One Cup Of Flour Two Cups Of Murder (Winnona Peaks Mysteries Book 2) by Emily Page

bed.”
     
    “Yea, I need to get back to the coffee shop and―.” 
     
    “Well, well, well.”  Cornelia and Terrance Westbrook walked in.  Cornelia looked like a cat ready to finish off a mouse she’d been torturing.  Terrance had a sweater crossed over his shoulders and offered the weak smile of someone just stepping off their yacht after an excursion.
     
    “Hello, Mrs. Westbrook.  What can I do for you?” Fiona asked.
     
    Waving an envelope in the evening light she chimed, “You can get out of my bakery.”  The words EVICTED were scrawled in black magic marker.  Fiona could see that the lease agreement inside the envelope had similar lettering.
     
    “But, but―I’ve done everything you’ve asked?  I’ve even made improvements. I’m just one month behind.”
     
    “Ms. Westbrook, this isn’t how eviction works. There has to be notice and—,” Christy tried to explain.
     
    “Oh, mark my words.  You won’t be in business here for long.  Just wait until Winnona Peaks gets a load of what’s down the street,” Terrance said with a yawn and a sly grin.
     
    “Now, Terrance, there’s no need to let the cat out of the bag.  All we have to do here is just a basic rule of business.” Cornelia piped up.
     
    Christy was getting a bad feeling about Cornelia.   “So what is this basic rule of business?” she asked, with her arms crossed.
     
    “Something you know little about, Ms. Roberts.”  Cornelia said with a smile. “To make it big in business, you need to eliminate the competition.  This is just my way of cutting down the number of bakeries fighting for my customers.”  Turning to Fiona she said, “Don’t worry about getting rid of your inventory.  Just get out.”
     
    Gregory shook his head, but he wasn’t a cop anymore and a crooked business owner back in Dallas had already given him the short end of the stick.  He didn’t want to get mixed up in another mess again, even if he did feel sorry for Fiona.

Chapter 14
     
    Cornelia was ready for them. There was no way they were going to pull the wool over her eyes.  She knew that scheming little Fiona planned to steal her grandmother’s bakery right out from under her.  She couldn’t sleep and she’d given Robert, her chauffeur, the night off.  At least Terrance was there at the estate with her so she decided to do some patrolling of the area to check on her properties.  More than once she’d had to call the sheriff to come haul off some vagrant sleeping in the doorways of one of her shops.   She didn’t care what the city said; she didn’t need to improve the buildings just for them to do their job when she called.  It was a good thing she was in the habit of wandering around at night.  She saw that baker from the bake-off and the coffee shop owner drive up from her window. 
     
    “Pull over there, Terrance.”
     
    “Oh, but Grandmother, my show is about to―,” Terrance whined.
     
    “Pull over.  You might learn a thing or two,” she ordered. Luckily, she kept a small folder of urgent legal matters in her attaché.  She was going to have to deal with the Dillard man soon about buying Westbrook Manor and needed to make sure she had all of her affairs in order.   Cornelia suspected that Fiona was up to something from the start. Agreeing to all the terms of that lease without even batting an eye—no business owner is that naïve. Her grandmother taught her to watch everyone like a hawk. Once they know you have something, all the snakes try to slither up the drainpipe and take it away. Cornelia just wished Terrance were taking notes. He seemed to think money came to him from a giant tooth fairy leaving cash under his pillow every night.
     
    Her grandmother taught her to cut off the head of the first viper that comes your way and that will send a warning to the rest of them to keep their mitts off of all your stuff. Cornelia remembered the third bake-off all those years ago. Her grandmother, Nellie,