Death By Doughnuts [EBOOK]

Chapter 1 <br>
The cottage had finally stopped radiating heat, but the once pale walls were now scorched and crumbling. Inside was nothing but an empty space, a cavity bereft of all internal structure. Windows stood empty like vacant eye sockets, and the roofless building was spread open to the sky. <br>
Nonetheless, Ginger Burnet saw potential in the ruin. Tools in hand, she approached, determined to shape the sweet little cottage into the masterpiece that she knew it could be.<br>
Ginger picked up her small pot of isomalt and a teaspoon, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth. Adjusting the cool, dark brown gingerbread wall on the waxed paper, she carefully began to pour the melted sugar replacement into the spaces left for the windows.<br>
Amid her intense focus, Ginger heard the tap of tiny feet, followed by the chair on the opposite side of the table creaking as a weight landed on it. After she finished pouring the window, Ginger looked up through her feathery brunette fringe to see Nina, one of her blue shorthair cats, peering over the edge of the table with her intense golden eyes.<br>
“Don’t even think about it,” Ginger warned, setting down the isomalt and lifting the setting sugar glass onto the wooden worktop, well out of reach of curious paws. “Remember what happened when you investigated the caramel? We had to clip patches of your fur off, and it took weeks to grow back properly.”<br>
Lifting her head above the table, Nina twitched one ear and squinted, as if reliving her mistake. Ginger chuckled, taking up one of her piping bags filled with royal icing. She continued to work on the smaller pieces of gingerbread she had cut out freehand for the hedges included in her design.<br>
Her record of a Thelonious Monk concert that he and his quartet had given in Paris in 1964 was playing on the turntable in the living room next door. As she drew delicate leaves and stalks in various hues of green and brown, Ginger found herself humming along and began to sway a little, her bare feet lightly skimming the cool ceramic tiles of her cottage’s kitchen floor. It was one of her favourite records, and it never failed to get her toes tapping.<br>
“Did I ever tell you where I found this record, Nina?” she asked the cat, who was now dozing in a patch of August sunlight. “It was November, a couple of years ago before I moved back here to Little Chiswick. I was still in London, and it was dark, raining, miserable.”<br>
The cat rolled onto her back, twitching one ear as she looked at Ginger upside down.<br>
“I was walking to the tube to go home one evening, when I passed this little pop-up market on the Thames embankment.” Ginger picked up a cocktail stick and began adding texture to the hedge leaves while the icing was still soft. “There was a crate of records in a corner on the floor. Something made me stop to flick through them, and I found this masterpiece.”<br>
Nina sneezed as she accidentally inhaled some flour off the floor, then leapt to her feet and trotted out of the kitchen.<br>
“Sorry, was I boring you?” Ginger called, shaking her head with a grin.<br>
Shimmying across the kitchen to check on the cooling windows in her gingerbread walls, Ginger got lost in the memory of dancing around her beautiful but tiny London flat. On that freezing November night, she’d soaked in the smooth notes of the music to try and forget about how miserable her job, her home, and her life were.
Turning back toward the kitchen’s central island to place the finished hedge piece with the others, Ginger had to stop with a squeak of alarm when she nearly stepped on her second blue shorthair cat.<br>
“Miles,” she chastised, scooping him up. “I know you’re half blind, buddy, but please try to keep out from under my feet.”<br>
The cat purred, head-butting her gently on the chin. He blinked slowly—his left eye the yellowish-green of oxidised copper, the right milky white with blindness—blinked slowly with happiness as he snuggled closer to her.<br>
The clatter of the metal cover on the letter slot cut through the peaceful atmosphere. A moment later, Nina came trotting into the kitchen, an embossed dark green envelope held delicately in her mouth.<br>
“What do we have here?” Ginger asked, dusting off her hands on her faded jean shorts.<br>
Crouching, she delicately took the envelope from her cat’s mouth, giving Nina a scratch behind the ear in thanks. Turning the envelope over in her hands, Ginger studied it carefully.<br>
The thick, expensive cardstock of the envelope was the deep green of the moss growing on her cottage’s roof tiles and was embossed with twisting vines. Most notable, however, was the ornate black wax seal pressed onto the back.<br>
Tipping it toward the light, Ginger tried to make out the letter or symbol at the centre of the seal. However, the heat of August was not friendly to wax, and the design had melted slightly.<br>
“Who sends letters with wax seals anymore?” Ginger murmured, sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the pale blue-grey doors of her kitchen cabinet.<br>
Reaching up and feeling around for the small sharp knife she’d been using previously to trim the gingerbread, Ginger slit open the top of the envelope and took out the letter inside.<br>
With a growing sense of astonishment and intrigue, she quickly scanned the lines of beautifully written calligraphy, one hand coming up to cover her mouth in surprise.<br>
“Miles! Nina! Listen to this! ‘Dear Miss Burnet,’” she read aloud, “‘here at Breakline Entertainment, we’re always eager to find new ways to push the borders of local programming and believe that even local television stations can host unique high-quality programming. So, we’ve decided this year to take steps toward making this a reality with… reality!’”<br>
Ginger paused to chuckle a bit. She’d written enough marketing copy in her previous London life to see how much effort had gone into making this letter appear off the cuff and funny.<br>
“‘We know that the true strength of local programming is the local people,’” she continued reading, stroking Miles as he climbed onto her thigh in search of affection. “‘And so, we’ve gone in search of the undiscovered stars of Gloucestershire. You are one of those stars.’'<br>
She tapped Miles on the nose. “Did you hear that? I’m an undiscovered star!”<br>
Miles sneezed on her hand. Ginger gave a long-suffering sigh and returned to the letter, wiping her hand off on her jeans.<br>
“‘Our talent scouts here at Breakline Entertainment found the mind-blowing baking talent you show on your social media absolutely amazing. We’re certain that your skills, as well as your looks, will test well with audiences. After finding out that you have also competed in several local baking contests and done rather well, we decided that you were a perfect contestant for our new baking and mystery-themed reality show!’ Hmm…”<br>
Ginger got to her feet and wandered over to the wooden kitchen table where she’d left her laptop. There were many red flags in the letter. She was concerned it was a scam. However, a brief search showed that Breakline Entertainment was a legitimate media company operating in Gloucestershire that produced genre-defying reality shows using local talent.<br>
Satisfied, she returned to the letter, moving over to the details. Using the same kind of overenthusiastic, peppy language, the letter detailed that the concept was a new one, and that this was an opportunity for her to be part of an exciting new pilot. <br>
The concept combined aspects of a murder mystery dinner party (an event which Ginger had always wanted to experience, never having had the chance to) and a baking challenge show in the vein of The Great British Bake Off.<br>
“Filming will take place at Arlington Manor this coming Saturday and Sunday, with the contestants arriving Friday afternoon and leaving Monday morning.” Ginger frowned. “This weekend? It’s Tuesday. That’s short notice.”<br>
Nina meowed in agreement as she wandered into the living room.<br>
“But it says the winner gets a cash prize as well as free publicity for their baking through the show,” Ginger called after the cat. “And God knows I could use both. Especially the cash.”<br>
She slumped back in the creaking wooden chair, only half-reading the final few lines filled with corporate babble about how she can’t discuss this opportunity with others due to copyright laws and that she has twenty-four hours to respond via post.<br>
It seemed like a good opportunity at first glance, even if the communication method and the guidelines were a little strange. The company was real, and she knew of Arlington Manor. It was a beautiful old manor house about an hour from the villages of Greater Chiswick and Little Chiswick where she lived, deep in the rolling hills of the Cotswolds.<br>
“It could be a chance to make a bit of a name for myself, Miles,” Ginger murmured. “I know I’ve got that job as a cook at Chiswick Park Academy all lined up, but if I won this competition mystery thing… hell, even if I just took part in it, it might convince Mum and Colin that I wasn’t insane for giving up everything in London and coming back here.”<br>
Miles carefully picked his way around the kitchen island and over to the kitchen table, his trajectory skewed slightly by his blindness. However, he reached the chair where Ginger was sitting and leapt lightly into her lap, immediately beginning to purr.<br>
“Thanks, baby,” Ginger murmured, taking a deep breath. Focusing on the softness of his fur under her fingers and the jazz still floating in from the turntable, she found her calm once more.<br>
“Well, I’ve still got a while to think about it,” she said, gently setting Miles on the floor and standing up, leaving the letter on the table. “Right now, I’m on a deadline to get this gingerbread ready for the quiz, and the cottage isn’t going to build itself.”<br>
After putting a new record on the turntable, Ginger washed her hands and took up her piping bags again. Soon she was lost in the music and the artistry of her creation. A soft breeze blew through the open patio doors, and Miles and Nina soaked up the sun of the summer evening, their ears occasionally flickering in response to the rise and fall of the music.<br>