Not to be indelicate about it, but if Mom made me eat one more bite of cake, I was going to throw up. I'd honestly ingested enough dessert in the last hour to sink a submarine with no end in sight.
Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother's baking. But a girl has her limits, and I had finally reached mine, groaning, burping softly around the chocolate, vanilla, red velvet, buttercream, and banana that swam on the surface of a variety of other flavors I'd rather not taste again in reverse.
With renovations of the new annex to Petunia's in full swing, Fiona's life might be more in order, but her habit of digging into criminal cases hasn't changed one bit. Doesn't help when her mother is on the suspect list, the death of a famous cooking show judge leading Fee into the dark side of bake offs, television, and murder.
