The Good, the Bad & the Bourbon: A Hot Cross Bun Ganache Mystery: The Hot Cross Bun Ganache Cozy Mysteries, #1

Chapter 1

It is a beautiful thing to remember somebody’s life and who they are. The captivating stories about a person’s family, successes, and accomplishments along with their regrets and obsessions. The obituaries make me reflect on the life I live and the choices I make and give insight into one case.

For reasons of my own, the story I devoured about Lavinia Bishop, whose body someone stumbled upon when they discovered an abandoned piece of luggage on the beach, engrossed me. She floated in the water in Pecan Cove, the drowsy village off the coast of Gibraltar that I call home.

I saw her with my own eyes. The police said she had many enemies because she stood at odds with most of the village cronies. The primary suspect was her boyfriend, Wells Calder, a surfer and boat polisher on the cove. I had my sights set higher, though.

Before I continue, let me backtrack to show you how I became involved with a murder victim.

I moved to Gibraltar to make a fresh start. A new house, job and vision for the future. It all started when my husband, Eric, met me at the Plaza Hotel on London’s Pickering Square. We’d dined at the classy restaurant many times to celebrate our anniversary, but this dinner was different. Nerves settled in my stomach, which puzzled me exceedingly. It wasn’t like a first date as we’d been married for eight years.

I tapped my nails against the dining room table, staring at the chandelier above my head. The crystals hurled patterns on the walls like stars. Soft violin strings played in my ears, mixed with the hum of voices from the crowded tables.

Eric swaggered to my side, running a hand through his smooth locks of fair hair. He leaned down to kiss me as usual. The only difference I noticed was his odd socks as his trousers rolled up when he sat down. He was always particular about clothing, that’s why I wore a little black dress for the occasion.

I knew from the slight flicker in his eyes a major announcement was coming, and I wasn’t wrong.

How was the bank today? I asked, hoping some normality might straighten out the issues between us. We’d been struggling for a while with our jobs, taking us in different directions.

Fab, he said in his deep, drawn-out tone. In fact, it’s better than ever. He rubbed the chair arm, an awkward silence persisting even being in the presence of all these strangers. My mind drew back to my bedroom at home. A lavender mist of tapestry, big cats, and boy bands. I heard my mum’s voice telling me, ‘Don’t fall for one of these baby-faced band types, whatever you do.’

Eric fit her description like one of their posters. Was he a teenage dream for me?

When I came round again, Eric waved in front of my face. Earth to Roxie.

I jumped. Sorry. Where were we?

He placed his hands on the table. Look, babes, let me cut to the core. As I see it, you’d agree we haven’t been working out. He uttered that dreaded expression, and he sounded so calm.

My eyes bulged, but a trapped nerve kept me from flinching. Oh, I guess so, I said, staring over his head as a waiter knocked a glass of wine down a woman’s lap, followed by a commotion of magnificent proportions. ‘But we’ll figure it out, yeah?’

I wasn’t known for giving up easily on anything, so I stood my ground, digging my heels into the polished floor.

Eric scratched his head. ‘Well...’

‘Sorry, are we on different wavelengths?’ I asked, feigning ignorance.

Eric shuffled. ‘I’m afraid so. I’ve met someone else.’

As the words hung in the air between us, the silence suffocated me. Years of memories flashed before my eyes - the laughter, the shared dreams, the quiet moments of comfort. But now, all that remained was a void, a sense of emptiness that seemed too vast to bridge.

Who is she? I asked, my numbness dissipating. Emma from accounts. Sasha from marketing. She was sizzling.

You don’t know her. We met on a business trip.

My eyes blazed with venom. So, how long has it been going on?

He shrugged. Does it matter?

Yes, I quit my job for you! I said, slamming my napkin on the table.

Why did you go and do that? he asked, his voice rising in intensity.

My being away a lot stifled our relationship, I said.

What are you planning on doing instead?

I planned to start the bakery business I’ve always dreamed about.

He wrinkled his nose. Come on, that’s never gonna take off.

What do you recommend I do?

Eat humble buns and beg for your job back, he said.

I narrowed my eyes. I’m not sure I want it back, I said, my mind racing back to the government meeting where they voted against me and made me appear foolish. I quit right there on the spot. I knew I’d made the right decision, and it wasn’t only for Eric’s sake, the way I made out it was to keep him.

He leaned across the table. Whatever you decide, I hope it works out for you.

I’ll always cherish what we had, I said, my voice barely above a whisper. But I guess it’s time for both of us to find our own happiness.

I won’t be staying for dinner, he whispered. And he was gone from my life for good. That’s how my marriage ended.

I didn’t stay for dinner, either. I sauntered to the park, my mascara running down my cheeks as I contemplated what had gone wrong.

The picturesque paradise aided my escape and relaxation, surrounding me with trees and a stream bubbling through it.

The fresh scent of autumn sat heady on my nostrils, but my ramblings were anything but tranquil as I strolled to a bench where I watched couples enjoying a romantic stroll and a few dog walkers passing by. I contemplated if they had similar troubles going through their minds and whether I would prefer to swap places with them, as their burdens would be easier to bear. I went through a hefty mix of emotions that evening.

At first, I got a sense of sadness and heartbreak at the loss of a relationship and the end of a marriage. Also, relief washed over me since the marriage wasn’t working and I was glad to move on with a new vision. Also, I was conscious of freedom, as I could now make my own choices and find happiness again.

I don’t know why I thought of Lavinia and her idyllic life in Gibraltar, but I remembered a sensation of calm when I went there.

The desolation increased when I got back to the apartment I shared with Eric to find him, and his belongings gone. I moped in the dark room contemplating what had gone so off-piste.

I concluded that a move had been in the water for a while, but it hadn’t surfaced until now.

After a lonely night in a cold bed, my thoughts not aiding my positivity, I hurried to get showered and changed and have breakfast so I could get to the estate agents.

I WANDERED ALONG THE main street where my apartment sat on the corner.

The enormous window of the estate agents beckoned to me and I stared through the glass showcasing a variety of homes.

Homes for sale in Gibraltar were few and it would be rarer to find a bakery for sale at the same time.

I crossed my fingers as I went inside.

I was greeted by a friendly realtor named Evelyn. With a warm smile, she guided me through the process of purchasing a business property.

There is an old property for sale that used to be an ice cream parlour in a town called Pecan Cove, she said after I explained about the cove.

My eyes lit up.

Don’t get too excited because it’s in terrible disrepair.

Can I see it? I asked, holding out my hand to take the details from her.

Yes, if you like, she said, pulling a face.

I glanced at the picture with a smile. You’re right, it needs a lot of work.

She gave me a told you so grin.

It’s worth it, though. It’s in the perfect spot, I said, reading the words Sea view.

She stared at me. Sure?

Absolutely. I’ll take it.

But you’ll need a house to go with it. There’s no living space there.

I intend to look for a property too.

She winced. I’m sorry. There’s nothing in Pecan Cove at the moment. But there’s one available in the city.

I put my hand up. It has to be Pecan Cove, I’m afraid.

She picked up a pen and jotted down my name and telephone number. I’ll be in touch if something becomes available for you.

With trembling hands, I signed the paperwork for the bakery.

MOVE TO GIBRALTAR! What on earth for? my mother said when I broke the news while sitting on her sofa.

It won’t be just yet. I have to find a house, first.

Not ever. What will I do with you so far away.

I grimaced. My relationship with my mother had been a prickly one ever since my father left us. I blamed her sometimes for driving him away as I was close to him and I missed him terribly growing up. It wasn’t like she was decrepit, either. You’ll manage.

As I uttered the words, my mobile buzzed. It was Evelyn. She’d finally found me a house. There was no need to delay anymore and risk being persuaded to stay by my mother.

I can see you’ve made up your mind, my mother said when I hung up and flashed her a beaming smile.

It sounds fantastic, I said. I’ll have to see it first, of course.

WITH ALL MY POSSESSIONS packed into the moving van outside, I glanced around the minimal apartment for the last time. It used to have all the amenities I needed, and I was proud of it. The layout was open and bright, with a kitchen, living room and bedroom all in the same area. It served as our sanctuary for the duration of our marriage. I made it mine with various decorations, furniture, and a window seat with a view of the park. I loved watching the seasons change through it.

Although the breakup was mutual, it was hard to go through. My ex was a nice and wonderful guy, but it was not meant to work out. I have moved on and I’m looking to the future to use my passion for baking to start my small business.

I have always adored baking for others. My dream has always been to open my bakery where I could share my love of pastries. After a few years of saving, and the settlement after my divorce, I achieved my dream and opened my bakery in Pecan Cove.

I chose Gibraltar, not only because of my past associations with the area, but also because the warmer climate suited me.

With a heavy sigh I drove away from the apartment, leaving my old life behind.

I tapped my thumbs on the steering wheel to the tune of my favourite song of all time, ‘All of Me’ by John Legend. The pleasing melody and lyrics conveyed a love so deep and profound that it can never be broken, even in the toughest of times.

How powerful an emotion love is. It reminded me to never lose hope, no matter what life may throw our way. I kept this in the rear of my mind as I was distracted by the mundane matters of money, design materials, etcetera.

I had a lot to do with this move.

The house I chose has a rustic charm with a straight path, a lawn area, white panels and navy shutters on the windows.

I discovered Gibraltar was a unique and crucial place in terms of British territory on the Southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula. Its location and size make it a strategic place for military and political reasons. A rich history of being a trade hub and being controlled by various countries awaited me.

To me Pecan Cove is a charming, welcoming place to live in the South, tucked away in a rural setting, surrounded by lush emerald fields, pine tree woods, and a beautiful turquoise cove. It is a place where you can get a sense of the small-town charm and enjoy a peaceful and relaxed vibe. My village smells like fresh air, with a hint of flowers and herbs. It tastes like summer evenings, with the scent of a fresh breeze blowing through the trees and of cut grass and flowers. A hint of sweetness, like honeydew, and ripe berries, also permeates the air. In the winter, the scents shift to wood burning fires and the crispness of nature. A few small shops made up the village. A greengrocer, a butcher, and a few other local businesses. You had to travel to the consecutive town for a doctor or a dentist. A cobbled walkway and foot bridge connected the various districts. The houses are made of stone and wood, with thatched roofs and adorable gardens filled with colourful flowers, much like the farmhouse abodes in books.

As I unloaded furniture into my house, a woman about ten years younger than me at twenty-eight with short, stylish hair jogged past. She halted and backtracked when she saw the van. I’m Fern. I live down the road. Need any help? she asked, her round, fern-green eyes creasing in a friendly way.

I smiled. Hi, I’m Roxie. I preferred to do things my way, but if I wanted to get along with the neighbours, here was a great start. Sure, Fern, I said, waving her over.

She joined me, jogging on the spot as I instructed her which boxes to unpack. She stalked behind the removal men along the path to the inside of the house and set to work. In the kitchen with wooden cabinets and drawers, we unpacked the all-important utensils for my new business.

The woman who lived here before has gone to a residential home. She was a sweet woman and you’re going to be like her, she said as she loaded bowls into a cupboard.

Aww. Thanks, Fern.

I’m an expert judge of character, she said, her sentences fluttering out of her.

I blinked as rapidly as a cheetah. Actually, I planned to keep the bowls together in the bottom cupboard. It works best that way...

She murmured disagreements that reminded me of a group of starlings in synchronised flight. I guess she could see I wasn’t backing down, so she complied with my request.

I’m not an organised person, she said.

My eyes trailed off. Since being bullied at school, I could be too much of a perfectionist. I focused so much on wanting circumstances to be perfect that I didn’t take the time to appreciate and enjoy the moment. I suppose that’s why I work alone.

A pink shade caught my eye from the kitchen window, and I glanced out to investigate. A woman of about seventy-five with a blonde bob streaked with pink highlights, dark eyebrows and pink shades to go with her tight leggings, startled me. Not much less her position as she stood on her head in the yard at the house joined to mine. Who’s that? I asked, nodding toward her.

Fern came over and leaned across the sink to get a better view. She laughed. That’s Gladys, and don’t worry, she’s a fan of yoga, but she’s quite normal.

Ah, it’s a sirsasana head position, I said.

You’ll soon get used to our ways here, Fern said.

I made us a cup of tea and placed a sample of my home baked hot cross buns in various flavours on a plate.

Ooh, they look fantastic, Fern said when I carried them into the living room after leaving some refreshments with the delivery men outside.

The room was spacious, with a fireplace as the focal point of the living area.

Fern held her finger to her chin as she surveyed the round dough buns. I’d drizzled the strawberry sundae mix in candied apple red ganache with white chocolate drops and freeze-dried strawberries instead of raisins. Next to that was a millionaire’s shortbread themed bun. I also selected a banana and peanut butter bake with a banana flavoured buttercream piped in the middle and caramel and peanut icing. Fern chose my personal favourite of Tahini butter with an added crunch of pistachios and pillow-soft Chantilly cream.

My first customer, I said after telling her about the bakery.

You’ve bought the old ice cream place on the seafront, she said before taking a huge bite of a sticky bun.

Yes, it’s the perfect spot to make my dream a reality.

I hope it works out for you, she said after swallowing the mouthful. These are so yummy, by the way. You’ll see me often.

I hope to get a good clientele going. You’ll have to put a word in for me.

Oh, the locals will love it, She said when I told her about my plans.

A pause followed as I licked a blob of chantilly cream off my finger. So, what else should I know about your ways here? I asked, thinking back to our conversation in the kitchen.

Fern’s eyes trailed as she chewed on some dough. It’s a different life here. You’ll have to experience it to get the full sense of what I’m talking about. It’s like a country all of its own.

As I settled in, I soon got to grips with what Fern was talking about.

ONCE MY HOUSE WAS IN order, I began applying the