Read Online Death by Scones by Jennifer Fischetto - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Fischetto
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his mouth with a napkin. "Ms. Spencer, what are you doing here?"
I surveyed the top of his desk. There were no open files, no reports, nothing to show what he was working on, and I couldn't see what was on his monitor from this position. "I wanted to come down and find out if you have the official report on how Nathan Dearborn died."
He sat back down and kicked the drawer in. "It was just as I assumed. He had an allergic and fatal reaction to peanuts. Dr. Eckhardt confirmed that Mr. Dearborn was highly allergic to them."
A cold sweat clamped around the back of my neck. "That can't be. We don't bake with nuts."
Lester opened a drawer on the other side of his desk and pulled out a file. He skimmed its contents and found the sheet of paper he wanted. He slid his thick finger down the page to the middle section. "It says right here that the medical examiner determined his death as anaphylactic shock. And before you ask, the only items in his stomach were undigested coffee, flour, eggs, cinnamon, sucrose, sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, and peanut oil."
I shook my head vehemently. "No! You are not going to blame this on the bakery."
A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. "The bakery didn't serve a peanut oiled dessert. You did."
My stomach sank. This wasn't happening. We didn't cook anything with peanut oil. We never even ordered it. I was certain.
Lester stood and patted me on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It was a mistake. They happen. But I'd be a lot more careful in the future."
He turned away from me, grabbed his mug off his desk, and walked over to the coffeepot.
"No," I shouted and hurried after him. "I can prove we don't use peanut oil in the bakery. Joe, our baker, does most of the cooking. He can tell you. As well as Grams. And I can show you our invoices and have you speak to our vendors. Everyone will say the same. We don't use any kind of nuts or peanut oil." My voice rose higher with each word until sound barely escaped my mouth.
He stared at me with pity in his eyes. "Ms. Spencer, that wouldn't rule out a mistake happening."
That was ludicrous. "How? Did one of us carry a bottle of peanut oil from home into the bakery for the heck of it?"
He shrugged. "All I know is what the evidence tells me. Nathan Dearborn died of a peanut allergy, and the only contents in his stomach were the ones from your bakery. From the severity of his reaction, there's no way he ate the deadly item elsewhere. He would've been dead before he arrived at Cinnamon Sugar Bakery."
I cringed at his words.
"Now, if you're insisting there's no way this was an accident, I guess we can look into other possibilities."
"Like what?" I asked, but as the words slipped past my lips, I realized what he'd say. If it wasn't an accident, it was on purpose, which would've meant someone murdered Nathan Dearborn. That was insane, but since I didn't want to be pinned for that, I whispered, "Never mind."
Lester nodded and added powdered creamer to his cup.
I turned on my heel and walked out of the police station. Back on my bike, I rode to the bakery and turned over everything Lester had said in my mind. I refused to believe this was the bakery's responsibility, although I couldn't come up with another solution. I was fearful about how this would affect the bakery. It was more than just our reputation though. People would believe I'd accidentally killed a man.
Inside, I flipped on the light switch just above the register and turned to the tables. I re-envisioned what had happened that day, but with all the people in here, there was no way to remember who had grabbed what and when. There had to be a way to find out for sure. I just couldn't accept this.
I stared at the door, hoping some revealing memory would return. But what if there wasn't one? I glanced up and saw the camera. My heart skipped a beat. Grams had one of her friends install a security camera last year after a couple of kids tried to steal money from the register during tourist
I surveyed the top of his desk. There were no open files, no reports, nothing to show what he was working on, and I couldn't see what was on his monitor from this position. "I wanted to come down and find out if you have the official report on how Nathan Dearborn died."
He sat back down and kicked the drawer in. "It was just as I assumed. He had an allergic and fatal reaction to peanuts. Dr. Eckhardt confirmed that Mr. Dearborn was highly allergic to them."
A cold sweat clamped around the back of my neck. "That can't be. We don't bake with nuts."
Lester opened a drawer on the other side of his desk and pulled out a file. He skimmed its contents and found the sheet of paper he wanted. He slid his thick finger down the page to the middle section. "It says right here that the medical examiner determined his death as anaphylactic shock. And before you ask, the only items in his stomach were undigested coffee, flour, eggs, cinnamon, sucrose, sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, and peanut oil."
I shook my head vehemently. "No! You are not going to blame this on the bakery."
A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. "The bakery didn't serve a peanut oiled dessert. You did."
My stomach sank. This wasn't happening. We didn't cook anything with peanut oil. We never even ordered it. I was certain.
Lester stood and patted me on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It was a mistake. They happen. But I'd be a lot more careful in the future."
He turned away from me, grabbed his mug off his desk, and walked over to the coffeepot.
"No," I shouted and hurried after him. "I can prove we don't use peanut oil in the bakery. Joe, our baker, does most of the cooking. He can tell you. As well as Grams. And I can show you our invoices and have you speak to our vendors. Everyone will say the same. We don't use any kind of nuts or peanut oil." My voice rose higher with each word until sound barely escaped my mouth.
He stared at me with pity in his eyes. "Ms. Spencer, that wouldn't rule out a mistake happening."
That was ludicrous. "How? Did one of us carry a bottle of peanut oil from home into the bakery for the heck of it?"
He shrugged. "All I know is what the evidence tells me. Nathan Dearborn died of a peanut allergy, and the only contents in his stomach were the ones from your bakery. From the severity of his reaction, there's no way he ate the deadly item elsewhere. He would've been dead before he arrived at Cinnamon Sugar Bakery."
I cringed at his words.
"Now, if you're insisting there's no way this was an accident, I guess we can look into other possibilities."
"Like what?" I asked, but as the words slipped past my lips, I realized what he'd say. If it wasn't an accident, it was on purpose, which would've meant someone murdered Nathan Dearborn. That was insane, but since I didn't want to be pinned for that, I whispered, "Never mind."
Lester nodded and added powdered creamer to his cup.
I turned on my heel and walked out of the police station. Back on my bike, I rode to the bakery and turned over everything Lester had said in my mind. I refused to believe this was the bakery's responsibility, although I couldn't come up with another solution. I was fearful about how this would affect the bakery. It was more than just our reputation though. People would believe I'd accidentally killed a man.
Inside, I flipped on the light switch just above the register and turned to the tables. I re-envisioned what had happened that day, but with all the people in here, there was no way to remember who had grabbed what and when. There had to be a way to find out for sure. I just couldn't accept this.
I stared at the door, hoping some revealing memory would return. But what if there wasn't one? I glanced up and saw the camera. My heart skipped a beat. Grams had one of her friends install a security camera last year after a couple of kids tried to steal money from the register during tourist
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