Cake and Taxes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 2) by K. P. Hilton

Chapter 1
     
    Summer was well under way in Yellow Rose, TX. The schools were out, air-born allergens were lower than the year before, and sales were up at the bakery. Overall, business owner Betty Hitchens was having a good week.
     
    Except that her latest creation was giving her fits.
     
    A young couple in town was getting married and the bride's mother had ordered a cake. One with multicolored stripes and dots and stars on top and edible candies along the sides that looked like pearls. For some reason, that had been important to the woman. Simple enough , thought Betty. Except that the ingredients weren't cooperating.
     
    Batter curdles had appeared on the first attempt at making the cake. Betty had solved that issue with beating the eggs more thoroughly before the next attempt. She also decided that the electric mixer was set at too high of a speed and adjusted it.
     
    On the second attempt, though, the top crust had come out too hard. After some investigating, Betty realized the temperature was too high and the layers were cooked too close to the top of the oven. None of the problems were serious and she knew that adjusting to professional-quality equipment after working for years out of her kitchen at home would take some time. She was, however, ready for the learning curve to start flattening out.
     
    She took a quick break and peaked out through the doorway to the front of the store. Fred Darby, a tall freckle faced young man, was straightening items in the display case. Soon, at nine o'clock, he'd unlock the door, signaling the beginning of another work day. Fred and his twin brother George took turns during the week working the front by helping customers and ringing up sales. They were each taking a summer break from their studies at the local community college. Brianna, Betty's daughter, was supposed to be helping her mother with the wedding cake but had said she was feeling under the weather and stayed at home that morning.
     
    Betty stepped in and asked Fred if all was ready.
     
    “Yes, ma'am. And it's about that time, isn't it?” he asked, checking his watch.
     
    Betty nodded. “Did you catch the Cowboys game this weekend?”
     
    Fred sighed. “I did. They played hard, but didn't quite pull it out this time.”
     
    “They'll do better next week. There's still plenty of season left.” Betty was more of a UT fan, preferring college to professional football. But there were plenty of Cowboys fans around and she liked to be encouraging.
     
    She returned to the kitchen area and cleaned up a little. After filling one of the trash containers, she pulled the plastic bag from within it and headed outside to the dumpster. As she was about to walk back inside, she heard an angry voice. She turned around and realized it was coming from someone standing in the alley behind Ned's hardware store, the storefront next to hers.
     
    In fact, it was Ned's voice that she'd heard. He was talking to a professionally-dressed young woman who was wearing a short-sleeved red blouse, slacks, and matching shoes. Betty realized it was Marge Nelson, the wife of a dear friend of hers. From the angle where they stood and with the intensity of the heated exchange that was occurring, Betty didn't think they had noticed her.
     
    She started to return to her work inside, considering it bad form to listen in on other people's conversations when she had the option of moving out of earshot. People nowadays, especially the younger generation, didn't seem to have the manners and common sense that her generation did, in her opinion.
     
    Still...there were several loose bricks near the back door that she had been meaning to fix. She could contact the building owner who was technically responsible for repairs. But it was such a minor thing she had decided to take care of it herself when she'd discovered the problem a few days ago. And why put off again what I could take care of today? she thought.
     
    As she poked and studied the bricks