Chapter 3When she was certain he’d had enough time to close the bedroom door, Sue opened her eyes. Something may not be burning now, but she was certain something had recently. She followed the scent wafting from the kitchen and found the source of the stench in the sink. Clearly, Jack had cut away the charred edges of -- well, something, and then slathered thick icing on top to cover up the evidence. Sue chuckled and swiped a finger full of frosting.
He touched her shoulder and she jumped. “SORRY,” he signed, running his fist in circle over his chest, where his shirt was not yet completely buttoned. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I see you found my cinnamon rolls. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in the park this morning. I saw you ogling that picture of them yesterday.”
“What did you say?”
“Ogling.” He said again as he finger-spelled the word. “You know, ogle, to look or to stare.” He followed her line of sight to his chest and grinned. Tipping her chin up, he added, “Or eye flirtatiously.”
Did he realize what he was doing to her? Between the woodsy scent of his cologne, the slightly damp, tousled hair, the unbuttoned shirt and the death-by-chocolate eyes, she could scarcely form a coherent thought. She bit her lip. “The frosting is good,” she finally managed.
He stepped back and laughed. “What brought you here so early anyway?”
“Actually, Levi wanted to take you out to buy some cinnamon rolls for the office.”
He rubbed the golden’s head. “Thanks, Levi. You’re always thinking of me, but now we won’t have to go buy any. We’ll just take these.” He washed his hands in the sink and dried them on a kitchen towel.
“Jack, thank you for the gesture. It’s very sweet of you to go to all this work, so don’t get me wrong, but are they . . . a . . . edible?” She giggled at the shocked expression on his face.
Laughing, he tossed the towel at her. Sue caught it mid-air and snapped him with the tail of it. “Remember, I have brothers.”
“Oh, so you want to play that game.” He pulled a second towel off the counter, and rolled it into a “rat tail”.
“Don’t you dare hit me with that!” she warned, backing against the wall.
“You started it. Remember, I have two sisters. Rat tails are my specialty.” He snapped the towel in the air. “I can’t believe you asked if they are edible. I’ll have you know this is my mother’s recipe.”
“But she wasn’t the one baking them.” She laughed infectiously.
“For that you have to take the first bite.” He discarded the towel and tore off the least charred piece. It oozed with icing. He approached her slowly.
“Did I tell you I’ve just developed diabetes?” she teased.
Another step.
“That much sugar could send me into a coma.”
He held it to her lips. “Open up or wear it. It’s your choice.”
“The latter may be safer.”
He pulled her to him in one swift motion and she opened her mouth in shock. He plopped the morsel in and touched her nose with frosting still clinging to his blistered finger.
She chewed the bite, then dramatically brought her hand to her throat and feigned choking.
“That is soooo not funny.”
She swallowed. “Then, why are you laughing?”
“Aren’t you the little ingrate this morning? I even burned my finger for you.” He held up the offending finger.
Compassion immediately flooded her face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Taking his hand in hers, she examined the finger and kissed it. “There. All better.”
He fought the urge to tell him he’d burnt his lips, too, but wasn't how he wanted their first real kiss to be. “So, what did you really think about the cinnamon rolls?”
“They’re good.”
“Honest.”
“Jack, don’t push it.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I tell you, he’ll eat anything,” Jack insisted, stepping off the elevator with Sue. “Bobby will have them gone before Myles even gets one.”
“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Or ridiculed.”
“There is that.”
He held the door for her. “I can take a little razzing.”
Myles turned as they entered. “Well, well, well. Our illustrious leader is a tad late this morning. However, we might excuse him as he appears to come bearing gifts of the culinary kind.”
“You brought treats, Sparky?”
“Cinnamon rolls. Still warm. My mom’s recipe.”
Myles lifted the corner of the foil covering them. “Jack, the smoke alarm is not a timer.”
Bobby elbowed him out of the way. “They can’t be that bad.” He attempted to tear one away from the others, but it held fast.
Tara appeared beside him with a knife. “Let’s try this.” She pushed the knife into the indention, but it wouldn’t sink beyond the mounds of frosting.
“Let me try, luv.” Using more strength, he managed to saw his way through. He scraped away the frosting with the knife, revealing the darkened tops of the rolls. Bobby whooped with laughter. “Ole Sparky strikes again. Did you make these over an open flame or what?”
Jack jerked the knife from his friend. “They’re just a little overdone.” He cut through the other side and took a bite. His teeth jarred, and the room convulsed with laughter.
“Maybe Levi would like one, “ Sue offered, taking it from Jack. She set it in Levi’s dish, and the dog crunched it happily. “See, he likes it.”
“Don’t get me started on the things Levi is willing to put in his mouth,” Myles quipped.
D walked in the room and spotted them around the treats. “Oh, who made these?”
“Jack, and unless you have a death wish, I suggest you pass,” Sue said with a giggle.
“Thank you, Benedict Thomas. Okay, fun-at-Jack’s-expense time is over.” He replaced the foil on the pan. “Don’t we have some murders to solve?” He stepped up to the white board, and the group managed to reign in their laughter. “Tara, tell us what you found out about Champagne?”
“One sister is in California and the other in Texas. The authorities were still trying to notify them. She’s been a student at L’Academie de Cuisine for a year. Good student, too. I’ve got her phone records now. No numbers are the same as those of our other two victims.”
“What do we know about them? Can anyone see any patterns?” He glanced at the board and saw the names and photos posted: a brunette named Helen Christianson and a dark haired woman named Connie Kiyosaki.
“None of them look a bit alike,” Bobby admitted. “The first victim was married and the second was engaged. Champagne wasn’t even seeing anyone that we know of.”
Sue leaned against her desk. “Other than all being students at the L’Academie, they had nothing in common.”
“Did they take the same classes?”
Tara checked her notes. “No, they were all at different stages.”
“Well, it looks like one of us will be headed to cooking school. Sparky, you apparently could use the help.”
Jack smiled along with the rest of them. “Actually, I think we all need to go.”
Bobby nearly choked on his coffee. “Listen, mate, my idea of cooking is buttering toast.”
Myles cleared his throat. “This is one assignment for which I am well suited although I may be overqualified.”
Bobby clapped him on the back. “There, let’s let Mr. Humble do it.”
D stepped to the center of the room. “Jack’s right. You all need to go undercover. I spoke to the school’s president, and he’s anxious to get to the bottom of this. He has students who want to drop out already.”
“Can you blame them?” Sue asked.
“No, I can’t. So, since the victims were all enrolled in different programs, we’ll put you all in them as well. Myles can go in the advanced classes. Bobby and Tara, we’ll put you in the beginner’s courses, and Jack and Sue, can go in the couples classes. That should cover all our bases.”
Tara tapped her fluffy pen on the desk. “Except we don’t know who or what we’re looking for.”
“Still no cause of death?”
“Poison of some sort. Dr. Cirulis is just having a hard time figuring it out.”
“Tell Gracie Cirulis it only takes an hour on television to get a cause of death,” Bobby joked.
“And she’ll tell you it only takes an hour to solve a crime, too,” Myles added.
“Bobby, call her and use your charm. Maybe you can speed her up. Tara, can you arrange the undercover classes? Myles, can you get us the supplies and books we’ll need to start. Sue, something bothering you?”
“What about Amanda and Jason? They’ll recognize you and me from our interview.”
D nodded. “They would have, but the director has given them two weeks off to deal with Champagne’s death.”
Myles rubbed his palms together. “Well, then, let’s get cooking.”
A collective moan filled the room, and Jack shook his head. "This could be a very long case."
Haven't thought about green M&M's since college days!
I could totally picture that whole scene! 
)
Jack thats to close to home you now need to tell
? 
Trying to pretend she didn't want to look! 
Very cute and the banter between them 
My only complaint is that you blistered his fingers. 
Did you really have to go to that extreme? He might need them for something important later. 
I might be consious in a few minutes.. maybe
Jack and his cinnamon rolls had me in stitches.
maybe Bobby could handle the bar b? And of course the professional