Pastries, Coffee, and Murder: A Clean Cozy Mystery

chapter 5

As I slipped the coupons inside my right trouser pocket, Ruki’s voice floated over to me from the counter. “So, Danny, we have a variety of pastries today. I’ve got cinnamon rolls, croissants, blueberry muffins, and chocolate éclairs. What would you like to try first?”

I thought for a moment, the scents of the bakery mingling in the air around me. “Let’s start with the cinnamon rolls,” I said, the warm, spicy aroma already enticing me.

“Excellent choice,” she replied cheerfully. “And what about coffee? I can make you a cappuccino, latte, espresso, or just a regular cup of Joe.”

“I’ll take a huge cup of Joe,” I said with a smile, settling comfortably into my seat.

“Coming right up,” Ruki said, and I could hear her bustling behind the counter, the sound of cups clinking and the coffee machine whirring.

As I waited, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. The shop was cozy, filled with the comforting smells of fresh pastries and coffee, and Ruki’s presence was warm and inviting. I hoped the town folks would feel the same way too. It would really be good for Ruki's business if they did. Here's hoping for the best.

Moments later, she returned, placing a plate with a cinnamon roll and a steaming mug of coffee in front of me. “Here you go, Danny. Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Ruki,” I said, reaching for the mug and taking a sip. The coffee was rich and strong, just the way I liked it. I picked up the cinnamon roll, feeling its warmth and softness, and took a bite. The sweet, spicy flavors danced on my tongue.

“This is delicious,” I said, savoring the taste.

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied, a hint of pride in her voice.

As I continued to enjoy my order, I asked, “So, have you had any customers today?”

She sighed. “Not yet, but I’m hopeful.”

Just as she finished speaking, the doorbell chimed, signaling someone had entered the shop. We both turned toward the sound.

“Well, there you go,” I said with a smile. “Your first customer of the day.”

Ruki walked towards the door to greet the newcomer. “Good morning! Welcome to Ruki’s Pastries and Coffee.”

There was a slight shift in the atmosphere, a tension that hadn’t been there before. I heard the loud, angry footsteps of the new customer even before Ruki welcomed them and as soon as she spoke, I recognized her by her voice immediately. This was Beatrice Martins, the owner of the only restaurant in Saint Monica. Before I could say a greeting, let her know that a familiar face was here, she started to speak up. Her words were unpleasant. And most of all, shocking.

“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Beatrice said, her voice sharp and biting. “I’ve heard enough about you and this shop. Saint Monica doesn’t need another place for people to eat. My restaurant has been more than enough for everyone here.”

Ruki's voice wavered slightly, but she maintained her composure. “I’m sorry you feel that way, ma’am. I’m just trying to offer something new to the town. I believe there’s room for both of us.”

“There’s no room for competition,” Beatrice snapped. “I built my restaurant from the ground up. The people here are satisfied with what I provide. They don’t need your pastries and coffee.”

Ruki tried to reason with her, her tone calm and measured. “I respect what you’ve built, Mrs. Martins, but I’m not here to take away from your success. I just want to share my passion for baking with the community. Surely there’s enough space for both of us to coexist.”

Beatrice scoffed. “Coexist? Do you think this is some kind of game? This town has no need for you. You should pack up and leave before you find out just how unwelcome you are.”

Ruki took a deep breath, standing her ground. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere. I have every right to be here, just as much as you do.”

Beatrice sounded and I guess she probably looked that way as well, like a caterpillar that was on the move to destroy anything and everything on its path but I was impressed to see that instead of cowering under her boomeranging tone of voice that echoed all around the pastry shop, Ruki was holding her own against Beatrice.

Beatrice’s voice was filled with venom. “Mark my words, you’ll regret staying here. This town is mine, and I won’t let anyone take it away from me.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the bakery, the door slamming shut behind her. The room was left in a stunned silence, the cheerful atmosphere shattered by her harsh words.

Ruki let out a shaky breath, turning back to me. “Well, that was... unexpected.”

I nodded, though my mind was already racing with thoughts. “She’s just threatened, Ruki. Don’t let her get to you. You’re doing a great job here.”

“Thanks, Danny,” she said softly. “I guess I knew there’d be some resistance, but I didn’t expect it to be so intense.”

“You’re bringing something new and wonderful to Saint Monica,” I said firmly. “People will see that. Give it time.”

Ruki smiled, though I could sense the worry behind it. “I hope so.”

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Beatrice’s words lingering in the air. But as I sipped my coffee and took another bite of the cinnamon roll, I felt a pang of anger at Beatrices threats. What gave her the right to tell a fellow town's member that she was not welcome in Saint Monica? And was she really serious about what she said or was this one of her empty threats?

The rest of the morning passed quietly, with a few customers trickling in and out, each one greeted warmly by Ruki. I stayed for a while, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and the delicious food. Despite the earlier confrontation, I had faith that things would work out.

As I prepared to leave, I reached out to Ruki. “Hang in there. You’ve got something special here, and people will see it sooner than later.”

“Thanks, Danny,” she said, her voice full of gratitude. “I really appreciate your support.”

“Anytime,” I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

As I stepped out into the fresh air, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Ruki. She had come into this town, reached out to everyone with her sweet pastries. And for free.

She deserved to be given a chance in Saint Monica like everyone living here. She deserved to succeed like everyone else who had made this cozy little town their home and Beatrice was on the wrong side of the divide if she was trying to run her out of town.

With that, I walked back to my apartment, determined to spread the word about the wonderful new bakery in town.