Pound Cake Predator

by Constance Barker

  "That's certainly something to note." Stella set the tray of coffee down on the end table and cleared away the magazines and books she had sitting on the surface. "Why don't we lay all of the other physical evidence down here and see what we can see."

  "Speaking of notes, I found these." I reached into my pocket to pull out several pieces of torn paper, my brow knitting as I tried to make sense of the mess. "It looks like it's part of some kind of autobiography, but I can't be sure."

  "Good find dear, let me take a look at those." Vivian adjusted her glasses and narrowed her eyes, focusing intently on the papers spread out before us. "It seems like you're right but I can't quite figure out what to make of the ones that are ripped up."

  Stella joined her friend on the couch and squinted at the papers. "It may take us a while, but Vivian and I will work on piecing these together. Was there anything else you noticed inside that struck you as odd?"

  I rubbed my chin, trying to think back and picture every inch I searched just moments before. "Nothing really, besides the liquor bottles and these notes, everything seemed perfectly in place."

  Masie agreed. "Just the typical stuff you'd expect to see in the home of an Elvis impersonator. Gifts from fans, music records, and all the memorabilia you could imagine."

  We sipped our coffee for a few moments more, trying to remember small details that might have been important but coming up short.

  Eventually, Stella sighed, stretching as Vivian worked harder to fit the torn pieces together like a puzzle. "Alright then, we'll keep working away here and give you a ring if we have a breakthrough."

  "Good work, ladies. We'll be in touch." Vivian waved, and Stella collected our empty mugs before walking us to the door.

  Once Masie and I said our goodbyes, we headed back to my place and debrief. "Did your landlord ban liquor as well?" She laughed as we sat on the sofa.

  "No, but I do think we should keep a clear head, at least for a while until we figure this whole thing out."

  My guest agreed, then reached for a discarded notepad and pen I left on the couch. "Let's get to work then. What reasons would a person have in order to kill an Elvis impersonator?"

  "His hair wasn't slicked back well enough?" I quipped, and we both broke out into a fit of giggles.

  "Maybe he got the lyrics wrong or played a wrong note," Masie added with a wink.

  She wrote those theories down to start our list, but I couldn't help but think with guilt that we should approach the matter more seriously. Someone had died, and Elvis impersonator or not, the mystery of his murder was in our hands. It was up to us to bring him justice.

  Before Vivian paid the price.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, I had Masie prep the shop for me. Now that she was back, I needed her to take over while I worked on the investigation for a bit.

  I put her in charge of getting the chocolate prepped for me for my heart chocolate pops while I went down to the local newspaper office.

  Because our paper was so small, the offices weren’t very big. A receptionist stopped me in the entrance way.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m here to see Clive Banks. You can tell him it’s Colleen Foster.”

  The receptionist picked up the phone and called Clive. She spoke to him for a bit before hanging up.

  “His office is right back there, Miss Foster,” she said, pointing in the direction of Clive’s office.

  I thanked her and made my over to Clive. He was a journalist at the local newspaper. Women often swooned over him because of his classic movie star good looks. I knew he was wilier than an old coyote and I would be immune to those charms. Especially since I knew there was often a self-serving, snooping, no-good purpose behind them.

  Ever since he wrote that horrible news story about me, I knew I couldn’t trust him. But I had to keep my cards close to the vest because he may have information I needed.

  His office was small and filled with stacks of papers and books. A computer and office phone sat on his desk. He moved the keyboard out of the way to make room for his breakfast. The early morning light shone in through the only window.

  I knocked on the door frame as I entered. He looked up and smiled.

  “Coco, what brings you here this morning? Please, sit down.” He gestured to the two chairs facing his desk. I sat down.

  “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” I said. “I wanted to get in here before the lunch rush.”

  “I can always make time for you, Coco.” I noticed him give me a quick look up and down. I shifted in my seat. “If I'd known you were coming, I would have put in an order from you instead.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t at the bakery for very long yet to get anything good together,” I said. “Just long enough to set Masie up for the day.”

  “I see. Say, have I told you about this new story I’m working on?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  He leaned back in his chair. “It’s really great. I’ve never worked on anything this good before. I swear, Coco, this one is going to get me into the big leagues.”

  “Really? That’s amazing.”

  “If you’re interested in writing at all, I can always put in a good word for you here,” he said with a wink. “After this gets published, they’ll do whatever I want.”

  I shook my head. “That’s okay. I have a lot on my plate already, what with The Mad Batter and my personal life and Logan...”

  “Logan? So that’s still going on?”

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  “So are you two like...?” I didn’t want to discuss this with him. I started friendly but now I was cringing.

  He wanted to see if he could still flirt with me or not. I preferred not, but I wouldn’t want that even if I wasn’t seeing Logan.

  “Actually, I had some questions about your big story,” I said, changing the subject. “Does it have anything to do with Franklin?”

  “Is word getting through the grapevine? I knew I was a big fish in a small pond, but I hoped to keep this more under wraps.”

  “Oh, it’s not that. Some ripped up pages of Franklin's turned up and appear like his autobiography. I was hoping that you'd be able to tell me something about them.”

  “Yeah, Franklin and I were writing a book. It was a memoir of sorts about his time in Las Vegas.” He started to laugh. “He was involved with some pretty wild stuff over there.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “Well, you see, Franklin was really giving me the inside scoop about all of the scandals and goings-on of some pretty prominent figures in Vegas. It was stuff that had never leaked before. It was all great. We were going to make a fortune off of it, and I was going to make a name for myself.”

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “He died.”

  I frowned. “That stuff he told you sounds pretty dangerous. What if these things are connected?”

  “Okay, Coco,” Clive moved his breakfast to the side of his desk. He was starting to look frustrated. “He wouldn’t have told me all of that and said he wanted to put it in a book if he wasn’t already sure. Lots of people get cold feet partway through projects.”

  “Isn’t the solution to pull the project then?”

  “Maybe. But he’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that sort of callousness.

  Clive straightened his tie. “I’m a very busy man, Coco, and I have a lot of work to do. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, I think that was it,” I said.

  “Good. Now please leave.”

  I got up and walked out of Clive’s office. I knew once you crossed Clive, it was to leave well enough alone. The receptionist called out to me on my way out.

  “Have a good day,” she said with a wave.

  “Yeah. Thanks. You too.”

  I walked out of the newspaper building and towards Th
e Mad Batter. I knew Masie would be done with her prep, so I would have something to work on as soon as I got in.

  I thought about the ripped up pages of Franklin’s book as I walked. I knew they were a good clue before, but now they made me really suspicious. I wondered what could have made Franklin get cold feet in the middle of the project.

  I wondered if Clive had anything to do with Franklin’s murder. They clearly had a conflict going on with the book. Clive seemed determined to publish it one way or another.

  It was clear that without Franklin’s cooperation, the project would have been dead in the water. But, with Franklin out of the way, Clive had an opportunity to move forward with the project anyway. And he wanted that project very badly.

  The question was if he was desperate enough to kill for it.

  Chapter 11

  The talk with Clive raised more questions than it answered. However, the new theory about what those torn notes may have been was worth the long, confusing chat. I made a mental note to inform Stella and Vivian as soon as possible, and to be sure to tell them that Clive seemed upset as he mentioned Franklin got cold feet about the tell-all.

  We could have another suspect on our hands, but I would let them decide. For the time being, I knew I had to focus on getting back to the bakery to prepare for my least favorite holiday. When I arrived at the Mad Batter, the Valentine's Day decorations already occupied every inch of free space, and I couldn't help but sigh.

  "What's wrong? Should we hang more paper hearts?" Despite my sadness as I recalled the holiday that spelled the end of my marriage, I cracked a smile when I saw Scooter rounding the corner with icing smeared all over his cheek.

  "I think you've hung enough for the next five Valentine's Days." I embraced the teenager and wiped the mess from his face with the back of my hand. "Welcome back. You'll have to tell me all about how your reality show went."

  He laughed heartily, shying away from my motherly touch. “I can’t tell you, you’ll just have to find out when it airs like everyone else.”

  “Are you telling Coco about the show without me?” Masie called from the kitchen. She emerged with an array of treats, accompanied by an over the top display of hearts and flowers.

  Scooter echoed my dismay as we both frowned upon seeing the festive items. “That isn’t the holiday centerpiece, is it?”

  Masie sat everything down on the counter and crossed her arms, visibly offended. “And what if it is? I didn’t see either of you helping with it.”

  “It’s perfect, if you’re planning on scaring people away,” Scooter challenged.

  “Oh yeah? I could say the exact same thing about your decorations. Did St. Valentine throw up all over the store?”

  As the two bickered back and forth, I gathered the strength to put my haunted past aside to help my friends. Yes, my life had changed for the worst on Valentine’s Day, but that had nothing to do with my life now. I had to do my job. And I didn’t sit around pining for my ex, so why should the day he asked for a divorce matter? I took a deep breath. “Hey, can we focus for a moment?”

  My stern voice took the other two by surprise, and they instantly stopped arguing. “But just look at this thing Masie created...it looks like cupid got carried away.” Scooter snickered as he made fun of the creation, playfully nudging Masie in the process.

  “Oh, shucks.” She smiled after swatting back, and began to re-assess her work. “You’re right though, if this centerpiece is going to turn out well, we all need to work on it together.”

  We worked in tandem, stopping only to assist the customers as they came in to place or pick up orders. With Valentine’s Day only a few days away, the business was in full swing with people picking out last minute gifts for their dates. As the holiday got closer, the ache in my heart grew for past hurts and for the loneliness that followed, but I wouldn’t let it show.

  I was surprised to see Vivian and Stella appear at the shop a few hours later with a new face in tow. “Coco, I’d like you to meet Polly Smith, our newest arrival in the village.” Vivian smiled widely as she ushered Polly forward and urged her to shake my hand.

  “Pleased to meet you. Can I get you ladies the usual order of pastries?” I offered, shaking Polly’s hand gently.

  “Yes, give us two of those mango danishes we always get, and one blueberry for Polly. We’re going to people watch so you and Polly get to know each other while we wait.” Stella patted the new woman on the shoulder before scurrying away to the window with Vivian.

  “Are they always this energetic?” Polly asked with a light chuckle.

  I nodded, looking towards the window affectionately after placing the order with Scooter. “They grow on you eventually. I hope you’re settling in alright. I know there’s a lot going on right now in Haverfield.”

  She gave me a knowing look, but assured me that she wasn't worried just yet. “Don’t worry about me, love. The death of some crusty old codger won’t scare me away.” Polly flashed a dazzling smile, and I noticed that she reminded me of an older Grace Kelly. She was very refined and downright beautiful, but there was also something about her that was faintly terrifying.

  “Did you know Franklin well?” I inquired, something within me suggesting that I explore all potential leads.

  Polly’s eyes darted to the women she arrived with, then back to me. “Ah, I spoke to him here and there but never had time for his foolishness.”

  I found her statement odd and resolved to keep digging. “Yeah, he was known as something of a nuisance. Have you been here before then?”

  “I have a niece that lives close by. It became such a struggle trying to get out from Las Vegas to see her, so I made the move a couple weeks back.”

  Hearing Polly mention Vegas piqued my interest. It was only a short while ago that Clive was telling me about all of Franklin’s scandals in that city. Could it be a coincidence, or something notable? “You mentioned knowing Franklin for a while, did you happen to interact with him while he was out in Vegas as well?”

  My question must have taken her by surprise, because Polly’s brows narrowed instantly. “What is this, an interview?” She laughed deeply, placing a well-manicured hand on my shoulder. “Nice chatting with you, dear, but I think those pastries are ready.”

  Scooter walked towards us with three paper bags and a receipt. “The usual, ready to go.”

  “My, what a handsome boy. Thanks very much for the pastries. I’m sure it’s going to be delightful. I do have to get going though, my niece is waiting.” Polly crooned, and we said our goodbyes.

  Vivian and Stella finished their people watching and bid their new friend farewell before flanking my side. After Polly left, I immediately rallied Masie and Scooter to join us.

  “We have another potential suspect.” I began asking Masie to fetch the list we started earlier. “Logan’s coming soon, but we should flesh this out before he arrives.”

  “I heard the conversation.” Scooter admitted. “It was a little strange how heavily she deflected your questions about Vegas.”

  “Yes, but which person out of all of these people on the list, is more likely to want Franklin dead?” I pondered the question, which didn't immediately get a response. However, unlike the centerpiece, this mystery is one that we were all willing to work together to solve.

  Chapter 12

  When Logan finally arrived, all of us had created a substantial list of motives for each of our suspects. I was almost tempted to tell him that we were close to solving the mystery, but he approached Vivian sternly. “I have a bone to pick with you, ma’am,” he began.

  “With me?” She fluttered her eyelashes, feigning innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Just make sure you behave yourself, and perhaps refrain from breaking into cottages from now on.”

  My pulse quickened, but Vivian remained calm. She laughed him off, twirling her hair around her finger as she denied his accusation. “You may have me confused with someone else. May
be we should see each other more often, so you don’t confuse me with the common criminal.”

  “I’m serious Vivian. I know you enjoy playing detective, but crossing police lines is going too far. His cottage and everything in it is evidence now, it’s not a game.”

  She shrugged him off once more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t even been near that old fool’s house, but I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m out for my morning stroll.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Logan promised before turning to me. “Can we speak privately?” He looked expectantly at the others, who in turn looked to me.

  “Sorry everyone, it will be just a minute. Keep preparing for Valentine’s, I’ll be back soon.” They slowly dispersed at my request, and I led Logan into a back room to speak more intimately about the investigation.

  “Is there anything else, anything at all, that you’ve found that may be of interest to me?” He wasted no time in getting down to business.

  Based on his earlier suspicion about Vivian’s break in, I wondered if I was on his short list as well. “Nothing notable.”

  He hummed to himself, stroking his chin as he deliberated silently. “Alright. But there’s something you should know about your friend Vivian.”

  “She didn’t break into Franklin’s house. I know her, she wouldn’t do something like that.” I tried my best to hide the fact that I did the very thing he had accused my friend of.

  “It’s not that.” He peered around the corner to ensure we were alone before continuing. “Some of the officers assigned to the case found that Vivian recently bought a bottle of bourbon.”

  My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to shake the anxiety away. “Is that a crime?”

  Logan pursed his lips. “Besides the fact that alcohol isn’t allowed in the senior community, it’s also suspicious because drugs and alcohol made up the cocktail that killed Franklin.”