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

a break-in at his jewelry store. Could any of them be holding a grudge against me for my role in investigating those crimes? It was possible—but who? And why?

I drifted off to sleep before I could think about it anymore.

The next day was more of the same. I immediately cleared a path to the espresso machine and was on my third cup of coffee before I made it back to my kitchen organization. Sleep and a fresh infusion of caffeine had it going more quickly than it had the previous afternoon. I got everything organized and put away by lunch, except for a cast-iron skillet I’d found that I set aside for Sammy. She’d mentioned wanting one, and I had never used the one I didn’t even know I had, so I wanted to give it to her.

Mike called around lunchtime with an update on the case, or at least what he called an update anyway. All he really said was that they were looking into leads and would keep me posted. And I was still to stay at home, despite my best efforts at convincing him to let me out.

I started getting antsy again around midafternoon and convinced the back door officer—a different one from yesterday—to let me play fetch with Latte. I was allowed provided I kept both feet indoors at all times. Apparently, Mike had been serious about not even setting a foot outside.

By midafternoon the next day, I had cleaned out the refrigerator and pantry and made a detailed shopping list for Matt. Immediately after dinner—pizza again—I sent him to the grocery store to stock up. I made him video-chat me anytime he wasn’t sure exactly which product to get so that I could approve a replacement. The last time I’d asked him to pick up flour at the grocery store, he came back with the self-rising kind, and I wasn’t willing to risk that again.

The day after that I spent baking. I prepped enough puff pastry for about a year, wrapped almost all of it up tightly and froze it. That was one great thing about puff pastry—it froze incredibly well. I took the portion I’d set aside and used it to make chocolate rolls, which I shared with the officers staking out my house. I put a few prepared rolls in the fridge to bake for dessert, since I knew how much they loved them. I baked some bread, started a batch of brioche, and made chicken parmesan for dinner. By the time Matt got home, dinner was on the table, the house was immaculate, and I was bored out of my mind.

“I called Mike today,” I said as we sat down to dinner. I had just popped the chocolate rolls in the oven and figured they’d be out and cool just in time for dessert.

“Oh yeah?” Matt had already cut a tender piece of chicken off with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. “Chicken’s delicious.”

“Thank you.” I took a bite myself. I had to admit—I’d done a good job.

“So what did you and Mike talk about?” he asked after enough time that I thought he’d forgotten.

“I just asked him to come by tonight.”

Matt put his fork down. “Why?”

“I just want to see how the investigation’s going.” I twirled some spaghetti onto my fork and popped it into my mouth.

He looked at me with suspicion. “You couldn’t ask that over the phone?”

I smiled. “I’ve been stuck in this house for days on Mike’s orders. I feel like coming by to update me in person is the least he can do.”

“Fair enough,” he said without looking like he believed me at all.

We finished our dinner just as Mike knocked on the door. As always, his knock was more of a bang that could scare the life out of you if you weren’t expecting it. I actually was expecting it and still jumped out of my chair.

The oven timer went off just as Matt opened the door for Mike.

“What smells like chocolate?” Mike asked.

“Franny made dessert,” Matt said.

“Save me any dinner?”

I suddenly wondered if I should have made him a portion as well. The question must have shown on my face because Mike immediately smiled.

“Just kidding, Franny. Sandra’ll have dinner for me at home, which is where I’m finally going right after this.”

“The chocolate rolls just need to cool for a few minutes,” I said, coming into the living room and sitting down on the couch. Matt and Mike had already taken their seats. Latte was leaning on Mike’s leg, getting his hair all over Mike’s dress pants. Mike seemed okay with it, though—he was leaned over, giving Latte double-handed scratches.

“So, what’s up, Franny?” he asked as Latte lifted his hand.

“I was just hoping for an update on the case,” I replied cheerfully.

Matt and Mike both looked at me with skepticism, but Mike gamely answered. “Not much to report, unfortunately. We’ve been tracking down leads, but there’s not much evidence. The best we got was a single hair from your steps, but without a DNA sample to compare it to, it doesn’t give us much. If we identify a suspect, we can use it to confirm that they were here, but without one, we’re out of luck.”

“If you identify a suspect?” Matt asked.

Mike sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s where we are.”

“So can I go back to work?” I asked.

Like they shared one brain, they simultaneously burst out with “No!”

“So, what’s your plan, then? You’re just going to keep me here until someone spontaneously confesses?”

“No, of course not,” Mike said. Matt, on the other hand, looked like he would consider it.

“Then what?”

“Fran, I’m just not comfortable relaxing the police protection just yet.”

I stood up. “Fine, then I’m just going to solve the case from here.”

“We will solve it. You just need to give us time,” Mike said.

“You can’t do that, Franny,” Matt said at the same time.

I stomped into the kitchen and threw some of the chocolate rolls in a storage container. I took them