The Cupcake Capers Box Set

by Polly Holmes

  Thwack.

  “Watch where you’re going, will you?” The woman’s gruff voice snapped as Clair juggled Charlotte’s dress and her bag, praying neither would end up on the filthy pavement.

  “Excuse me?” Clair said, regaining her stability. The nerve of the woman blaming me for what was clearly her fault.

  “Oh, it’s you.” Stella’s sarcastic tone rang out.

  Clair’s blood began to boil at the sight of a smug Stella. The discovery of her deceit last night flooded her mind. “Sorry, Stella. I didn’t see you there. I was just picking up Charlotte’s dress for this evening. It’s exciting, don’t you think?”

  Stella’s lips thinned and she shrugged.

  “You are going to the Founder’s Day Gala dinner this evening, aren’t you?” Clair asked. Because Mason would love to chat with you.

  Stella paled and shook her head. “No, I don’t think I can make it anymore.”

  “What…why not?”

  “I really don’t see what concern that is of yours, but if you must know, I’ve been under the weather the last few days and the doctor has advised me against going out at night.” Stella pushed her handbag up on her shoulder and turned to leave.

  Liar. Clair saw red and her mouth ran away from her before she could stop it. “How interesting. I guess lying comes naturally to you. We both know you haven’t been sick, unless you were lying to Mason about visiting your sister last night. You even lied to him about knowing Roland Trent.”

  Stella froze and slowly turned. A triumphant thrill ran up Clair’s spine.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her face suddenly drawn with age.

  “Really?” Clair said hiking the dress up in her arms. “So lying, deceit, and murder were all part of your plan?”

  Mortification clouded Stella’s eyes. “Murder?” She gasped. “I had nothing to do with James’ murder or Roland Trent’s. I barely knew the guy.”

  “Ah huh, but you did know him,” Clair said shaking her finger at her. Mrs Stevenson was right.

  Stella sighed in resignation. “All right, all right, yes I met him through James. He was a business associate of his, that’s all.”

  “So, it doesn’t bother you that his name is signed on the bottom of James’ life insurance policy next to yours, citing you as the beneficiary?”

  Stella gasped and her mouth made a round O. “What insurance policy?”

  “Oh, please, like you don’t know. The one that states that his wife gets three million dollars in the event of his death. Conveniently signed by your lawyer, Roland Trent, who cannot be questioned. If they proved you murdered James for the money and Roland to keep your secret, the policy would be null and void. The police have it, so I’m sure they’re going to want to chat with you very soon.”

  Stella paled, shock plastered over her face. “No, you’ve got it all wrong,” Stella said suddenly, her sincere tone throwing Clair off kilter.

  Clair’s brows drew together and she stared intently at the woman. “You might not be attending the dinner tonight, but I suggest you stick around town.”

  Stella’s sudden change in demeanour caught Clair off guard. Pain. Fear. Clair couldn’t tell which one until Stella all but crumbled in front of her. Alarm rippled over her as tears gathered in Stella’s eyes.

  “Okay, you win,” Stella said between sobs. “I’ve lied to Mason about a lot of things, including that silly curse stuff in the paper, but not about the murder. I could never kill James. Whether you believe me or not, I loved him, but I wasn’t his wife. At least not officially.”

  What the… Clair’s heart was about to jump right out of her chest.

  “What exactly do you mean ‘officially’?” Clair asked.

  “I mean we’ve been living together on and off for the last twelve months and we loved each other, but he refused to get married. Something about how he’d already married the love of his life. I knew I’d get nothing and it would all go to Mason. After all the time I gave him, I’d walk away empty handed. I panicked. The policy is real, but I covered Mason’s name and forged my name. I knew they’d question Roland Trent about it so I went to see him, to tell him to keep quiet. He refused, until I offered him half the money. To complete the whole charade, he arranged to have a new policy made, citing me as the sole beneficiary and had a marriage certificate forged.”

  Stunned, Clair stood and listened. It was like she was living in her very own soap opera.

  Stella continued between garbled gasps. “But nothing is worth putting my life in danger, not even for James.”

  Clair frowned. “Danger? What are you talking about?”

  “I did visit my sister last night and when I got back this morning, Mason’s car wasn’t in the driveway. So, I figured he was still at his mate’s place or out doing whatever young men do these days and I wouldn’t have to see him. When I walked through the front door, I got the biggest shock of my life. The place was like a war zone. Someone had ripped it apart. Cushions slashed to smithereens, pictures smashed, and cupboard and drawers flung open with the contents strewn all over the floor.”

  Clair’s entire body stiffened. Stella’s words hit her where she lived. What if they’d come last night when she and Mason were there? A cold shiver ran down her spine.

  “I’ve no idea what they were looking for, but judging by the state they left it in, they didn’t find it. I’m sorry, honey, but I’m not waiting around to see if they come back. For all I know, they’ll think I have what they’re looking for and come after me next.”

  The phone? Could it be James’ phone they were looking for?

  “Think, Stella, think hard. Do you know what they were looking for? Did James mention anything to you, show you something maybe?” Clair asked eagerly.

  She shook her head. “No and I’m telling you the truth. We rarely talked about his work, especially lately. He was more secretive than normal.” Stella checked the time on her phone. “I’ve told you all I know, now if you’ll excuse me my sister is expecting me back today.”

  ****

  Clair threaded her mother-of-pearl earrings through her earlobes, the final addition to her outfit. Her stomach had been in knots all day, even after she’d fed the information about the break-in at Stella’s back to Mason. He’d promised to call in and see Detective Anderson before heading back to his mate’s place to get ready, which just made her worry more. A knock at her bedroom door startled her.

  “Are you almost ready in there? Liam’s here to pick me up and I want to see your dress before I go.” Charlotte’s voice called from the hallway.

  Clair took one last glance at herself in the mirror and smiled. Her dress fitted snuggly to her figure and with the pearl choker and her unruly red locks secured in a French roll, she really did feel like a princess heading to her ball.

  Satisfied with her appearance, she took a deep breath and opened the door. “Wow, Charlotte, you look amazing,” Clair said, her heart warming as she leaned in for a hug. She was blown away by Charlotte’s dress and the way it hugged each of her curves. “You don’t scrub up too bad.”

  They both giggled.

  Charlotte stepped back and her glittered gaze washed over Clair. “It seems I get it all from you, sis. You look absolutely stunning. Mason is not going to know what hit him when you open that door tonight.”

  Clair blushed. “I hope so.”

  “He won’t be able to take his eyes off you. You look like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but with red hair.”

  Clair burst out laughing. “Don’t be silly, I do not.” Do I?

  She turned to look at her reflection one more time, twisting the stray ringlets around her face. “Do you really think I look like Audrey Hepburn?” she asked, a nervous energy shooting through her veins.

  “Better,” Charlotte said giving Clair a goodbye kiss on the cheek. “Liam and I will meet you there.”

  “Okay.” Butterflies welled around in her stomach as Charlotte left he
r alone with her frayed nerves. It felt like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Every time a glimmer of hope seeped into her heart, it was squashed just as quickly by the darkened cloud hanging over her future.

  Two little words beat inside her head like a timpani drum. No distractions. She’d do well to keep that in mind this evening. The shrill of the doorbell made her jump.

  Here goes.

  Chapter Twelve

  MASON PACED CLAIR’S steps, his heart running its own race inside his chest. He couldn’t believe he made it in time, after the dreadful day he’d had. It was bad enough that he couldn’t hire a suit, he had to buy one, and then he spent most of the afternoon with the police, dealing with the break-in at his father’s house. He’d fed the information about Stella to Detective Anderson, but he didn’t know what good it would do. Anderson was no closer to finding the murderer than he had been the night it happened. What will it take, another murder before they realise they’re wasting time?

  He rang the doorbell and waited. A cold shiver ran up his spine. What if they had tried to break in when he and Clair were there? She could have been seriously hurt or killed. Fear simmered and boiled up in Mason’s throat at the thought. He wasn’t trained in martial arts, but he’d sparred enough at the gym to defend himself. He knew in his heart that he would have and will do anything to protect Clair. She’d wormed her way into his closed heart and now he couldn’t imagine not seeing her warm smile.

  The door swung open and all the air escaped his lungs in one big whoosh. Clair was a picture of pure beauty. “Oh…my,” he said, barely able to string two words together. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled under the burnt orange haze from the evening sunset. She did a little twirl and his heart skipped a beat.

  Her eyes widened. “Where are your glasses?”

  “Contacts,” he said, pointing to his eyes. “Do you mind?”

  “Mind? Not at all.” Clair nodded toward her outfit. “You like?” she asked.

  The shy glow in her cheeks almost matched the colour of her hair. “What’s not to like?” It was going to be harder to keep focused tonight then he thought. “You look amazing.” He held his hand out waiting for her touch.

  “Thank you,” she said, threading her hand in his.

  His heart seemed to have overridden his brain and he pulled her close to within an inch of his electrified body. She gasped and her lips opened. He could feel the heat from her hand seeping through his. He prayed she didn’t scold him for what he was about to do. He leaned in and his lips met hers.

  The feel of her lips against his sent quivers of pleasure shooting through his body. She met his lips eagerly, her arms snaking around his neck. He knew he should have waited, as she’s asked last night, but he couldn’t help it. He’d never met another woman that made him feel so alive. After the real murderer was caught, he planned to stick around, if she’d let him. Which meant their attention tonight had to be on the dinner guests, not each other.

  Reluctantly, he pulled away. Looking at her under the glow of the sunset, his heart somersaulted in his chest at how beautiful she was. He fought the urge to pull her close and kiss her again. “I’m sorry, but you just looked so beautiful.”

  Clair placed a soft finger over his lips. “It’s quite all right. One kiss won’t hurt and I’m hoping there might be some more when this is all over.”

  He smiled. “It’s a promise,” he said, holding his elbow out. “Now, how about we head to this shindig?”

  Clair pulled the door closed behind her and threaded her arm in his. He looked down at the grey pin-striped, three-piece suit as they headed toward his car. “I feel a tad underdressed next to you.”

  “Seriously? I happen to think you look like a million dollars,” she said with a beaming smile. “Don’t forget to keep your eyes and ears open for anyone acting suspicious. Most of the town will be there, so if people are going to gossip, it will be tonight.”

  ****

  Clair sat down on the chair in the ladies’ restroom, placing her black handbag beside her on the chair. She flicked her shoes off, exhaustion settling in every inch of her body. Since Stella was no longer a viable suspect, she’d hoped to corner Norman Gorson this evening, but that notion was instantly shot down since he hadn’t arrived.

  She’d smiled, greeted, eaten and even danced the night away and still, she was no closer to finding the murderer. Of course, Mason had been a hit with the women in town, even the married ones.

  Clair’s body tensed. It’s those glasses or lack thereof. The women in town finally saw what she’d seen from the beginning and she didn’t like it one bit. Realisation hit her like a cement truck. She was jealous. Her mother had always called jealously the “green-eyed monster” because it brought out the worst in people, and she was right.

  Clair scolded herself. Mason had done nothing to sway her belief in him.

  A tall blonde woman exited one of the stalls eyeing Clair as she sat rubbing the soles of her feet. “Sore feet?”

  “Evening, Emmerson. My feet haven’t been this sore since…” Clair paused and raised her eyes to the roof, the cogs in her brain ticking over. “Nope, they have never been this sore. Ever.”

  Emmerson giggled and pulled a scarlet-red lipstick out of her purse and began pulling distorted faces in the mirror as she made touch ups. “Well, like I always say, women should wear them more often. That way they’ll be used to them when it comes to occasions like tonight.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Leah said joining Emmerson at the mirror. “We were just talking the other day about how we should start a business here in town, teaching women about fashion and beauty. Isn’t that right, Em?”

  “Ah huh.” Emmerson nodded. “It’s like I’ve been saying, if there were fashion police, some of the women in this town would end up in jail. I wouldn’t be caught dead in some of the outfits they go around town in. Leah and I even started a graduate diploma in fashion and textiles, proving that we’ve got what it takes to make it.”

  Clair lowered her head to hide her smile. They meant well and they had hearts of gold, but the fashion police? Clair replaced her shoes and stood. “I guess I’ll head back to the celebrations,” she said, realising the ladies hadn’t even heard her speak above their conversation. It was as if she were invisible. I’ll leave you to your fashion problems. I’ve more important fish to fry.

  “Take that Christina Jacobs, for instance,” Leah said, shock emanating in her words. “That outfit she has on this evening is gorgeous and she has the figure to do it justice, but the colour is positively disgraceful. No-one in their right mind wears tangerine anymore, especially mixed with barf green.”

  Emmerson cut in. “I know, shocking. My dad was telling me just this morning she had the nerve to try and cheat on her taxes.”

  Christina lying on her taxes? What is it with people in this town, have good old-fashioned morals gone out the window? Don’t they know how to tell the truth anymore?

  Emmerson continued, “Apparently, she tried to claim some public relations course she was supposed to be doing over at Watson’s Creek, but she didn’t even take it.”

  Clair froze and her ears pricked as Emmerson’s words slammed into her chest. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Her mind was working double time. Was that the same public relations course James Hapworth was supposed to be taking? Come to think of it, Clair remembered Christina leaving James’ Watson Creek office last week, when she was in town buying supplies. Clair pinched the bridge of her nose. She seemed to have more questions than answers.

  Were they in it together? Maybe Christina was the woman James referred to in the message, but why did he want to change her mind? About what? What if she made up the whole curse nonsense about the Sweets mansion and why did she print that garbage in the paper, depicting me as a killer? Is she covering for the real killer? A darkened thought shattered her very being. Is she the killer? The missing phone. Thanks to Detective Anderson being so open in the spirit of cooperation, Chris
tina was the only other person who knew about James’ missing phone. Why hasn’t she printed that in her paper? Why keep it a secret? Unless she has an ulterior motive.

  Could the murderer really be Christina Jacobs? Clair’s thoughts were starting to form a tangled mess inside her mind. While she didn’t have all the answers, there were too many coincidences to let Christina walk away without finding out her side of the story. Adrenaline shot through her veins as she raced out of the ladies’. I think you and I need to have another talk, Christina Jacobs. And this time I will get the answers I need.

  Clair’s heart raced and her cheeks hurt from smiling as she dodged guests, compliments, and heartfelt embraces on her way back to the ballroom. They’ve already unveiled the cupcake display?

  Charlotte had come up with a unique cupcake design depicting an original Ashton Point as it had been, back when old Peaberry first discovered it. It seemed by the overwhelming accolades she was receiving, it had been a huge success. A success Clair would revel in after she found Christina.

  Clair threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. “Where are you, Mason?” she muttered straining to look above the crowded room for his striking physique.

  “Clair, what’s wrong,” Charlotte asked as she joined her sister, her brow creased with concern.

  Clair felt the blood drain from her face as she spotted a ball of tangerine and barf green heading for the exit. Christina?

  “Clair, what’s going on?” Charlotte demanded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped, brushing Charlotte’s concern away. But my chance to get some real answers is about to walk out the door. “Have you seen Mason?”

  “No, not for some time. I know he was on the dance floor earlier, first with Emmerson and then with Christina.”

  Clair’s gaze whipped to Charlotte’s worried expression. “He was dancing with Christina Jacobs?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Until I rescued him.”