Tonya’s gaze hardened, but she otherwise didn’t react. I sucked on my lips. Wow. Quite the dig—and while their mother’s body wasn’t even cold yet. Clearly there was some animosity between the girls, but was this just normal sister stuff?
I had no frame of reference, as I’d grown up in the orphanage. I glanced to Peter at my right—he was an only child, so I doubted he’d be of much help either. Maybe I’d ask Heidi later. She had a big family, plus about a hundred cousins who seemed like sisters to her.
I flashed my eyes at Peter, and he gave me a slight shake of the head back. Quite the pair, these two. He turned back to the twins.
“Can you walk me through where you were when your mother collapsed?”
Tonya blew out a shaky breath and dragged a hand down the back of her neck. She wore her hair short, like her mother’s, but any resemblance to Polly or Elin ended there.
While the other two were both tall, statuesque, and fair, Tonya was short, round, and dark-haired. While she didn’t have the elegance of her lithe mom and sister, she was curvy and cute. Her dark hair was in finger waves, and she wore dark purple lipstick that accentuated her coloring. Her floral, frilly dress and apron showed off her curves.
“I was in the garden, out back.” She half turned and gestured with her thumb at the lush and orderly royal garden behind the tent. I’d seen a few bakers rooting around out there. “I was gathering herbs—rosemary and thyme—for our bread.” She gulped. “It’s bread day for the competition.” Her gaze grew faraway. “That’s when I heard the screams.”
Daisy whined. True.
Elin, her eyes glazed with tears, sniffled. “And I was in the pantry, gathering ingredients.” She looked toward the opposite end of the tent with the racks of jars, baskets of eggs, and bunches of fresh fruits and vegetables.
I’d spotted a bunch of bakers over there during the competition, too. Surely there’d be many witnesses who could corroborate where the sisters were. Besides, Daisy whined and confirmed she was telling the truth.
Tonya nodded. “Our mother stayed behind to work with the bread starter.”
Peter gave a solemn nod. “Do you remember your mother eating or drinking anything else this morning? Anything anyone else might have been able to tamper with?”
Tonya shook her head. “No. I was with Mom all morning.”
Her tall sister cut in. “Tonya still lives with Mom.” She tossed her long blond locks over her shoulder and looked smug. “I live with my fiancé.”
Tonya shot her a dark look—was that jealousy in that glare? Tonya huffed and addressed Peter again. “Mom was really nervous this morning. She’s been nervous every morning of the competition. She said she couldn’t eat or drink.” She looked down. “She said she might vomit if she did.”
There was a moment of quiet, and I couldn’t help but think of the foam pouring from the woman’s mouth. I shuddered.
After Daisy again confirmed that Tonya had told the truth, Peter leaned close to me, his voice low. “If Polly didn’t have anything else to eat or drink this morning, it’s almost certain to be the tea that was poisoned.”
I nodded my agreement. “Which means someone in this tent killed her.”
The crease between Peter’s brows deepened. “The twins have told the truth so far, and if they were nowhere near their mother or the tea, I don’t see how they could have killed her.”
“Besides, this is a baking competition. I don’t see what motive they’d have for killing off their head baker.” I shrugged. “And despite whatever rivalry they clearly have with each other, Daisy seems to think the girls are experiencing real grief over losing their mom.”
Peter half turned and glanced around the tent. “We’ll have to question the servant who brought the tea around, of course, but to me it seems much more likely that we’re looking at a rival baker as our prime suspect.”
I nodded and raised a brow. “The plot thickens… or should I say, the dough?”
Peter fought a grin and gave a little shake of his head. Yeah, not my best work, but then again, it was the middle of the day and I hadn’t slept. We turned back to the sisters, and Peter addressed them both.
“Do you know of anyone in this tent who might have wanted to harm your mother?”
Tonya blew out a heavy breath, and Elin snorted. She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and pointed a trembling hand at the bald guy with small, rectangular glasses who’d snapped at everyone earlier. She sniffled, then devolved into tears, so her sister took over.
“That’s Frank Hemlock and his team.” Tonya raised her dark brows significantly. “They’re probably our biggest competition. He’s made it clear he’s not playing around.”
I leaned into one hip. “Your biggest competition? As in, you expected to win this thing?”
Tonya’s face fell, and she hugged her arms around herself. “We did.” She looked down at her feet. “Probably don’t have a chance now that Mom’s gone.”
Peter and I exchanged looks. Taking out your biggest competition for a sweet royal baking gig made for pretty good motive. We’d be talking to this Frank Hemlock dude soon.
Elin sniffled, her face red and wet. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then reached over and tugged a flowery kerchief out of Tonya’s pocket.
“Hey!” The shorter sister swiped at it, but Elin held it over her head. “That’s for my hair.”
Elin rolled her eyes and said in her stuffed-up voice, “Well, I need it.” She put it to her face and blew her nose with a dainty squeak.
Tonya snapped her mouth shut, but a dark look clouded her face. My gaze darted between the sisters. Wow. If Elin wasn’t careful, she might be the next casualty. I frowned—not that I thought Tonya had murdered their mother. Again—I couldn’t see any motive, and she hadn’t been
