“Well, during one of the break-ins I came across the yet unsigned contract in which Marcus was assigned to a whole lot of money from Mr. Gleason’s wealth.”
“He was the only one who knew about my secret. He never judged, though he insisted I should tell my parents. That’s why he never signed the contract. He told me I should man up and take responsibility for my actions, because I could go away with this one, but there are going to be other problems in life. And I cannot go around hiding from them.”
“Now that’s what I call a wise man.” I point out, with a smile on my face, and my index finger in the air.
Braiden takes a sip from his tea, while I, in a stricken way, observe him and relish in his beauty.
“But even after the murder, the unsigned contract didn’t bother me. I had my hopes up that I was going to inherit a great deal of his wealth and I waited for that quietly.”
“What changed?” For some reason, I’m getting so captivated with this story, and coming to think of it, this would probably do for a viral story that Heather so desperately seeks after.
“Kamron. He wanted to put up a fight about the inheritance. Obviously Kamron has an eye for his wealth, and he wants to take it all if possible.”
I look, confused, in the air, and mutter to myself, “That explains his chit chat with that lawyer-looking guy in front of Mr. Gleason’s house. I never found that event uninteresting.”
“Huh,” he mumbles, confused, poking his chin out to me.
“Oh, nothing,” I wave my hand in the air, gesturing for him to proceed.
“But when I realized that Braiden wanted to worm his way into inheriting my uncle’s wealth, and that he was going to put up a fight for it, I realized that this was probably not going to work out for me either.”
“Oh, my God.” I howl, coming to understand something.
“What is it?”
“That’s why you were there that night. You wanted the paperwork! You didn’t want Kamron finding out about it, right?”
“Well, that is it. My cousins and I decided not to step foot into the house, prior the declaration of my uncle’s wishes regarding the disposal of his wealth. I mean, I thought that putting a hood on, and acting like a stranger breaking in wouldn’t raise any suspicion. So I did that a couple of times, since it was so dark, and I was only using my phone as a flashlight, not wanting to grab any attention to myself.”
“Oh, Braiden, I’m so sorry. I treated you very poorly.”
“You didn’t know. And it’s not your fault. Everybody would’ve been sceptic about this behavior.”
“I mean, it is a complicated story, right?” I just want to excuse my behavior that day when I almost accused him of being connected to the mystery.
“But the will has not been declared yet. And I suspect that my uncle put all this money for charity.”
“I wouldn’t put that past him. He was a very charitable man.”
I let him take his time while taking another bite form him cinnamon roll, and then he gets back to me. “So when I found myself so hopeless, I did the silliest thing I have ever done. I burned up my own house.”
“Now that’s something that I still cannot see through.” I note.
“I thought that when my parents found out their house was damaged drastically, they’d appoint me with the duty of restoring it. That means that they’d give me money, which I’d use to pay my due to Marcus instead, which is still the silliest thing, since one way or another they’d found out about it. I disappeared, thinking that my being away would’ve excused the house burning up to the point that it did.”
“About that, were you really staying at Macey’s all along?”
“Well, I was.” He says, uncomfortably.
“Oh,” it’s like something shatters inside me. “Are you two hooking up?”
“Not quite. But,” he stops as if processing his words before proceeding. “It was nothing serious.” He says, as if he wants to make an excuse.
I finish my own desert meanwhile, realizing that a little peaceful time, after this much information is a must. But after that, I squint at something in my head, and ask him. “Why are you telling me all this now?” I mean, it’s not like he’s obliged to.
“Because I’ve seen how you’ve struggled yourself throughout all this mystery. And you’re one of the few people who really cared about me. And I wasn’t able to appreciate that. But I do now.”
These words, I’ve been waiting to hear all my life. It’s like he made me the greatest gift, for which I’m delightfully grateful.
“Thank you for noticing,” I mumble sweetly.
“Thank you for being here when I needed you,” both his big hands grab mine into the table, and his thumbs rub my fingers in a very intimate way.
“So,” I take my hands back to me. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs.
“Oh, Braiden, I wish I had all the money that you need to solve this.”
“Being here is enough,” he rewards me with a smile am I’m swooning.
I’m going to be thanking God for this miracle after this. Today, I’ve been feeling Braiden closer to me than I’ve ever done before. And this is just something so necessary, after everything that’s been going on lately in town. I have his explanations now, and I can see through everything. It’s complicated and stupid somehow, but he’s not the killer. He’s just an irresistible young man who’s made some mistakes. Nothing exceptional.
I look into his eyes, and in the way they sparkle so magically, I can see the most enchanting violet starry night. And that’s something you never want to escape from. I could look into his eyes eternally and adore him.
Heather’s been shocked about Braiden’s explanation, but I made her vow she’d not write an article about him. And besides, Braiden is not famous or anything. I mean, his family is so rich, but still they like to fly under the radar, so I don’t think that this story would be in her professional interests.
My parents decided to take off for today. So here I am, back on duty again. They still insisted that I should keep relaxing, but I just needed to come back today and see what is going on around town. Because the cupcake shop is a great way to get updated on the latest news around town.
“Mrs. Hopper, it’s great seeing you here,” I mutter as soon as the old lady makes an appearance by that door.
“Ainsley,” she greets with an endearing smile on her face. “It’s been a while, dear.”
“It sure has.” I reply.
I’m so delighted today. Not only because Braiden has made me feel as enthusiastic as a teen again, but also because things are going on so smoothly around the shop.
It’s as if everybody is running desirously for their cupcakes these days, and I wonder whether Heather’s party has got anything to do with it. I snub this idea, in an instant, considering how silly and bizarre that is sounds.
But still, it’s so great that my business is redeeming itself.
It feels like everything is suddenly falling to place.
“You’ve no idea who I stumbled upon before coming here,” Mrs. Hopper jumps right into the gossip vortex, before properly adjusting herself on her seat. “Kamron.” She proceeds.
“No way!” suddenly Heather’s attention is all captured.
“He looked very distressed,” Mrs. Hopper proceeds. “But I guess that’s only normal for a man who’s just been dumped by his pretty fiancée.”
“We talked to her,” Heather recalls our brief visit to the hotel when Rylee was taking off. “She was so nice. Until she wasn’t anymore.”
“I never had the chance to talk to her. But I saw her once strolling hand to hand with her boyfriend. Yeah, she was pretty, I guess. But she looked very deceptive to me. Even then I knew she was materialistic.”
“What makes you think so?” I ask Mrs. Hopper. For whatever reason, she seems like she’s in on everyone’s secrets in town.
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“Word on the street is she dumped him because he promised to carry over most of Mr. Gleason’s money. A promise which he later on failed to deliver. And she couldn’t have it anymore. So she took off with her ex-boyfriend, Landen.”
“What’s that about her taking off with her ex?”
I pore over at Heather and I’m shocked. She’s all encumbered into her tablet computer taking notes, and doesn’t take her attention off of the screen for a second.
“Heather!” I demand. “What are you doing?”
“What?” she says excusably. “That’s a very interesting story Mrs. Hopper has got here. Somebody’s got to take notes. So,” she turns to Mrs. Hopper. “You were saying?”
“Oh,” Mrs. Hopper just seems very excited her alleged facts are getting so cherished. “Seemingly, she’s never cut ties with Landen.” Coming to think of it, it’s surprising that she even knows his name. I’m sort of starting to get terrified. “Her deal had consisted in her taking Kamron’s money and then taking off with her ex. But she got bored. I guess there’s only so much a model can withstand. And she ran away. Now I know that Kamron is not to be trusted and all, but he didn’t deserve this.” She mutters to herself and Heather stops typing. Somehow the last sentence didn’t interest her that much for her article.
“What else?” she asks, and I hinge back.
“Heather, you’re not seriously considering to make an article out of this.” I raise an eyebrow at her in a disapproving way.
She gracefully snubs my inquiry and turns to Mrs. Hopper. “What else?”
“It seems like Kamron isn’t as interested in Mr. Gleason’s money as he was before. I guess he’s recovering from what happened with his fiancée. But Kegan on the other hand, has started to show an estimable interest over the inheritance. He’s been running around the city like a creep for the last couple of days taking pictures everywhere, as if he’s making an archeological research in the town. If I didn’t know him I’d say he’d lost is mind. But he’s just too smart for that. So I know that he’s after a hidden agenda. I just don’t know what that is yet.”
Oh, don’t worry, you’ll find out, I want to tell her but don’t.
This is just getting out of hand. With Heather taking notes and Mrs. Hopper spilling more and more. I don’t see this ending well.
“I should’ve come to you, rather than that good for nothing model of a fiancée, Rylee.” She scoffs at the name, distastefully, and locks her tablet computer.
After Mrs. Hopper pays for her cupcakes, I look at Heather harshly, fixing my hands on the counter and maintaining looks with her firmly. She looks at me in the most unworldly way.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking at her focusing on her tablet PC.
“I’ve got an article to write. My way to the top is waiting for me,” she says as if she’s already experiencing her success.
“You’re not really considering writing this, are you?” I raise an eyebrow in a you’re-not-that-stupid way.
“Why not?” she shrugs. I cannot believe she’s really going for this. I know she’s unstoppable, but I don’t think she really understands the consequences this might bring up. “Ainsley, my boss has put me on the line here. He thinks my work is stinky. I have to do something to win his credibility back. And this is my way to it.”
“Except, this is borderline dangerous. You’re interfering with an open investigation. Do you think it is so smart to get involved?”
“I’m a journalist. It is my duty to shed some light for the unknowing people. I have to tell the truth.”
“Except you’re creating this story out of hunches.”
“Hey, these are well-conducted, justified hunches. And besides what kind of journalist would I be if I stuck to the truth?” She makes a determined point.
She’s so stubborn, but hey, who has time to read articles anymore. Maybe she’ll just write some unremarkable newsletter that would go under the radar and no one would notice.
Hopefully.
So much for my insistent fuss!
I let go of my confusion and try to focus on everything that is going on right in my life. Like, Braiden for instance. God, the magic that embraced me when he touched my hand. It was as if all the energy of the entire creation just swept right through me and I felt it all just in an instant. The millenaries rendered into my creature just for a moment into the most intense, magical sensation you could ever feel.
But now that Braiden’s name is checked off of my investigation’s list, I have to focus my attention on finding that murderer. Could it be one of Mr. Gleason’s nephews? I mean, so far, nothing suspicious has occurred around town. So someone connected to the victim would make much more sense of having intentions on killing him.
Meanwhile, Heather is all focused on her tablet PC, typing ferociously, and I’ve never seen her as passionate for doing something as now. So maybe, I should just hold back for a moment, and let her enjoy her unmanageable passion—writing dirt about (probably) innocent people. It’s the same as cooking for me. I’d be so crushed if you’d have to take it away from me. And it occurs to me that I just have to let her indulge in this mean activity that provides pleasure for her.
I’m lingering on my porch, with my usual cup of tea, while the evening breeze pleasantly brushes through my face, as I hug tightly my sweater around me. Coral is waddling underneath the lounge, while I’m relaxing on the wide, comfortable cushions, enjoying this peaceful, magical evening. For some reason, I’m thinking about everything that is going on and a sudden question has embraced me. What would it be like if I’d made different choices? I guess, it is the evening effect—embracing me into thoughtfulness.
Kamron’s presence in town has got me thinking about my ex. Don’t get me wrong, my ex and Kamron don’t look alike and have nothing in common, except for living in the city and being friends. Kamron has visited Lazulville very occasionally. And when I was a child during one of his visits, we have been able to introduce ourselves to one another, but even then he hadn’t given me the friendliest vibe.
He lives so far away, and only came to town because of his parents’ roots and family. Mr. Gleason has always been the one to welcome his large family into his home. But things won’t be the same now.
I don’t want to remember Ryker. What he did to me was just nasty. He used me. Let me think he was in love with me, but all he wanted was my remarkable connections at college and my studying insight.
My mother, meanwhile, has managed to approach, and taken the next large cushion alongside me. She dodges a part of the blanket over her side, and looks at me endearingly.
“What’s with the thoughtful face?” she asks in a mellow way of a mother, and suddenly I feel secure again.
“I was thinking…about the past. About how things would’ve been like if what happened didn’t just happen. If I didn’t meet Ryker at all.”
“No one deserves to go through what Ryker did to you. But you’ve managed to recover just fine. Look at you,” she rubs my hand, joyously. “You made an old cupcake shop go over with a bang, and all by yourself. If you want to take some time off and fetch that degree of yours, then go ahead. Me and dad would take over for now if that’s what you want.”
“I’m not ready just yet,” I tell her, sloughing the blanket off of me, suddenly feeling a dose of warmness run through me.
“Just know, that whenever you are you just have to say the word. And we’ll be here to support you.”
“Thank you,” I smile in an embracive way, and grab my phone off of the patio desk. Scrolling through my apps, I spot something that gets me furrowing.
“What is it now?” my mother asks, noticing my concern.
“It’s Heather,” I tell her. “She’s posted this really eccentric newsletter that I think is going viral.”
“Isn’t that a good thing, you know, for her career?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it good,” I frown at the screen while readin
g through the text.
She’s basically quoting Mrs. Hopper’s words, writing about how Kamron together with his fiancée came to town with a hidden agenda, about Rylee being materialistic and not cutting ties with her ex. But the frosting at the cake is her last sentence: But can family relations denigrate so badly so as to make you kill your own blood just for additional numbers on your credit limits?
Oh, boy, what has she done?
“I don’t think that you even realize how serious this all is,” I tell her, the next morning, in my cupcake shop.
“You’re just making a big deal out of nothing. This is going viral. I wouldn’t change it for a thing.” She looks so proud and doesn’t have a clue about the latent outcome out there.
I tangle with some customer’s orders, while Heather keeps checking progressively her phone looking at the graphics of her success.
“Oh, God. Things are getting out of control. My way to fame; here I come.” She shoves the screen on my face, making me look at the increasing numbers of her success. People are clicking and sharing, posting and reposting. I’ve never seen any of her works get this famous. But I’m still holding to my suspicion here. It’s Rylee’s name that has been a great clickbait, since she’s very famous everywhere. And probably leaving it just at that would’ve been acceptable. But, including Kamron in a story that is drawing so much attention not only in the town is kind of distressing.
Meanwhile, as we’re all focused into Heather’s success, Detective Cassidy is standing in front of me, all inexpressibly as always.
“Heather,” he says in his firm voice. “You finally found a way to show your talent around. Though one thing I don’t understand, what’s so funny about a murder that is getting both you girls so interested in?”
“Everybody loves a good mystery, detective. It gives them reason to think, in a time where everything is running so fast. They just give themselves a reason to stop for a second and ruminate over the suspects.” Heather says delightfully.
Cinnamon And Secrets Page 13
