Murder At The Bake Off (Celebrity Mysteries 3) by Zanna Mackenzie Read Free Book Online

leads.”
    Looks like I’m about to make my first trip to London in about two years, then.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Being back in the city feels unsettling. I tell myself this visit is about trying to find out who wanted Cherry Bakewell dead and ensuring Jack is no longer under suspicion for involvement in her death. That’s why we’re here, and we’ll pay a visit to the people on our list and then get out of here. Fast. I don’t want to revisit old haunts or relive what happened here. Jack reaches across and squeezes my knee, his eyes still on the road. “You all right?”
    I force a smile and nod far too enthusiastically.
    “This is the place,” he says, slipping his car into a slot on a busy commercial street in the capital.
    I look around. I don’t recognise this area at all. There’s an affluent feel to it, and lots of yummy mummies are strolling along with trendy pushchairs. Across the street, among an assortment of posh clothes stores, coffee shops and a few banks, sits The Pear. It takes up about three storefronts with its tinted windows and trendy silver signage, which includes large elegant silver pears arranged across the glass.  “Let’s go and have a chat with Terry.”
    Just as my hand closes around the door handle something catches my eye and makes me look over the road at our destination. A man is just leaving The Pear, holding the door open for a couple of women who are heading inside. My heart starts to thump. No. It cannot be. It’s just my imagination. Please, let it just be my overactive imagination.
    But it isn’t.
    One of the women smiles and says something to the man, who turns in my direction as he replies. Now I can see his face full on, there’s no mistaking who he is. Adam. The one person I definitely did not want to bump into on this impromptu trip to London.
    Jack is halfway out of the car, so I lunge for his arm, pulling him back into the car’s interior.
    He shoots me a weird look. “What’s up?”
    About twenty feet away from us, Adam is still chatting (which means flirting) with the two women. If we get out of the car now, there’s a hefty chance he’ll see us. Which, knowing Adam, will mean he’ll come over to talk to us. That is a scenario which can only end in bad things happening. 
    “I wanted a kiss,” I say, as it’s the first thing that comes to mind. I pull Jack closer and plant my lips on his. I can tell he’s a little surprised at first, but then his hand slips around my waist, gently pressing into my back, encouraging me closer. I try to open one eye to check if Adam has moved on but we’re at the wrong angle and I only succeed in sending myself dizzy and cross-eyed. Oh well, I’ll just have to keep Jack’s attention focused on this kiss—a very long kiss—to maximise the chances of Adam having disappeared by the time we get around to leaving this vehicle.
    Jack finally eases away a fraction and whispers, “Sure you don’t want to stay in London tonight? I could book us a hotel, we could make a little romantic break of it.”
    “I can’t,” I reply, my voice laced with regret. Sure, I want to get out of London, but on the other hand, a few days away with my fiancé would be wonderful. “I’ve got to get back to Eskdale and the veg business, plus I’m due to work at the village shop tomorrow.”  I don’t like to leave Eskdale for too long. I’m still trying to make the farm pay, so I don’t want to go missing deliveries or upsetting my hard-won customers.
    Jack’s lips find mine again. Pity I can’t relax and enjoy our smooch, but I’m still worried about who might be lurking across the road. Somebody knocks on the driver’s side door window, and I yelp and jump a foot. Is it Adam? Has he spotted us in the car?
    Jack buzzes down the window.
    A man wearing a fluorescent yellow tabard and a hat with the words Parking Warden leans down to the window and says to us, “The meter’s not working, mate, it’s out of order. You can park for free. Must