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  Chocolate Swirls and Murder

  Holly Holmes Cozy Culinary Mystery Series, Volume 2

  K.E. O'Connor

  Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2019.

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  CHOCOLATE SWIRLS AND MURDER

  First edition. August 16, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 K.E. O'Connor.

  Written by K.E. O'Connor.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  Holly Holmes cozy culinary mysteries

  Crypt Witch cozy witch mystery series

  Lorna Shadow cozy ghost mystery series

  Zee Town cozy paranormal mystery series

  Old Sarum witch mystery series

  Thanks to Amy Hart for her excellent proofreading, and my awesome ARC team.

  Cover design by www.stunningbookcovers.com

  Chapter 1

  “Say you’ll take part in the food fair baking contest.” Princess Alice Audley strolled around the kitchen behind me as I prepared a tray of triple chocolate cupcakes for hungry café visitors.

  “I’m too busy to consider the contest.” I twirled chocolate icing over the cupcakes and passed them to Louise to go out to the café.

  “You have a flair for making cakes look beautiful. I always tell people your food is a work of art.” Alice had been buzzing around me like a cute, mildly annoying fly for ten minutes.

  “Delicious works of art, I hope.” I adjusted my grip on the tray of warm cinnamon buns I’d pulled out of the oven before placing it on the counter to cool.

  Alice fluttered her naturally long dark lashes. “I’ll be your best friend if you enter the contest.”

  I chuckled. Despite moving in radically different social circles, I considered Alice a really good friend. “Tourist season is in full swing. Chef Heston won’t let me have the time off to prepare. And you know how fierce the competition will be. I’d have to bring my A game. No slacking off allowed.”

  “I’ll order him to give you the time off.” Alice jammed her hands on her hips and flipped her blonde hair over one shoulder with a toss of her head. “The public deserve to see how beautiful your cakes are. Plus, how delicious they are.” She grabbed a cinnamon bun from the tray. “Ouch! That’s hot.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Ovens tend to do that to food. Leave them for a while. They won’t be ready to ice for another half an hour, at least. And the frosting always brings out the cinnamon.”

  She pouted. “I want cake, and I want it now.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” I dipped a quick curtesy before walking to the chiller cabinet. I took out a batch of fresh cream horns dipped in Belgian chocolate. “Have one of these.”

  “You see!” She held up the flaky pastry horn. “Perfection.”

  “Eat that and stop bothering me about the baking contest.”

  “But you’ll be a huge success. Take some space on the Audley Castle stand on the day. You can sell your cupcakes to see how much people love your desserts,” Alice said. “That will liven things up. We only ever have boring information on there about our castle and my dusty old ancestors. That’s yawn city for most people. However, if you entice them with luscious treats they can buy, you’ll see how popular you are. Then you’ll want to enter the contest.”

  Every year, Audley Castle held a fantastic food fair. Vendors came from all over the country to sell delicious treats to visitors. It had been running for over fifty years. This year, there was a full day of selling, followed by three days of competition, with the best bakers and cooks fighting it out with perfect pies and cakes to win in different categories, plus, an overall grand winner.

  “Holly Holmes! I insist upon it.” Alice wagged a finger at me. “You know what I do to people who don’t follow my orders.”

  “Threaten to chop off their heads?” Sometimes, those threats sounded a bit too real.

  A peal of laughter shot out of her mouth. “That’s right. You can’t deprive the world of your treats. The Duke and Duchess are even judging this year.”

  “It doesn’t feel right that I enter,” I said. “I work here.”

  “That doesn’t disqualify you from entering,” Alice said. “I’ve checked the rules. Besides, it’s all judged fairly. Please say you’ll enter.”

  “Maybe next year.”

  “Chef Heston!” Alice hurried over as my grumpy boss entered the kitchen and grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him toward me. “You have to tell Holly to help on the castle stand at the food fair and enter the competition. She must take part.”

  “Must she now.” His dark eyes narrowed as he glared at me. “Trying to get out of work again, Holmes?”

  I lifted my hands and shook my head. “I’ve already told Princess Alice that I’m too busy in the kitchen.”

  “And I’ve told her it’s her civic duty to share her treats with everyone,” Alice said. “There’s plenty of room on the Audley Castle display stand. And we’re short of people to look after it. This is the perfect solution. Holly can do a few hours and sell delicious treats. She can also send people to the café, so it’s a win-win all round.”

  Some people thought Alice was nothing but an extremely beautiful face surrounded by a mass of dazzling blonde curls. She was nothing short of a genius when she wanted to be.

  Chef Heston grunted. “We’ll be busy during the food fair. People still come to the café, especially if they’ve been looking around for several hours and need somewhere to sit.”

  “You can spare Holly,” Alice said. “Look at all the cakes she’s already baked today. And you’ve got a whole team working here. You won’t miss her.”

  I gritted my teeth. I sort of hoped he would, or he might decide I was superfluous to requirements and get rid of me.

  “Will you promote the café if you do this?” he asked me.

  “Of course,” I said. “I can put out samples of what we have at the café. And I’ll sell our cakes as well.”

  “And you must get her to take part in the competition,” Alice said.

  “Hmmm. I’m not sure about that. That will take her away from her duties,” Chef Heston said.

  “Don’t be such a meanie!” Alice swatted his arm.

  I masked a smile behind my hand. Only a princess could get away with doing that. “I don’t mind not being a part of the competition.” Although if I did enter, I might test out a Neapolitan and red velvet layer cake with a chocolate chip mousse.

  “You do have those unusual flourishes you add to your creations,” Chef Heston said. “It would be interesting to see what other people thought of them.”

  “That’s a yes!” Alice stood on her tiptoes and kissed Chef Heston’s cheek.

  He flushed bright pink before turning and hurrying away.

  “I’ll pay for that,” I said. “You bullied him into getting me involved.”

  Alice’s eyes glittered as she beamed at
me. “So, what are you going to bake?”

  I grinned back, enthused by her excitement. “Well, I was thinking of—”

  The kitchen door opened. Lord Rupert Audley bumbled in, smiling when he saw me. “I was hoping you might have some of your triple chocolate fudge brownies available. I’ve been thinking about them all morning. In fact, I had a dream about one last night.”

  “Some came out of the oven ten minutes ago,” I said. “They’re still warm.”

  Rupert pushed his messy blond hair out of his face. “They’re perfect like that. Not that they aren’t delicious at any other time. You always bake perfection.”

  “You can’t beat a just out of the oven brownie.” I plated one up and handed it over.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” Alice bit into her cream horn. “I’m twisting Holly’s arm to get her involved in the cake contest. She’s pretending she doesn’t have enough time. I know you can convince her otherwise.”

  “Well, you do make jolly delicious cakes,” he said. “If I had a vote, I’d vote for you to win the whole thing.”

  My cheeks grew warm, and I looked away. “That’s kind of you. However, as I was explaining to your sister—”

  “Stuff and nonsense,” Alice said. “Besides, it’s too late. I’ve put your name down.”

  “You’ve done what?” I stared at her in disbelief.

  She grinned and ate more cream horn. “It’s all arranged.”

  “What if I’d said no?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t.” Alice giggled.

  I bit my bottom lip. I was secretly excited about being a part of this contest. I had four main loves in my life: my adorable corgi cross, Meatball, who was currently lounging in his kennel outside the kitchen; my interest in history; my love of new fitness trends; and baking. It wasn’t so long ago that I ran my own café. It didn’t end well, but I loved nothing more than starting the day with my head full of recipes to tempt people with.

  Chef Heston returned and loudly cleared his throat. “This is a kitchen I’m trying to run here, not a social event.”

  Alice giggled again before grabbing her brother’s arm. “We’re going.” She winked at me before they left the kitchen.

  Chef Heston shook his head. “There’s a delivery you need to do.”

  “Where to?” I asked.

  “Mrs. Brown.”

  “Is the van free?”

  He smirked. “Take the bike. The exercise will do you good. I noticed you’ve been sampling your own brownies again.”

  My eyes widened. “Taste testing is an important part of the job.”

  He snorted a laugh. “The bike’s outside waiting for you.”

  I repressed a sigh as I took off my apron and headed outside with the four boxes of cakes for Mrs. Brown. Chef Heston loved to torture me by insisting I ride the delivery bike into Audley St. Mary.

  Not that it was a huge chore, unless the trolley really was loaded with cake. But Audley St. Mary had a few hills, and I always ended up puffed out and sweaty by the time my deliveries were over.

  I hadn’t had time to take Meatball for a walk at lunchtime, we’d been so rushed with orders, so once the cakes were secured on the trolley, I hurried around to his kennel.

  He bounced up as soon as he saw me and wagged his little brown tail. He was my best friend, and it had been a condition of me taking this job that I could bring him with me. And, although quite rightly, Meatball wasn’t allowed in the kitchen, I’d been given permission to erect a luxurious kennel right outside the door so I could keep an eye on him while I worked.

  “Come on, boy,” I said. “Delivery time.”

  “Woof woof.” That was his version of saying yes. He waited patiently as I attached his harness and helmet—safety first—before lifting him into the wicker basket secured on the front of the bike.

  Yes, it was that kind of bike. Old-fashioned, heavy-framed, and with no gears. It was part of the image Audley Castle portrayed. We had a lot of traditions at the castle and apparently using bikes with no gears was one of them.

  I headed away from the castle and made my way up and down the first hill. By the time I’d reached Mrs. Brown’s thirty minutes later, I was out of breath and my legs felt like they’d gotten a workout.

  I climbed off the bike, lifting a hand in greeting as several residents wandered past.

  Audley St. Mary was a small, friendly village. The village had grown up around Audley Castle and was proud to have mostly independent stores and a wonderful history that dated back hundreds of years.

  I petted Meatball on the back before untying the cake boxes and walking along the pretty cottage garden pathway to Mrs. Brown’s front door.

  She lived in a tiny thatched cottage on the edge of the village. As far as I knew, she lived alone, and rumor had it she had more money than the Queen.

  I knocked at the door.

  Mrs. Brown’s wrinkled face lit up as she opened it and saw the cakes. “Holly! You’re my savior. When I contacted the kitchen yesterday to put in my last-minute request, I wasn’t sure you’d have time for me.” She gestured me into the cottage.

  “We’ve always got time for you, Mrs. Brown.”

  She smiled. “I’d forgotten all about the supper gathering I’m hosting this evening. My eight friends and I have been getting together for almost fifty years. Once a month, we take turns to host a small party. It must be my age making me forget. I only remembered because I was chatting to Dorothy on the phone last night and she said ‘see you tomorrow’. I pretended that I knew what she meant. It was only when I consulted my diary that it came flooding back. Never get old, Holly.” She patted my hand.

  I wouldn’t mind being as sprightly as Mrs. Brown when I was in my eighties. She was independent, got out of her cottage several times a week, and I’d even seen her at the village Pilates class.

  I set the cakes on the wooden kitchen counter. “These should ensure the party gets off to a good start.”

  “Absolutely. Let’s take a peek.” She lifted a box lid and sighed in delight. “Your cakes are so pretty. I always know when you’ve baked them. Look at those tiny flowers on the top. They’re so beautiful, I feel guilty eating them.”

  I chuckled, pleased she’d noticed my careful eye for detail. “Please do eat them. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

  “Oh! Of course. It’ll be my pleasure. We plan to eat every last one. Although I did order an extra box so I could enjoy some later in the week.” She closed the box lid and studied me in silence for a few seconds. “Do you see anything of Lady Philippa while you’re at the castle?”

  “Of course. She’s got a sweet tooth and is often asking for cakes to be sent to her room. I sometimes take them if we’re busy in the kitchen.”

  “Oh! Is she unwell? She can’t leave her bedroom?” Mrs. Brown’s age-spotted hand fluttered against her narrow chest.

  “No, nothing like that. She tends to spend most of her time in the east turret. She likes it up there. It’s got a good view of the grounds.” I deliberately didn’t mention that Lady Philippa believed her family kept her locked in there. “Do you know her?”

  Mrs. Brown looked out the window. “We used to be friends. Every time I have one of these gatherings, I wonder if I should rekindle our friendship.”

  “Did you have a falling out?”

  She looked back at me and her gaze hardened. “I should say. At one of our tea parties, she declared that somebody was about to die. I was mortified. How can you have a fun party when someone just declared a death is about to occur?”

  My eyes widened. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard about Lady Philippa’s ability to predict the future, especially when it came to somebody’s demise. “Did the person die?”

  “Yes! That’s the worst thing. Because of her unfortunate ability, it was set in stone.”

  “Her ... ability?”

  “Oh yes! And you must have heard that the Audleys, and those who marry into the family, become cursed,” Mrs. Brown said
. “A love curse so I’ve heard. The rumors are only fueled by the fact they live in a haunted castle.”

  “I don’t know about ghosts.” I’d experienced my fair share of spooky noises and cold spots but wasn’t ready to admit there might be ghosts in the place I worked. “It can get a bit drafty in there, though.”

  “Drafty!” Mrs. Brown shook her head. “You’d be wise to keep an open mind. Lady Philippa and that whole family have mystery surrounding them. No, I think it’s better if I keep my distance. If I invite her to another party, she’ll only do something dramatic. That would be the end of my social life.”

  “Yes, I suppose it might. Well, I’d better get going,” I said, not sure I was in a position to advise on such a delicate matter. “Busy day at the castle. Lots of baking to do.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Brown led me back to the door, tucking a ten pound note in my hand as she did so. “Buy yourself something nice.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled and nodded. The tips were amazing from the wealthy villagers. They all went into my fund to buy new recipe books and go on cooking courses.

  “And it’s the food fair soon. I trust you’ll be taking part.”

  “I wasn’t until about an hour ago. I’ll be on the Audley Castle stand if you want to drop by.”

  “With free samples?” She opened the door, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

  “Of course.” I smiled and waved goodbye as I headed back to the bike. Everyone seemed to know about the curses and hauntings at the castle. It wasn’t such a surprise. The tourist brochure and the website played up to the fact the place was supposed to be haunted. And I’d experienced first-hand how spookily accurate Lady Philippa’s predictions could be.

  I unclipped Meatball’s helmet and took him for a fifteen-minute walk around the village green before we headed back and I grabbed the bike. I turned it toward Audley Castle and cycled back as fast as I could.

  I had a lot of work to do if I was entering this cake competition. Bakers could be a competitive bunch as we tried to outdo each other with the lightest sponge and sweetest buttercream. I needed to get testing and baking if I was to stand a chance of winning.