A Burned Out Baker: Classic Diner Mystery #7 (The Classic Diner Mysteries) (Volume 7)
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A BURNED OUT BAKER, Book 7 in the Classic Diner mystery series, from New York Times Bestselling Author Jessica Beck! Barry Jackson’s bakery is burned to the ground, with the baker still inside, soon after a fiery confrontation with Moose and Victoria, and the pair must solve the murder before their reputations, and their freedom, go up in smoke!
you,” Moose said flatly. “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way that it is.” “Okay then,” I said as I opened the door and got out. “What did you just say to me?” Moose asked me as he leaned toward the open window. “I just agreed with you,” I said as I started to go in. “Victoria, don’t be that way.” “What way?” I asked as sweetly as I could manage. “What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right.” He looked even more troubled by that reaction. “I don’t like this, not one little bit. Whenever
her. “Bless you. Give me two minutes and I’ll be there.” After I hung up, I said, “She’ll be here in two minutes.” “Victoria, can you stay with her until Elizabeth gets here?” “Sure,” I said, puzzled by my grandfather’s request. “What are you going to do?” “I have to see about that fire,” he said. “Just let it burn,” Susan whimpered. “Victoria, we can’t take a chance of letting it burn out of control,” Moose said as he tried to disengage from her grip. Susan wasn’t having it, though.
time working there to take my mind off murder. Things had a tendency of getting intense when Moose and I were investigating crime, and it was a nice break when I got a chance to return to my old routines. Besides, I might even be able to come up with our game plan for later if I got lucky. It worked that way sometimes. Actively forgetting about suspects, motives, and clues allowed my subconscious mind to chew on the case while I was involved doing something else. Hopefully this time it would work
grandfather’s pickup truck. Contrary to what my grandfather had told me over the phone, a small fire truck was still there, and Luke Yates, our fire chief, was manning the sole remaining hose himself. My family and I were seeing a great deal of the fire chief lately, and not under the most pleasant of circumstances. “How bad is it?” I asked as I approached him. “I don’t think he’ll ever drive it again, but try telling him that. He’s already called Wayne to come tow it into his shop, and the
can have breakfast, for all I care,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I spent half the night trying to come up with something, but I didn’t have any luck at all.” “I’ve got a few ideas, but they need a little more time to simmer. Breakfast sounds like a fine idea to me.” Moose found a booth, and I turned to Martha. “Why don’t you join him? Ellen and I will be glad to take care of you.” “I can do it myself,” Martha said as she refused to sit. “Nonsense. At least let me serve you while I’m