“It’s just I don’t know that he’s done with me. He kept texting me last night, and Kamron got infuriated.”
“Anyway, make sure to block his number or something. Kamron is a great guy. You don’t want to lose him,” Heather tells her and gets ready to hit the street, once I get back with my orange cupcakes. “I’m going to stop by the house for our plans tonight,” she tells me, making no room for me to disagree and I see her waddling out of the door.
“Are you here on vacation?” I know that it’s none of my business, but with what Mrs. Hopper told me about Kamron being a prospect murderer, I cannot leave it just at that.
“Oh, yeah. Sort of. My groom-to-be and I are working on some legal paperwork regarding his inherited proprieties.”
“Oh,” I mutter vaguely. Mrs. Hopper was right. Mr. Gleason was a very charitable man. As far as I know, he’d spread the best part of his prosperity to those in need. Maybe there’s a hidden agenda behind the beautiful model and her fiancé.
Somehow, I just want to dig dipper. And I know to do that, I have to invade her privacy, so I’m just hoping that she’ll be collaborative.
“I haven’t seen Kamron around, lately, and I hear that he’s been here for a while now. How come?” I’m just hoping that she’ll not suspect me using her. I’m getting out of my own ways here, but something should be done if I want to resolve this case.
“Oh, it’s just that we’re booked in a hotel nearby the town. There would be too many memories here that Kamron couldn’t handle.”
“Right,” I point, suspiciously. But at least, I’ve got what I wanted.
• • •
Later that day I found myself dealing with the customers that stopped by, and when the rush hour started to slow down, I rested my elbows on the counter and looked ahead to the street across the see-through wall.
For some reason, everything had started to seem different, and I really couldn’t accurately perceive why I was feeling the way that I was, but I knew for sure that I needed some company. But Heather’s idea of a night out just didn’t do it for me at the moment. I wanted some time to calm myself down and stay at home.
And here I am now, scratching under Coral’s chin, after having tried to convince Heather to stay in. She just accepted when I came back with a tray full of fresh homemade cupcakes.
“I wanted to take you out tonight, so you could come to realize that there’s much more to appreciate in life than just Braiden,” she chews on her cupcake, holding another one in her other hand.
“I just need his full attention to explain myself. Maybe I can win him back,” I don’t care about what she’s trying to tell me. I just know that I cannot do without him.
“I’ve been here one time too many,” she seems to be having an enjoyable time with the cupcakes. “You have to let yourself through other chances life has to offer, I want you to come off of it. We’ve been through this. Affection comes up, you have to pull the plug.”
I don’t think that I want to pull the plug to him. To my ex, I did that delightfully. But not when it comes to Braiden. God, he’s so irresistible for me to ignore. The aroma of almond-scented candles has filled the room. I indulge myself in the magic of it, and think about Heather’s advice. Maybe it’s not healthy for me to keep thinking about him, when seemingly he might’ve moved on with his life.
But how is one supposed to get over the charm of the most irresistible guy?
My phone buzzes and I bend over the table to reach for it, looking at the screen.
“Mrs. Hopper, what’s up?” I ask, a little startled that she’s calling me at this hour.
“Oh, Ainsley, didn’t you hear? Braiden’s house is all up in flames. It’s all over the news,” she sounds concerned, and my heart leaps in fear.
“Braiden?” I’m feeling all kinds of stressful right now.
“Yeah, I’m running to his house right now to look up for myself,” she sounds like she’s running.
“Is he okay?” I know that I’m not supposed to think about him, and that he’s moved on or whatever, but I cannot stop myself. He’s important to me; more than I can handle.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m closer to his house, now. Oh, it smells like ash everywhere,” I can hear her coughing and I imagine her waving the burning air off of her nose.
“Hang on, I’m going to be right there,” I hang up, get on my feel and reach for a sweater.
“What’s going on?” Heather’s been frowning all along, waiting for me to explain, but the rush of concern in me has taken the better part of me, and I’m just disoriented.
“Hurry up,” I mumble. “We’re going to Braiden’s house.”
Maybe it’s the concern in my voice or maybe the nerve-wracking air around that’s making her oblige immediately, instead of putting up her speech about how I should stay as far away from him as possible; but she tags along, without even knowing what is happening. I’m going to explain it to her on our way to his house.
There are flames everywhere and I move my hands to my mouth and gasp. His house is on fire like an active volcano on its most impressive eruption. How did this happen? Where is Braiden? The firefighters are everywhere, and I feel Heather’s hands clutching my shoulders in a comforting way. I pore over the area within the yellow lines and I see the detective throughout the moving crowd. Out of the confines, townspeople have gathered taking notice of the situation.
When Detective Cassidy approaches, looking busy and occupied, I grab his attention, “Detective,” I mumble and he turns around, meeting my eyes. “Is Braiden okay?” I ask.
“So far, we haven’t been able to suspect anybody’s presence in the house.”
A sigh of relief pushes through me. Thanks God.
“How did this happen?” I point at the three-story house burning to ashes.
“As of now, I’m calling it a suspicious fire. The experts are taking notice anyway. Soon we’re going to have a final decision.”
And then I scowl, as the detective moves away across to his people looking at every relevant detail of the scene. Isn’t it a little strange, you know, his house catching fire in the middle of an open homicide investigation? I cannot help but wonder, does any of this have anything to do with what happened at the party?
“I’m very sure he’s alright,” Heather whispers in a mild voice, and it’s strange how a moment ago she was the one to tell me that I should get over him, and now she’s being all comprehensive, which sure I appreciate a lot.
“Give me your phone,” I tell her, realizing that since I was in such a hurry, I haven’t been able to have grabbed my phone with me.
“Huh?” she doesn’t catch up with whatever I’m asking of her.
“Your phone?” I demand, but I don’t feel like I’m in the mood to give her more information. She does so, and soon her phone materializes in her hand.
I grab it off of her palm and scroll through her contacts, looking for Braiden’s name, and as soon as I find it, I ring him.
“Aughhh,” I gasp, annoyed.
“What is it?”
“He’s out of rich. That’s just weird. His house is burning up to flames and he doesn’t even answer his phone?”
She just looks at me, confused. Seemingly she doesn’t know what to say about it. After a while, Mrs. Hopper finds us, and she comes near with an aura of concern on her face.
“Oh, darling,” she says in her sweet voice, “did you hear anything important so far?”
“Just that it must’ve been intentional. And Braiden’s not answering his phone.”
“Is he okay?” she adjusts her long scarf on her neck and her eyes look so worried and sad, I cannot handle it. It is too much for me.
“Nobody’s heard of him yet.”
“Oh, that’s not good. The man’s house is burning and he’s nowhere to be found.” She mumbles to herself worrisomely, and when she puts it like that, concern captures me altogether. “Maybe you should get some sle
ep,” she points at my tired eyes. “It’s getting so late.”
“But. I want to be here when—”
Heather stops me, “Mrs. Hopper is right. If anything happens, we can come back. Right now it looks like you really need to sleep.”
I look at her in a hesitant way, and surrender. Moving along through the crowd of people, I think I run across someone I know, but my unsteadiness makes it hard for me to comprehend.
“Marcus?” I ask, as soon as I spot him. He looks worried, and is now walking clumsily toward me. We maintain looks and I wait for him, while Heather is still talking to Mrs. Hopper, until we get home.
“Hey, Ainsley,” his voice is soft and mellow. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Do you know where Braiden is? Anything at all?” I ask hopefully.
“Well, I was hoping for you to tell me that,” he grumbles and any tiny hope in me of finding him vanishes.
“I can’t unfortunately. I’m heading home now,” I tell him, “please tell him to call me, if you find him first.” I say with tired eyes and look away at the big crowd.
“Sure thing,” he tells me and suddenly I find a hand in my arm as a sign as support. I take notice of his hand and he moves it away quickly.
After that, Heather joins me and we’re heading home together.
• • •
Next morning, I wake up, squinting at the light that has filled the room to find Heather approaching me with a tray filled with biscuits and lemonade. It’s weird. Whenever she crashes in, I’m always the one to get up first.
“Hey,” she smiles, while I adjust myself in the bed, while she places the tray on my lap. “You’ve been napping so quietly, I didn’t want to wake you.” She says, while I still can’t put up with my confusion.
“What time is it?” I ask, thinking about the cupcake shop.
“Relax, it’s long before the shop opening time,” she tries to calm me and sinks her bottom down on the mattress, eyeing me compassionately. “How are you holding up?”
And then it hits me; everything about last night comes back to me and suddenly I’m captivated by the same pang of hurt. “Is Braiden okay? Have you heard anything from his yet?” I catch my breath trying to catch up with the rush in my voice.
“Nothing so far. He’s a grown man, I’m sure he’s fine,” her brows settle peacefully on her face and I realize that it’s not him being hurt that I fear. It’s this situation reeking of suspicion that has gripped me tightly.
I enjoy the breakfast that she prepared for me and together we head downstairs. The morning has settled itself upon my kitchen also, spreading wide beams of light that make the place look so lively.
Coral perceives my presence and moves from the porch to my legs, rubbing against me and purring, making me realize that it’s food time for him. Pouring milk in his pouch, I let him enjoy his breakfast, while Heather is all encumbered on her tablet checking on every website for further details in regards to what happened last night. Lacking effect, she hoists her eyes at me apologetically, and I just come to figure that it’s not really her fault and yet she’s giving herself such a hard time about it.
As soon as we make it to the cupcake shop, I hand her a cup of coffee, while opting for my tea meanwhile, and I look at her all focused on her tablet computer. I cannot help but smile endearingly.
“Thank you,” I mumble, resting my fingers upon her clenched hands upon her tablet.
“What for?” she looks at me, confused.
“For caring. But you should relax. It’s not like it was your fault or something.”
“I know. It’s just that you were so taken with him and I was trying to get you to get over him, and then this happens. Augh,” she lodges her hands on her face, letting me grab hold of the tablet.
“That was not your fault,” I really don’t understand where this sudden wrap of blame is coming from, but to be honest, I kind of like that she cares. “Try this,” I throw her way my latest creation—a coconut flavored cupcake—in hopes of patching up her mood, and as expected, she delightfully starts tasting it right away.
I know that I have so much thinking to do, but at the same time it feels as though I’m better off postponing it, or for all I care, pulling the plug to it for good.
It’s just that I can’t keep myself from thinking about him; his aureole of allure is bearing upon me unstoppably. I mean, it all reeks of suspicion. His house catches fire, he’s nowhere to be found. And if we take into account all of my doubts about him acting in a conspiring way, then all the more reason for me to keep casting doubt on him.
I’m all focused on my thoughts so I don’t realize when Detective Cassidy makes an appearance. He’s greeting Heather briefly, while she mutters indistinctively with a mouthful of muffin, trying to dispose of her mouth situation, to give him a proper answer.
“Ms. Holden, nice to see you,” he greets me, and I’m getting more and more accustomed each day to him being slightly amicable.
“Hello, detective,” I push forth a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes, but it’s the best I can come up with, with everything that I’ve got going on. “The usual?” I look at him while he nods, but for whatever reason I cannot propel my legs to move, and am standing unflinchingly in place. “If you don’t mind me asking, have the police been able to hear anything from Braiden yet?”
“We’re trying to track him down, but we’re at a dead end so far. No phone signal, no booking records. Wherever he is, he must be near. But as for now he’s out of our suspect list, so there’s no need for us to go after him.”
“But he’s a missing person…” I try to put some reason on his stiff mind.
“No one has filed a report for that, and I don’t think there’s anything that we can do for now.”
I just sigh, trying to hide my annoyance. How can the detective be so clueless? A man’s house flares up and it’s been almost a day and there’s no trace of him anywhere. I mean, I know about that forty-eight hour policy, but if they don’t make a move, I’m going to sign that report myself.
While I deal with detective’s order, I hear Heather catching up with him on whatever conversation that I’m not able to perceive right now. I just don’t know what to do. The man whom I’ve been crushing on for months now is missing. And he probably hates me, but for the last hours since the fire, I haven’t been able to consider that. Somehow it’s slipped my mind, quite unnoticeably. Maybe there’s really no need for me to panic. Maybe he’s out of town and no one can reach him because he must’ve lost his phone, or, I don’t know. I just tried to get in touch using every possible way, calling, texting, emailing, using every single app possible…everything. And then it hits me.
I have to get in touch with Kamron. That means that I have to find his hotel first, but his model fiancée gave me enough information for me to trace them, so I think that won’t be a problem.
I get back to the detective with his coffee in hand, which he grabs quickly, making his payment before he leaves.
“I was trying to dig information from him about Mr. Gleason’s case,” Heather’s explains her brief conversation with him.
“And?” I raise an eyebrow, realizing that with Braiden dropping out of sight, the still opened case has slipped my mind too.
“Well, the man’s a hard nut to crack, but still I managed to get something out of him.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t think he sees you as a suspect anymore. He was acting so mildly even to me, as if he forgot we’re the ones who hosted that party,” her eyes glint with enthusiasm.
Well, one less burden for me that I don’t have to deal with anymore.
Last night I’ve been face-timing with my parents who asked me about how I was doing, and since I felt so exhausted, I might’ve left some unsettling details about my recent life slip by, as in the unknown murderer on the loose, or the constant break-ins into Mr. Gleason’s house, and they became so worried, they booked
up the nearest flight and decided to pay me a brief visit. And by ‘brief visit’ I mean a couple weeks layover.
I mean, I missed them, I did, but constant parental supervision is not exactly what I was looking after at the moment. They came early this morning, and they’re already giving me all sorts of ideas as to how I should manage my time in such a troublesome situation.
I rub under Coral’s chin, when he’s lingering underneath the counter, next to his bowl, while I check my phone to see if there’s any news regarding Braiden, when my mom gives me her next advice, “You should probably stay in today,” she offers and I hinge back.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep the shop up and running as it is? I cannot run it as I please.”
“Me and dad will take over for today,” she says. “You just take some free time.”
Well, coming to think of it, it really doesn’t sound that bad an idea. But my customers rely on me. It’s always nice to see a friendly face when you buy something. But on the other side, I should really take some time off. I need that. To redeem myself. To calm down.
“Okay,” I oblige and she looks me with endearing eyes.
“It’s been a while since when I lingered behind that counter. It’s going to be fun.” She tells me and I think that this idea has got her so cheerful.
Coral looks at me with pleading eyes and I feel like he’s expecting me to spend a little more time with him. Oh, that cat just wants to cuddle more than anything.
When I’m alone at home, I realize that I might use the free time to check into the situation with Kamron and his fiancée. He’s Braiden’s cousin. Maybe he knows something. And besides, I really want to check whether my suspicion about him being the killer is true.
I grab my phone and call Heather, “Are you free right now?” I ask her, going straight to the point.
“Good morning to you too,” she sounds sleepy and I wonder whether she just woke up. “What time is it?”
Cinnamon And Secrets Page 9
