Punch, Pastries, and Poison by Harper Lin (ebook reader for pc and android .txt) 📕

competition with me. He even tolerated my commentary as I yelled at the bakers to put their dough in the freezer instead of the refrigerator and then to get it out of the freezer before it froze solid.

“You should apply for one of these,” he said at one point, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Since you know everything they should be doing.”

“Oh, like you should apply to play for the Patriots? You seem to be forgetting that I hear you yelling at the TV during football season... and basketball season... and hockey season.”

“Point taken,” he said, but the twinkle didn’t leave his eyes.

When the show was over, he patted me on the knee. “I better be getting back to work.” He gave me a tender look. “You going to be okay here on your own?”

I nodded. “I have Latte. He’ll protect me.”

Matt looked down at Latte, who was currently asleep on his back in the middle of the floor, his paws in the air, looking like he wouldn’t harm a fly, let alone an intruder. “Vicious mutt.”

“His DNA test said he’s a purebred.”

“Vicious purebred.” Matt grinned at me. “I’m glad you’ve perked up. I was worried about you—” He held up his hand to keep me from cutting him off. “And not just because someone tried to poison you. The Franny I know and love doesn’t give up and sit in the dark when things go wrong.” He paused and chuckled. “The Franny who annoys the crap out of Mike doesn’t either. Before you get any ideas, I’m not saying you should leave the house and go investigate or anything, just that you’re always saying you don’t have enough time to do the things you want—like experiment with new recipes, or move into the downstairs bedroom.”

He was right. The café kept me too busy to really experiment in the kitchen the way I would have liked to—everything from new drinks to new baked goods took time for me to figure out, time I didn’t usually have. And I’d been trying to move into the downstairs bedroom practically since I moved back into my childhood home. Maybe spending a few days at home wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Okay, you’re right,” I conceded and quickly made a face at his expression of faux shock. “I’ll try to find something productive to do this afternoon.”

He moved in and gave me a goodbye kiss then started backing towards the door. “Just don’t watch the next episode without me,” he said, gesturing at the TV.

“I’ve seen it three times already.”

He gave me a dirty look. “Just for that, I’m not making you my trademark spaghetti Bolognese tonight.”

“You mean destroying my kitchen?” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.” He left, and I stared at the TV, trying to decide how to spend my time. Spending my day—or days—at home was just giving in to whoever had it in for me, and I wasn’t the type who gave in.

“What should I do, Latte?”

He rolled onto his side but didn’t wake up.

“A lot of help you are.”

I wandered into the kitchen. Some coffee would help get me going. Some coffee was my standard solution for almost everything. I briefly considered playing with a new recipe using my home espresso machine, but I quickly decided that I’d rather stick with a classic latte. I did take the time—as always—to create a little latte art, pouring in a picture of a phoenix to inspire me.

When the coffee was ready, I went back out to the living room. Latte had taken advantage of my absence and moved back on the couch, sprawled out on top of my blanket. I wedged myself in and tried to think of what to do next. When it finally occurred to me—sometime shortly after the caffeine hit my bloodstream—it was so obvious I didn’t know how I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I had the list of people who’d been at the party, and I’d been working at the café yesterday. I could easily compare the list to who I’d seen the day before to figure out who had the opportunity to commit both poisonings.

Matt and Mike couldn’t possibly begrudge me a little detective work while I was holed up in my house, could they?

Chapter 20

An hour later, I had a complete list of everyone I could think of who had been at the party and at the café the day Ephy was poisoned. I was sure I didn’t have everyone, though. I picked up my phone and dialed Sammy.

When she answered, I could hear kitchen sounds in the background.

“Hi, Sammy. Do you have a few minutes to talk? It sounds like you’re busy.”

“Sure,” she chirped. “I was just starting dinner. Ryan and I are both off tonight, and I actually have time to cook, so I decided to make something nice.”

We chatted for a few minutes about the roast chicken she was making before I managed to turn the conversation around to the party guests who had been at the café the day before.

“Are you trying to investigate the poisonings yourself?” she asked immediately.

“I’m just trying to think of who had opportunity, that’s all,” I replied.

“I don’t know, Fran. You know Mike doesn’t like you getting involved in his investigations.”

“I’m not getting involved,” I tried to assure her. “I’m just thinking about it. I’ll tell Mike anyone we come up with.”

Sammy still hesitated. I could hear faint sizzling through the line as she started her gravy base. “You are going to tell him, right? You’re not going to go confront anyone yourself?”

“No, I’m just trying to get a list together.”

Another pause. “Don’t you think the police have thought of that already? Ryan said that this case is killing Mike.”

“Gosh, I hope not.”

“You know what I mean, Fran!”

I did. But I also knew that I was the one whose life was actually in danger.

“I’m sorry for being flippant,” I said, genuine contrition in my voice. “It’s just driving