Murder At The Bake Off (Celebrity Mysteries 3) Read Free Page B

Cherry.
    I don’t feel like going home to my empty farmhouse. As I’m passing neighbouring Wellbeck, Jack’s brother’s farm, I decide to call in and tell Frazer and Emma what’s going on and where Jack is. Just as I pull into the yard in the dusky afternoon light, Emma is walking across to the farmhouse from one of the barns. Waving and smiling, she waits for me to park up and then opens the door of the car for me.
    “Brilliant timing. I was just about to take a break and make a drink. Come in and join me,” she says. “Let me show you what I’ve done with your dress. It’s starting to look amazing.”
    Emma’s lovely. She juggles family life with their three young children and farm work all with ease. She bakes the most amazing cakes, too. Oh, and she’s also pretty. Cropped blonde hair frames her delicate features, and today she’s dressed in leggings, boots and what looks like one of her husband’s practical waterproof jackets. She’s the kind of person you’d probably want to hate for being too perfect—if she wasn’t so friendly, down-to-earth and welcoming.
    She spots the expression on my face, and her smile turns to a concerned frown. “What’s wrong?”
    I shake my head as she ushers me inside the kitchen of Wellbeck farm, trying to decide which bit of bad news to impart first.
    “Sit,” she says, easing me into a chair at the huge pine table covered with scuffs, felt-tip pen marks and assorted crumbs.
    The door opens, and Frazer appears. “Hey, Lizzie.”
    “Something’s wrong,” Emma tells him as she pushes a plate with a generous slice of lemon meringue pie on it towards me.
    “I’m not even sure if I should be telling you this,” I start. “Because I don’t think they’ve made an official press statement yet, but Cherry Bakewell is dead.”
    Emma’s hand flies to her mouth. “Oh, how dreadful! She was in town to judge the baking competition, wasn’t she?”
    Frazer kicks off his muddy Wellington boots and takes a seat at the table. “What happened?”
    “We found her on the floor of her hotel suite at the Roseby,” I start to explain, sniffing back the tears. “The police must think she died in suspicious circumstances. Somebody from room service saw Jack kneeling on the floor next to Cherry and jumped to the wrong conclusion, I guess.”
    Emma moves to my side, slipping an arm around my shoulders. “Where’s Jack now?”
    I swallow and the tears force their way out, running down my cheeks in torrents. “The police took him away!”
    Frazer runs a hand through his hair , which is the exact same shade of dark blond as Jack ’ s . “He’s been taken in for questioning? They think he might be involved in all of this?”
    I nod. 
    He mutters a few swear words under his breath and then adds, “Why does my baby brother always find trouble? I thought when he quit working for the CCIA and settled down here that he’d put all of that stuff behind him, but no…”
    Emma rests a hand on her husband’s arm.  “Don’t worry, Jack’s more than capable of looking after himself. He’ll be home safe and sound tonight, with everything sorted.”
    “He’d better be,” I say.
    “How come they didn’t take you in as well?” Emma asks.
    “Because I happened to be behind the door when the room service person showed up, so they only saw Jack and Cherry, not me, and then Jack insisted I didn’t admit I was there too.”
    Frazer lifts a hand in understanding. “I know, Lizzie. I know what he’s like. Coming over all chivalrous and heroic.”
    “How come you never do things like that?” Emma teases him, obviously trying to lighten the mood. Emma is always playfully having little digs at her husband, claiming he doesn’t know how to be romantic or sweep a woman off her feet.
    “Why? Do I need to?” he counters. “Have you been lurking at any murder scenes lately?”
    Emma ignores him, piles meringue onto a spoon and pops it into her mouth. Under normal circumstances I’d