The Christmas Bake Off Heist

"Ugh…" Jonah sighed, walking into Kazarian's Bakery. "It's too early for this."

Jonah was the only investigator from St. Petersburg P.D. that appeared to be there. Walking into the back of the bakery, it was obvious that the burglar, or burglars, made entry from the rear. He could see the pry marks and broken door jam. It seemed pedestrian enough, except for the deactivated alarm system. Jonah looks to one of the senior patrol officers, an older officer by the name of Tommy Flanagan.

"So, what's missing?" he asked the pot bellied, nearly retired, patrol cop.

"So far, the only thing mother Kazarian noticed gone is a container with what she calls a secret ingredient. It was over here," Tommy pointed out a spot on a rack.

The rack was glass encased and alarmed. Whatever the secret ingredient was, it must be special to warrant its' own casing and an alarm system. Jonah looked over the alarm to the rack. The Trident Sixty-Four-Thirty was used by science labs, pharmaceutical labs and for storing dangerous chemicals. Why, wondered Jonah, would the Kazarian family spend a small fortune to protect ingredients from baked goods?

"Did the old woman say what it was?" asked Jonah.

"No, just that it was special."

The Armenians, Jonah hated dealing with the Armenians. They weren't known for being cooperative with the police and frequently were in the midst of a turf war for control of the ports. Whomever it was that broke into their business, Jonah knew, was courting disaster.

"I'll canvas the rest of the businesses in the area. See if anybody else has found damage or anything missing," announced Tommy. "What will you do?"

"I'm going to go talk to Marcus Ruhl. Even the Armenians can't run game on the ports without him knowing about it. He is opening a new business on the opposite end of town. I should be able to find him there," said Jonah as he walked out of the small baked goods shop.

Twenty minutes later Jonah was sitting in his cruiser in the middle of the industrial zone in St. Petersburg. Marcus had two of his guys working on the front of the shop. Marcus, no doubt, would be inside. Jonah watched a mom and two children coming out of the shop, laughing and giggling. An older woman, using a walker came out and walked the other direction. Two beat cops came strolling out a few minutes later, each with a coffee and a pastry in hand.

"Marcus has gone native," Jonah said to himself. "Interesting…"

Jonah walked into the shop, having recognized the two men giving the front of the shop a facelift. One of them was Cody Karr, a professional thief, break in artist and electronics specialist. Cody was just the type of man needed, needed to get past high-end alarms.

"Can I help you, sir?" a young girl asked from behind the counter.

She was a cute little thing. Her slight Armenian accent was obvious. What then, was she doing working for the king of the ports?

"I'll take a coffee, very strong. Maybe one of those fancy pastries and if it's not too much trouble," he hesitated, seeing Marcus come out of the storeroom behind the counter.

"Jonah Locke," said the forties looking rough neck behind the counter.

"Marcus, have you got a minute?"

"You can have the coffee," Marcus told him, "And the pastry. Anything else, I think I'll have to call my lawyer."

Jonah was out of luck. Marcus seemed to know he was on a case and no doubt, the reason for his visit. Jonah stood there, patiently, as Marcus attempted a tense stare down with the St. Petersburg detective. Jonah attempted to keep his gaze while he watched the rest of the shop, making mental notes. If he were to find out what their involvement was, he would have to do it off books and try to build something around whatever he found.

"Don't forget, Mira, our fine officers of the St. Petersburg Police get free coffee and pastries. It's the least we can do," Marcus sarcastically said as the young Armenian girl put the pastry on a plate and the cup of coffee down.

Jonah took a couple bucks and set it on the counter. "Then I guess you can call that a tip."

Later, after midnight, Jonah came back to the new bakery. The name was on the side of the building, M.R. Bakers. Jonah waited until there was no traffic before getting out of the cruiser, crow bar in hand. He was wearing a black P Coat, hat and gloves as he hurried down the alleyway. Jonah looked over his shoulder as he disappeared between two buildings. He found the side entrance to M.R. Bakers and after looking at the lock, realized he could easily pick it.

The door effortlessly opened. Jonah was surprised to see that Marcus left things so easily accessed. Inside, he realized, he was in the storeroom and much to his amazement the storeroom was just that, a run of the mill storage room with shelves, supplies and pre-prepared baked goods. After looking around the store, he prepared to leave. That was when he heard the voice of Marcus Ruhl, the king of the ports.

"Breaking and entering, a warrantless search," Marcus sighed, standing behind Jonah. "Amigo, you'll be working for me if you don't end up in jail."

"I'd sooner be homeless," Jonah said, turning to face an armed storeowner. He knew Marcus could have shot him as a burglar. He wondered why he was still alive.

"Sit down detective," he told Jonah.

Jonah walked over to the tables in the middle of the store. Tentatively, he took a seat as Marcus came in behind him, calling for Mira. Marcus sat down across from Jonah, his pistol still pointed at Jonah's chest.

"This is about the Kazarian burglary," said Marcus.

Mira walked into the room. She was the same Mira that was working behind the counter earlier in the day. The girl was obviously sleeping there, having come from a room behind the store. She was wearing sweats, a tee shirt and no shoes. She looked like she was awakened by his calling her name.

"This...is Mira Kazarian. I think she can explain everything."

"Any chance you're going to put the gun away?" Jonah asked, resting his hands on the table in front of him.

Mira set a container in front of the detective, wiping her eyes as she did. It was filled with a yellow flower with reddish specks throughout the container. Jonah wondered if this was the missing container from Momma Kazarians'. He was still at a loss and not dealing from a position of power. Making demands did not seem like the right way to go.

"Yes, I stole the container. I created the mix and momma took credit for it," said Mira.

"What is it?"

Mira went on to explain that she was the brains behind Kazarian's Bakery. Mira had been the baker and the one to market the bakeries to the state of Florida. They were rapidly expanding and momma had not paid her a cent, making her live like a pauper as the Kazarians got richer. Mira legitimized the Kazarians, and while they were going legit in the states, divesting their criminal ventures, Mira wanted her freedom from the Armenian mob.

"So what is it? What's the big deal?"

"Momma doesn't know what it is, she only knows that without it, her goods are second to everyone else," explained Mira. "That's why M.R. Bakers will win the St. Petersburg Christmas Bake Off."

Jonah, confounded by what was transpiring; found it hard to believe her story. Mira got up and went behind the counter. She took out a couple of Christmas cookies and handed them to Jonah with a cup of hot chocolate. Jonah looked at them, unsure if the same business that had a gun aimed at his chest would serve him unsafe consumables. He slowly raised a cookie to his lips, taking a small bite that he slowly chewed.

The taste was incredible. Jonah had been on the streets his entire career, moving from patrol to robbery homicide and then to burglary. He never, not once, had tasted anything so delectable. The cookie was absolutely incredible, so incredible that the story started sounding plausible.

"So," he asked, "What's in this?"

"It's made with a honey and cinnamon-infused cornflower. There's one part in it that I have never shared," she explained.

"Not even with me, Amigo," Marcus announced. "But after one taste of Mira's baked goods I told her I'd open her bakery, give her a place to live and half the profits."

"I thought she was sleeping here."

"That's just while we get her condo repainted and furnished. This little lady is going to make me a lot of money. I can't have her living in the storeroom of a bakery," said Marcus.

"Is there anything else, Detective Jonah?" asked Mira.

"Yeah," Jonah sighed, relenting to the fact that he saw no reason to proceed with the investigation. "Can I get a dozen of these to go?"