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Bake Off: Cozy Mystery Short Story
Bake Off: Cozy Mystery Short Story
Bake Off: Cozy Mystery Short Story
Ebook48 pages37 minutes

Bake Off: Cozy Mystery Short Story

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Suzanna has always dreamed of more. For years, she's wanted to move to the big city and open a tearoom with her family cookie recipes and proper Southern sweet tea. 

And finally, it's all in reach—in two weeks, she'll be heading to Savannah to meet with a potential business partner.

There's just one small problem: she's been framed for murder.

No matter how Suzanna pleads her case, the fact is that she and Joel Smith were arch-rivals pretty much from kindergarten onward. Joel pulled her hair, copied her homework, and later, at a school competition, took the cookies she'd baked and passed them off as his own. 

Charming and handsome, Joel was everyone's favorite. And now, he's missing and an anonymous tip has said that Suzanna was seen pushing him into the river. 

If Suzanna can't prove it wasn't her, she'll be locked up and her dreams will be gone forever. But there are no leads other than her…
 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 20, 2017
ISBN9781386774884
Bake Off: Cozy Mystery Short Story

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    Book preview

    Bake Off - S. Y. Robins

    1

    Suzanna emerged from the county jail into the flash and click of cameras and shouted questions. Blinking in the sunlight, disoriented, she clung to her sister’s hand as she was hurried down the steps and across the sidewalk to her mother’s waiting car.

    Don’t talk, her sister intoned. Don’t say anything.

    She wouldn’t have—she couldn’t think of anything at all to say. None of this made sense. But as she turned her head to look at the reporters, Suzanna knew that pictures of her shell-shocked face were going to make it into every local paper tomorrow, and would probably be plastered across the websites by this afternoon also. She had hardly slept in the little jail cell. She was rumpled, afraid, with her makeup half worn off…

    Eliza pushed her into the car almost like a police officer, hand on her head, and Suzanna curled into the seat, turning her face away as reporters crowded around the car. They fell back only reluctantly at her mother’s liberal use of the horn, and the minivan sped off toward the highway.

    Where are we going? Suzanna asked hesitantly.

    Our house. Her father turned to look at her, his eyes full of pity. We went and got some things from your place, Suzanna, but there are reporters just camped outside there. We didn’t think you’d want to be there, especially alone. We made up the guest bedroom for you.

    Suzanna felt her eyes well up with tears at the kindness. None of them were asking her if she’d done it. They didn’t even consider that she might have. As far as her family was concerned, this was all just a terrible mistake and everything would get cleared up soon—and they were here to give her support while her lawyer figured everything out.

    But Suzanna hadn’t trusted her lawyer since the moment she first saw the woman. Overworked and brusque, the woman would only say that the case didn’t look good, and Suzanna was seriously doubting her ability to follow through on promises of tracking down other leads and alibis. The law’s hands were tied, everyone kept telling her. She was the only suspect. They had to do something.

    I didn’t murder Joel, she said finally.

    There was a stricken sort of silence and her mother turned off the radio. Everyone looked at her, even her mother.

    We know, darling, she said quietly, before returning her eyes to the road.

    I just…had to say it. Suzanna felt her eyes well up with tears. Twisting her head, she could already see news vans behind them. This was the biggest news in Droefield since last winter, when someone had tried to drive a tractor over the paper-thin ice of the river. And no one seems to believe me.

    Darling, no one really thinks you did it.

    They do, though! The police put it all out there and then I was arrested and it’s like people don’t even care if they believe it or not, they’re just excited to see the spectacle of it all. And…next week…

    Next week was supposed to have been the

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