As we left him and his team and headed toward the pantry shelves, I leaned close to Peter. “I’m surprised that dude wasn’t the one who got poisoned. So arrogant!”
Peter shook his head. “No kidding. Too bad being churlish isn’t a crime.”
I did a double take. “Churlish? Really?” I chuckled. “Nice word.”
Peter’s cheeks flushed pink, and he nudged me. “I’m dating a former lawyer now. I’ve got to step up my game.”
I grinned up at him. “Is that what that word-a-day calendar you got is all about?”
He grinned and shrugged.
I chuckled. Cute.
Daisy, who trotted ahead, glanced back at us and huffed. Get a grip, you two—I can smell the hormones from here.
SPILLING THE TEA
We passed several baking stations, fires still blazing in the ovens below the counters and a pleasant yeasty smell filling the chilly fall air. The eyes of the twenty or so other contestants followed us as we approached the woman the twins had pointed out to us.
“Mimi Moulin?”
The older lady looked up and adjusted her polka dot cat glasses.
“That’s me.”
Her team, a young man and woman, edged closer to her. I got the feeling they were protective of the older baker. Could one of them have murdered Polly to get revenge for stealing Mimi’s sourdough bread starter?
“I’m Officer Peter Flint, this is my partner, Daisy—I warn you, she can smell lies, so please be honest with us. And this is our consultant, Ms. Hartgrave.”
I gave a little wave hello, but the three bakers just huddled closer together and glared back. Friendly.
The tiny old lady with the lavender fauxhawk narrowed her dark eyes at him. “And you want to know if I murdered Polly, right?”
The young lady beside her played with her long ponytail and huffed. “Typical.”
I raised a brow. “Typical?”
She stared me down. “Yeah. Typical that you’d blame the only team in this whole competition—which is supposed to be promoting shifter rights by the way—that’s actually made up of shifters.”
Peter and I exchanged looks. I was tempted to tell them they were in good company, but while I’d told Peter the truth—that before my curse I’d been able to shift into owl form—the rest of the police department was still in the dark. I glanced hastily around—cops swarmed around us, interviewing suspects and witnesses and collecting evidence. I decided to keep quiet about my identity and turned back to the bakers, clearing my throat.
“We’re actually questioning you because Polly’s daughters said you had a history with their mom?”
Mimi gave a little sniff and pressed her lips tight together. She shifted on her feet and looked off for a long moment before turning back to Peter and me. There was a fierceness in her dark eyes as she spoke. “I worked my way up from having a little delivery service to a mobile baking cart, to finally owning my own bakery.”
Suddenly, the sands shifted, and I blinked at her. “Oh! You’re Mimi—as in Mimi’s Bakery.”
The three bakers flashed their eyes at me, as if to say, duh. I turned to Peter and filled him in. “It’s famous in the Darkmoon—everyone says it's the best bakery on the island.” During my darker days, I hadn’t been able to afford even their low prices, and the place had slipped off my radar, so I’d yet to try it.
Mimi, her voice low and slightly gravelly, leveled me with a hard look. “May I go on?”
“Oh. Yep. Sorry.” The little wrinkled old lady had an air of authority about her that made me want to step into line.
“Polly worked for me when she was a teenager, just a year or two after I’d managed to open my current location.”
The young man, who’d dyed his hair neon green, rubbed Mimi’s shoulder. Without looking, she reached an age-spotted hand back and squeezed his. With her eyes downcast, she sighed. “I liked Polly, at first. She was bright and hardworking.” Her expression soured. “Right up until she quit out of the blue and took my secret sourdough starter with her, along with some family recipes.”
The young woman set her jaw and muttered a few curses under her breath. Daisy’s tail wagged. Truth.
Which could mean that they just believed Polly had stolen the recipe.
The young guy with the green hair shot me a sassy look. “Polly opened up her own bakery—right on Main Street. Which Mimi of course couldn’t do—no one would rent to a shifter there. So now Polly charges—” He rolled his eyes. “Sorry—charged three times as much as Mimi, using her stolen recipes, and gets all these accolades. But we’re not taken seriously because we’re in the Darkmoon and are shifters.”
The young woman tossed her ponytail. “Yeah. We can’t even get into the baker’s guild.”
I shifted on my feet as anger burned in my chest. Sounded about right. The discrimination against shifters and Darkmoonies just went on and on.
Mimi lifted her chin. “I want to win—not only for myself, but for other shifters, too.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. I liked this woman, and her team clearly loved her. I wanted them to win. I sure hoped we didn’t have to arrest them for murder.
Peter nodded. “It’s impressive, what you’ve accomplished, and I’m sorry for the challenges you’ve faced. You must see though, that this gives you motive for murder—”
The young guy with the green hair gasped and lurched forward. “Mimi didn’t murder anyone!”
The young woman stepped in front of the old lady, as if to prevent Peter from arresting her.
Mimi just rolled her eyes. “Alright, kids, stand down.” She turned to Peter as her team settled back, though they kept their wary eyes glued to my cop boyfriend. “I understand. Ask your questions.”
“Did you have anything to do with Polly’s
