Never Say Pie (A Pie Shop Mystery) by Carol Culver Page B

do. I didn’t have training and even if I did, Sam would never let me get near a suspect. Unless he didn’t know about it. All I could do for now was to keep my eyes and ears open and if I heard something, I’d pass it on to the authorities. In the meantime, Sam was right. Baking pies was my job. I was good at it. I needed to concentrate on what I did best.
    “I need a gimmick,” I said to Grannie and her chums when they stopped by.
    “Nonsense,” Grannie insisted. “You have quality pies. Why do you need a gimmick?”
    “Because everyone else has one,” I said, averting my eyes from Lurline’s booth where she was icing cupcakes with the initials of the customer while they waited. “Actually someone suggested I hold a pie contest.” I waited expecting Grannie and her friends to throw up their hands and say, “A pie contest? What for? That’s the most ridiculous idea I ever heard.” But they didn’t.
    “How would that work?” Helen asked.
    I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Never mind. The person who suggested it is … out of the picture.” That was for sure. Heath Barr was as far out of the picture as possible. I could forget about the pie contest.
    Helen put her hand on my arm. “I actually like the idea of the contest,” she said. “You’ll be the judge. People will bring their pies to your shop and you’ll have a bake-off. The customers can vote.”
    “Or your grandmother could be the judge,” Grace said with a nod toward Grannie. “You could charge an entry fee and give the money to charity. Or not. All you need is a prize.”
    Now I was getting worried. They were really into this contest thing. I should have kept my mouth shut.
    “I have a silver tea service. I never use it,” Helen said. “Not since I moved to Heavenly Acres.”
    “But Helen,” I protested, “you might want to have a tea some afternoon for your friends.”
    “If I do, I’ll invite them up on the hill,” she said referring to Heavenly Acres Retirement Home located on a hill above town with an ocean view. “We have tea every afternoon in the dining room or on the terrace. It’s a lovely atmosphere and very nicely done with the little cucumber sandwiches and all.”
    “But what about your heirs? Won’t they want to inherit your tea set?”
    “I offered it to my daughter, she turned me down. So it’s yours for a good cause. Whatever the cause. Whether it’s to encourage home baking or promote your pie shop.”
    “That’s very generous of you,” I said. The way she said it made the contest sound like a public service. “I’ll think about it. Are you sure it’s a good idea? What if someone out there is a better baker than I am?”
    Grannie shook her head in disbelief. Helen and Grace assured me it wasn’t possible. Still I had in no way committed myself yet.
    Grannie then sidled up to me and said in a loud whisper. “Is it true about the food critic?”
    I nodded. “You mean …”
    “That he was murdered?”
    “That’s what they say,” I said.
    She shook her head. “I should never have retired. This town has gone to rack and ruin since I gave up the shop.”
    “You’re not saying I had anything to do with this homicide or any other unnatural death are you?”
    “Of course not, it’s not your fault. It’s the times we live in. I thought I’d be safe up at Heavenly Acres. But now I’m looking over my shoulder. Until they catch the murderer.”
    “You are safe. Just don’t criticize anyone in the Gazette and you’ll stay safe.”
    “Then you think it was someone Mr. Barr dumped on who offed him,” Grannie said.
    I hid a smile when I heard Grannie talking like a mobster. “That’s my theory.”
    “Then Sam will catch him.” Grannie thought Sam rivaled any detective, whether Sam Spade, Columbo, or Sherlock Holmes.
    “You think it was a him?”
    “No woman could have done such a horrible thing,” Grannie said with a frown. “Slit his throat with a cake knife.”
    “Where’d you hear