Murder Most

Vintage

Abi Anderson Cozy Mysteries

Book 3

by Zanna Mackenzie

MURDER MOST VINTAGE– © 2020 Zanna Mackenzie

The moral rights of the author have been asserted. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All plots, incidents, characters, locations, organisations, names, etc. are fictitious, created from the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, incidents, locations, organisations, names are purely coincidental. No part of this book may be stored, shared, copied, transmitted or reproduced in any way without express written permission from the author.

About This Story:

Vintage clothing celebrity Polly is murdered in her store and special agents Abi and Jake from the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency (otherwise known as the CCIA) are sent to uncover who killed her. Could it be a jealous ex-boyfriend? Perhaps her estranged sister had something to do with it? Could Milly from the cupcake bakery next door to Polly’s Vintage Finds have had a hand in her demise?

Join Abi and Jake on another sleuthing mission to find out!

CHAPTER ONE

“Her social media channels are full of her death,” I say as I close my phone.

Jake shrugs. “It’s the way of the modern world, unfortunately.”

Polly Blythe, founder of Polly’s Vintage Finds, super blogger and YouTube star, has been murdered.

All around us on this bitterly cold January day the crowds are thronging the pavements close to Polly’s Vintage Finds, her flagship shop. Police are fending people off as they clamour to leave flowers and cards outside the store windows in memory of their vintage finds heroine.

Jake and I flash our Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency badges at the policemen guarding the store entrance and they let us into the inner sanctum.

Wow. I’m not a person who would list shopping as her hobby and my tiny flat is verging on the minimalist when it comes to decor and possessions but even I have to admit Polly’s Vintage Finds is awesome. The space is packed with unique items from jewellery to shoes and suitcases to cushions. Everything is beautifully displayed. A wool scarf in stunning autumn shades of chunky wool catches my eye and I step a little closer to check out the price tag as I walk past.

How much?

Seriously?

Hmm. I guess there are no bargains to be found in this store then – even if every single item is at the very least second-hand and some of it is probably older than me! That’s what happens when vintage becomes trendy I suppose. Polly certainly knew how to market her brand and use it to upscale things to attract the top prices.

“This way to the murder scene,” a member of the local constabulary informs us as he slides back a curtain that hides the inner workings of the store.

There’s a cluttered desk, piles of bags overflowing with stuff waiting to be assessed before hitting the shop floor, a tiny kitchenette is tucked in the corner and the patterned carpet has stains and holes galore.

“She was discovered at the desk,” the policeman says, pointing to the desk unnecessarily. “The, er...body, well, it has been removed now.”

Obviously. I think we can figure that much out.

“Who found her?” Jake asks.

“The assistant manager,” the policeman replies. “She’s out the back. Rather upset.”

While Jake continues assessing things in the shop’s back office, I take the opportunity to scoot outside. There’s a miniscule courtyard behind the store and it’s in there that I find a woman perched on a metal patio chair, rocking herself back and forth and sobbing her heart out.

“Hi, there,” I say cautiously, not wanting to spook her.

She pauses, sniffles into a soggy and bedraggled tissue and then looks up at me, her eyes red and her face puffy from all the crying.

I crouch down next to her. “I’m Abi. I’m with the agency sent to find out what happened to Polly. I’m so sorry for what happened.”

A nod is as much as I get before she hides behind the tissue again.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Petra,” she eventually replies between sniffles.

“Have you worked here long, Petra?” I press.

More nodding.

“How long?”

Petra blows her nose and takes a gulp of air. “Two years.”

“So you knew Polly before she was famous?”

“Yes. My older brother created his own YouTube channel as a showcase for his rock music and I told Polly all about it.” She smooths the wrinkles in her navy pencil skirt before continuing. “She wanted to know more so Oliver, that’s my brother, he taught Polly how to go about setting her own YouTube channel up and that was the start of...”

“Her being famous?”

Petra nods again. “People liked her style, the way she made things possible for everyone. She showed us how to spend just a few pounds on a vintage outfit that could look a million dollars.”

I doubt there’s anything in her store these days that costs just a few pounds though.

“There are crowds of people outside wanting to pay tribute to Polly,” I say, hoping it will offer some degree of comfort to her employee. “She was obviously very much loved.”

Except of course for somebody who definitely wasn’t a fan – the person who murdered her.

“I hate to have to ask you this but can you think of anyone she may have upset? Is there anyone she argued with recently? Anything you can remember could help us to find who did this.”

Petra clutches the remains of the tissue to her nose and stares at the brick wall forming the other side of the courtyard. I get to my feet, giving her time to compose herself and time to try and think.

“Abi! Got a minute?” Jake asks as he appears through the doorway.

I nod, then briefly rest a hand on Petra’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a moment. Take your time.”

Jake and I step inside the building so Petra cannot hear us.

“Found out anything interesting?” he asks me.

“Not yet. You?”

He leans against the wall near the door. “I’ve learnt that despite her fame and perceived success, she rented this place and owes her landlord a lot of money in rent. She hadn’t paid him for four months and was about to face an eviction notice.”

“Have agency HQ supplied us with information on her financial status yet?” I check.

“Yep. She’s definitely not short of money. She has several current accounts with plenty of money in them plus three savings accounts, pensions, stocks and shares, you name it. She also owns three properties and one of them is a mansion on the south coast.”

I frown. “Then why hadn’t she paid her rent?”

CHAPTER TWO

“Maybe there was a personal reason for that, rather than a financial one,” Jake surmises.

“How do you mean?”

He taps away on his phone for a moment and then turns the screen to face me. A guy in a suit, probably in his thirties, perfectly fitting the tall, dark and very handsome romantic stereotype stares back at me. “This is her landlord?” I guess.

Jake nods. “Maybe they were involved and when they fell out, Polly decided to withhold rent due to lingering animosity.”

“That’s a big assumption.”

“It’s a starting point,” he bats back.

“True. Look, I’ll go and see if Petra can think of anyone who may have it in for her boss. Won’t be long.”

When I open the door to the courtyard it is to discover that Petra has vanished. Damn. I neglected to mention that she should stay put but with the state she was in, I didn’t expect her to go wandering off. Just in case she’s still close by, I open the gate at the back of the courtyard and take a look up and down the narrow alleyway behind the buildings.

No Petra.

Brilliant.

There’s a rattling of locks and latches and a woman’s face appears through the gate of the premises next door.

“Are you the police?” a woman asks as she steps into full view. She’s tall and has curly blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The bright pink apron she’s wearing is emblazoned with the name Milly’s Cupcake Bakery.

“Yes,” I reply as it’s easier than explaining about the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency. I do work for a law enforcement agency so it’s not a big fib.

Offering a hand to shake she steps forward. “I’m Milly. I own the bakery next door. Terrible business what happened. Poor Polly.”

“Did you see or hear anything suspicious earlier by any chance?” The agency case notes suggest Polly was killed early this morning. Bakeries normally open pretty early, don’t they? This woman might have seen something that could help us track down the murderer.

“I heard shouting,” she replies. “Lots of shouting. Thing is...” she pauses and shifts from one foot to another looking uncomfortable.

“The thing is?” I prompt.

“I don’t want to speak ill of the dead or anything,” she begins and then stops again.

“But?”

She sighs. “Polly was a lovely woman, she could be a real sweetheart but she could also be volatile and vindictive. Not the kind of woman to cross if you see what I mean.”

“So it wasn’t unusual to hear shouting from your neighbour then? Is that what you mean?”

Milly presses her lips together.

“Do you know who she was doing all of this arguing with?” I ask.

“Boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends, not a boyfriend? Plural?”

She nods. “She was seeing her landlord for starters. He’s beyond yummy so I can totally understand that. She was also seeing some guy from the press. Not from a local newspaper, one of those fancy Fleet Street daily papers. And then there was Steve.”

Oh boy, this is starting to get complicated on the romantic front. “Steve?”

“Her sister’s ex-fiancé,” Milly supplies with a frown. “Pinched him right from under her older sister’s nose she did and it was only a month to their wedding as well. Her sister was distraught.”

OK. So now we are seeing two sides to Polly. She was a much-loved media starlet taking the vintage world by storm. It sounds like she was also a man-eater, out to get any guy she wanted regardless of who she hurt. I wonder how many other faces there are to our murder victim.

“Understandably. Well, thanks for the information. I’ll call round if we need to know anything else,” I say as I look up and down the alleyway once more in case Petra has reappeared.

“You’re not looking for Pet, are you?” Milly asks.

“Pet? Oh, Petra, yes. She vanished from the yard next door. We were having a little chat.”

Milly opens the gate to her bakery’s yard. “She’s in my place. I gave her a strong cup of tea and two red velvet cupcakes to steady her nerves. Come on through.”

The office and staffroom at the back of the bakery are far more organised than the equivalent space in Polly’s Vintage Finds. Everything here is in its place and as we open the door, I spy Petra going through some paperwork. She hears us and swiftly closes the file and slots it back on top of the in-tray. That’s odd. Why would she be looking at papers at the bakery? She doesn’t work here too, does she?

“Feeling a little better now?” Milly asks as Petra slides back onto a chair and reaches for the remains of a cup of tea.

Petra shakes her head and sniffles into a tissue again.

Is she trembling? It seems like it. It must be the shock of Polly’s murder.

“Look, why don’t you head on home, Petra?” I suggest to her. “Maybe try to distract yourself with watching television or something? Go and see a friend?”

She is on her feet in a second. “Thank you. Yes. I will go home for a while and try to calm down a bit.”

Milly gives her a fierce hug before Petra pops back next door, presumably to collect her coat and bag.

“She seems very upset,” I say to Milly. “I know it must be a huge shock discovering your murdered boss but were they good friends as well as working together?”

“Oh yes, the best of friends,” Milly says, handing me a plate with a beautifully decorated pink and silver cupcake on it. It’s all swirls and butterflies. “Drink?”

“No, thanks. This cake looks amazing. Thanks.”

Milly beams. “Thank you. I take great pride in every single item that leaves this bakery. They all have to be perfect.”

I turn the cake around in my hand. It is a work of art. “Well, this one is certainly perfect. How long have you been running your business from here?”

“Almost two years now,” she replies, picking up the folder I’d spotted Petra looking at and sliding it into a draw out of sight. “Business is going brilliantly. I really need bigger premises these days. I’ve started looking at suitable places in the area but it’s tough you know?”

As Milly bustles around, tidying a space that doesn’t really need tidying, I finish the cake and offer the plate back. “Well, I can see why your bakery is doing so well, that cake was absolutely delicious.”

Milly beams again. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time, I’m sure you have work to do,” I say, heading for the door.

She follows me. “You know where I am if you’ve any further questions.”

I pause in the doorway. “Actually, I do have another question. Does Petra work here at the bakery as well as next door at Polly’s store?”

Milly looks confused and shakes her head. “No, she doesn’t work here. I don’t employ her.”

“Oh well, OK. Thanks.”

“You told Petra she could go home?” Jake checks with an unamused expression when I arrive back in the messy office of Polly’s Vintage Finds.

I nod. “She was too upset to keep hanging around. It wasn’t fair. We know where she lives if we’ve any further questions for her.”

Tugging Jake away from the local policemen still in the store doing their various checks and searches, we head back out into the yard.

“I was next door talking to the bakery owner. Something weird happened. I saw Petra going through paperwork relating to the bakery in the back office. Why would she do that? She doesn’t work there, I checked.”

Jake frowns. “That does seem odd.”

“Anyway, the woman next door was telling me how Polly had lots of boyfriends and rather acrimonious relationships with them. She even stole her sister’s fiancé just before the wedding.”

“So we could be looking at ex-boyfriends out for revenge then.” Jake hands his phone to me and the screen is full of an article about some YouTube starlet angry over the things Polly said about her at a recent celebrity party. “Beth Star isn’t exactly Polly’s number one fan either by the look of things. Think we could probably pop her on the suspect list. She certainly had motive to kill Polly after she tried to ruin her reputation.”

“OK, so we have the starlet and the landlord on the list of suspects so far. Plus any other disgruntled boyfriends that come out of the woodwork during this investigation and maybe even Polly’s sister too, after all, she stole her fiancé.”

“That’s quite a list of potential suspects and we’ve only just started,” Jake says with a shake of his head. “The public might love Polly and her vintage emporium but when you start digging behind the public persona it sounds like she had enemies galore.”

“Quite. So, who do we have a chat with next?”

CHAPTER THREE

We discover the unhappy YouTube starlet lives relatively close by and so opt to use our contacts to arrange a chat with her at her home.

A woman introducing herself as Beth’s agent answers the door of the posh London flat we find ourselves at and she ushers us inside. Sitting on a huge sofa dressed in a gold velvet tracksuit, Beth’s hair is pulled back in a ponytail with an elastic band to secure it in place and her face is devoid of make-up.

Getting to her feet, she greets us and invites us to sit down.

“I can’t believe Polly is gone,” she says, waving a hand in front of her face to ward off tears. “I’m simply horrified.”

“We thought you two were mortal enemies after what she said about you to the media,” Jake says.

“Oh that was all staged,” Beth replies. “Polly and I were actually good mates.”

I frown. “Staged? Why? To generate newspaper space for you and boost your profiles? But surely that kind of stuff about you will damage your career.”

“Exactly!” she replies.

“Sorry, I’m not following.”

Beth’s hands move protectively to her stomach. “I want to ruin my career. I’ve had enough of all the hassle. I want out of the public spotlight. I’m expecting twins with my boyfriend. We’ve been together since we were in school. Childhood sweethearts. He hates all this media attention and so do I these days. It all got way out of hand. You see we want a quiet life where we can have a family wedding without hordes of fans and media intruding and ruining everything. We plan to move to the country, totally vanish off the celebrity map and raise our boys in peace. If I’d just announced I was done with stardom then questions would be asked and things would get messy. I know the way these things work. This way I could blame Polly for my ruined career and people would accept I was crushed and that would pretty much be that.”

“But what about the damage to Polly’s reputation? Surely your fans would turn on her and the media would attack her?” I say.

Beth hugs a velvet cushion and tucks her feet beneath her on the sofa. “Polly had tough skin. She wasn’t bothered about that kind of stuff. Over the years she’s upset a lot of people. She said she’d help me escape the media circus and I gratefully accepted.”

Within thirty minutes we are on our way to the next suspect. Everything Beth said in response to our questions rang true and so we have elected to cross her off the suspect list.

Turner Harper Property Rentals has a swanky office in a particularly expensive part of London. Conveniently, Polly’s rather handsome landlord is in his office when we drop by and after a short wait, we are taken in to meet him.

“Tim Turner,” he says, shaking Jake’s hand and then mine. “How can I help you today?”

“We’re investigating the murder of Polly Blythe,” I explain. “You were her landlord at Polly’s Vintage Finds.”

He leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers together. “Ah, yes.”

“We were wondering why she was so behind with her rent when money is clearly not an issue,” Jake chips in.

Tim stops steepling his fingers and points at Jake. “That is a very good question and one we have asked many times. Sadly, there has been no answer. For some reason we shall never know, now that she is no longer with us, Ms. Blythe decided to withhold payment.”

“Were the two of you in a relationship?” I quiz. “Did she stop paying her rent to get back at you perhaps?”

Tim Turner gets to his feet and walks to the window. With his back to us, he eventually replies. “I was not involved with Ms. Blythe, I can assure you. Her reasons for not paying her rent are not in any way connected to me.”

After more questions and the feeling we’re not making any progress, we leave the offices of Turner Harper Rentals none the wiser.

“Where to next?” Jake asks as we climb into his agency 4x4 which he left parked on double yellow lines with a CCIA Investigation sticker on the dashboard to ward off the traffic police.

I clip in my seatbelt and do a quick recap. “So, we’ve done initial enquiries with the starlet and the landlord, how about we track down the wronged sister next?”

A check with agency HQ gets me Hannah Blythe’s home address and soon we’re speeding through the streets of London on our way.

Hannah lives in a modern flat in a less than appealing spot close to an enormous football stadium.

We press the buzzer for flat number thirty and wait. Eventually, a faint female voice echoes out from the intercom.

“Yes?”

“Hannah Blythe?” Jake checks.

There’s a sigh. “Look, if you’re from one of those horrible tabloid newspapers then I’m telling you all the same thing: No comment.”

“We’re not from the press we’re from the police,” I reply quickly before she has the chance to end the connection. “We’re trying to find out what happened to your sister.”

Silence.

“Ms. Blythe, we’re sorry to bother you at this difficult time but if you could spare us just ten minutes we might be able to piece some bits of the puzzle together for this investigation.”

More silence.

Jake chips in. “You wouldn’t want to be facing charges on obstruction of justice, now would you?”

A loud buzzing and then a click fills the air. “Come up,” she says irritably. “The lift’s not working so you’ll have to use the stairs. I’m on the seventh floor.”

Jake and I exchange ‘oh brilliant’ looks and begin to trudge up the stairs.

On the seventh floor, Hannah Blythe is waiting in the doorway to her flat.

Once inside the three of us can barely fit into the flat’s living space. There’s an easy chair, a footstool, a kitchenette and not room for much else. I perch on the footstool, Hannah takes the chair and Jake leans against the wall.

“Were you and Polly on speaking terms?” I ask.

Hannah glares at me. “After she stole my fiancé you mean? Well, what do you think?”

“That there was a falling out?” I venture.

“We weren’t really on speaking terms before the cow pinched my man right from under my nose. Mum and Dad made me invite her to a family dinner a month before the wedding to try and make amends. Mum wanted the family all together again for my big day. Reluctantly I agreed. What an idiot I was. Polly flirted with him all evening. Later that same week, he announces he’s ditching me and seeing Polly. Of course, she soon dumped him after that, it was all about the chase for her and taking something away from me. That’s what she’s always done.”

“Did he try to win you back?” Jake asks Hannah.

She shakes her head, sadness in her eyes. “No, he just moved on. Three girlfriends since then from what I hear. You know, Polly took things from me all our childhood. From toys and food to friends and lovers. She stole everything she could from me.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been awful,” I say.

“You think?” she snarls.

Hmm. There’s definitely no sisterly love in this family – more a case of daggers drawn.

Agency records show that Hannah used to run her own business – a knitting and craft shop. Unfortunately, it recently went out of business and Hannah is now working lunchtime shifts in a local pub. No wonder she’s one bitter woman – life has dealt her some difficult hands of late.

“It’s sounding like your sister could have made lots of enemies over the years,” Jake says to Hannah.

“More than your average person,” she replies, pushing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. “Good luck with finding who killed her. They were probably fighting over who hid the poison in that cake.”

Poison? Cake? Is that public information or has she been told by her family how Polly died? Or did she know how her sister met her end because she was the one who administered the poison?

Jake fires the question before me. “Who is saying that’s how she died?”

Hannah shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “Mum told me and she got told by the police.”

Hmm, feasible but is that the only way she knew about it?

I get to my feet. “We’re sorry for your loss.”

“I’m not,” Hannah huffs in reply. “The world will be a better place without my sister in it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

As we take the steps back down to the car and reach the fifth floor we’re momentarily confused to hear the ping of lift doors opening. A quick check reveals the lift is indeed in operation. Did Hannah lie about the lift just to be awkward? Did she genuinely believe it was out of action? Has it just been fixed? Whatever the answer, we preserve our energy and take the lift down to the entrance.

“The ex-fiancé was wealthy, right?” Jake asks as we navigate to the car park exit.

“According to agency records, yes. He’s some coffee shop entrepreneur.”

As we wait at a red light Jake asks, “Do you think she did it? Did Hannah murder Polly?”

“From our investigation so far, I would definitely take the YouTube starlet off the list of suspects but leave Hannah on it for the moment. I’m not sure about the landlord either, so I guess he stays on the list too - for now.”

“That’s the boss,” a barista called Troy tells us, pointing to where a guy wearing an apron is clearing tables.

“No,” Jake says, “We don’t mean the coffee shop manager, we mean the guy who founded the whole chain.”

Troy nods. “Yes, that’s him.”

“Clearing tables?” Jake frowns.

“Yes, clearing tables. Steve likes to stay grounded he says. Every month he turns up at a branch for an hour, a day or even a week and helps out with most roles. He claims it keeps him in touch with what the customers want, keeps the stores ahead of the trends going about and helps inspire new ideas.”

I shrug. So Steve Simpson is a hands-on kind of boss. Fair enough.

“Can we have a quiet word?” Jake says as Steve finishes wiping off the top of a table.

“Sure,” he replies upon seeing our identification badges.

We follow him through to the staff area at the back of the coffee shop. “I assume this is about Polly,” he checks, running a hand through his crew-cut hair. “Terrible business,” he adds with a shake of the head.

“You and Polly were involved for a while,” I begin.

“Wish we hadn’t been,” he replies with a heartfelt sigh. “The day I met that woman was the day my life went rapidly downhill. Purely from a personal perspective, I mean. The businesses are still going great but what’s the point if you go home to an empty house every night, huh?”

Jake shoots me a meaningful look. Even since Adam was lost in the line of duty I have been living alone, no dating, hiding away. He thinks it is time I started to consider changing my relationship status – mainly by dating him. I’m not convinced I’m ready.

“We heard you’d been dating several women since you and Polly split up,” I say, eager to keep my thoughts on the investigation and not on my personal issues.

Steve shakes his head and looks offended. “Who said that?”

Oh. Did Hannah fib to us then about his dating situation? If so, why? Was she just trying to disparage him or was she trying to send our investigation off down a different path – far away from her?

“I was so stupid. Polly lured me away and I was completely taken in by her. Then once she’d got me away from Hannah, she didn’t want to know. It wasn’t about wanting me. It was about getting me away from her sister. I’ve tried everything to try and win Hannah back but she won’t even speak to me. She’s the love of my life and I ruined everything over her psycho sister.”

“Sorry, mate,” Jake says with a nod of understanding before slapping him on the shoulder. “Women, huh? They mess with our heads – and our hearts.”

“The fact Polly ruined part of your life could give you a strong motive to murder her,” I say, causing both men to look at me as though I don’t truly understand how they feel.

Steve raises both hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “OK, so there was a very brief time an unhinged part of me thought about strangling Polly with one of her stinky vintage scarves but hey, I’m not that guy. I’m a good guy. A hardworking entrepreneur who wanted to settle down and raise a family. I’m also an idiot for messing all of that up. It’s my fault, not Polly’s. I could have turned away from her. I could have said no – but I didn’t and now I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

I think I detected something in Hannah despite her anger towards her ex – a longing perhaps and regret as deep and sincere as Steve’s. “Maybe you shouldn’t quite give up on Hannah yet.”

His eyes light up. “You’ve spoken with her? How is she? Did she mention me?”

“I suspect it’s worth persisting with her,” I advise him with a shrug. “It’s just a hunch. Call it feminine intuition.”

“I’ll ring her right now,” he says eagerly. “That’s if we’re finished?”

I nod. “Yes, we’re finished with the questions, for now.”

“You just made that guy’s day,” Jake says as we climb into his car loaded down with free coffee and cake courtesy of Steve. “He’s obviously pining for Hannah big time.”

“Then he shouldn’t have been led astray by her sister,” I huff as I clip in my seatbelt.

“We’re men, we make mistakes,” he bats back as he slips the car into gear and we attempt to join the line of traffic on the hectic London Street.

“Yes, unfortunately, you do,” I mutter.

CHAPTER FIVE

Back at Polly’s Vintage Finds the crowds have dwindled and there’s an array of posies and bouquets on the pavement outside the store left by some of her adoring fans. The police still have the crime scene tape in place and a young policewoman is chatting to those who are asking if they can leave gifts for Polly or not. She lets us back inside the emporium which is now empty of crime scene investigators. Petra is back and she’s tidying up.

“Hi,” I say, unfortunately causing her to jump and drop the pair of shiny pink shoes she was arranging on a shelf.

“Sorry,” I add as she crouches down to retrieve the shoes from the wood floor.

“It’s OK,” she smiles weakly. “I guess I’m still a bit skittish after what happened.”

“Only to be expected,” I reply. “How are you feeling now? Any better?”

She shakes her head and fretfully fingers the shoes which she’s now clutching to her chest.

“These things take time,” Jake says softly.

“I suppose so. The police have said the store can re-open tomorrow but it doesn’t seem right and anyway I doubt I’d be able to cope with the crowds wanting to see the spot where she...” The sentence is left hanging in the air unfinished.

“Perhaps it might be best for the shop to stay closed for a little while longer,” I suggest.

Petra nods. “Yes, you’re probably right.”

“Do you know what will happen to Polly’s Vintage Finds now that Polly isn’t around?” Jake asks.

“Yes, I do. Polly was a wonderfully creative person but she didn’t have a business mind. I dealt with all the paperwork side of things for her. Plans were put in place in case something happened. All of the items in the store are to be auctioned off in the town hall with the proceeds going towards the creation of a community garden at the local hospital. The premises are leased, so the property people can have the building back. I’ll deal with any outstanding payments and orders before officially closing the business.”

“That sounds very...organised,” I reply.

There’s a knock on the back door of the shop and Petra excuses herself to go and see who it is.

Being nosy I pretend to examine some vintage belts on a rack near the entrance to the back office to see who the caller is.

“What are you doing here?” Petra whispers at the guy now squeezing through the door.

“I thought I’d....” he begins.

“You shouldn’t be here!” she interrupts.

The guy who I would guess to be in his early thirties looks upset and I notice his hands are shaking as he fiddles with his car keys.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” he replies quietly.

“Coming here will just bring it all back up again and neither of us wants that,” she snips. “You need to go...” she shoots a look in my direction and I scoot out of sight. “Now,” she adds. “Olly, please just go home.”

Olly? Isn’t that her brother? I seem to recall her saying earlier that her brother Oliver had helped Polly create the YouTube channel that made her famous.

He stays right where he is despite his sister’s plea. Picking up a scarf from the desk he lifts it to his face and sniffs. “It still smells of her perfume.”

Interesting. How come Oliver is quite so familiar with Polly’s perfume? Were they involved? I think I need to have a quick chat with him. Before Petra can usher him out of the door, I step into the back office and offer a hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Abi. I’m a special agent with the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency and am investigating Polly’s murder. I hear you helped her to create her YouTube channel.”

Oliver shakes my hand. “I’m Oliver, Petra’s brother. Yes, that’s right, I helped her. Many a time I’ve wished I hadn’t though. She changed once she became famous.”

“Unfortunately fame does that to a lot of people. They don’t know how to handle it.”

He nods and chews on his bottom lip. “She dumped me as soon as she started moving in different circles and mixing with celebrities.”

Jake appears in the back office and leans against the door, his arm lightly brushing against my own and causing an unwelcome tingle of chemistry. “So you and Polly were an item then, huh?”

“Yes,” Oliver replies. “I loved her. She broke my heart.”

“Olly, don’t you have somewhere you need to be around now?” Petra presses, pointedly looking at the clock.

“No, I don’t,” he says, much to his sister’s obvious annoyance.

Why is Petra so keen to get her brother out of here? Why does she want to stop him talking to us? Did he kill Polly in a fit of broken-hearted revenge and Petra is terrified he will give himself away while talking to us?

“Where were you early this morning?” Jake jumps in and asks.

“At home,” Olly says, running a hand through his floppy blond hair.

“Can anybody corroborate that?” I check.

He looks momentarily confused then says, “Oh you mean was anyone with me to confirm it? No, I live alone.”

Petra grabs her bag and coat. “Well, I have to be... somewhere,” she says reaching for her brother’s arm and tugging him towards the door. “And I could use a lift, Olly, so we’d best make a move.”

Finally, he takes the hint and follows her to the door.

“Are you done here?” she asks us, jangling the store keys in her hand.

“Yes, we’re done,” I reply, following them out of the back office.

We hop into Jake’s 4X4 and watch as Oliver manoeuvres his Jeep out of a parking slot to whisk his sister off to wherever she claims she needs to be.

“Well that was odd,” Jake says as he pulls out to follow them along the road. “Why was Petra so eager to get her brother out of there and stop him talking to us?”

“Good question,” I say switching on the heated seat function as the leather of the 4x4’s passenger seat strikes cold through the fabric of my jeans. “Perhaps she was trying to protect him.”

“Or herself,” Jake chips in. “Maybe she murdered Polly and was worried her brother might drop her in it.”

“Or he murdered Polly in a fit of revenge for her breaking his heart and Petra was scared he might drop himself in trouble by what he said to us. He has no alibi but he does have a potential motive for wanting Polly dead.”

“Hell has no fury like somebody desperately in love who has been unceremoniously dumped,” he agrees. “I say we do a spot more digging around about Oliver.”

“Me too. I think we need more background information on Petra as well.” After a few moments I add, “Just a thought but earlier Milly from the bakery said Polly had lots of boyfriends and most of those were rather acrimonious relationships. So far we’ve only uncovered one boyfriend – and he’s an ex from a good while ago. So who are these other boyfriends and where are they?”

“Worth a chat with agency HQ to see if they can track any celebrity former boyfriends down from the media records?” Jake suggests.

“I’ll give them a ring now.”

“Where should we head to next? Any plans?” Jake asks as he stops the car at a red traffic light.

“Maybe run through where we’re at and what leads we have?” I suggest.

“I know just the place to do that,” Jake replies, indicating right as the lights change.

“Oh? Where’s that?” I was kind of thinking I’d go home and go through the case notes on my own.

“It’s a surprise.”

Fifteen minutes later we’ve left the urban landscape behind and are heading into a more rural one. In the gathering darkness, I spy some warm and welcoming lights up ahead. Jake pulls into the car park of a pub and suddenly I realise how hungry I am. It’s been one of those rushing round here, there and everywhere kind of days and I’m ready for some food and perhaps a glass of wine.

“This looks nice,” I concede as I unclip my seatbelt.

“It is,” he says, walking round to meet me on the pub side of the car. “Excellent menu.”

For a second he hesitates and looks at me as though expecting me to change my mind and announce I’d rather head home instead.

“Shall we go inside?” I prompt, causing him to nod enthusiastically and stride across the car park.

The pub is busy but we eventually find a table in the conservatory near the children’s indoor play area. It’s pretty noisy with toddlers running around and throwing themselves excitedly down slides and into ball pits. A little girl in a pink dress hurtles past as we sit down, almost tripping me up. She stops to say sorry and my heart melts. Adam and I always wanted to start a family but we never got around to it and now it’s too late. Hastily pushing aside the uncomfortable emotions, I take a seat and pick up the menu. It’s difficult deciding as everything sounds so good but we eventually order and sit back to await our meals.

“So,” Jake starts. “We’re thinking we can definitely cross the YouTube starlet off the list of suspects, right?”

I nod. “And probably the sister and her ex-fiancé. Neither struck me as the kind to be driven to murder no matter what the provocation.”

“Anyone can be driven to it in my opinion,” Jake chips in rather gloomily.

“Shall we leave them on the list then?”

Jake shakes his head. “No, I think your instincts are right on those three. So that leaves us with the landlord Tim Turner, Petra and maybe Oliver.”

“Petra discovered Polly dead in the office but claims to have an alibi that she was next door at the bakery with Milly.”

“What reason would she have to murder her boss though?” Jake asks. “She’d put herself out of a job.”

“True.” My phone pings with a message from agency HQ and I quickly read through the information. “HQ says there are no media records suggesting Polly had numerous famous boyfriends like Milly suggested. Seems she hadn’t dated anybody for a while.”

Jake sips his pint of orange juice and then sets the glass back on the table. “So Milly was lying. Interesting. Trying to deflect attention away from herself and push the blame for Polly’s murder onto the way she behaved.”

“Could be,” I concede. “Perhaps we should pop Milly from the bakery onto that list of possible suspects along with the landlord, Petra and Oliver.”

Just then the same little girl from earlier in the pink dress comes rushing over and beams a smile at me. “Mummy says I can have chocolate ice cream for pudding. It’s my favourite. I’m going to play on the slide until the ice cream arrives.”

“Wow,” I smile, crouching down next to her. “Aren’t you lucky?”

“Yep,” she nods and then races off.

I scoot back into my seat to see Jake giving me a strange and rather thoughtful look.

“What?”

“You’ll make a terrific mum one day.”

A whirl of emotions rush at me like a tidal wave and I need to get away for a moment. Getting up just as the waiter arrives with our food I hastily make my excuses, claiming some fresh air will help stave off the imaginary headache that’s lurking.

Jake looks unconvinced. “Abi, come on, sit down. Your food will go cold otherwise.”

“I won’t be long,” I mumble as I make for the door at the side of the conservatory, hoping it will be unlocked despite it being a cold and dark January evening.

Thankfully the door is unlocked and I sigh with relief as I step out into the bracing air. Wanting to place myself out of sight of Jake and the other diners while I gain some composure I walk round the side of the building a little, following a gravel pathway. Eventually, I find a spot out of the wind and out of sight but it’s also away from the lights so I huddle against the wall in the darkness and let the tears fall. I’m not sure how long I’ve been outside for but my feet feel numb and my food is probably stone-cold as Jake predicted. A high-pitched laugh causes me to lift my gaze towards the edge of the car park which is just the other side of a nearby holly hedge.

A blonde woman is linking arms with a man as they stroll along. There’s something vaguely familiar in the way she holds herself and the swing of her ponytail. They reach a Mercedes and she turns round to lean against it, raising her arms to wrap them around the neck of the man. It’s then, as her face is caught in bright orange light from the car park, that I recognise her. It’s Milly from the bakery.

I wonder who she’s with.

CHAPTER SIX

The man laughs and tilts his face for a kiss from her and I’m momentarily surprised to see the man she’s now embracing is Tim Turner, the landlord at Polly’s Vintage Finds.

Intriguing. So Tim wasn’t involved with Polly but he is dating Milly.

Could that be significant to our murder investigation?

I return to the table in the pub to discover Jake has asked the waiter to keep both our meals warm, bless him. He goes to the bar to ask if the food can be re-delivered and soon the smiling waiter is back and setting our steaming hot plates on the table. We thank him profusely and start to tuck in. I’m grateful that Jake doesn’t ask me if I’m feeling better.

“When I was outside I saw Milly with the landlord,” I explain to Jake between mouthfuls of delicious food. “They were kissing.”

“So he was dating Milly, not Polly.”

“Seems so. Do you think it’s relevant?”

Jake nods. “Could be. Is he her landlord too?”

A quick search of agency records reveals that Milly actually owns the premises her bakery operates from so Tim Turner isn’t her landlord.

“Milly said yesterday that the bakery is doing so well she needs to expand into bigger premises. She’d been looking but struggling to find anywhere suitable. You know where would be perfect, don’t you?” I say, pointing a fork across the table at Jake.

“The premises right next door to her bakery?” he guesses correctly. “Then she wouldn’t have to move. The work could be done next door and when it’s ready she could have minimal disruption to her business by knocking the wall down and hey presto she has her bigger premises without even moving.”

“Bingo!” I lower my voice. “What if Milly killed Polly to get her hands on her store premises? Plus she dates the landlord of said premises just to be sure she gets what she wants – the extra business space.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jake agrees.

The next morning we’re up bright and early and Jake even has a coffee waiting for me when he picks me up in his 4x4. It’s still dark when we arrive at the back door to Milly’s bakery at just before seven.

The door is answered by a woman I seem to recall seeing serving cakes in the bakery when I first visited.

“Can I help you?” she asks cautiously.

We explain who we are and that we’d like a quick chat with her if possible and she ushers us inside. The bakery smells utterly delicious.

“I’m preparing cakes for the day,” the woman who says her name is Louise explains. “Would you mind terribly if I carry on baking while we chat?”

“No problem,” Jake replies and I notice him eyeing up some jam doughnuts fresh from the oven.

“No help this morning?” I say, looking around. “I thought Milly would be here and possibly Petra from next door. Doesn’t she call round every morning before she opens up Polly’s Vintage Finds for a cup of coffee, a cake and a chat?”

“Most mornings she does, yes,” Louise confirms.

I jump on her use of the word ‘most’. “Not every morning then? Was she here the morning Polly was murdered?”

“No, she wasn’t,” Louise replies decisively. “I remember asking Milly if I should make coffee for three and she said no, it would be just the two of us. She said Petra had some urgent business to attend to which I thought was a bit odd.”

“So every other morning she’s here?” I clarify.

“Yes,” Louise says as she starts to ice some cupcakes. “Come to think of it, Milly was behaving a bit strangely that morning too. I remember she kept checking her phone and was getting loads of messages coming through. She was looking rather stressed as well because I asked if she was OK and she insisted she was fine but she clearly wasn’t.”

“And then the police turned up and you heard about Polly being murdered?” Jake checks, edging closer to the tray of doughnuts.

“Yes, that was such a spooky morning. You don’t want to think about things like that happening to somebody you know and right next door too.” She pauses from her cake icing duties to shudder.

“Quite. Look, you’re obviously busy so we don’t want to hold you up too much but there’s one more question,” I say, shooting her a ‘sorry’ face. “Does Petra also help out here at the bakery with paperwork and stuff?”

“Yeah, she does,” Louise nods. “She’s good at filing and issuing invoices and ensuring we get paid for party cakes and the like. Petra deals with all the financial stuff for Polly as well.” She pauses and looks distraught. “Sorry, Petra used to deal with all that stuff for Polly,” she corrects herself.

“That’s very helpful, thanks for your time,” I say as we make our way to the door.

Back in the car, we run through the facts. Milly could have had Petra murder Polly perhaps by blackmailing her about something or with a huge cash incentive. That would explain how Milly knew Petra wouldn’t be calling at the bakery for coffee and cake on the morning Polly was killed. It might also explain why Milly was so on edge and constantly checking her phone. Was she waiting for confirmation the deed was done?

“Milly lied to us and provided Petra with an alibi as they probably pre-agreed between them. Petra might have been willing to do away with Polly because she broke her brother’s heart when she dumped him after Oliver helped create her YouTube channel and launched her celebrity career,” Jake says. “That’s why she tried to get Olly out of the store’s office ASAP when we were there yesterday.”

“Exactly! And Petra dealt with all the financial stuff for Polly so Petra would have had access to the bank account for Polly’s Vintage Finds and could easily have cancelled the monthly payments for the rent without Polly even knowing she was going into arrears.”

“Polly would have had no idea there was an issue until she received her eviction notice,” Jake adds.

“So we’re looking at the landlord, Petra and Milly all being involved in the plot to murder Polly,” I say. “They’re all in on it!”

I call agency HQ to ask if they can run a quick background check on Tim Turner and Petra. They must be quiet because the report pops up on my phone before we even reach the property rental offices.

“Oh wow, look at this!” I exclaim as Jake manoeuvres the 4x4 into a tight parking slot. “Petra is Tim Turner’s niece! They’re family. So he had an insider at Polly’s store that was a relative and she just happened to be out for revenge on Polly for dumping her brother. Petra is also a friend of Milly’s and Milly no doubt promised her a job on more money at the bakery as well as an alibi!”

Jake nods. “All makes sense. Now we just need to prove it!”

Yay!

“Hang on, unless Petra was so driven to avenge her brother’s heartbreak by killing her boss, then all of the cancelling monthly payments, hiding warnings from the rental agents and getting Polly evicted could have taken place without murdering her though,” Jake points out annoyingly.

I take this in for a moment as we park and climb from the car. “Aha!” I say, grabbing Jake’s arm. “Perhaps Polly uncovered the truth, so she had to be silenced in order for the plan to be completed!”

My phone pings again with a message from agency HQ and I scan through the contents of the toxicology report they have just sent me.

“Baking powder!” I shout at Jake who frowns and looks confused.

I show him my phone so he can read the report. “Polly was killed by an overdose of baking powder. What place has a lot of baking powder?”

Jake grins. “A bakery!”

“It says here that the excess of baking powder made an existing heart issue Polly had turn fatal,” I explain.

“I’ll ask agency HQ if they can track where Petra is right now via her mobile,” Jake says, reaching for his own phone.

We’re back in the car and awaiting instructions and thankfully agency HQ is still in efficient mode.

Better yet, they inform us that Petra now appears to be at Milly’s bakery.

Perfect.

We arrive at the back of the bakery and knock at the door.

Milly answers and immediately looks uncomfortable. “Can I help you?” she asks rather stiffly as she holds the door partly closed to try and block access and prevent us from seeing who is inside.

“Sorry to bother you again,” I breeze, trying to reduce her suspicions. “We just have a couple more questions for you.”

She pulls a face. “Can it wait? I’m extremely busy. Got a big cupcake order for a party and the decoration is quite intricate and time-consuming.”

Jake steps forward and starts to push the door further open. “It won’t take long and you can carry on working as we chat.”

There’s a crash and a bang and we both race past Milly to find Petra trying to do a runner through the cake shop. Louise is standing looking appalled at the tray of chocolate eclairs and iced buns that are now splattered all over the floor behind the counter of the bakery.

Jake dives to the right and blocks Petra’s exit. She grabs an empty tray from behind the counter and wields it in front of her like some kind of shield. “Don’t come near me!” she yells.

Jake lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Calm down. There’s no need for you to run.”

Wild-eyed, Petra glances from me to Jake.

“We’re not here for you,” I say quickly, an idea forming in my head as I shoot a ‘go with it’ look at Jake who instantly understands.

“We’re here to arrest Milly,” I say, causing a loud shriek of horror to emanate from the back of the bakery.

Milly appears within a second. “What? No way? I’m not losing everything!” She spins round and points at Petra. “She’s the one you want! She killed Polly!”

Petra lunges at Milly and a cat-fight ensues until Jake wrestles Milly away as she kicks and flings punches in Petra’s direction.

“You cow!” Petra shouts at her. “You said you’d protect me!”

“That was before I discovered what an impossible liability you are,” snaps Milly. “No way am I going to lose the bakery because you can’t keep your mouth shut and you lost your temper and killed her to wreak revenge for her breaking your brother’s heart!”

“She deserved it!” Petra yells back. “I’m glad she’s dead! Getting her evicted wasn’t enough!”

Oh boy, it looks like the case is solved.

Milly, Petra and, apparently, the landlord who was also part of the plan, are all hauled off to the police station as Jake and I congratulate ourselves on another case all wrapped up.

“I’m starving,” Jake says. “Working an investigation involving a bakery and loads of delicious cupcakes just makes me hungry all the time. Want to get something to eat?”

“Sounds good,” I reply.

“How about I cook us some pasta?” he suggests, eyeing me cautiously.

Hmm. How do I feel about my special agent colleague cooking me some Italian food at his flat?

I surprise myself by saying, “That sounds great, thanks. We’ll call at a supermarket and get the food we need. I’ll pay.”

Jake opens his mouth, I presume to protest, but I jump in first. “Those are my terms. I buy the food and you cook it.”

He grins and nods. “Fine. You’ve got a deal.”

THE END

Look for more Abi Anderson short cozy mysteries on Amazon today or discover more about this author and her Amber Reed, Glen Falls and Recipe For Disaster mystery series at www.zannamackenzie.co.uk.

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