Gum Drop Dead: Cupcake Truck Mysteries

by Emily James

  Claire slid into her chair and shifted it ever so slightly closer to him. “We wanted to give our respects even though we’d only met him once. It seemed like the right thing to do.”

  Elijah smiled in a way that could have been genuine or could have been someone who’d trained for a long time to make sure fake smiles looked genuine. “I appreciate that.”

  Claire looked like she considered patting his hand and then thought better of it.

  Was she flirting? Elijah was my age. She was closer to Donald Wells’ age.

  “We were sorry for the disturbance when Mr. Frank showed up. We didn’t realize he’d have a problem with us being there.”

  The softness around Elijah’s eyes tightened. “Mr. Frank overstepped. He had no right to request anyone leave my uncle’s house.”

  His uncle’s house. Not his aunt’s house or even Rebecca’s house. That confirmed what I’d overheard that the house didn’t belong to her now that her husband had died. This had to be difficult for her. Donald Wells’ family didn’t seem to feel much sympathy for her either.

  If Claire was trying to smooth over the scene at the funeral, she was going about it the wrong way. Besides, she didn’t need to smooth anything over. He’d come to us even after what happened at the funeral luncheon. All we had to do was impress him with our food. This wasn’t like Claire.

  I handed him the sheet I’d made with all the options listed. “As you’re testing each, you can mark down whether it’s something you’d like us to bring to you or not. There’s also a spot at the bottom where you can include any allergies or other restrictions. We know some buildings are nut-free.”

  The hard edges forming around his eyes softened again. “That’s very thoughtful. One of the reasons I hoped you’d be a good fit for working with our company, even in this capacity, was the kindness you showed by bringing something to the funeral luncheon. I see my instincts were correct.”

  So my ignorance about social customs had actually gotten us this opportunity. In a small way, it reminded me of the story of Ruth in the Bible. Ruth was a widow who ended up re-married to a good man because she was out gleaning wheat in a field and accidentally drew attention to herself. God used many unusual circumstances for his plan.

  Maybe someday I’d be able to look at everything that had happened to me and feel the same way about all of it. Maybe.

  “I’ve never been great with words,” I said, “but I can speak with food.”

  He grinned at me in a way that I knew was genuine this time even if I couldn’t have said how I knew. Objectively, his expression looked the same as before. “That you can.”

  “Does the hot air balloon operator have a history with your family?” Claire’s voice was a little too casual. “Mrs. Wells didn’t seem happy to see him, and it seemed like her dislike ran deeper than what happened.”

  My stomach torqued. Oh no. That’s what Claire was playing at. She wasn’t flirting. She wasn’t trying to ingratiate us. She was trying to dig for information on the case.

  This wasn’t the time for that. I wanted to figure out who killed Donald Wells too. And I wasn’t naïve. I knew that no matter how nice Elijah seemed, he could be the murderer. But he wasn’t likely to give up anything useful to us right now. If we landed this job, we’d have more interactions with him where we could learn things that might be important.

  Not only that, but Claire’s approach was about as subtle as a truck driving into the side of a building. He struck me as someone who was too savvy to slip up with such blatant interrogation techniques.

  I snapped up his water glass and shoved it into Claire’s hand even though it was only half full. “Let us refill that for you. You still have a few to get through.”

  He gave the same smile as before, where his lips looked softer. “It’s a good thing I skipped lunch.”

  Something about his smile made me want to return it.

  Remember, Fear whispered, evil hides behind handsome faces and warm smiles.

  I imagined shoving Fear into a box and locking the lid. Evil did hide in those places, but as Dan liked to remind me, if I refused to trust anyone at all, I’d have a very empty life.

  I wasn’t going to trust Elijah yet, but I also wasn’t going to treat him like a confirmed murderer. For now, I was going to treat him like an honored customer.

  I smiled back at him. “I fully advocate eating cupcakes for at least two meals of the day.”

  Claire set the cup on water back on the table beside him. The look she gave him, eyebrows up and gaze unwavering, said she was still waiting for the answer to her question. When Janie or I faced that look, we caved.

  Elijah returned her look calmly. “Rebecca, my uncle’s wife, was quite distraught at the funeral, as you might imagine. In times of tragedy, we all look for a reason or someone to blame. I don’t think she truly suspects Mr. Frank any more than she suspects you.”

  The implication was clear to me at least. Claire’s poking around was suspicious to him. He probably didn’t think she had anything to do with killing his uncle, but he might have caught on to what she was doing. Or perhaps he did suspect us. What better way to see if we might have been involved in slipping the lime juice to his uncle than to hire us, so he’d have an excuse to check us out.

  “Surely you must suspect someone, though,” Claire said.

  I wanted to hide my face. Claire had a lot of good qualities. She was a wiz at organization. She could take command of a situation and get things done. She was determined. But tact and subtlety were not among her positive attributes.

  Elijah rose to his feet. “I must be going. Do you mind if I return this slip to you once I’ve had time to consider the options?”

  He addressed the question to me.

  I bowed my head slightly in acknowledgment. “Let me walk you out.”

  Claire looked like she was either going to point out that he hadn’t tried everything yet or invite herself to join us on the walk out. I glared at her. She glared back but gathered up the remains of the tasting.

  I trailed behind Elijah out of the house. Social niceties weren’t my area of expertise. I wasn’t sure whether to pretend like it hadn’t happened. Even if we got the job now, he’d be on his guard against future questions.

  Pretending like it hadn’t happened didn’t seem like the right path, whether we got the job or not. Elijah had come to this tasting in good faith—as far as I knew—and he’d been ambushed.

  “I’m sorry for my business partner,” I said quietly. “She’s been struggling ever since she saw your uncle fall.”

  He stopped beside his car and turned back to face me. “I don’t blame her. I wasn’t even there, and I’ve been having nightmares about it.” He pressed his key fob, and his car beeped. “But I hope you’ll understand if part of the agreement should we offer you this contract is that you be the one to deliver the goods.”

  I bobbed my head. “Of course.”

  He climbed into his car. “I’ll be in touch.”

  He pulled away. The adrenaline left my body, and I wanted to slump down into the grass and sit there for a few minutes. Instead, I forced myself to go back inside.

  Claire stood next to the front door, her hands on her hips. “Why did you keep blocking me? This was the perfect opportunity to get more information on the case.”

  The part of me that had been conditioned to back away from confrontation shrunk inside me. But I couldn’t let it win. Not this time. Claire was my business partner and my roommate. On top of that, I’d worked too hard to save and keep my business to let anything happen to it now.

  “He knew what you were doing. He wasn’t going to give us any information, and we were at risk of losing the job.”

  My words didn’t come out as forceful as I’d hoped. If I was being honest with myself, they weren’t forceful at all. More like a squeak than a thundercloud.

  Claire pursed her lips, and her hands tightened on her hips. “There’s no need to exaggerate.”

&nbs
p; Her voice carried the tiniest hesitation. Had I not spent so much time with her lately, I wouldn’t have heard it.

  “I wish I was exaggerating.” This time I kept my voice soft on purpose.

  Claire huffed out a breath. “I’m not cut out for investigating. Dan managed to go undercover multiple times. I don’t understand it. Getting information out of people without them knowing it is a lot harder than it looks on TV.” She glanced at the door. “Do you think we still have a chance at the contract?”

  “I’m only guessing, but he seemed like he might be willing to overlook it as long as we didn’t make a habit of poking into his family’s personal lives.”

  Claire jutted her chin toward the kitchen. “I’ve been going to the gym enough lately. I think we should finish the rest of the tasting menu for supper.”

  I couldn’t have come up with a better idea myself.

  11

  The security guard at the front door of the building checked that my name was on a list of approved visitors and then gave me directions to find Elijah’s office. I wasn’t sure exactly what his business was other than it was something in the financial sector, but the building was open and bright. Everyone in it seemed to speak so softly that my footsteps sounded like I was stomping.

  When Elijah called to give us the contract, he’d actually apologized for making us wait one day. I’d heard women talk about men waiting longer than that to call after a great first date.

  I reached the third floor, and a woman waved to me from behind an open desk. Her red-hair was pulled back neatly into a bun.

  “I’m Mr. Wells’ assistant.” She waved me in like I was a kid late for class. “Mr. Wells office is straight ahead. Go right in. He’s waiting for you.” She winked at me as I passed. “I’m so glad you’re saving us from those dry pastries we’ve been subjected to until now.”

  Her approach made me feel like she’d have invited me for a cup of tea if I didn’t have an appointment already. Whatever type of financial work this office did, they didn’t strike me as the typical stuffy office environment.

  I knocked softly on Elijah’s door and went inside.

  He rose to his feet. “Just in time. Mary Ellen has been worried you wouldn’t get here before the Every Child’s Wish people, even though they’re not coming until this afternoon.”

  Every Child’s Wish was a Michigan organization that did something similar to the national Make-A-Wish Foundation. Their scope was a little broader. They granted the wishes of terminally-ill children, but they also set up entertainment and other joy-bringing events for children’s floors at hospitals. I’d read about them in the Positivity Project column.

  I carefully set the cupcake boxes down on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t know charities would have money to invest.”

  Elijah moved around his desk and opened the lid of the top cupcake box as if he couldn’t help himself. He smiled gently and covered them again. “I don’t know whether they’d need our services or not. They’re coming because we want to set up a regular donor arrangement. The type of thing where we meet their needs, and they display our logo along with their other major donors.”

  My face felt numb, like I couldn’t smile or raise my eyebrows because my brain didn’t know which reaction to pick. That was the last thing I’d been expecting. Financial companies didn’t have a reputation for generosity. They had a reputation for being cutthroat and, sometimes, for gambling with money that people could ill afford to lose.

  Elijah chuckled, a soft noise that reminded me of the relaxing sound of leaves rustling. “My family has always had a philanthropic mindset. Making a lot of money isn’t just about us. It’s about having enough that we can donate at a level that will make a difference for important charities.”

  The fact that the family wasn’t willing to let Rebecca Wells live off of Donald’s money now made more sense. They believed in working for their own comfort but also for filling needs outside the family.

  It wasn’t a mentality that was common anymore. Even politicians and other advocates who were the most vocal about charities and needs didn’t seem to put their own money into those causes. It always confused me when I saw athletes using their celebrity to make political and social statements but keeping their millions in their own bank accounts. What did a person even do with millions of dollars anyway?

  Elijah seemed to be someone who actually did something to better the world. I didn’t want him to be the one who killed his uncle. No doubt if he was, he’d have believed his motives were noble. But Elijah seemed like a genuinely nice human being. I needed some people in the world to just be good people, to just be what they seemed. Dan was that way, and he felt like too rare a person.

  I touched the top of the cupcake boxes. “The cardboard is recyclable. Let me know by Wednesday what flavors you’d like for next Friday. Are you meeting with a charity that saves puppies then?”

  Elijah shook his head. “Unfortunately, not, though perhaps I’ll have Mary Ellen gather information on the Michigan Humane Society.”

  Dan would have teased that puppies were next month. Elijah’s serious response almost made me feel irreverent for my joke.

  I backed toward the door. “Thanks for giving us a chance.”

  If I hadn’t still been facing him, I would have flinched. That sounded desperate.

  Elijah’s soft smile spread across his face again. “My staff is thanking you.”

  I clicked the door shut behind me, but Mary Ellen was already headed toward the door. Her smile was bright enough it could have lit up a stadium.

  She ducked into the room and came back out with the boxes, closing the door behind her again. “Mr. Wells had nothing but good things to say about your cupcakes. I can barely wait for the meeting to try them.”

  She disappeared down the hall.

  Maybe this place was too good to be true. It felt a bit like walking on rainbows and sunshine. Everyone was cheerful and peaceful, and they gave away money. It could be the business version of The Stepford Wives.

  Or maybe I was just a cynic.

  I headed back in the direction I’d come from. A woman’s voice hissed out of a partially opened door in front of me. I stopped. Not all unicorn sparkles after all.

  “You need to leave me alone,” the woman’s voice said.

  Not any woman. The voice either belonged to Rebecca Wells or someone who could have done an amazing imitation of her.

  First she’d blasted Andy Frank at the funeral, believing he’d either killed her husband or had negligently taken him up in the hot air balloon even though he was obviously ill.

  Now she’d come to her husband’s former place of business and was accosting the employees. She seemed to lack a sense of timing or discretion.

  Or perhaps that was how she handled grief. Grief could make people do things and say things they’d never have thought possible. Especially if they were looking for a reason or someone to blame, as Elijah had said.

  When my dad died, I hadn’t blamed the doctors, which might have been the natural thing to do. My dad died from an interaction between his weak heart and an allergic reaction. Instead, I’d blamed myself. If I hadn’t taken us on that picnic. If I had worked extra shifts, so we could have seen another specialist. If. If. If.

  Looking back, carrying around that self-loathing might have been part of what contributed to making me an easy target for Jarrod.

  “I don’t understand, Becca.” The man’s voice from inside the office snapped me back into the present. “You had no problem being with me while your husband was alive. Now that he’s gone, you want to break things off. That’s backwards.”

  I should not be listening to this conversation. Rebecca Wells would not be forgiving if she caught me accidentally eavesdropping on her a second time.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Unless I wanted to go back into Elijah’s office or into one of the meeting rooms, there wasn’t a way out in that direction. Reaching the stairs or elevator required me to pass by the
door and potentially be spotted.

  “I don’t expect you to understand,” Rebecca said. “I do expect you to respect my decision.”

  “Don’t do this, baby.” The man’s voice turned low and sultry. Heat crept up my neck just listening to it. “We can be together guilt-free now. That’s all we ever wanted.”

  Rebecca made a noise that sounded like she was either choking or crying. “Not guilt free.”

  The door swung open, and Rebecca sailed out. I jumped backward, but she didn’t look in my direction at all. I stayed as still as possible just in case.

  Rebecca might not have had a reason to murder her husband, but her boyfriend did. He’d sounded convinced that Donald’s death fixed everything. They’d wanted to be together openly, but Rebecca either couldn’t or wouldn’t leave Donald. Now Donald was dead, they could be together, and they didn’t have to sneak around or feel bad anymore.

  Not that the boyfriend sounded like he felt bad even when they’d been sneaking around. He’d sounded more like he was glad Rebecca wouldn’t have to feel bad anymore.

  The boyfriend’s motive might even have gone deeper than that. He couldn’t have known Rebecca would break up with him after her husband’s death. Perhaps he assumed she’d marry him if he asked. He’d probably expected Rebecca would inherit Donald Wells’ wealth, and he would get both Rebecca and the money with Donald gone.

  Even if the money hadn’t factored in, if she refused to leave her husband because she knew about the will, her secret boyfriend could have seen killing Donald as a way to free her.

  Based on the conversation I’d overheard, Rebecca might have been close to breaking it off with her secret boyfriend before her husband died. Now she couldn’t stand to continue, knowing that she’d been unfaithful to her husband while he was alive. If her boyfriend had killed for her, that could put her life at risk too once he realized he wasn’t going to be able to win her back.

  I needed to get a little closer so I could read the name on his door. Dan and the others investigating Donald Wells’ death might not know about him. If they’d been able to keep their affair a secret from Donald, there probably wouldn’t be a record for the police to follow either.