by Natasha Deen
Chapter Seven
“Mrs. Hamilton?” echoed Halmoni.
Crickets! Mrs. Hamilton? “But she’s the one who organized the contest!” I said.
“Why would she want to do something like this?” asked Connor.
“I heard you talking about motive,” she said. “And Mrs. Hamilton had a bunch of reasons to do it.”
“Like what?”
“She was talking to Mrs. Robinson after she saw what Sophie was making. Mrs. Hamilton said she was jealous that Sophie was making kutia, because hers always burns.” Mrs. Delaney leaned down close to us, and she didn’t look happy at all. “I’ve participated every year in this contest,” she said proudly. “I actually won third place a couple of times! And once I came in second!” Her happiness turned to sadness. “But the number of people who enter and come to the contest is getting smaller and smaller every year. It doesn’t seem as popular as it used to be. Something sensational like a destroyed dessert will get folks talking. They might get interested in the contest again.”
“That’s a lot of motive!” I said.
“Man.” Connor looked as miserable as Mrs. Delaney. “That’s terrible. I really like Mrs. Hamilton, and I can’t believe it would be her.”
“It makes me feel so down in the mouth—” said Mrs. Delaney, shaking her head.
I frowned. I didn’t know what down in the mouth meant, but Mrs. Delaney was still talking. It would have been rude to interrupt her, so I waited.
“—but that’s what I heard, and it seemed right to tell you,” finished Mrs. Delaney.
Before I could ask her another question, she shook her head and walked away.
“What is down in the mouth?” asked Connor. “Is that a baking thing?”
“Maybe,” I said. “After all, you need your mouth to chew desserts, right?”
“What do we do now?” Connor kicked at the ground. “I guess we have to talk to Mrs. Hamilton, but I feel sad, thinking she might be the one.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “But feelings can make people do strange things. Remember our last case with Loi? She was so nervous about being onstage, she started hiding props so she could delay opening night.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. But hiding stuff is a lot different than destroying someone’s hard work. We should find Sophie and let her know.”
I agreed.
Chapter Eight
Halmoni left us to find Mom and Dad. Connor and I looked for Sophie. We found her at the judging stage, standing by rows of cupcakes. They were iced with a whole bunch of different colors—pink, blue, red, green, orange, yellow—and sprinkled with glitter!
Connor whistled. “Wow, I think this is what unicorns would make for dessert!”
“They are beautiful,” said Sophie. “Mr. Obano made them.”
“I thought you didn’t really want to be around the desserts,” I said.
“At first I didn’t,” said Sophie. “But then I thought I could be sad for myself or I could go and be happy for everyone else.” She shrugged. “I think I’m going to be sad for a while, so I thought I would take a break and be happy for a bit.”
“That’s really nice,” I said, “but you might not feel happy after you hear what we have to say.”
We told her about our conversation with Mrs. Delaney.
“I can’t believe it,” said Sophie. “She’s always so nice to me!”
“We should talk to her,” I said. “So far, we only have Mrs. Delaney’s side. We should listen to what Mrs. Hamilton has to say.”
We went looking for Mrs. Hamilton and found her in the foyer, helping welcome all the visitors.
“Mrs. Hamilton,” I said. Then I stopped and took a breath. My stomach was full of butterflies—and not in a good way. I really like Mrs. Hamilton. “We have to ask you some questions.”
“Of course,” she said. “Let’s find a quiet spot.”
When we were all seated, Sophie said, “Mrs. Hamilton, did you really say you were jealous of me for being able to make kutia?”
Mrs. Hamilton stared at us for a moment. “Yes, I did.”
Sophie, Connor and I exchanged glances.
“Oh!” Mrs. Hamilton put her hand to her mouth. “Oh no! Yes, Sophie, I did say that, but I didn’t throw your dessert on the floor.” She took Sophie’s hands in her own. “I didn’t mean jealous in a bad way. I only meant that I wish I could make kutia like you. Mine never smells as good as yours does!”
“That makes me happy,” said Sophie. “You’re always nice to me—”
“Me too,” said Connor.
“And me,” I added.
“—and I’d hate to think you were just pretending and you really don’t like me.”
“I like all of you very much,” said Mrs. Hamilton. “I wish you had been there for the conversation, Sophie. Because I am so proud of you. But I am sorry someone overheard my words and misunderstood me.” She squeezed Sophie’s hand. “But I’m very glad you came and talked to me about it.”
“Mrs. Hamilton,” I said, “you were moving around a lot today, making sure that everything was on schedule. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?”
“No, I really wish I had.” She checked her watch. “We only have ten minutes left. If we can’t figure out who did it, then I’m going to have to make a decision. I’ll have to start the contest or call it off. If I call it off, everyone will be disappointed. But if I run it, the culprit might win the prize.”
Crickets! Ten minutes to solve the case? Connor and I looked at each other. I didn’t know if we’d be able to do it. My best day was about to become my worstest day!
Chapter Nine
“What are we going to do?” asked Connor. “Ten minutes isn’t enough time!”
“I know. I’m going to walk around,” I said. “Maybe looking at the desserts will help me.”
“Okay,” said Connor. “I’m going to find the photographer. Jun. Maybe there’s something we missed.”
I walked around the displays. Then I sat in Sophie’s kitchen, closed my eyes and thought. It didn’t help. So I stood up and pretended to be the dessert destroyer. I checked to make sure I was alone. Then I threw a pretend kutia on the floor. I ran out of the kitchen and toward the exit. Finally I flung open the door and ran toward the parking lot.
That still didn’t help. There were too many people in the kitchens and too many people outside the building. It would have been easy for the culprit to get away. It was hard to believe that someone who had made a delicious dessert could also be the person who was so competative compatitive competitive that they threw someone else’s on the floor. I couldn’t solve the case, and it made me feel grumpy and sad.
I had to go tell Connor, Sophie and Mrs. Hamilton. Not solving the case ruined my appetite. I didn’t know how I was supposed to eat all those delicious treats when I felt so bad. And that made me feel even worse. Everyone had worked hard on their desserts. Mrs. Lee’s mooncakes, Miss Balza’s sugar cookies, Mrs. Delaney’s sunshine cake.
I stopped. Frowned. Wait a minute. Mrs. Lee’s mooncakes, Mr. O’Reilly’s baked Alaska, Mr. Obano’s colorful cupcakes, Miss Balza’s emoji sugar cookies, Mrs. Delaney’s sunshine cake, Mrs. Robinson’s tree cake…
All of a sudden, I knew who the culprit was!
Chapter Ten
I ran to find Connor, who was running to find me.
“I know who did it!” we both said at the same time.
“Mrs. Delaney,” I said.
“Right!” said Connor. “I was looking through the pictures. There was one with Mrs. Delaney holding the chocolate-chip bag. But her cake was a yellow cake with white frosting. Plus, she was holding it in front of her apron. I think it was to cover up the splatter of the kutia when she threw it on the floor.”
“Extra right,” I said. “There’s no chocolate in her recipe. Why would she hold it up for the photo? It doesn’t make sense. Pluser, I got white icing on my hand when I opened the back door.”
“Ici
ng from the cake,” he said. “She was at the back door. But when we asked her, she said she wasn’t near that spot. She lied.”
“Let’s find Mrs. Hamilton and Sophie, and then find Mrs. Delaney!”
We went searching and found Halmoni. She helped us look for the other adults. After we had found Sophie and Mrs. Hamilton, we approached Mrs. Delaney at her dessert table.
“Hello, everyone,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“Mrs. Delaney,” I said, “we think you’re the one who destroyed Sophie’s dessert.”
Everyone gasped.
“I wouldn’t do that!” said Mrs. Delaney. “I never went near her kitchen!”
“Why were you holding up a big bag of chocolate chips in the photo?” asked Connor. “Because you had thrown down Sophie’s dessert, and your apron had the evidence. The photographers were taking pictures, so you hid the mess behind the bag.”
“It’s true,” I said. “You didn’t even use chocolate chips for your cake.”
“That’s not evidence,” said Mrs. Delaney, scowling. “I was going to use the chocolate chips—that’s why they were in the photo. Then I changed my mind.” Her face got really scowly. “I’m allowed to change my mind.”
Mrs. Delaney being grumpy was scary, but I reminded myself that there was a crime to solve. That made me feel brave. “Why was your icing on the handle of the back exit? No one’s supposed to use it.”
“How do you know it was my icing?” she asked.
“Because. You’re the only one who made white icing,” said Connor.
“Oh.” She wiped her hand on the apron. “After the thing with Sophie, I went to the door to see if I could find anyone. But no one was there.”
“That’s not true,” Mrs. Hamilton said. “Because as soon as I heard the yelling, I came running. You were still in your kitchen.” Her eyes went all squinty. “In fact, the kids asked you about that, and you said you were nowhere near the back exit.”
“I came out when you weren’t looking,” said Mrs. Delaney. “And I checked the door. You were busy with Sophie. You didn’t notice me.”
Something clicked in my brain. “That’s not true either,” I said. “The picture of me and Connor was in the afternoon edition. Mr. Herald was delivering them when we left the house to come here. The only way you could have known about our picture is if you were outside the building. No one was allowed back here during the contest, not even Sophie’s babushka. So how did you know about the photo if you were inside the entire time?”
“When I looked outside after the incident, there was a paper on the ground. I saw your photo,” she said. “Anyway, if it was anyone’s fault, it was Mr. Obano’s. Talk to him.” She looked at me. “Didn’t you find his cupcake wrappers in Sophie’s kitchen?”
“Yes,” I said, “but you said you were never in Sophie’s kitchen. So how do you know what was in it?”
Mrs. Delaney didn’t say anything.
“Mrs. Delaney,” said Sophie. “How could you do that? I’ve never done anything to you!”
“Really, how could I do that?!” Mrs. Delaney snarled at Sophie. “I’ve entered this contest every year! And I’ve never won! With fewer entrants every year, this year might be the last time it’s run!”
“How could you do that? And to a child!” Mrs. Hamilton looked horrified. “Mrs. Delaney, you’re an adult!”
“There are no kids or adults in a contest,” she said. “Only competitors. I couldn’t be sure the bake-off would happen next year—”
“I’m always going to run the contest,” said Mrs. Hamilton.
“You say that now,” said Mrs. Delaney. “But I couldn’t be sure. And Sophie’s dessert took such a long time to make. And it looked so great—I was scared she was going to win. I did what I had to do to get that prize.”
“But then you lied to us,” said Connor. “And you tried to blame Mrs. Hamilton.”
“It was you who told the kids I was jealous!” Mrs. Hamilton gasped. “You knew I hadn’t meant what I said that way!”
“Lark and Connor have already solved three cases,” said Mrs. Delaney. “I couldn’t risk them solving this one—not until the contest was over. Not until I’d won.”
“You won’t win.” Mrs. Hamilton took a deep breath. “Your behavior was terrible. You destroyed someone’s property, you lied to Lark and Connor, and you lied about me! Please pack up your things and leave. You are not allowed to be part of the baking contest ever again!”
Mrs. Hamilton took Mrs. Delaney by the arm. “Let’s get your things and get you out of here.”
“That was terrible,” said Sophie. “I can’t believe she wanted to win so badly that she destroyed something I made.”
“Not everyone seems to understand sportsmanship,” said Halmoni, “but I’m glad the three of you do!”
“I didn’t even care about winning,” said Sophie. “I wanted to see if I could make the dessert, and I hoped I’d make my babushka proud too.”
“We are all proud of you.” Halmoni put her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “I feel bad for Mrs. Delaney, because she didn’t understand that sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.” She bent down and looked Sophie in the eyes. “You attempted to do something you’ve never done before, and that’s marvelous. Are you proud of yourself?”
Sophie nodded.
“Good, because that’s what matters. If you try, and if you are proud of your effort, that’s the important thing.”
After a few minutes, Mrs. Hamilton came back. “I’m sorry for what happened,” she said to Sophie, “and I know it might be difficult, but how would you feel about being a judge in the contest today?”
Sophie thought for a bit. “I don’t have to agree with Lark’s decision on the contest, do I?”
“No!” said Connor. “We get to choose for ourselves!”
“Good,” said Sophie. “Because Lark can be…so Lark-like.”
“I am not!” Wait, yes I am, and I am okay with that. “I am Lark, and I’m a very good Lark!”
“And loud,” Sophie added. Then she laughed. Then she hugged me! “Thank you, Lark sheep.” She grabbed Connor and pulled him into our hug.
“We solved the case just in time,” I said, “because I am getting hungry!”
We started judging and everything was so delicious! And Mr. O’Reilly’s baked Alaska was amazing! I picked it as my favorite. So did Connor and Sophie.
But when Mrs. Hamilton announced he’d won, he shook his head. “This bake-off was missing a contestant. We all know how hard Sophie worked on her dessert. It should have been on the stage and had a chance to win,” he said. He turned to Sophie. “I’d like you to have my prize.”
“That’s very nice,” said Sophie, “but you deserve to win.”
“How about if you share it then?” Mrs. Hamilton asked. “And let’s expand the prize. So, for two months the baked Alaska will be the featured dessert at Cake’n’Bake. And for the other two months, Sophie’s kutia will be the star.”
Sophie grinned and nodded.
Today really was the bestest day ever!
Later there was a knock at our front door. Halmoni answered it, then called for Connor and me.
Sophie was on the porch.
“Baa baa Lark sheep,” she said. “And Connor wool.”
He growled. “Wool is itchy and scratchy.”
“But it’s warm too,” she said. She held up a basket of blueberries. “I’m going to make kutia for my babushka. I wanted to know if you’d like to come and help.”
We looked at Halmoni. She smiled and nodded. “If it’s okay with your parents, Sophie.”
“It is,” she said. “What do you say?”
“I thought yesterday was a great day,” I said. “But today is icing on the cake!”
Connor frowned. “Lark, there’s no cake or icing. Kutia is a pudding.”
“It means that even though today’s a great day, sharing it with Sophie makes it even better. It makes it the bestest, most amaz
ing kind of day.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “I agree. Today is icing on the cake…with sprinkles!”
THE WORDS LARK LOVES
CHAPTER ONE:
“We’ll have to do some—” I tried to think of the word. It started with a k or an o, and it was a great word that meant “secret.”
This great word is covert. For example, if you were helping to plan a surprise birthday party for your parent, you’d be doing something covert.
CHAPTER SIX:
“I know, but this was a bad thing that happened. We have to make sure we try to make her feel better. We should try to as—swe—” I couldn’t remember the word, but it was a good one. Halmoni used it once, and I liked the way it sounded. It started with an a or an s, and it meant “to make someone feel better.”
This is an amazingly cool word, assuage, and it means “to lessen.” If you help a friend who is feeling sad by giving them a hug or listening to them, you help assuage their sadness.
THE WORDS LARK *ALMOST* GOT
CHAPTER THREE:
“Hmm,” she said. “When everyone found out Sophie was making kutia, we all figured she was a shoo-in to win.”
Connor frowned. “What do shoes have to do with winning?” he whispered.
I shook my head and looked at Sophie’s rainbow-colored sneakers. “I don’t know.”
This word tricked Lark. She thought it was shoe-in, but the word is actually shoo-in, and it’s another way to say someone or something is sure to win. Sophie’s dessert was a shoo-in for first place, which means it was certain to win.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
“It makes me feel so down in the mouth—” said Mrs. Delaney.
I frowned. I didn’t know what down in the mouth meant, but Mrs. Delaney was still talking. It would have been rude to interrupt her, so I waited.
