The Cupcake Capers Box Set

by Polly Holmes

  Gullible? Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. Marcus was right. He’d lied to protect me from my own boss. Now she was alone with a murderer and ten minutes to wait for Kayne to show up, that’s if he was on time. Keep him talking. “Of course I didn’t. As if a sophisticated man like you would be interested in a plain Jane woman like me.” Tension rifled through her as she edged away from him. Keep him talking. “I’m sure you have plans for me now that I’ve worked it out, but the least you could do is tell me why you lied and why you killed Marcus. The truth this time, and don’t leave anything out.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “The truth? Are you sure you can handle it? The past four months of your life have been based on a lie. You sure you want to hear it?”

  Alex’s words tried to battle their way from her brain to her mouth, but she only managed to get one out. “Yes.”

  He shrugged and slowly began walking toward her as he spoke. Her feet sprang to life and as he stepped closer, she put more distance and café tables between them.

  “Okay. After Marcus left on Saturday night, I knew he’d found the jewellery so I called him and somehow the conversation got on to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Me and my big mouth. I mentioned on the phone what you were wearing on Saturday night and he put two and two together. I thought the beating I gave him would deter him, but I guess I was wrong. He was only going to stay quiet for so long and when I saw him talking to Hannah and Zoey at the Christmas fair I knew my time was running out.”

  Her time was running out. Panic filled every pore of her body. “It was you that called Marcus while he was talking to Hannah, wasn’t it?”

  A sly smirk turned his lip up in the corner and he clapped. A slow and calculated clap that echoed like a cannon firing in the silent café. “Well done, bonus points for you. Yes, it was me who called him. The silly idiot thought he could hide from me in that Santa suit. I knew when I saw him waiting at your booth he was going to spill the beans. I think deep down he really did love you. But I couldn’t let that happen. I’ve come too far to let him destroy my business.”

  Oh, Marcus. Courage began to take over her fear and her words returned. “He was there to tell me about you and the only way to leave me a message was on my phone. Only you got to him before he could finish it and that’s how you hurt your hand, isn’t it? Killing Marcus.”

  He looked at her like she was bait and the fear returned to her stomach ten-fold. She glanced at the clock. Seven. Where are you, Kayne?

  “You’re too smart for your own good, Alex,” he snapped, heading straight for her. “Time for you to join Marcus.”

  Panic clutched at Alex’s chest and she saw his huge hands lunge for her throat. She tried to turn and run toward the exit but she wasn’t quick enough. He grabbed her right arm and she jerked away, slipping and hitting the floor with an almighty thud. She struggled to breathe, the fall winding her. She gasped. His heavy body was on top of her in seconds, pinning her to the ground.

  “Get off me. Get off me, you psycho,” she screamed. She thrashed and kicked at his hands until he eased his grip and she was able to manoeuvre her body to a standing position. Panting, she scrambled for the door.

  “You won’t get away from me that easily,” he barked, catapulting from the floor and grabbing her in a bear hug. “I can’t have you spoil my plans.”

  “Let me go,” she yelled, tossing her body from side to side until they stumbled face down onto the nearest table. Her eyes caught sight of the full serviette holder and she grabbed on to the metal object and slapped it over her left shoulder, right into Dalton’s face. His shuddering scream was enough for him to loosen his grip and she spun, adrenaline spurring her on and she planted her knee with the force of a martial arts expert right into his groin.

  “Ahhhhhh,” he whimpered as his hands shot to his groin and he fell to the ground.

  “Alexandra.”

  She whipped around at the sound of her name, serviette holder high above her head ready to throw. Struggling to breathe, she froze starring down the barrel of a gun. “Kayne? I thought you’d never get here.”

  “Alexandra,” he said grabbing her hand and pulling her behind him. He held his gun on a moaning Dalton who was trying to push up from the floor. “For goodness sake, stay behind me. Don’t move. Dalton Miller, you’re under arrest for the murder of Marcus Slade.” Dalton accepted defeat and collapsed on the floor. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Alex grabbed his shoulders for support, the piercing sirens in the distance growing louder by the second. Here comes the cavalry. Her body ached from head to toe. She felt like she’d just run a ten-kilometre marathon. “I hope you’re not going to turn up late to all our dates?”

  “All our dates?” he asked keeping his eye on Dalton. “I like the sound of that.”

  Alex smiled. “If you think I’m going to let you off with one date, think again.”

  The café quickly turned in to a scene from Law and Order. She stood securely behind Kayne, his protective frame shielding her from the action. Robert and Clint had Dalton in cuffs within minutes and began to escort him out.

  Kayne threaded his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Her body surged to life, for a different reason this time.

  “Oh, how pathetic,” Dalton snapped as he walked past.

  Rage boomed in Alex’s chest. “Wait.” Robert paused their exit. “I think you, Dalton, are the ultimate definition of pathetic. But you know what’s not pathetic?”

  “What?”

  A streak of triumph filled her chest. “You’re going to jail for murder, so what do you think will happen to this place?” His brows knit together as if unsure where she was headed with her question. “I’m guessing you can’t run it from jail, so I’ll just hang around and wait for it to be sold. And I’m sure my lawyers will be able to pick it up for a steal, considering what illegal activities may have been conducted here.”

  “Come on, time to go,” Clint said, dragging a struggling Dalton toward the exit.

  “You’ll pay for this. Mark my words,” Dalton yelled.

  Kayne held her tight and brushed her messy strands of hair from her face. “Don’t worry about him anymore. Consider me your personal protector. Are you all right? Do you need to go see a doctor?”

  Personal protector. Yes, please. Alex could feel her heartbeat pulsing in her neck. She flattened her palm on his chest and her hand burned under his racing heartbeat. Glad she wasn’t the only one feeling the attraction. “I’m fine and no I don’t need to see a doctor, but you know what I do need?”

  He smiled pulling her closer. “What’s that?”

  “Well, it’s after seven and we are now officially on a date, so I’m thinking a kiss from my hero.” Lost in the moment, her eyes drifted shut and his lips were brushing against hers. Warm and tenderly at first, then pressing harder. She sighed and relaxed into the kiss, revelling in the sweet taste of him.

  Alex felt like she was floating high on cotton-filled clouds. Kayne’s lips explored hers as if time stood still. She almost whimpered as he pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He smiled a sexy smile and squeezed her tight. “But if I know the McCorrson women, they won’t be far behind me and I’m not sure I’d like them to walk in on us making out.”

  Alex giggled and her hand covered her cheeky laugh. I wouldn’t mind making out with you all night, Kayne Pendleton. “I guess I’ll need to make a statement, huh?”

  “That’s usually what happens after you catch a murderer.” He threaded his hand in hers and they headed toward the exit, arms swinging like a new couple. “Tell you what. You come with me to the station and make your statement. I’ll bring Clair and the rest of them up to speed on what happened, and then you and I will start our date without the worry of interruptions. I promise it will be better than you ever imagined. What do you say?”

  You’re better than I ever imagined. “I can imagine a lot,” s
he said, her heart overloading with excitement.

  “I plan on spending my time making every dream come true.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and he twirled her, both revelling in their newfound happiness. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.” She slid down his taut body, their lips meeting in a tender kiss.

  “The best ever.”

  ****

  Book 5 – Dead Velvet Cupcakes

  A stab at the competition.

  Since arriving in Ashton Point, Master Chef Margarete Becker has managed to turn the dilapidated, old Tea 4 Two Café into a thriving meeting place. She draws both locals and tourists with her mouth-watering treats. Her childhood dream is to own her own 5-star restaurant and with the success of the Tea 4 Two Café, that dream could become a reality sooner than she imagined.

  Margarete’s chance to show she has what it takes to run not just a café, but a thriving restaurant arrives when she secures the contract to cater the McCorrson’s 50th Wedding Anniversary dinner. With dessert taken care of, Margarete’s has only the entrée and main course to perfect. A piece of cake….or so she thought. It proves a slice more difficult than expected when the body of a local chef, Margarete’s competition, is found murdered.

  Evidence against Margarete is mounting and it’s obvious someone is trying to frame her. She only has one option; enlist the help of the McCorrson sisters to help clear her name and find the real killer before time runs out and her dreams are shattered forever.

  Chapter One

  “Don’t even think about it, Pierre,” Margarete snapped, her insides ablaze with frustration. Her chef’s knife, dripping in roast lamb juices and maple glaze, waved frantically in front of Pierre’s nose. “The agreement was this kitchen is mine until dessert. You were supposed to cook your cupcake creation at CC’s Simply Cupcakes.”

  Pierre huffed, folding his arms across his perfectly pristine white uniform. His gaze drilled into Margarete. “Yes, that was the plan, but things changed when our lovely council decided to accidentally cut through the water pipes in the alley out the back of the shop. I was halfway through the bake when they informed me that they would be turning off the water to fix their mistake. Now, I have to finish cooking the rest here.”

  Finish here… Are you serious? She shook her head.

  “No. No, absolutely not. I am not going to let the McCorrson’s down. This isn’t only their thirtieth anniversary dinner, it’s also my chance to establish myself in this town as a professional caterer and not just the woman who runs the local café.”

  “Oh my gosh. Margarete, your cheese fondue is a massive hit,” Savannah said as she blew through the kitchen and plonked an empty seafood platter on the counter. “I’m not usually a carb eater. But one of your freshly-made bread rolls dipped in that fondue? It’s to die for.”

  “Thanks, Savannah, but you really should be serving the food, not tasting it.”

  “Call it research,” Savannah said, grinning like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “What if someone asks me what it tastes like? I have to know the answer. Right?”

  Margarete rolled her eyes and returned to cutting the main proteins for the meat platters. Roast lamb, slow cooked brisket and pork studded with delicious apples. “Now, if only I can avoid any more distractions, maybe I’ll have this dinner out on time. Pierre, that was a polite way of hinting that I’m under the pump and need to get back to work. Now, if you’ll excuse me. How are those baked potatoes and glazed veggies coming, Antony?”

  “Delizioso.” Antony puckered his lips and put his fingers to his mouth making a kissing action. Just as she’d seen Italians do so many times on the television.

  She hadn’t believed her luck when the McCorrson’s asked her to design and cook for their anniversary dinner. Charlotte, Clair and Cassidy, the happy couple’s three daughters had stepped back from the kitchen for the night. Even though they ran two successful cupcake businesses, they’d enlisted her skills for entrée and main course. She’d offered to do all three courses, but rival chef Pierre worked with Charlotte at CC’s Simply Cupcakes and he’d already been promised the dessert course, including the cake.

  “Unbelievable.” Pierre threw his hands up in the air and glared at Margarete, clearly ignoring the hive of activity surrounding him. “Do you mean to tell me, Margarete Becker, that you are banning me from this kitchen until after the main course?”

  Margarete spun, fury burning through her. “You can have it when I’ve finished serving dinner. Now, kindly leave or so help me, I…will…make…you.”

  Pierre’s chocolate-brown eyes widened, and his jaw hit the floor. “Well, I never. You’ll pay for this, mark my words. If my red velvet cupcake masterpiece is a flop, it will be all your fault.” He spun on his heel toward the door, huffing as he left.

  Thank goodness.

  A continual stream of sweat trickled down Margarete’s temple. Dinner service was manic. Her staff worked like a well-oiled machine but feeding sixty hungry guests was taking its toll. Thankfully, she’d only had to leave the kitchen for a few times to lend a hand and manage a quick toilet break. “Giving up” was a phrase not in her vocabulary. “This has to be the longest dinner service in history,” she said as she filled more trays with scrumptious food. She barely noticed Charlotte and Clair McCorrson pop into the kitchen.

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around a surprised Margarete. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You have certainly outdone yourself. We knew you were a great cook, but this food is simply divine.”

  Clair chimed in, her smile stretching from ear to ear. “We couldn’t have planned a better meal ourselves. It’s perfect, and Mum and Dad are absolutely blown away. This is the most perfect anniversary dinner ever. And I’ve never seen guests eat so much food before.”

  Margarete couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Earning the girl’s approval was ten times better than winning the lottery. “I owe it to you ladies for giving me a chance.”

  “Your food is wonderful. And I happened to spot one guest out there who’s pretty delicious looking, too, if I do say so myself,” Charlotte said, her hand flying to her mouth to cover a cheeky grin.

  “Charlotte!” Margarete said, pausing momentarily. “What on earth are you doing looking at gorgeous men, even if they are the spitting image of Dr. McDreamy, when you have the likes of Liam Brady hanging off your arm?”

  “Ah-hah,” Clair said as if she’d just solved the secret of the Easter Bunny. She pointed her finger directly at Margarete. “I knew it. I knew it. You did notice him.”

  Margarete rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, of course, I noticed him. Who wouldn’t? He is kinda cute.”

  “Kinda? Kinda?” Charlotte raised her eyebrows as Margarete’s nonchalant tone. “He’s almost better looking than Patrick Dempsey himself.”

  Yes, Charlotte. That fact has not escaped me.

  “Margarete, we need more sour cream for the baked potatoes,” Savannah said, rushing through the door. “You’d think they haven’t eaten in months with the way they are devouring the food out there. Looks like you did it. I bet you’ll have catering bookings flying in after this evening.”

  Savannah’s words excited Margarete. Her insides bubbled with pure exhilaration. She silently prayed that Savannah was right. “You’ll find more sour cream in the cool room. Right hand side on the second shelf. I’m just about finished with these trays, so once you have replenished the sour cream can you come back and take these out?” Savannah nodded, zooming past the other waitress, who was heading out to the floor again.

  Charlotte subtly picked up a bowl of pork crackle pieces. “Anyone for crackle?”

  “Hey,” Margarete said, slotting the last of the sticky pork belly bao buns on the platter. “I was saving that for when service is done. My little treat for when it’s all over.”

  Charlotte shrugged and held the bowl toward Margarete. “Why wait?”

  “Yes, why wait?” Clair said popping a piece in her mouth
. “Surely you can take a five-minute break?”

  Margarete sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She had been working full steam since she’d walked into the kitchen that morning. A smile spread across her face. “Five minutes, that’s all.” She popped a square of crackle into her mouth. The bursting, sweet, caramelised crackle crunched in her mouth.

  “Oh gosh, that’s good,” Charlotte mumbled behind a warm giggle.

  “Mmmmm.” Clair added, licking salt from her fingers, her mouth still full of crackling. “Best pork crackling, e-v-e-r.”

  They giggled and chomped away. Margarete wondered if this was what it was like to have sisters.

  An alluring male voice rang out from behind them. “Um…excuse me.”

  She spun. Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped as she stopped, frozen, face to face with McDreamy himself.

  Oh my gosh. How embarrassing. You would have to come in at the exact moment I take a break and my mouth is stuffed full. Definitely not my best look.

  Margarete smiled and slowly chomped her crackle, but it didn’t stop her insides fighting against every piece she swallowed. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. Cook’s prerogative to taste the food before it leaves the kitchen. Can I help you?”

  He smiled and her heart melted, but then again it did that every time she watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. He edged his way into the kitchen and was standing in front of her in seconds. He extended his hand. “Logan Hunter.”

  Margarete’s gaze dropped to his hand hanging in mid-air. She slid hers in his and he squeezed. Shock waves bolted up her arm and she held on. “Margarete Becker.” She paused as they shook, before asking again. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I was just confirming that there were no nuts in the food tonight. I’m highly allergic. I was told it was all nut free and since everything was prepared so beautifully this evening, I thought I’d come in and ask the chef herself.”