Free Murder At The Bake Off (Celebrity Mysteries 3) by Zanna Mackenzie Page A

with your ex. Thanks for coming down here with me. It’s been a real help.”
    I smile. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
    A wicked grin creeps across his handsome features. He takes his eyes off the road for a second and flashes me a sexy look. “Anything?”
    I bat him playfully on the arm. “Concentrate on your driving,” I pretend to chastise him.
    He chuckles as he returns his gaze to the road. “I could be condemned to a jail cell soon. You wouldn’t want to deny your fiancé some love and affection, surely?”
    “Don’t joke about such things! There’s no way you’re going to jail, Jack Mathis.”
    I’m determined to help Jack as much as I can with this case. I’m going to clear his name, the way he cleared mine. To change the topic of conversation I say, “So, how far is it to this place in the Cotswolds? Time is getting on, and I really need to be back in Cumbria tonight.”
    “Yeah, I know. If the motorway keeps running smoothly, then we should be there in an hour or so, I reckon.”
    I settle back in my seat and close my eyes for a while to mull over everything that’s happened today, from dodging Adam to what the women said at Cherry’s place. After what can only be about five minutes, I sense the car slowing and open one eye to see what’s going on. Ahead of us, in the afternoon gloom, all I can see is the red glow of car brake lights. Then warning signs start appearing on the hard shoulder, advising of roadworks and possible delays. Jack swears under his breath. Hmm. My thoughts exactly. It’ll probably be hours now until we get through all of this and off the motorway to head for the Cotswolds.
     
    Eventually, we arrive in Hamberley On The Water, which is a picturesque village of warm, honey-coloured stone buildings arranged along a bustling main street with a pretty stream running off to the side of the idyllic scene.
    “Hey, that must be Maggie’s bakery,” I say, pointing out the window as Jack slows the car to take a look. “ Bakewells, The Celebrity Bakery ,” I read from the shop’s elegant signage.
    Jack swings the car into a convenient slot on the busy village high street. “Let’s take a look.”
    We clamber out and walk towards the bakery. A woman and a sulky-looking teenage boy are just coming out. She smiles and holds the door open for us. The interior is bright, all chrome and glass, with a modern vibe to it. There’s a sitting area where you can devour coffee and cake which is equally as trendy as the rest of the place. I’m checking out the baked goods on display in the cabinets, trying not to drool, when I hear Jack ask the woman behind the counter if Maggie is around.
    “Sorry,” she says, beaming him a sad smile. “You just missed her. She was the woman who held the door open for you. She left early today, what with that terrible business with her mother.” She lowers her voice and rests her elbows on the top of the glass counter. “You do know she’s Cherry Bakewell’s daughter?”
    “Yeah, that was what we wanted to talk to her about,” Jack replies.
    The woman steps away from the counter, eyeing him suspiciously, and asks in a frosty tone, “You’re not a journalist, are you? Because if you are, I can tell you right now to get out because she won’t—”
    Jack holds up both hands in a placating gesture and then passes her one of his business cards. She reads it and frowns. “Anyone can get fake cards easy enough online these days. You could still be a newshound, just pretending to be a good-guy investigator. I’m not telling you anything. Please leave.”
    “If that’s what you want.” Jack turns to go, but as he does so he flashes a quick meet me outside look in my direction.
    I find Jack waiting for me beneath a tree down by the stream. The spot where he’s standing almost seems enchanted in the late afternoon darkness of this gloomy February day.  The tree’s bare branches are laced with white fairy lights, and my knight in shining