Cupcakes and Killers

by Laina Turner

  I heard a knock on my door and looked out my window to see Clive standing there. Hoping he had some good news for me, I walked over and let him in.

  “Want some iced tea? Or I can put on a pot of coffee,” I asked.

  “Tea would be great,” he replied, and took a seat at the table. I set the beverage in front of him, refilled my glass, and sat down myself.

  “I’m assuming you’re here because you have more information about Harvey?”

  “Yes, and it’s not good,” he said, a grim look on his face.

  I frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Clive took a breath. “It was the cupcake.”

  I looked at him quizzically. “You mean the cupcake I served him?”

  He nodded. “It was poisoned.”

  “You’re kidding me!” He shook his head. “Just that one, or all of them?”

  “Just that one.”

  “How could that happen?” I said, my voice rising an octave.

  “That’s what we’re looking into. Do you remember anything strange or anyone strange hanging around this morning?”

  “No. I told you earlier, it was a normal day. I took the cupcake delivery from Avery. I’m the one who took that cupcake and gave it to Harvey. I promise you, I wasn’t the one who poisoned him.”

  “I know, but knowing who didn’t poison him doesn’t help to tell me who did.”

  “I don’t know who would have had access besides myself, Sally, and, of course, Avery. Everyone who came in this morning was someone we know. I mean, they’ve at least been in before. There weren’t any new customers or strangers. Plus, we would have noticed if someone went into the display case, and no one did. I can assure you of that. Do you think it was some random act, or for Harvey specifically?”

  “That’s also something we are trying to figure out. I need you to make a list of everyone you can remember who came in, so we can talk to them.”

  “You don’t think any of us had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “I’ve known you girls for a long time, Trixie, so no, I don’t. I still need to investigate and figure out who did, though, and I have to treat you like I would treat someone I didn’t know in the same situation.”

  “I know, I know. I get it. What did Doris say?”

  “Now there’s a unique individual,” he said.

  “I’ve only met her a handful of times over the years. I went to a few cookouts at their place with my parents when I was a kid, and she seemed nice.”

  “Oh, she is nice, and a great cook. She and Harvey just had, how should I put it, an interesting marriage.”

  “I know they were getting a divorce, which shocked me. At their age! What’s the point?”

  “Did you know Harvey had a girlfriend?”

  “Shut the front door! No way. Isn’t he in his eighties?”

  “Age isn’t a factor these days, if you know what I mean. There’s modern medicine for that.”

  I hit him in the arm. “I wasn’t talking about that. I meant dating is hard enough at my age. I can’t imagine wanting the drama of dating and a divorce at his.”

  “That I agree with.” He pushed up from the table. “You might want to call Avery. You’re cleared to open back up for business tomorrow, but Avery isn’t. Since the cupcakes came from her business, forensics needs to go through and test everything in there.”

  “Poor Avery. How long do you think it will be?”

  “At least a couple days.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Clive.”

  “No one is going to think you poison people. Clive doesn’t think that, and anyone who knows you won’t think that.” I’d spent the last thirty minutes at Avery’s bakery trying to calm her down and convince her the world wasn’t going to end.

  “Clive doesn’t eat my cupcakes. He likes the doughnuts at the bakery better,” she said, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, in no mood to listen to reason. I could understand why. She had her heart and soul, not to mention all her money, poured into CupCakes. Much like we all did in Read Wine. She’d opened the bakery about a year before we opened Read Wine, after being fired from her position as a pastry chef for being too fancy on a wedding cake at a different bakery. That reasoning never made sense to me. Weren’t wedding cakes supposed to be elaborate? The cupcake craze had just hit, and she knew most people liked fancy. CupCakes didn’t just carry cupcakes. They also did custom cakes, pies, and cookies. Any baked good that, as Avery put it, could be fancified. People in town, and in the neighboring towns, loved her products, and she had been doing amazingly well.

  “Avery, listen to me. People in this town have been enjoying your baked goods for over a year without anything bad happening, and once Clive finds the person responsible for Harvey’s death, they won’t think twice about eating your cupcakes.”

  “I hope so. What if someone is out to get me, and Harvey just got caught in the middle?”

  “You’re being overly dramatic. I don’t think anyone is out to get you.”

  “You’re right. I’m losing it. I can’t believe this is happening. The last few months have been so good. We were finally starting to operate in the black. This could be a fatal setback.”

  “Try not to think of it that way. You need to think positive. This will all work out—you’ll see,” I said.

  “Who do you think could have done this?” Avery asked.

  “I have no idea. Harvey seemed harmless. Who could possibly want to kill him?”

  Chapter 3

  A ringing phone interrupted my conversation with Sally, and when I went to grab it I looked at the clock above the desk. I still had fifteen minutes until opening time. It had been two days since Harvey’s murder, and it seemed like forever. The concept of time could be such a funny thing. Sally and I hoped people would show up today. We knew we were bound to have to answer a lot of questions from customers—after all, everyone knew Harvey—but we wanted a return to business as usual as much as possible under the circumstances.

  “Hello?” I waited for a second before saying hello again. When there was no response, I hung up the phone and frowned.

  “Same thing?” Sally asked.

  “Yep. It’s starting to really tick me off.”

  “Do you think it’s him?”

  “I don’t know, but this is the tenth day in a row where someone has called, then doesn’t say anything. At this point, I don’t think it’s a wrong number. I doubt someone playing a prank would just call the same number over and over again. That’d get kind of boring,” I said, attempting some humor I didn’t feel.

  “Have you told Clive about the calls?”

  “Not yet. The first couple days I didn’t think much of it, then I thought they would stop. Now this thing with Harvey.”

  “What if they don’t stop, Trixie?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll talk to Clive tomorrow, when I go for my last shift of community service.”

  A few months ago, a guy by the name of Stephen Westner came into town. Stephen wasn’t a nice guy, to put it mildly, and thought we owed him money. He’d threatened Cora, and, desperate to protect her, I hatched a plan that involved Sally and me breaking into the property room at the police station and getting back the bag of money that had been logged as evidence. Not one of our smarter plans, although it did work. At the last minute, I double-crossed Stephen by getting Clive there, so he could arrest him. It had never been my intent to give him the money. I wasn’t that stupid. He did, however, manage to escape from the police, which wasn’t a part of my grand scheme and got me in a lot of trouble with Clive. Stephen’s parting words to me were that he wasn’t finished with me, and that he would be back. I had put him out of my mind as an empty threat until recently, when these hang-up calls began. It was starting to unnerve me and, frankly, make me paranoid.

  “How do you only have one left? I have two,” Sally said.

  Even though Clive was a high school friend of ours, he was not happy we’d stolen evidence out of
his station. In fact, he’d been furious, and Sally and I had been screamed at and lectured for hours, though we were lucky it wasn’t much worse. I’d almost been afraid we were going to cause him to have a stroke. Once he had calmed down, he told us he wouldn’t press charges if we volunteered one hundred hours of our time to community service. Specifically, working at the women’s shelter. All in all, it was a fair trade-off. We could have been in so much more trouble, and I found I enjoyed my time at the shelter. So, ultimately, I ended up getting to experience something I never would have if things hadn’t happened the way they did.

  “Katherine was sick last Saturday, and I worked the night shift to cover. So, I got in extra time. I think I might even keep volunteering once our mandated gig is up. I like it, and it makes me feel like I’m doing something good for the community. Plus, Katherine really needs the help.”

  “I feel the same way. Sure puts our problems in perspective.”

  “Yes, it does. It’s easy to get caught up in your own negativity. Thinking of others is almost a relief, and makes it easier to appreciate what you have.”

  “I’m glad you’re planning to talk to Clive. This may be nothing; then again, it may be Stephen. Even if it’s a random stranger, it needs to stop. It’s creepy. We need to be safe. I don’t even want to think about what could happen if it is Stephen.” She shuddered.

  “I know. We need to get the doors unlocked,” I said, looking at the clock. It was a couple minutes until opening time, and while we didn’t often have people beating down our doors, especially during the week, it was never good business to open late. You never knew when there might be an early bird, and we couldn’t afford to miss a sale, especially today.

  Walking up to the front, I opened the door and saw Cora coming around the corner. I held the door open for her, and she walked in.

  “It’s already eighty degrees,” Cora said.

  “I know. This is going to skyrocket our air-conditioning bill,” Sally said, walking behind the cash wrap to open the registers. She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Cora, who was taking off her jacket to hang on the coat tree.

  “Thanks, Sally.” Cora took a sip. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  I looked at the list I wrote down each day on my notepad. If I didn’t write down the things I needed to do, I’d never remember them. Then I noticed chipped polish on my index finger. Damn, I’d just had a manicure two days ago. “I’ve got a shipment of books coming in, and I’m running a Book Buy Back event from five to seven tonight. Sally will be working the shop this morning, and has a networking event over in Cedar Creek at three, and for you, we have a bunch of website updates. I took pictures of the new books for you to upload and catalog.”

  “Fun stuff!” Cora said. “And hopefully we can accomplish all that without any dead bodies.”

  “I hear that. All kidding aside, even the most tedious stuff we have to do is more fun because we’re doing it for ourselves,” I said.

  “So true,” Sally agreed. “Are you going to tell Cora about the hang-up this morning?”

  I gave her a look. I hadn’t planned on it. I hadn’t wanted to bother Cora with such things while she was on cloud nine over her engagement and wedding planning. Why not let her enjoy her own version of reality for a while, instead of the one we were currently experiencing?

  “Another one?” Cora’s eyebrows rose.

  “Yes, a few minutes before you got here.”

  “This makes how many straight days now?”

  “Too many. I told her she needs to tell Clive,” said Sally.

  “And I said I would. Now let’s talk about something more fun and enjoy our coffee. How’s the wedding planning going, Cora?”

  Cora frowned and took a sip of her coffee. She was clearly thinking about something, and it wasn’t her wedding. At least, I hoped it wasn’t, with that frown.

  “Is something wrong, Cora?” I asked. “Is it you and Jonathan?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Sally. “If it’s not Jonathan, then it can’t be that bad.”

  “Actually, it may be worse.”

  “What is going on, Cora?” I asked.

  “There’s something I’ve never told you guys. One of the reasons I moved here was because I was being harassed by an ex-boyfriend. The one before Jim. He stalked me, followed Jim, crank calls, nasty emails, you name it. When Jim got the job offer here, it seemed perfect. We thought we could start a new life together and get away from the crazy. When Jim and I broke up, I was already settled here, and had met you two, and I didn’t want to go back to the place where this guy could find me, so I stayed. He’d stopped bothering me when I’d moved here, so I thought I was free from him.”

  “Oh, honey. Why didn’t you ever tell us this before?” Sally put her hand on Cora’s arm.

  Cora shrugged. “I was making a fresh start. I wanted to put it all behind me and pretend it didn’t happen. It worked. I had all but forgotten about it until a few days ago.”

  “Why? What happened a few days ago?” I asked.

  “This,” she said, pulling a note out of her purse and handing it to me.

  With Sally looking over my shoulder, I read: You thought you could run, you thought you could hide, but now I’ve found you. It’s going to be a great surprise!

  I looked at Cora. “Are you telling us this is from him?”

  “I’m sure it is. No one else would send that.”

  “Maybe it’s from Stephen?” Sally said.

  Cora shook her head. “No. It’s his handwriting. I recognize it. It was mailed to my house. Somehow, he found out where I live. What am I going to do?”

  “You need to tell Jonathan. He deserves to know. Besides, he can protect you. And then you need to tell Clive. Maybe you can get a restraining order,” I said.

  “Trixie’s right. You need to tell them,” Sally said.

  “I don’t want to worry Jonathan about this.”

  “Why not? He’s your fiancé. He has a right to know, and you know he would want to,” I said.

  “I know. You’re right. Just give me some time. I need to process this. I can’t believe when I’ve finally found the guy of my dreams, this has to resurface and ruin everything.”

  “Cora, it’s just a small setback to your smooth road of happiness. Don’t let it bother you,” I said. “It’s not like it’s your fault. It won’t ruin anything with Jonathan.”

  “At least say you’ll tell Clive, so he can keep his eyes open,” Sally said, “and then, I agree with Trixie. You need to not let this loser interfere with your happiness. That’s what he wants, to get in your head, so you can’t let him win.”

  “You don’t think Clive will tell Jonathan, do you?”

  “No. Not if you tell him not to,” I said. “But you’re being silly to not tell him yourself.”

  “Do you think maybe that’s who has been calling the shop and hanging up?” asked Sally. “Maybe it’s not Stephen at all.”

  “He’s never pranked before, but I guess it could be him. It’s not out of the realm of possibilities,” Cora said.

  “So, we have two potential crazies out there, on top of yesterday’s dead body. I’m sorry I ever said the library was boring,” I said. “Boring doesn’t sound all that bad right now.”

  I let the last person out of the shop and locked the door. It was almost eight, and I was exhausted. It had been a long day. People had asked a lot of questions about what happened to Harvey, but pastry sales stayed good. No one was too worried they would get a poisoned cupcake. Exactly what I told Avery this afternoon when I called to check on her. Her place was still closed, though, and she was freaking out. The Book Buy Back event had been a success. We even drew in customers from other towns now. Word of mouth traveled, and we had some popular, new titles to add to our used book collection, along with some great classics. It never failed to surprise me how many old and rare books people had stashed around that they no longer wanted. When
we opened, it hadn’t occurred to me we might become a go-to place for collector’s editions.

  I walked back to the office to grab my coat and purse, deciding to deal with all the paperwork in the morning. I was too tired to worry about it now. The phone rang, and I paused. Since the hang-up calls had started a couple weeks ago, I got a little nervous every time the phone rang. Did I feel like dealing with another hang-up call? Not really, but the businesswoman in me won out, and I decided to answer it in case it was a customer. Plus, it could be Sally or Cora seeing how things had gone.

  “Hello. Hello?”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” a voice said before hanging up.

  I dropped the phone back in its cradle and slid down into the chair. This was what I had been afraid of. All of us had been. That these hang-up calls weren’t kids playing pranks, and it wasn’t Cora’s stalker ex-boyfriend. It was Stephen, making good on his threat. I would recognize his voice anywhere.

  Chapter 4

  “Hi, Trixie. You on your way to the shelter?” Clive said when I poked my head in his office.

  “How did you know?”

  “I had lunch with Katherine today, and she told me.”

  “Clive, do you have a crush on Katherine?” I teased. Katherine was about thirty-five years older than us and looked very much the grandmotherly type, but was one of the sassiest, most confident women I knew.

  “Ha! Like I would risk the wrath of her husband.” Katherine’s husband was as sweet as she was, and, unlike Harvey and Doris, those two were very much in love.

  “I am heading over there, but I was hoping I could talk to you first.”

  “Sure, come in. Is something wrong? No one is hassling you about Harvey, are they?”

  “Oh, not at all. It’s been business as usual. Actually, I thought more people would ask about what happened. Morbid curiosity, and all that. I’m here about something else. Never a dull moment these days,” I said, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. “We’ve been getting a lot of hang-up calls at the shop for the last couple weeks. I was going to tell you about it today, anyway, at Sally’s insistence, but last night I got a call that wasn’t a hang-up. It was a man’s voice, and he said, ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’”