Chapter 31

A TWIST IN THE TALE

Alchemy Bakeries Corporate Office, Los Angeles, California, United States

Since Sherlock Holmes and King Rudolf couldn’t take Gen’s case until they finished their current one, she decided to accompany them. Also, any chance to observe the great detective team was valuable for Gen. They both brought a different skill set to their work and it was incredibly impressive to watch.

Sherlock was calculated and fact-based. Conversely, Rudolfus Sweetwater was flippant and guided by emotions. Between the two styles, they had a one hundred percent track record for solving their cases. That gave Gen a lot of hope, since she really needed their help to figure out who framed her.

As Gen and the detectives entered through the back storage area of Alchemy Bakeries corporate office, they were greeted by a sight that was both wondrous and surreal. The expansive room stretched out before them, its walls lined with towering shelves that seemed to disappear into the distant, shimmering horizon. Each shelf was laden with an array of magical ingredients, their colors and textures so vivid and diverse that they seemed to defy the very laws of nature.

Glowing jars of pixie dust sat alongside barrels of shimmering, iridescent mermaid scales. Boxes of dragon fruit, their skins a deep, fiery red, were stacked precariously atop crates of strange, speckled eggs. The air was thick with the mingled scents of a thousand different spices and essences. There was the sharp, peppery aroma that wafted from a pile of a dark ground substance. It mixed strangely with the sweet, potent fragrance of a purple spice sitting next to it.

As Gen’s eyes adjusted to the otherworldly glow that filled the room, she noticed the flurry of activity taking place amidst the shelves. Dozens of tiny fairies flitted about, their wings a blur with speed and light as they went about their work. Some were busy cataloging the inventory, their small hands deftly sorting and arranging the various ingredients with a precision that bordered on obsessive. Others darted back and forth between the shelves, their arms laden with jars and bottles that seemed far too large for their petite frames.

Despite the whimsy and wonder of the scene before her, Gen couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that prickled at the back of her neck. There was something off about the fairies’ movements, a frantic energy that bordered on desperation. Their usually melodic voices were hushed and strained, and their eyes darted nervously about the room as if searching for some unseen threat.

As Gen and the detectives made their way deeper into the storage area, the shelves seemed to press in on them, the ingredients taking on a more sinister aspect. Jars of pickled kraken eyes leered at them from the shadows, while bundles of dried banshee hair rustled and sighed in an unseen breeze. The very air seemed to hum with a strange, harsh energy. There was definitely a palpable sense of wrongness in the area that set Gen’s teeth on edge.

She exchanged a glance with Sherlock and King Rudolf, their expressions mirroring her own growing sense of unease. Something was very wrong here… And as they delved deeper into the heart of the magical bakery’s corporate office, Gen knew that they were drawing ever closer to the dark truth that lay at the center of the murder mystery. With each step, the tension mounted, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon them like a physical force, urging them forward into the unknown depths of the mystery that awaited them.

“Ummm… Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said at their backs, making all three spin around. Before them stood a woman with almost black hair. Her skin was the color of the dark peppery spices they’d passed. Her large brown eyes were full of curiosity but mixed with skepticism. “I’m sorry, but this area is for employees of Enchant—I mean, Alchemy Bakeries.”

“We are detectives here to investigate the string of deaths at the various Alchemy Bakeries,” Sherlock said, with an air of authority.

“Oh, well, I guess that’s okay,” the woman said, smiling politely. “But I should alert our CEO so that he’s aware that you’re here. He can answer your questions as well.”

“That would be helpful,” King Rudolf said, taking a sip from his flask. “But we also have questions that you can answer for us. It’s usually the employees who see what’s most valuable to these cases. So let’s start with the most important question.”

“Which is?” the woman asked, straightening her apron nervously. It had the Alchemy Bakeries logo printed on the front and was over a chef’s uniform.

“Who are you?” the king of the fae asked.

Like she was relieved that this was a question she knew how to answer, the woman blew out a breath. “I’m Cocoa Twist.”

King Rudolf glanced sideways at Sherlock and then Gen. “Anyone else find that name a bit ironic?”

Cocoa laughed easily. “I get that all the time. My parents can’t figure out if I went into baking because of the name or if they named me that because I was destined to be a baker.”

“And what is your position here at the corporate office of Alchemy Bakeries?” Sherlock questioned.

“I’m a junior baker in training,” the woman answered. “I haven’t been here long, but I’m hoping to make it through the testing and be awarded the title fully.”

“How very ambitious of you,” King Rudolf said, screwing the cap on his flask.

“Can you tell us where you keep the levain you send out to the various bakeries?” King Rudolf asked, pocketing his flask and looking around. “Better yet, show us where you keep it?”

“I can tell you that it’s kept in the locked storage at the back there.” Cocoa pointed. “But I can’t show you it. Only upper management has access to it since it’s a very old levain and worth a fortune. That’s what Alchemy Bakeries is famous for and many want to get their hands on it.”

“Yes, until they do and find themselves dead,” Gen muttered, giving the detectives a quizzical look.

“And who exactly is upper management?” Sherlock asked.

“There you are,” a woman called, striding over, an angry look on her face. “Cocoa, you set the oven wrong on the test batches. I thought I taught you how to use our ovens, but you’ve messed it up yet again.”

Cocoa blushed with embarrassment. Then she held out a hand to the woman with brown hair and a boxy build. She wore an apron too, but her chef uniform was a little different—a bit more regal. “Here’s one of them now,” Cocoa said. “This is my boss and senior baker, Ginger Snaps.”