Murder Gone A-Rye (A Baker's Treat Mystery) Read Free Page B

the temperature in the building sizzled. I took two big steps back. “So which float is the Elks club’s?” I congratulated myself for being nonchalant in the face of all his glory.
    He reached over and put his hands on my forearms, turning me to the right. “It’s the one with the giant bust of Homer Everett.” He pointed unnecessarily and leaned forward far enough that I was enveloped in the heat from his body. “You can’t see it with your eyes closed.” His words were whispered near my ear.
    I popped my eyes open and glanced around to see if anyone else had caught me nearly leaning back into him. Grandma Ruth, Tim, and Tasha were in a heated discussion about the merits of one brand of tablet over the next. No one else in the building seemed to notice how close we stood, so I pretended my skin didn’t have prickles on it.
    “Not the worst I’ve ever seen.”
    “What do you mean ‘not the worst’? I have it on the best authority that ours is this year’s winning float.”
    I turned to find him smirking. “Whose authority?” I placed my hands on my hips and widened my stance. I could feel my chin rising. “The floats aren’t even finished yet.” I waved my right hand about as if the state of incompleteness in the room wasn’t obvious.
    “That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” He leaned in to kiss me and I stopped him with a hand to his chest.
    “I would never kiss a man who keeps secrets.”
    “Then it’s a good thing we’re not kissing.” He laughed, straightened, and stuck his hands in the pockets of his perfect-fitting jeans as he walked away.
    “Lawyers,” I muttered. “Don’t ever trust them.”
    “Don’t trust who?” Grandma Ruth was back in her scooter of death.
    “Lawyers.” I tried real hard not to turn around and stare as Brad walked away. Instead I concentrated on Grandma’s scooter with the tall red triangle flag waving in the air. My father had attached it to the scooter when Grandma’s driver’s license was first taken away. He thought it would give her some measure of safety. I, personally, thought that he should have installed wide bumpers all around, but he’d fallen ill and passed away before he could do it. The thought crossed my mind that he may have actually purchased bumpers. If that was the case they would be out in our old carriage house somewhere. I should go look.
    “Oh, come now. Brad gave you good advice last month in that murder case you solved.”
    “You think his telling me to stop investigating was good advice? You’re the one who pushed me into it in the first place.”
    Grandma looked away. “Oh, that reminds me. I think I’ve found another mystery we can solve.”
    “Grandma, I run a bakery. I don’t solve mysteries.”
    “But you’re so good at it. What about last month? I know you were successful figuring that out.”
    “I also promised everyone I’d give up crime solving, remember?”
    “No worries.” Grandma put her scooter in gear and pushed her fedora down hard over her short orange hair. “This is a mystery right now, not a crime. No one said you couldn’t solve mysteries.”
    “Grandma—”
    “Bill and I will be over for dinner tonight to discuss the mystery. See you at eight P.M .” Grandma dodged through the float makers before I could comment.
    I glanced at Brad. He waved at me from his professional-looking float. Seriously, it looked like it could have been a corporate float from the Rose Parade. I scowled. Maybe he stole it from the Rose Parade. I didn’t want to think about how impractical it would be to get a float from Pasadena to Oiltop, Kansas. Maybe he brought in a float designer. Either way, he made my float look like a junior high project.
    I blew out a long breath and knocked my frizzy bangs out of my eyes. There wasn’t enough time to fix it. I would have to hope that the cookies would score me points.
    Not that I expected to win. This was my first parade, but at the time I signed up I’d