Some Enchanted clair : A Magical Bakery Mystery (9780698140561) by Bailey Cates

too.” Niklas sounded bitter. “Simon paid off a man whose wife I’d been seeing. Mostly so my own wife wouldn’t find out.”
    â€œSo you’re married?”
    He snorted. “Not anymore. She figured it out on her own.”
    I heard rustling then, and the voices grew fainter and then drifted away altogether. Was Quinn done talking to the director? I leaned my cheek against the wall, straining to hear.
    Of course, I’d forgotten I was wearing the three-cornered hat, which promptly jammed down over my eyes.
    â€œOw.” As I tugged at the brim, my elbow hit something. I freed myself from the hat in time to see a naked mannequin tipping over. My hand moved to stop it as if in slow motion, and a nanosecond later it crashed into a metal shelving unit.
    The murmurs of the crime scene techs grew silent.
    â€œOops,” I said to Mungo, who had leaped to the side and now radiated disapproval.
    â€œHear anything interesting?” Quinn asked from the doorway.
    Guilt stabbing my solar plexus, I casually shrugged. “I was looking at the props while I waited.”
    â€œSure you were,” he said. “Sit down. I might as well talk with you next.”
    I sat back on my folding chair, and Quinn took a metal stool and placed it five feet in front of me. Mungo settled between us, and I dove into trying to explain how Ben and Declan and several of our friends had become involved with the filming of the movie while Lucy and I had devoted our time to keeping the bakery running smoothly. I told Quinn again how Mimsey had brought Simon in, that we’d made lunch, and that we had been asked to cater for the rest of the time the crew was filming in Savannah. As I spoke, the light outside grew more angled, and the air inside the tent cooled a few degrees.
    â€œHonest to Pete,” I said. “I’ve never met any of these people before today. I have no idea what happened, why it happened, or who would have anything against Simon Knapp. Except . . .”
    His eyebrow rose in question.
    â€œWell, he did fire the other caterer. Seems a pretty weak reason to kill someone, though.”
    Unsmiling, Quinn made a note. “The director called Simon a fixer.” Was he testing me, trying to find out if I’d been listening?
    Well, it wasn’t my fault I could hear his interview right where he’d told me to wait. He should have been more circumspect if he didn’t want me to eavesdrop. So I said, “Yes, I heard him tell you that. Maybe that’s a good start for finding a motive for murder.”
    Quinn looked oddly satisfied. “You say you’ve never met any of these people.”
    â€œWell, of course I know Steve. He was here when Deck and I stumbled onto the scene, all wrapped around Althea Cole.” I couldn’t hide the scorn that leaked out around my words.
    Amusement flickered across the detective’s face.
    â€œWhom I recognized but had never met,” I finished.
    â€œWhat about the psychic?”
    I pressed my lips together. “Ursula Banford introduced herself to me less than a minute before you arrived.”
    He leaned back in his chair and regarded me. “Do you think she’s really a psychic?”
    I lifted my shoulders, then let them fall. “How should I know?”
    â€œDo you believe in psychics?”
    I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it. Did I? “I honestly don’t know,” I finally said.
    â€œWhat about intuition?” he asked.
    Peter Quinn and I had had several conversations, both on his professional turf as a policeman and on mine at the Honeybee. But this was the first time he’d gone down this road.
    â€œYes,” I said. “Of course I believe in intuition. Don’t you?”
    Slowly, he nodded. “In my job it’s helpful. I do all right, but I wish I had more of it. You, on the other hand, seem to have more than your fair