Bennett cast a longing glance at the cake and then shook his head. “Can’t do it, man. I got some bad news when I was at the doc’s office last week. Shoot, I felt like bitin’ somebody on my way out of there.”
Concerned, James closed the break room door and motioned at the table. “Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothin’ major, my man. I don’t have cancer or anythin’ that should be puttin’ that long look on your face.” Bennett pointed at the cake. “I just gotta keep an eye on my sugars. Seems like bein’ over forty comes with a whole mess of possible ails, and it would appear as though I’ve got one of them.”
“Which one?”
Bennett formed quotation marks with the first two fingers of his hands. “Mature onset diabetes.” He dropped his hands. “But I don’t need any pills or anything yet. I can control this thing by gettin’ back into the gym and watchin’ what I eat. And truth be told, James, I’ve only been watchin ’ the food as it leaves my plate and is shoveled into my mouth. Ever since we got back from the barbecue contest this summer, I’ve been indulgin’ way too much.”
Relieved to hear that his friend wasn’t seriously ill, James scooped some grounds into the coffee machine and pushed the brew button. “I know what you mean. I tried on the suit I’m planning to wear to my father’s wedding, and I look like a big, gray whale. I’d better hope there’s no fog out that night or someone might harpoon me.”
Bennett threw his head back and laughed. “My friend, you always know how to cheer me up.” He shifted to one hip and removed his wallet from his back pocket. “Take this,” he said, handing James a business card. “She’s my nutritionist. I’m meetin’ with her once a week until I get on track. My doc recommended her, and man, I did not want to go see her one bit, but she’s just as nice as she can be.”
“Ruth Wilkins, huh?” James put down the card and poured coffees for them both. “And what does she advise you to do?”
“Keep a journal of everythin’ I’m eatin’ and what kind of exercise I’m doin’.” Bennett took a sip of coffee. “See? I’m gonna have to write this down now.”
James grimaced. “Sounds like a hassle.”
“Maybe.” Bennett shrugged. “But I’ve only got one body. I gotta start takin’ care of it.”
“Well, I’m good at making lists, so I guess keeping a food log isn’t too different. Though my to-do list is getting as long as Santa’s these days.”
Bennett took his coffee cup to the sink and began to rinse it out. “What’s on it?”
James ticked the items off on his fingers. “Find an amazing honeymoon trip for Milla and my father, buy a house, locate Glowstar-our Christmas elf who’s gone missing-and make an appointment with your nutritionist so I can fit into my suit.”
Chuckling, Bennett began digging around in his mailbag. “Oh, you’ve got one more thing to put on that list, my friend.”
“That’s true,” James answered, surprised that Bennett was aware that the most important item hadn’t been mentioned aloud. “I want to take Lucy out for a truly memorable date. I want to prove to her that I never stopped caring about her, even though I was dating Murphy over the summer.”
“Murphy is the other item I was going to add to your list,” Bennett grunted unhappily. “Murphy Alistair. Editor of the Shenandoah Star Ledger and soon-to-be the destroyer of life as we know it.” He unfolded a glossy postcard and held it out to James with a flourish. “Read it and weep, my friend. Then go to your calendar and circle January first, because that’s the day your ex-girlfriend’s fictional account about our lives hits the shelves. Put that on your list so you can flee town with the rest of us.”
James paled. “It wasn’t supposed to be released until February.” He unfolded the postcard and gazed at the colorful graphics with horror. “Oh, Lord,” he muttered miserably.
“Yessir. Unhappy New Year to us all. At least you’ve got that chocolate cake to comfort you.” Bennett clapped him on the back and then slipped on his coat. “You’d better take Lucy out on that date before Murphy’s book comes out. After all, now that she carries a service revolver and a nightstick, I’d be mighty nervous about bein’ near her when she gets her hands on a copy of that novel.” Bennett zipped his coat. “Shoot, we may just have another murder on our hands.”
“Don’t even joke about that!” James called out as Bennett disappeared through the break room door. Returning his attention to the postcard, his eyes soaked in the image of Murphy’s book cover and he shook his head in disgust. It showed the interior of a bakery, with shelf after shelf overflowing with plump croissants, golden loaves of bread, and delectable pies, tarts, and cakes. Splayed out on the black and white tiled floor was the body of a man wearing a varsity letter jacket. The man was facedown and his features were disguised by locks of curly golden hair, but a pool of blood had spread out beneath his head and shoulders and had formed a small stream that ran to the very edge of the postcard.
“Oh, brother,” James mumbled crossly as his eyes traveled away from the dead man to the pair of women standing above him. They both wore tight, starched, white aprons bearing the word Cravings in crimson cursive across the chest and were clutching one another in fear. One of the women was older and James assumed that she was meant to represent Megan Flowers, the owner of the Sweet Tooth, the bakery beloved by all in Quincy’s Gap. The younger woman with the inflated bosom and shapely legs was undoubtedly meant to be Megan’s teenage daughter, Amelia.
“I don’t think Megan’s going to like that image of Amelia,” James said aloud. “And they’re wearing an awful lot of makeup for two people who got up at three a.m. and spent the morning covered in flour and sugar.”
Flipping over the card in annoyance, James read the blurb on the back.
Small towns are full of secrets, and Quimby’s Pass is no exception. It seems that the isolated highlands of Virginia are not as bucolic as its residents believe, and when a former high school football hero is fatally poisoned, neighbor will turn against neighbor in search of justice. When the authorities are stumped by the killer’s cold trail, the true heroes of The Body in the Bakery arise. These average citizens-a librarian, a teacher, a mailman, a secretary, and a dog groomer-join together in an attempt to solve the murder. Can they stop the ruthless killer in time, or will another corpse show up somewhere on Main Street? Based on an astonishing true story.
Publishers Weekly calls The Body in the Bakery “the first must-read book of the New Year,” and Kirkus hails it as “a fast-paced thriller that unveils the chilly truth not only about Quimby’s Pass, but about the deceptions lurking beneath the surface in small towns throughout America. A fantastic read.”
The Body in the Bakery by Murphy Alistair. Pre-order your copy today!
James reread the blurb and then examined the graphic on the front one more time before tossing the postcard in the garbage.
He stomped into his office and gathered his briefcase and coat. He bid a terse farewell to the twins and paused in the lobby to slip into his wool coat. As he was fastening the buttons, Bennett reappeared from inside the library, brandishing two audio books.
“Uh-oh. You’re wearin’ a scowl deep as a dried river bed,” Bennett remarked.
“You can’t be surprised,” James replied curtly, jerking his gloves onto his fingers. “Where did you get that postcard anyway?”