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Creepy Cake Murder

Page 2

by Rosie A. Point


  The most popular one this year, it seemed, was the clown from It, and it gave me the chills. There were so many variations of mean clown, evil clown, and bloody-mouthed clown, it was hard to keep track of who everyone was.

  “Welcome, welcome,” Franklin said, appearing in a clown costume, as well. He was recognizable only by his bulbous nose and slightly stained teeth. And because he walked through the house with his chest puffed out. “Thank you so much for coming. There’s punch in the living room, as well as food on the buffet table. Be sure to mention how much you enjoyed the party to the mayor when he comes by. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Emmaline.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but Franklin had already moved off.

  “Great host,” Bee muttered.

  I nudged her in the ribs, and we wandered into the living room. I grabbed us a few cups of non-alcoholic punch and handed them out. It was tempting to stand against the wall, trying to figure out who everyone had come as, but Sam drew loads of attention in her awesome knight costume. Soon, we were surrounded by a gang of clowns and witches and vampires, all chatting and admiring her.

  “I love this fabric,” one of the clowns said, grabbing hold of the thick cloak that hung around Sam’s shoulder. The clown’s voice was familiar, and I frowned, trying to place it. It was female, light and airy. “Where did you get this?”

  “I made it myself,” Sam said.

  “Well, that’s just—”

  “Interfering again, are you, Franny?” a second clown asked—this one was large and overbearing, with a belly that stretched the cheerful, fake blood-stained front of his shirt. “As is your way.”

  “Excuse me?” the female clown bobbled her head, releasing Sam’s cloak.

  Sam immediately stepped back, placing distance between her and the two clowns. A few of the other costumed partygoers gathered around, watching from behind masks or makeup. This was the way of small towns, most specifically of Carmel Springs. People were inquisitive. And they always had time for a fight.

  “You heard what I said.” The big clown put his fists on his hips.

  “Who are you?”

  The clown removed his fake nose and glared at her.

  “Gregory Michaud,” Franny, the female clown said, tapping her oversized shoe on the carpeting. “What are you doing here? I thought you and your sister didn’t attend parties. Too poor, is what I heard.”

  My eyes widened. That was mean. Sam had shrunk back further and we did the same, watching from afar. The voices of the two clowns were so loud, we couldn’t get far off enough to avoid being witness to the argument.

  “You stay away from me, Franny, and you stay away from my sister.”

  “Who are these people?” Bee asked.

  “The big clown,” Sam whispered, as the argument continued, “is Gregory Michaud. He lives next door to Franklin, and he’s new to town. He moved into his sister’s house last week. Theresa. She’s such a sweetheart.”

  “Wait, Theresa? She was the one who was at the truck this morning. She had an argument with a clown.”

  “The clown,” Sam said, pointing to the smaller of the two, “is Franny Clark. She’s Theresa’s sworn enemy.”

  “Sworn enemy?” Bee asked, raising a silver eyebrow. “What is this, a range war?”

  “Well, it would be if Theresa and Franny lived next door to each other. But they don’t,” Sam continued. “Apparently, the whole argument started years ago, when Franny stole Theresa’s husband.”

  “Whoa. Really?” I asked.

  “You stay away from my sister!” Gregory poked Franny the clown on the shoulder then spun on his heel and strode off.

  Franny the clown rolled her eyes. “Well, that was fun.” She gave a sour little laugh then walked off into the crowd, going in the opposite direction to Gregory.

  “Goodness,” Bee said. “I had no idea people here had time to be sworn enemies.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sam asked. “Carmel Springs is renowned for its Halloween festival and its sworn enemy duos. There were even famous ones, you know. The Giggler and the Misfit. They came from Carmel Springs.”

  I shook my head.

  “You haven’t heard of them?” Sam asked, as the music started up in the living room. Clowns and masked strangers cried out, laughed and clapped their hands, dancing along.

  “The Giggler?” I asked.

  “Correct. The Giggler and the Misfit. That’s what they were known by back in the 20s. There’s even a statue of them in the center of town. Basically, they were the first dueling sworn enemies in Carmel Springs. Legend has it, they fought over a lobster fishing boat. The Giggler wanted the boat, the Misfit stole it from him.”

  “And then what happened?” I asked.

  “They declared themselves enemies and dueled to the death,” Sam said, taking a slurp of her punch, “using feathers.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, they didn’t actually die. It was just a term they used for effect. The terms of the duel was that the first person to laugh lost the boat. The Giggler laughed first, the Misfit won the boat, and ever since then, Carmel Springs has had a rich history of sworn enemies.”

  “Wow.” What else could I say? I could hardly make sense of it. “So, um, this Franny and Theresa the vampire are carrying on the trend?”

  “Correct,” Sam said. “Though, I don’t think they’ll be using the feather duel any time soon. Those two ladies don’t go anywhere near each other. Theresa runs the tea and cookies club, and Franny’s in charge of the reading club.”

  Before I could ask Sam for more detail, a masked matador swept me onto the dancefloor and twirled me around. I would’ve been embarrassed, but the spirit of laughter, dance and fun was thick on the air, and I enjoyed it instead.

  After all, it had been such a struggle getting folks in Carmel Springs to accept us. This felt good, even with a pratfall of clowns watching my every move.

  “What a night,” I said, as I locked the food truck in front of the guesthouse.

  Sam stood in front of it, clutching her cloak around herself in the cold, and Bee made a humming noise under her breath, sound a little too much like the namesake she was dressed as.

  “I need a good cup of coffee before bed,” Bee said.

  Sam gave her an odd look.

  “Bee likes to think that coffee makes her drowsy,” I said. “It’s one of her tamer quirks.”

  We trudged up the front steps of the guesthouse, the candles burning low in the lanterns, now, and Sam unlocked it. There weren’t too many people staying at the Oceanside this week, but those that were had their own keys to get in and out.

  The hall was warm, and Trouble the kitten meowed and leaped off the reception desk, his yellow eyes glowing and his tail poker straight. He purred and wound between Samantha’s legs then rubbed up against the edge of my Sherlock Holmes coat.

  “It’s good to be home,” Sam said. “We’re going to need all the rest we can get.”

  “What for?” Of course, Bee and I would be out on the beach serving up our creepy cakes, but why would Sam need the rest?

  “Halloween in Carmel Springs is an all weekend event. Tomorrow’s Friday. There will be another night of carnival rides and trick or treating. And after that, there’s the banquet at town hall. And, oh, of course, I’m having an invitation only event of my own, as well. There will be plenty of parties too.”

  “You sure know how to celebrate,” I said.

  Sam grinned. “We do. But, if you don’t mind, ladies, I’m going to take Trouble upstairs. We need our beauty sleep.”

  “Ditto,” Bee said.

  But I wasn’t tired yet. “I think I’ll go out on the back porch and have a cup of cocoa, instead.”

  We said goodnight, and I hurried upstairs to change into my slippers and fix myself a cup of hot cocoa. I came back down and sat out on the back porch, huddling in one of the comfy blankets Sam left out for the guests who liked to sit out here and admire the view.

  There
was a lovely one now—the moon hanging over the ocean, the sky cloudless and inky black. Moonlight glimmered along the white sands and highlighted the craggy black rocks to the far right. I sipped my cocoa and swilled the warm deliciousness around my mouth then swallowed.

  Two figures appeared on the beach. They walked along together then stopped then started walking again. The pattern continued until they disappeared from sight, and I frowned. What on earth had that been about?

  I shook my head and dismissed it. It was Halloween—the spooks had gotten to me. Carmel Springs was pretty safe and people walking along the beach together was a normal thing.

  Still, the strange question marks remained in my mind until the cocoa was finished and I was sleepy enough to go up to bed.

  4

  Bee and I had opted not to wear a second set of costumes for the next day of the Halloween celebrations, but it seemed we were the only ones. We’d pulled up on the beach that morning to find a few ghouls, ghosts, and vampire slayers waiting to buy their treats.

  Folks really did take the celebrations seriously in Carmel Springs. But it was kind of nice, if I was honest, to think that there was such a sense of community in the small town.

  “Happy Halloween,” the first customer said, as she accepted her green and pink striped box.

  “And to you.” I waved her off and dusted off my apron.

  It was still early, and the morning customers who liked to pop in before they hurried off to work were gone. Likely, we’d have a reprieve of about fifteen to twenty minutes before the new set of customers arrived.

  “Here you go.” Bee handed me a hot cup of coffee. “On the house.”

  “Very funny. But can I get one of those cupcakes on the house too?” Not exactly the healthiest breakfast around, but it sure was delicious.

  “Would you like the spider topped cupcake or the skeleton? Or a black cat?”

  “Black cat will do just fine,” I said.

  Bee handed one over, and I immediately peeled back the paper and tucked into it, relishing the sugary, buttery goodness of the frosting. Bee had one too, and we ate our cupcakes, sipped out coffees, and studied the shoreline.

  It was a cloudy day but glimmers of sunlight broke through every now and again and played across the cool gray ocean. This view was a treat, really, and I could appreciate it now more than ever thanks to the fact that business was finally back on track.

  Bee yawned behind her coffee cup. “I’m too tired to function today. All that Halloween excitement was too much for me.”

  “You’d better get used to it. According to Millie, there are loads of festivities lined up. And did you see the way that vampire slayer looked at me? Clearly, we should have remained in costume for today.”

  “There’s no way I’m dressing up as a bee two days in a row.”

  “Why not? I thought it was cute.”

  “And sweaty,” Bee said. “And I keep knocking into things and getting stuck in doorways. Besides, the joke’s over. It was cute for one day, but for two? That’s just gratuitous comedy.”

  “Heavens, I didn’t know you were a joke snob.”

  “You learn something new every day,” Bee said, and chuckled.

  She was right about that, though. I had learned something new about her every day since we’d started working together, probably because I’d known so little about her to start with. Bee’s background was still a mystery to me, and I wasn’t one to pry.

  We finished off our coffees and readied ourselves for the next set of customers.

  A flash of something on the ocean caught my attention, and I searched for it. But no, there was nothing there. Just my imagination. For a second there, I’d been sure there had been some kind of black thing floating in the water.

  I shook my head. Head in the game, Ruby. You’ve got sales to make and a life to enjoy in Carmel Springs.

  The customers arrived in drips and drabs at first, but the crowd of folks seeking out their morning sugar rush soon swelled around the front of the food truck.

  Coffees, cupcakes and treats were served, money was tendered, and people left happy. The ebb and flow of food and customers was interrupted by a shrill screech. And then another. And another.

  The cries hadn’t come from the gulls now gathering near the benches, but from the people nearest them.

  “What’s going on?” a man called out.

  Another scream rang out and then the crowd parted just enough to give me a brief glimpse of the water and the beach.

  My heart fluttered.

  “Not again,” I whispered.

  “What is it?” Bee nudged closer, holding a half-filled coffee cup in her hand. Not that it mattered, just about everyone had turned from the truck to stare at the beach.

  “It’s a body,” I said. “Another dead body.”

  And indeed, on the pale sand lay the body of… a vampire.

  5

  “Everyone stay back. Stay back! This is officially a crime scene,” Detective Jones called from where the overlook petered off into the long sandy trail that led to the beach.

  The police had already set up a line to cordon off the area, and the body had been shielded from view. Naturally, the crowd of onlookers around the food truck had doubled—news traveled fast in Carmel Springs.

  Another murder. And right on the beach. Right in front of our truck.

  “He can’t pin it on us this time,” Bee said, placing a hand on my back. “Don’t worry, Rubes.”

  “I know, but still.” I gave her a look, my face cold, likely because I’d gone pale. “Another murder. Here. And we witnessed it again.”

  “Not technically witnessed it.” Bee sighed and walked to the coffee pots. She poured more into two cups and brought one over. “Look on the bright side, at least this time they weren’t killed with your marzipan.”

  I shuddered at the thought—in the short while we’d been in Carmel Springs, we’d had our fair share of brushes with murder. “I wonder who it is. How terrible.”

  Bee shook her head. “Really unfortunate, isn’t it?”

  “I feel bad for the people in this town. They can’t catch a break.”

  “It’s got me thinking… just what kind of murder town did we come to?”

  I pinched Bee’s elbow. “Things happen, Bee. It’s not like the town is inherently evil.”

  “Hmm. Maybe it’s cursed.”

  “Maybe you’ve been reading too many spooky stories.” I’d caught her asleep in an armchair in her attached suite, a spooky horror book propped open on her chest.

  “It’s Halloween,” Bee whispered. “I’m allowed to enjoy a little pulse-pounding fiction.”

  “Except you’ve got dark circles under yours eyes,” I said. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m just worried about you. You’re my star baker and my friend. I hate seeing you tried and cranky.”

  Bee’s frown broke, and she offered me her signature gap-toothed grin, instead. “Fine. You wore me down. I’ll cut back on the scary stories, but that doesn’t change things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bee nodded to Detective Jones who stood with his fists on his hips, talking to one of the bystanders—one of our customers who held a Bite-sized Bakery Box in trembling fingers.

  “I get the feeling that Jones is going to find a way to pin this on us,” Bee said.

  “Impossible. This time, we weren’t anywhere near the body.” I paused, rolling the cardboard coffee cup holder against my palms. “Really, I can’t stop wondering who it was.”

  “I might have an answer for you.” Gray-haired Millie, the editor of the local paper, appeared. She’d opted for a butterfly costume today, complete with multi-colored wings that wobbled as she moved. One of them struck a bystander, who yelped and side-stepped as if Millie was about to pounce. “Sorry, dear. Ooh, everyone’s so jumpy.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Bee said.

  “You have a smart mouth, dear, and thankfully, a smart brain to go with it,” Mill
ie replied. “You mentioned the murder? What did you see?”

  I broke it down quickly for her—after all, there hadn’t been much time to witness anything. There was the scream, the body, and the cloak.

  “A Halloween costume,” Millie said.

  “Assuming, of course, it’s not a real vampire we’re dealing with here.”

  “Bee, I told you, you’re reading too many of those spooky stories.”

  Millie leaned one arm on the countertop, her multi-colored wing bobbling behind her. “Interesting. Now, there were several vampires roaming around last night, but I have it on good information that one of them went missing in the early hours of the morning.”

  “Oh?” My eyebrows arched.

  “Theresa Michaud,” Millie whispered. “I was up late last night, helping the cleaning committee sort out the stalls after yesterday’s debauchery, as well as managing the ambulance calls.”

  “Ambulance calls?” I asked.

  “Oh, Detective Martin passed out from heat stroke,” she replied, waving a hand like it wasn’t of any consequence. “But, while I was there, I heard one of the wives of the on duty police officers complaining that she had to clean up all by herself. Apparently, he was meant to come help her out but couldn’t because a missing person’s case had just been laid for Theresa Michaud.”

  “I thought you had to wait a day or something before you reported someone missing. We saw Theresa yesterday morning.”

  “Oh no,” Millie said, waving again, “that’s just what Hollywood wants you to think. You can report someone missing right away, especially if they went missing under suspicious circumstances. So, I think we’ll find that the body of the vampire is, in fact, the body of Ms. Michaud.”

  “Wait a second,” Bee said. “That’s the same Theresa who Sam told us was in the midst of a non-range war with the clown from last night, Franny. They had a fight over the cookie yesterday morning, right?”

  “That’s my best guess.” Already, the cogs whirred away in my mind.

  Theresa the vampire had been fighting with Franny, the clown. It was easier to categorize them as costumes in my mind, since I wasn’t exactly best friends with either of the women. Bottom line was, they had been sworn enemies according to the local gossip mill, and who better as a prime suspect but the sworn enemy of the victim?

 

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