Death by Chocolate Cake: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

face down. Time to get this interview over with, quickly.
    Jackson didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to the point, however. He was twiddling his thumbs and shifting in his seat, trying to get into a more comfortable position. I didn't blame him. It was plastic and from the thrift store. Still.
    "I didn't see anything," I volunteered, hoping that might move things along more quickly.
    Jackson frowned. "Well, that's not a very good start, unfortunately."
    I supposed it wasn't, but he was confusing me. From my experience—and I had a lot of it—the cops usually do most of the questioning in these situations. But it was me that had to ask Jackson what exactly was going on.
    That's when I saw it. The faintest of eye rolls and a look on his face as though he'd rather be anywhere else, asking anyone anything else other than what he was about to ask me.
    Suddenly, I got it.
    But I wanted to hear him say it.
    "Rachael," he started to say, every syllable dripping with reluctance. "This has to stay quiet, you understand? Unofficial."
    "What does?" I still needed to know what he was 'unofficially' asking me.
    Jackson swallowed. "Any...involvement, of yourself. In this case."
    I opened my eyes wide, acting like I was shocked by the proposition. "You want me to be involved in the case?"
    "As I said. Unofficially."
    I leaned back in my seat. I could barely control the satisfaction emanating from me. "Well, well, well. This is a first." I leaned forward and stared at him, a little more serious now. "Does anyone else at the station know that you are asking me this?"
    Perhaps it was going to be our little secret.
    "Emma does," Jackson replied. "Detective Crawford," he added, in case I was confused about who he was referring to. I wasn't. "It was actually her suggestion."
    Oh.
    I was feeling slightly less satisfied. "I will have to think about it."
    Jackson looked surprised. Not just surprised. Disappointed. "You seemed pretty happy about it a second ago."
    Even with the screen face down against the desk, I could see it flashing every couple of minutes with a new text. I had to go see Justin.
    Jackson didn't need to know that I was already investigating the case. In that moment, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of saying yes. Especially when it had been his girlfriend's suggestion. I mean, I knew it was petty, but in my opinion, he was being petty as well—even pointing out that it was Emma's suggestion. Couldn't he at least have pretended that he was on board with the scheme?
    I stood up and pulled on my coat. Big mistake. The mercury was already rising. It was hot in that cramped office even in just a blouse, let alone a heavy coat. But I needed to show Jackson that I needed to leave.
    "I'll have to think about it," I said.
    Jackson stood up after me. "What is there to think about?"
    I shrugged. "I don't know if I want to get involved in all this stuff again. Especially with my reality TV career about to start."
    Jackson just stared at me. "Is this really what this is about? You care more about being famous than helping us catch a killer? You care more about your image than justice?"
    I placed my hands on my hips. He wasn't right, of course—I was lying—but I didn't like his self-righteous indignation considering I was pretty sure I knew why he was there. "It's a bit rich to accuse me of caring more about image than justice when there's only one reason you're here, begging me for my help."
    "I'm not begging!"
    "And that reason is that you are concerned about the image of the police force. Especially with yet ANOTHER killer running around." I waited for him to dare to argue with that.
    He let out a little scoff. "And you think that you running around solving this crime is GOOD for our image? If I really cared about any of that, why would I be asking you for help?"
    "Secretly asking me," I pointed out. "Unofficially."
    His neck seemed to tense up. "Like I said, it's not a good look."
    Fine. So he was happy to ask for my help