He indicated a cheerful-looking coffee shop called Sunshine Bakery.

“That place over there is where we’re going first,” he said. “It’s run by Patty Horne. She was friends with at least three of the victims.”

The Sunshine Bakery was a painfully adorable small-town kind of business, painted in a half dozen varieties of yellow, from a pale buttery color to a lemon, all the way to a near-orange that mirrored the namesake sun. It had several glass cabinets of genuinely astonishing cakes on display—real works of art, detailed and sculpted. Janelle was drawn to them at once like a moth to a flame.

Behind the counter was a woman with dusty blond hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore loose distressed jeans and a blue apron. She looked to be somewhere in her fifties, and seemed lost in thought, examining a list.

“Morning!” she said, looking a bit surprised. “Camp already? I thought the counselors were coming tomorrow?”

“These guys are special,” Carson said before anyone else could answer. “This is Stevie Bell. She was the one who solved those murders at Ellingham Academy back in the fall.”

“Oh,” Patty Horne said. Stevie could tell she didn’t really know the story but was being polite and acting like she was trying to remember the details. “Wow. That’s impressive. And you’re . . . going to be counselors?”

“Yup!” Carson said quickly. “Here to grab some coffee and . . .”

He stared at the display of baked goods under glass as if he were looking at a collection of captive spiders.

“. . . muffins? Or whatever you want. I don’t drink coffee or eat sugar.”

Stevie looked around the room, at the framed historical photos of Barlow Corners over the years, along with some portraits of an older man. Janelle was closely examining the bakery case, where three small cakes were on display. One was baby blue, with a delicate pattern of raised white edging, like Wedgwood china. There was one that was covered in butterflies, and a third that was in the form of an exploding volcano.

“Your cakes are beautiful,” Janelle said. “The detail is incredible.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “Those are samples I did for a wedding this week. They came out really well, so I’ve left them up for display.”

“How did you even make those butterflies?”

“They’re sugar,” Patty said. “Are you interested in decorating cakes? Here. I’ll show you up close.”

She removed the cakes from the case and set them on the counter.

“For this one here,” she said, indicating the blue cake, “it’s designed as a replica of a Wedgwood plate the bride’s grandmother got for her own wedding.”

“How did you get that detail?”

“For that one, I made silicone molds of the actual plate.”

Janelle’s eyes almost glowed at the words silicone molds.

“Oh no,” Nate said quietly. “She’s getting a new craft.”

There was no denying it. Janelle Franklin had never met a craft that she didn’t love.