, but it was also the only one on the table.

  While Evelyn stirred the tea, Julia watched Eugene stroke Judy. She couldn’t help but smile; she liked the man a lot. It was far too easy to hang off his every word, which made her reason for visiting all the more duplicitous. She wished she was there to talk about Judy Garland and old Hollywood, but she wasn’t; she was there to unpick some of the tightly woven mystery surrounding Ian. By Percy’s admission, Eugene was the closest Ian had had to a confidant, so it was a natural place to start.

  “None for me,” Marley said, refusing the brownie. “Unless they’re vegan?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Julia admitted. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Not to worry.” Marley smiled. “I made my bed, so I’ll happily sleep in it. One gets rather used to turning down the sweeter things in life, but I’m sure they’re as delicious as they look.”

  “Oh!” Eugene roared after a bite. “That they are. They weren’t lying about you, Julia. You are an exceptional baker! This is divine! I apologise for my husband’s beliefs because he is missing out.”

  Julia loved baking, but she loved seeing people’s reactions more. She felt terrible for forgetting Marley’s dietary needs because she would have liked to have given him a small slice of happiness.

  “Now,” Eugene said, putting the half-finished brownie on the side table. “I can’t indulge myself as much as I’d like because we’re all one brownie away from diabetes at this age.” He leaned closer to Julia, eyes locking on her. “What’s this Evelyn tells us about you being something of a sleuth?”

  A lump formed in Julia’s throat as she attempted to smile; her cover had been blown.

  “Oh, yes!” Evelyn cried as she finished one brownie and reached for a second. “Nobody can bake a brownie and solve a murder like our Julia. She solved my poor daughter, Astrid’s, disappearance twenty years after she vanished. That’s something the police could never do.”

  Julia’s cheeks burnt as she smiled awkwardly at Eugene. From the steely look behind his wide smile, she knew he could see right through her. Why hadn’t she just come around to talk about Judy Garland and share her brownies?

  “I suppose I have an inexplicable yearning for the truth,” Julia said, her cheeks heating even more. “Solving a mystery and creating a new cake recipe feel the same to me. They both require the same amount of creativity and logic.”

  “And ingenuity,” Eugene added, leaning in to pick up his tea. Judy sprang from his lap and settled in Julia’s. “Any sleuth worth their salt investigates the family tree first, so don’t feel bad for coming here. I love watching all those programmes on the telly. I was expecting you. Have you seen The Mousetrap play in London? Oh, you must! I admire anyone willing to step out of the tiny box society has built for them.”

  “Well.” Julia cleared her throat as she stroked Judy, feeling equal parts relieved and anxious. “I’d like a clearer picture of who Ian was. Percy mentioned you were close?”

  “Compared to Percy’s relationship with Ian, quite a few could have appeared close.” Eugene’s expression turned thoughtful as he sipped his tea. “But yes, I suppose from the outside it would appear I gave my eldest brother more chances than others did. I wanted to believe, like most siblings would, there was more to him than he showed, but I’m afraid I got things very wrong. Considering his bizarre and cruel final choices, I should have seen Ian for who he was many years ago. After all, he never pretended to be anything other than what he presented. I’ll give him that. Mother did say I was too forgivin
g. Even when he crossed me like everyone else, I never cast him out.”

  Eugene sipped more tea, leaving Julia to glance at Marley, who had gone suspiciously long without interrupting his husband to amend or add something.

  “Did you see Ian often?” Julia pushed, hoping to add more points to Barker’s sparse timeline.

  “Not really,” Eugene replied. “Every few years, he’d turn up. He wasn’t the type to come for birthdays and Christmas, but he showed up when he needed money. I never gave it to him, of course, but it didn’t stop him trying. I suspect I was always his last resort because he knew how I was. I’m a caring and loving man, but I’m not willing to be walked over. I’ve always said, you can only be walked over if you lie down and take it. Poor Percy was never good at standing up for himself, and Ian used that against him.”

  “Perhaps I could try to contact him?” Evelyn suggested as she rattled crystals around in her hand. “My powers feel especially heightened tonight. I could have a séance set up in minutes.”

  “Perhaps another night,” Eugene replied with a soft smile. “I’m not sure I’d have much nice to say to my brother if he came through.”

  “We didn’t kill him,” Marley finally said, eyes firmly on Julia. “If that’s what you think, we didn’t.”

  “The poor woman hasn’t insinuated that we had!” Eugene snapped, surprising Julia by jumping to her defence. “But my tactless husband is correct. We didn’t kill him.”

  They slurped their tea in the silence that followed, and Julia was sure her face was redder than ever before.

  “I heard Percy fled the scene,” Evelyn whispered, breaking the silence. “Is that true?”

  “Sort of,” Julia replied with a nod. “He said he wanted to gather his thoughts, and he fell asleep in his flat.”

  Another silence dragged out, and Julia realised that Percy’s story sounded less believable coming from her than it had from Percy’s lips. The musical doorbell rang out, filling the stuffy silence. Evelyn darted up and scurried straight for the door, leaving the trio alone with the two cats.

  “I don’t like to think my brother could be capable of such a thing,” Eugene said as he shuffled to the edge of the seat. “I think it’s time I had a little lie down. I might have the spirit of a youth, but my body has lived through almost eight decades, and I can feel all of them in my bones right now.”

  Eugene scooped Judy out of Julia’s lap and headed for the door with the cat in his arms. Before he left, he turned back, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

  “I invited Ian to the meal at the Comfy Corner,” Eugene admitted. “If you’re as good as I think you are, you’ll find that out soon enough, and you should hear it from me. I was foolish; I thought Ian had changed. He turned up at my house the day after we received our invitations in the post. I wasn’t surprised Ian didn’t receive one, nor was he, but there was something different about him. It was the first time he didn’t ask about money, which made me think…”

  Eugene’s voice trailed off, and he turned fully, his eyes meeting Julia’s.

  “Made you think what?”

  “It’s silly, really.” Eugene’s brows tensed over his dark eyes. “But for Ian to not mention money made me wonder if he had pulled off one of his batty schemes. I’m an honest man, Julia. I’ve haven’t always stood in the light of my truth, but I’m too old to lie now. I have nothing to hide from you.” He stared deeper into Julia’s eyes, a dry smile lingering. “Thank you for the brownie, it was delicious.”

  Eugene left the room, and Trevor the ginger cat ran after him. Much as Julia wanted to speak to fill the new silence, she forced herself to sip her tea instead. The look in Eugene’s eyes had rendered her speechless. The look had clearly said, ‘Don’t push me because I will push back’, and while it scared her a little, now she only wanted to push more.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make you anything vegan,” Julia said as she stood and grabbed her jacket. “If you’re still sticking around for the week, I’d still love your help developing something for the café.”

  Marley thought for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that. We were thinking of cutting our little Cotswold holiday short, but the police have asked us to stick around to aid in their investigation. Between you and me, a week without baking isn’t a week I want to live. Baking is my therapy.”

  “I always say that too.”

  Marley beamed. “Then it’s a date! How does Wednesday afternoon work for you?”

  “Perfectly.”

  Marley’s smile told Julia she hadn’t ruined her chances with her new extended family. She had get to know Marley more if they spent time alone in the café, and if the police hadn’t solved the murder by then, she might also learn more about Ian. But, more than anything, she was excited to bake with someone who shared her passion.

  With a sudden itch to get home to continue her twice-interrupted conversation with Barker, she left Marley in the sitting room and headed for the front door. She passed three young men talking to Evelyn. From their neat shirts and ties, Julia assumed they were Jehovah’s Witnesses, who, ironically, looked like they wished no one had answered the door, as Evelyn was chewing their ears off.

  Walking back to her car, Julia mused that she hadn’t believed them as explicitly as she had done Percy; her gut told her she hadn’t heard the whole story from either of them. Perhaps it was only because she didn’t know them as well as she knew Percy, but either way, she was determined to keep digging. Now that Barker wanted to dive back into the world of detecting, she wouldn’t have to do it alone.

  As she climbed into her car, ready to set off home, she spotted Percy and Dot retreating into Dot’s cottage in her rear-view mirror. Reversing out of her spot, she had the sinking realisation that the day’s gossiping about Percy had planted a tiny seed of doubt about his innocence in her mind.

  8

  “Honestly, dear,” Dot said with a shaky smile, “we’re doing just fine.”

  Julia mirrored her gran’s smile, not that she believed it. It was Tuesday, two days after the wedding murder, and from the creased bags under Dot’s eyes, she hadn’t fit in much sleep.

  “If you need anything,” Julia repeated, busying herself with sweeping the floor after another long day at the café, “anything at all, ask. You know where I am.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Dot replied, patting the foil lid on the dish of lasagne Julia had put together for her. “I appreciate everything you do already. Poor Percy can barely get himself up off the sofa. I think he’s the most upset about everyone thinking he’s guilty. It’s knocked him for six.”

  “People will soon get bored.”

  “I hope so.”

  “There’ll be something new this time next week, and hopefully not another murder,” she reassured her, hoping it would be correct. “People will forget any of this ever happened.”

  Dot offered another weary smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I wish we had gone on that honeymoon after all,” Dot said as she scooped up the lasagne dish. “Since we’re spending our first week as a married couple completely and utterly miserable, it would have been nice to do it under the sun with a cocktail in hand.”

  “You could still get a last-minute deal.”

  Dot sighed. “The police have asked us to remain in Peridale, so we couldn’t, even if we wanted to. They might as well have branded Percy with a giant ‘guilty’ stamp.”

  Julia scrambled for the words to assure her gran that the police were only going through their usual routine procedure. They had asked the same of Eugene and Marley, and likely Thomas and Helen over in Riverswick, too. But Dot’s eyes said all Julia needed to know; she was in too much pain to be convinced otherwise. It didn’t help that Dot was right. Everyone in the village thought Percy was guilty, and she didn’t doubt the police would soon come to the same conclusion.

  “Have the police given you any information?” Julia asked, deciding to stick to facts.

  “Not a scrap.”
Dot rolled her eyes. “Well, they confirmed that a heart attack likely killed Ian before the liquid nitrogen burns did, but since he wouldn’t have had a heart attack without someone pushing his head into the vat, it’s still murder.”

  Julia’s mind kicked into gear. She thought back to the sight of Ian slumped on the floor next to the vat of liquid nitrogen and shuddered, suddenly reminded of when Leslie Innes joined St. Peter’s Primary School in Year Four and immediately turned into the biggest bully Julia had ever met. Even at eight years old, Leslie directed her vitriol at everyone, including Julia. On one wet afternoon, she attempted to dunk Julia’s head in one of the tiny toilets. She succeeded, but Leslie soaked herself in toilet water in the process. Leslie only lasted at St. Peter’s Primary School for a single month before transferring into a school for troubled students. Last Julia had heard, Leslie was living in Australia, working as a hairstylist.

  “They searched Percy’s flat this morning,” Dot continued, her voice shrinking even more, “and I suspect they’ll be digging through mine soon enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if that DI Christie fella planted something so he can get back to putting his feet up.”

  “If Percy is innocent, you have nothing to—”

  “If?” Dot interjected, her eyes the size of saucers. “Percy is innocent.”

  Before Julia could defend her choice of words, the café door opened, and in strolled Barker. The ring of the bell above the door appeared to snap Dot out of whatever short fury she had entered.

  “I should get home and warm this up.” Dot patted the foil again. “Poor Percy will wonder where I got to.”

  Dot left, giving Barker only a nod of acknowledgement. Julia and Barker watched Dot scurry across the village green, eyes firmly on her cottage, never so much as glancing in the direction of the church or the still-closed village hall.