Murder and the Masterpiece

  Murder and the Masterpiece

  Bakers and Bulldog Mysteries

  Rosie Sams

  SweetBookHub.com

  The Murder and the Masterpiece

  ©Copyright 2019 Rosie Sams

  All Rights Reserved

  Rosie Sams

  License Notes

  This Book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold. Your continued respect for author's rights is appreciated.

  This story is a work of fiction; any resemblance to people is purely coincidence. All places, names, events, businesses, etc. are used in a fictional manner. All characters are from the imagination of the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Strawberries and Sweet Lies Preview

  Also by Rosie Sams

  Introduction

  Bakers and Bulldogs Cozy Mysteries

  Dear reader,

  It is such an honor to share this book with you. I have always been a fan of three things, my French bulldog, baking, and sweet cozy mysteries.

  What could be better than curling up with a dog on your lap, with a nice cake at your side, and with a cozy mystery to read?

  I have recently joined a team of sweet authors at SweetBookHub.com

  Our aim is to entertain you with sweet books that you will love to read.

  I am so pleased that they have given me the chance to share my books with you. Join our Exclusive Reader Club to find out more, it’s free to join.

  This is my Third book, you can grab the first one Strawberries and Sweet Lies here.

  Love and kisses,

  Rosie Sams

  Chapter One

  The scent of freshly baked banana bread greeted Melody Marshall before she stepped into her bakery. It was one of her favorite aromas. Though, to be fair, the smell of freshly baked anything usually made her olfactory cells perform a happy dance. With a slight smile, she breezed through the backdoor with her ever-present sidekick, Smudge on her heels.

  “You smell that, Smudge? Heavenly, isn’t it?”

  The blue and white French bulldog yipped her approval and did a little spin on the spot.

  Melody laughed. “You’re not getting any just yet,” she said as she escorted Smudge to her office before heading to the kitchen. Rounding the corner, her smile broadened at the sight of her two employees, Kerry and Leslie.

  Kerry was busy flattening dough with a wooden rolling pin. She rolled so vigorously that each time she leaned forward, stands of vibrant auburn hair slipped from her hairnet. Kerry and her unruly hair was a typical sight.

  Leslie’s tiny frame stood off to the side of the massive stainless-steel oven, inspecting the cause of the delicious scent that filled the shop. The banana bread was nice and golden, and Leslie smiled her satisfaction as she adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses.

  “Ladies, I see you got an early start.”

  Two heads with faces wearing sunny smiles turned in her direction.

  “Melody, good morning,” Leslie greeted.

  “Hiya, boss, how’s it going?” Kerry offered before slamming the rolling pin back onto the slab of dough.

  Melody swallowed a laugh and resisted the urge to comment about Kerry bludgeoning the innocent dough to death.

  “Not bad. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” She grabbed a hairnet and covered her auburn curls before moving to the sink to wash her hands.

  “It’s going to be an even more beautiful night,” Leslie stated dreamily.

  There was a smile on her face that Melody knew all too well. It was the same one she knew she had when she thought about a particularly tall, handsome lawman. In fact, she could feel that smile pushing to the surface as she thought about the town’s sheriff, Alvin Hennessy.

  Kerry’s loud snort interrupted Melody’s wandering thoughts. “Leslie, stop drooling over a man you’ve never even met. Byron Elmsford wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

  Leslie directed a seething glare across the counter. If looks could kill, Kerry would be a goner. “As if I didn’t practically have to mop up your drool when news hit that he was coming to Port Warren.”

  Kerry opened her mouth to retort, but let out a sigh instead. With a sheepish smile, she shrugged. “Touché.”

  Looking from Kerry to Leslie, Melody shook her head. “Not you guys, too.” She sighed. “Everyone has been making a big deal of him coming to town as if it were the second coming. I mean, I’m excited about the art, but it isn’t that serious.”

  Both Leslie and Kerry gave her disapproving looks as if she’d blasphemed.

  Rolling her eyes, Melody began gathering ingredients from the refrigerator. The entire town was buzzing with news of Byron Elmsford. The famous artist was to grace Port Warren with his presence for an art show. It seemed that Melody was the only one skeptical about the man’s visit. What was a New York artist doing putting on a show in a town that wasn’t even visible on a map? Byron was a big enough name to garner the attention of paparazzi, blogs and gossip rags.

  She’d seen photos of him posing with the President for goodness sake! And all of a sudden, he wanted to come to Port Warren? Melody was a fan of great art, and Byron was talented. She liked some of his work, was looking forward to seeing it up close, but she still found his sudden visit suspicious. Nevertheless, she was the one catering for the big event that would take place later that evening. At the very least, Byron Elmsford had brought her great business.

  “I can’t believe you, Melody,” Kerry said, getting back to work. “That man is gorgeous and oh so charming.”

  “And you’d know that he’s oh so charming because you’ve met him?” Melody smirked. “For all you know he could be a tyrant or a diva.”

  “Men can be divas?” Leslie’s brows shot up, making Melody snicker.

  Kerry frowned. “Of course, Byron is charming. He’s also sweet and charitable. The internet says so.”

  “And the internet has never been wrong,” Melody drawled. She’d never met a celebrity, but she knew enough about the entertainment industry to know that there was such a thing as a PR team. They knew how to make celebs look good even if they were rotten to the bone. She’d never take it as gospel that Byron was such a virtuous character until she met him and saw for herself.

  “Oh, stop being such a Debbie Downer, Melody. Let’s just bask in the excitement of a huge celebrity coming to our town.”

  “And we’re catering for his event,” Leslie squealed.

  Shock passed through Melody. In the years she’d known her employee, Leslie had never squealed with excitement. She was the most level headed and reserved of the two assistants. “Okay, you two go ahead and swoon all you like as long as it doesn’t affect your work. I’m going to get started on the desserts for Byron, the great Elmsford’s show.”

  She fell silent and began working, only half-listening to Kerry and Leslie sing Bryon’s praises and yap about how good-looking and dreamy he was. They all worked for about two hours until the bell over the bakery’s door dinged. Melody stuck her head around the wall to see who had arrived. It was Sam Barnett, the owner of the liquor shop, from just two buildings down from her bakery.

  “Hey, Sam,” she called. “I’ll be right upfront.” Washing and drying her hands, she checked her face for traces of flour, making Kerry laugh.

  “You missed a spot,” she snickered, pointing to the tip of
Melody’s nose.

  Wiping her nose with the tail of her apron, Melody laughed. “Thanks. Flour on the face is an occupational hazard.”

  When she appeared behind the glass counter that showcased an assortment of baked goods, Sam grinned. “Good morning, Melody. How are you?”

  “I’m great. What about you, Sam?”

  “I’m skipping on cloud nine.”

  Melody cocked a brow. Sam was a jovial man with a ready smile, but she’d never seen him quite so... jolly. “Well, that’s good to hear. Is that because you’re going to make a load of money from Byron Elmsford’s show tonight?” Sam was in charge of providing the spirits for the occasion.

  He bellowed out a laugh that resonated in the small bakery, and Melody couldn’t help smiling. “That is a reason to be happy, but something better has happened.”

  Intrigued, Melody leaned against the counter. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Sam.”

  Leaning closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially, Sam announced, “I met Elmsford a few days ago when he just arrived. Can you believe it? I had the luck of meeting him before just about everyone.”

  Melody kept her smile in place, although she couldn’t see what was so exciting about the news. Sam seemed thrilled, though, and she didn’t want to damper his happiness. “That’s great.”

  “Isn’t it? I delivered a few bottles of wine to his hotel room. I took advantage of the opportunity and brought a few of my paintings to show to him. I was so nervous.”

  Sam being an artist was more cause for excitement than Byron Elmsford. Melody gasped. “You paint? Sam, how did I not know that?” They weren’t bosom buddies by any means, but they were friendly enough and had been for years. Their small town was pretty close-knit. Keeping a secret in Port Warren was near impossible, so how come she hadn’t known?

  Sam’s face, bronzed by the sun, took on a pink undertone, and he shrugged his broad shoulders. “No one really knows. I’m so shy about showing my work that I’ve never told anyone about my hobby. It’s my passion, really. It has been since I was a teenager.”

  “Oh, my gosh. I hope one day you go public because I would love to see your work.”

  Excitement swirled in his brown eyes. “That day might very well be soon, Melody. I was brave enough to show a professional my work, and he said they were good on sight. I did wonder if he was just being nice, but he offered to keep a few of the pieces to take a better look at them. He promised to take the time to write up a detailed critique and a few guidelines that will help me improve.”

  Melody paused. “You left your work with this man?”

  “That’s right,” Sam confirmed with glee. “I can’t believe he even gave me the time of day. You know he must be very busy.”

  “But Sam, he’s a stranger. What if he steals your work or your technique... or whatever you artists do?”

  For a second, Sam gaped at Melody before chuckling. “Come on, Melody. Byron has tons of his own masterpieces. He has a massive portfolio, and his work is famous. I doubt he’d steal from a small timer like me.”

  Unconvinced, Melody’s lips quirked. “If you say so.”

  Still laughing, Sam said, “You don’t have to go looking for crimes around every corner just because you’re dating the sheriff.”

  “Very funny, Sam,” she smiled. “So, what will it be today? You’re usual?”

  “You know it,” he responded, eyeing the cinnamon-date buns on the second shelf of the glass showcase. “And a cup of your hazelnut coffee.”

  Melody’s smile broadened. She’d recently widened the bakery’s services to include beverages to go with the pastries. Her place was no Starbucks, but her coffee seemed to be well received.

  As Sam exited the shop, already sipping on his coffee, Melody couldn’t shake the bad feeling she had about her friend being so trusting of the famous artist.

  Chapter Two

  “Well, we’ve managed to pull off another big event, Smudge.”

  Smudge gazed up at Melody and wagged her tail. “I take it you’re congratulating me. Thanks.” Melody laughed and petted the dog’s silky head, causing Smudge to erupt into wiggles of joy. The little bulldog then rolled over for a tummy rub. With her little pink tongue poking through her black lips, she closed her eyes and sighed with joy while Melody tickled her tummy. Melody giggled to herself.

  Between Kerry, Leslie, and her, they’d prepared a boatload of desserts for a huge number of people and still had time to go to their respective homes to get glammed up. Both Kerry and Leslie were at the food table, putting on the finishing touches to their delicious presentation when Melody arrived. “Looks like everything is in place.”

  “And everything looks delicious.”

  Melody looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. “Thank you, Mr. Kritchner.”

  Eli Kritchner was the owner of Port Warren's only art gallery. The man was practically beaming. Eli was a known opportunist and did whatever it took to get publicity for his gallery. Byron Elmsford being there probably had Eli seeing flashing dollar signs.

  “Thank you for catering for the event on such short notice, Melody.”

  “No problem at all. I’m happy to be a part of the town’s festivity.” The way the townspeople were behaving, one would think there was about to be a life-changing event, not just an art show. Melody felt a nudge at her ankle. “Is there anywhere that I can make my companion comfortable, Mr. Kritchner? A backroom, perhaps?”

  The man glanced down at Smudge. “Certainly, I have a golden retriever myself, and when I take him to work with me, he hangs out in my office. I hope your companion is well-behaved.”

  “She is very well-behaved. I promise.”

  Smudge whined as if insulted by the man questioning her behavior.

  It only took Melody a few minutes to get Smudge settled in Mr. Kritchner’s office, then she returned to the main room, where people were already filing in. She joined Kerry and Leslie at the dessert table. “Everything all right, ladies?”

  “Perfect,” they chorused.

  “It looks wonderful.” Melody grinned, inspecting the layout of baked goods.

  Suddenly, Leslie gasped. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God! Everybody be cool.”

  Kerry’s brows dipped. “What in the world has gotten into…” She gasped. “Holy crap! He’s coming over.”

  Confused, Melody followed Kerry’s and Leslie’s wide gazes.

  It was Byron Elmsford in the flesh, sauntering toward them with a sly smile. He was indeed handsome, tall, and toned with a head of thick, luxurious hair that brushed his shoulders. He was movie-star handsome, way too pretty in Melody’s opinion. Give her a rugged, masculine guy any day. The closer he got, the more she was sure her assistants would melt into hot puddles beside her. They gasped and whispered and fanned their faces.

  “How do I look?” Kerry asked.

  “You’ll do,” Leslie whispered. “Rub the lipstick off of your teeth.”

  Another horrified gasp came from Kerry as she scrubbed vigorously at her teeth.

  Rolling her eyes, Melody muttered, “I hope you’ll be washing your hands after that.”

  “Who cares, Byron is like right in front of us,” Kerry hissed.

  “Ladies,” came the deep, much-too-saccharine drawl. Metallic gray eyes swept over the three of them. “Good evening.”

  “Hi,” Leslie and Kerry half sighed, half sang.

  “Oh, my gosh! I can’t believe you’re actually here,” Kerry gushed.

  “Mr. Elmsford.” Melody nodded politely.

  Byron’s gaze zeroed in on her, and interest shone in his eyes. Melody was sure it was because she wasn’t fawning. “My, my, Port Warren is full of so many... lovely subjects who would look breathtaking on my canvas.”

  There was a shrill of ridiculous girly giggles and a flutter of eyelashes along with a long sigh.

  You have got to be kidding me, Melody thought. Her employees, grown women, were acting like school girls with a crush.

  �
�You’re so sweet, Byron.” Leslie offered a hand. “I’m Leslie. May I call you Byron?”

  “Of course. No need to be formal.” Byron took Leslie’s hand and bowed at the waist in an old-world manner to kiss the back of it. He did the same to Kerry, and Melody swore the woman would faint.

  “Wow, you really are charming. I’m Kerry.”

  “Leslie and Kerry, a pleasure.” He turned his attention to Melody. “And who might this ravishing creature be?” Taking her hand, he gave it a kiss also.

  “Melody Marshall.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard so much about you, Melody Marshall.”

  Lifting a brow in surprise, she asked, “You have?” For the life of her, Melody couldn’t understand why her name would be mentioned to someone like Byron.

  “Yes. I’ve been hearing great things about your bakery. As soon as I arrived, I was told that Melody Marshall’s bakery is a place I must visit. It would seem you’re a bit of an artist yourself... in the kitchen.”

  A nod to her skills as a pastry chef did make her flush slightly, but Byron was holding on to her hand a little too long, and she was becoming uncomfortable. It took two hard tugs for her to get her hand back. “Thank you, Mr. Elmsford, that’s very kind of you to say.”

  “That’s Byron to you,” he purred.

  Just then, Melody spotted Alvin walking through the gallery’s entrance. Backing away from Byron, she smiled. “Right, Byron. If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I must speak with.” She scurried off, leaving the flirtatious artist in the capable hands of Kerry and Leslie.

  Alvin walked toward her with his easy, confident gait. The suit he wore showed his more debonair side that was usually hidden by his work uniform. His silky dark hair was windblown, and his blue eyes sparkled as he looked her over. Taking him by surprise, she pulled him in for a kiss as soon as he was close enough.