Caught Bread-Handed: A Culinary Cozy Mystery Series: Twin Berry Bakery, #10

By Wendy Meadows

A carnival of murder has arrived. But who will have the last laugh?

 

Autumn is upon the cozy town of Clovedale Falls, and twins Rita and Rhonda Knight look forward to a beautiful season of pumpkins, bonfires, crisp evenings, and hot apple cider vinegar. But when a strange circus rolls into town, the peaceful atmosphere quickly turns sour.

 

After a creepy old man turns up dead, Rita and Rhonda are catapulted into a chilling mystery that will land them in a whole heap of danger. Forced to step into a grisly fun house in pursuit of a deranged killer, the pair will have to battle through laughing clowns, strange mirrors, and the bustling crowds under the Big Top.

But the killer isn't working alone. Just when they're about to unearth the truth, a new challenger steps into the ring... and if the sisters aren't careful, they'll meet their demise among the bright lights and colorful attractions of this carnival of death.

 

Can Rita and Rhonda Knight untangle a confusing and deadly mystery that haunts this sinister circus? Or will they succumb to the atmosphere of chaos and fear that lurks around every corner?

 

As a fun and wholesome cozy mystery novel that whisks readers away on an adventure into the delightful wonders of Autumn, Caught Bread-Handed is a memorable who-dun-it that serves up no shortage of head-scratching twists and turns.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Majestic Owl Publishing LLC
• Release date: Dec 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215875032

Wendy Meadows

USA Today bestselling author, Wendy Meadows, is a passionate Cozy Mystery Author whose meticulously crafted stories showcase witty women sleuths and engaging plots. Her primary influences include but are not limited to mystery genre greats Joanne Fluke, Ellery Adams, and James Patterson. To date, she has published dozens of books, which include her popular Sweetfern Harbor Series, Maple Hill Series, and Alaska Cozy Series, to name a few. In a previous life, Wendy worked as a Graphic Designer, earning her Graphic Design Certification at the prestigious New York based Sessions School of Design. With this valuable artistic background, she designs her own book covers. In fact, she began writing fiction soon after designing numerous book covers for other fiction authors. When she isn’t writing about female detectives and their tactful crime solving, you can find Wendy either tending to her hobby farm, playing video games, relaxing on her back porch, or coloring in her growing collection of adult coloring books. She also loves spending quality time with her husband, two sons, two cats, and one adorable Labradoodle. Together, they call “The Granite State” home sweet home. To find out more about Wendy Meadows both personally and creatively, feel free to visit her official website at www.wendymeadows.com

Book preview

chapter one

C ircus? Rita asked as she stared into a wide, happy, excited face that was consumed with laughing clowns, dancing elephants, daring acrobats, and bored employees yelling, Peanuts! Get your peanuts right here!

Billy, I don’t know… she said.

Billy could barely believe his ears. How in the world could a person not love the circus? The smell of hay, peanuts, and cotton candy? The sounds of animals, silly clowns, and cheering crowds? The sights of people swinging through the air over elephants, tigers—not to mention a man being shot out of a cannon? And everything under the old red and white big top tent creating an atmosphere that just tickled the heart pink.

You don't like the circus?

Rita pretended to fiddle with the old-fashioned cash register sitting on the bakery's front wooden counter. Where was Rhonda when she needed help?

I…uh, I may be busy. The Pumpkin Festival isn’t too far away, you know? Lots of work to be done.

Lots of work? Billy glanced around a bakery decorated like a beautiful, cozy, crisp autumn day. Rows of orange, brown, and red wooden shelves holding pies, cupcakes, and cakes complemented the interior. It was clear that Rita and Rhonda had put in a lot of work and some mighty long hours, but as far as Billy could see, all the work was finished. Besides, there wasn't a customer in sight.

Uh, what work?

Oh, lots of work, Rita promised, feeling a bit silly. There she stood, a grown woman who had spent twenty years working as a cop acting like a silly child. Why couldn't she just tell Billy that she hated clowns?

Lots and lots of work.

Billy rubbed his chin and made a confused face. What work? he asked again. Last time Old Billy checked, you and Rhonda done finished preparing for the Pumpkin Festival. If my memory serves me correctly, two nights ago when you and Rhonda came over for supper, you both were mighty happy that you’d finished getting all fancied up for the festival, remember?

I remember. Rita winced, glanced down at the soft orange and brown autumn dress she was wearing, and then simply sighed. A new dress and all Billy talks about is the circus. Love, isn't it grand?

What? Billy asked.

Rita raised her head and looked at her husband-to-be, who was wearing his same old overalls and old baseball cap. Billy's sweet, silly face had a few smudges of tractor oil on it. His large hands were stained with grease.

Oh, nothing, she said and forced a smile to her beautiful face. I say, did you get your tractor fixed? she asked, hoping to change the subject. I see your hands are greasy.

Fixed? Billy asked. Ain't nothing wrong with my tractor. All I did was change the oil in all my field tractors and got them ready for the hayrides. Billy rubbed his chin again. Say, you're trying to change the subject, aren't you? Sure as I'm standing here you are.

Oh, Billy, Rita whimpered, I just don't like the circus, okay? she confessed and pointed her right hand toward the front door. Look, it's raining a soft, early autumn rain. The morning is beautiful, perfect for a hot cup of coffee, a slice of coffee cake, and a cozy book, or maybe even shopping? The last thing I want to do is go sit in a smelly tent and watch a bunch of creepy clowns.

Creepy clowns? Billy exclaimed. Say, clowns are mighty funny, not a bit creepy. Why, I get a hoot when I see a bunch of clowns riding a miniature fire engine and—

Clowns creep me out, okay? Rita informed Billy, allowing her voice to become very, very serious. Billy, I love you, and the thought of becoming your wife soothes my heart, but don't ever, ever expect me to go to some creepy circus.

Instead of arguing, Billy just shrugged his shoulders. Old Billy ain't too fond of giraffes. Those tall-necked things give me the willies. Reckon each person has something that can make their skin crawl. Billy offered Rita a warm smile. My daddy always said it ain't right to make a dog chase a bear when the fox is close by.

Rita let out a sigh of relief. She respected—and admired—the way Billy always put her at ease.

Thanks, Billy.

Aw, no need to thank me. I'll just grab Rhonda—

Rita vehemently shook her head. Rhonda hates clowns worse than I do.

Is that a fact? Billy asked and shrugged his shoulders again. I'll take José.

Good, Rita smiled. Now, why don't we go into the kitchen and have a hot cup of coffee and a slice of coffee cake?

Did Edna bake the coffee cake? Billy asked in a hopeful voice.

I baked the coffee cake, thank you, Mr. Billy Northfield, Rita snapped in an offended voice. And I make a very fine, moist, and delicious coffee cake, thank you very much.

Billy reached up his right hand and rubbed the back of his head. Uh, well, you kinda go overboard with the cinnamon. I mean, don't get me wrong, Billy Northfield likes cinnamon just as much as the next fella. Cinnamon is mighty good for your blood sugar and all, but you really put it on.

I do not! Rita insisted and snapped her arms together. Billy Northfield, if you don't like my coffee cake, then you can go…oh, take a walk in the rain.

Now calm down. Ain't no need to get all fussy, Billy begged. My daddy said marriage has to be built on honesty.

We're not married yet, Rita told Billy through gritted teeth.

Ain't no harm in getting a head start, right? Billy asked, offering Rita a smile. Look, you don't like all the food I cook up, do you?

Well, no, Rita confessed.

And didn't you tell me I put way too much cayenne pepper in my chili?

Well, yes.

Did Old Billy get all fussy? Billy asked.

Well, no. Rita stared at Billy like a kid trapped in a corner. You accepted my criticism with grace.

Billy grinned, folded his arms, and waited.

Oh, Billy Northfield, you're going to drive me insane, Rita fussed and let out a little laugh. Okay, okay, I'll go easy on the cinnamon, deal?

Deal. Billy smiled. But heavy on the cinnamon or not, you do make a mighty mean coffee cake, and I ain't one to pass up a slice and—

He was cut off when Rhonda stormed through the front door, wearing a purple raincoat and a gray baseball cap. The poor woman looked like a molded grape.

Whew, rain is really coming down, Rhonda stated, carrying two paper bags full of baking goods. Oh hi, Billy. Here, take a bag. Rhonda handed Billy a paper bag, set the second paper bag down on the front counter, and began shaking rain off her rain jacket. We might as well close up shop today, sis. I doubt we're going to get much business in this rain.

I'm afraid you're right. Rita sighed.

Rhonda slipped off her rain jacket, tossed it onto a wooden coat rack standing beside the front door, and began slapping a few rain droplets off a light brown dress that had little autumn leaves all over it. The only way Billy could tell Rhonda apart from Rita was by the gray hat the woman was wearing. Rhonda seldom wore hats, and Billy was sure glad the woman was wearing a hat on that rainy morning.

Edna called me while I was at the grocery store, Rhonda explained, glancing at the rain and walking back to the front counter. She's going to extend her stay in North Carolina another week.

What? Rita exclaimed in a panicked voice. But Rhonda, the Pumpkin Festival—

Sis, Rhonda said calmly, motioning around the empty bakery. If we're blessed, all these pies and cakes and cupcakes won't go bad before the festival. Hopefully, the locals will save our backsides and prevent us from taking a hit on all of this stuff you insisted we bake for our first day of our autumn sale. If we're blessed to sell this stuff, then we'll worry about the festival.

We're going to need Edna, Rhonda, Rita insisted, and then added in a voice filled with anxiety, I thought our first day of the autumn sale would be a hit. I was wrong. But that doesn't matter. Even if we're pushed into the red a little, the Pumpkin Festival will shove us back into the green. But we're going to suffer majorly if Edna isn't here to help us do the baking.

Edna promised to be back in time for the festival, Rita. She's enjoying visiting with her old friend, Rhonda tried to calm Rita down. I—

Before Rhonda could finish her sentence, the front door opened. Rhonda turned and saw a creepy old man wearing a silver suit. He walked in, holding a wooden cane. The old man, even though soaked with rain, seemed as fresh as a spring rose.

Uh, welcome to Twin Berry Bakery. Can we help you?

Winforth Darby placed the wooden cane he was holding in his right hand covered with a fancy gray glove down onto the floor. He glanced around the bakery with curious eyes as rain dripped from his thin silver hair.

Yes, this will do, he spoke in a voice that sent chills down Rita’s and Rhonda's spines.

Uh, what will do, sir? Rita asked.

Winforth continued to study the bakery. I will take everything you have on the shelves. Please box them up for me. A van is waiting outside, he told Rita, calmly reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and whipped out a cash wallet. Will, say…five thousand dollars cover the cost?

Five thousand Rhonda's tongue nearly hit the floor.

Rita stared at Winforth with shocked eyes. Who was the creepy little man? Uh, everything is half off, sir. I'll ring up each item and add the discount. I wouldn't want to cheat you—

Such honesty is very rare, Winforth told Rita, speaking in a funeral parlor tone. Do as you wish. I'm a patient man. He put away his wallet and introduced himself in a tone that sent more chills down Rita’s and Rhonda's spines. My name is Winforth Darby. I own the Darby Circus. However, the circus is simply a hobby, if you will. My real business is the stock market. And as you can clearly see, I'm a very wealthy man.

Billy looked at Rita and shrugged his shoulders. Creepy little fella, ain't he?

Winforth locked his eyes on Billy and made a disgusted face. Peasants did not impress him. Have your hired worker begin packaging my items, please.

Oh, Billy doesn't work for us, Mr. Darby, Rita explained. Billy owns his own farm and…oh, never mind. Rhonda, let's start getting Mr. Darby's order ready.

I'm hosting a party tonight for my circus employees, Winforth explained as Rhonda hurried to the front counter. I tend to spoil my hired workers, but I have come to realize that giving my pets a treat makes them perform well.

Oh, we see, Rita told Winforth and offered a forced smile. The creepy old man was obviously a heartless, cold soul, but he was buying up all the baked goods, and that's what mattered. We're not going into the red, she whispered at Rhonda. Let's hurry.

You got it, Rhonda whispered, grabbed Rita's hand, and rushed back into the kitchen to retrieve large boxes to put all the baked goods in, leaving Billy alone with Winforth.

Well, I reckon I'll get on back to my farm, Billy called out in a loud voice and prepared to leave.

Winforth slowly raised his cane at Billy. Do you like the circus? he asked in his funeral parlor tone.

I reckon I do, Billy answered. Old Billy likes the smell of peanuts, hay, the clowns, and elephants, and—

Ridge Marlor, a detestable man, is no longer assigned to my payroll. I'm in need of a minor clown, Winforth explained.

A what? Billy asked in a confused voice.

A minor clown, Winforth answered as icicles fell from his voice. A minor clown is someone who walks around the audience selling balloons. It's an idiot’s job, and currently, I'm in need of a minor clown. Would you be interested?

Billy made a funny face and then chuckled to himself. Mister, you want me, Old Billy, to dress up like a silly old clown and hand out balloons?

My circus is in town for two nights. I'll pay you fair wages, Winforth informed Billy, stiffening his chin and tapping the floor with his cane. I expect only the best from my hired workers. Be at the circus tomorrow morning at eight sharp. You will fill out the proper paperwork, including tax forms, and be issued your uniform.

Billy chuckled to himself again. Me, Billy Northfield, working as a clown. He slapped his right knee. Why, my daddy must be laughing up a storm in heaven right about now. Oh boy, my daddy must be slapping his leg nice and hard and laughing all over the place.

Winforth frowned. I take it you are not interested in my offer?

Mister, I like the circus, but Old Billy a clown? Billy let out a