The Icing on the Corpse

by Liz Mugavero

  “This is lovely!” Dede breathed, taking the scene in. “Here, I just have to get the cats.” She handed the dogs to Stan.

  They looked adorable. Lila wore a white tutu with a beaded collar that resembled pearls. Gus wore a black jacket with tails. “Where’s his top hat?” Stan asked.

  She was joking, but Dede reached into her front seat and pulled it out. “He throws it off, so we’ll have to just put it on for pictures.”

  Dede leaned into the car again and returned with two cats on leashes. Mittens and Diamond didn’t look fazed in the least, as if they did this all the time.

  “Wow. Nutty would not be happy with me if I had him on a leash,” Stan said. “How do you get them to do that?”

  “I’ve been taking them on leashes since they were babies,” Dede said. “They’ll have a great time. And I didn’t invite any dogs that don’t like cats. Now, show me the cake. I can’t wait to see it!”

  Stan brought her over to the masterpiece. Dede oohed and aahed appropriately, then whipped out a smartphone and began taking pictures. “I have to put this on Facebook,” she said.

  Facebook? Stan smothered a giggle. Who said seniors weren’t progressive? She welcomed the publicity—they’d complement her own page nicely.

  Guests began arriving in droves. It looked like the entire town’s dog population had been invited. The “reverend,” one of Dede’s good friends who was a real-life justice of the peace, arrived and huddled with Dede to get ready for the vows. Scruffy and Henry were playing with Izzy’s dogs, so Stan didn’t have anything to do until it was time to serve the cake. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Who knew a doggie wedding would make her so happy?

  She grabbed a seat and took a quick break. The ceremony was just about to begin when Jake slid into the seat next to her. He had Duncan firmly on a leash, which was why she didn’t get advance notice that he was there. Duncan tried to jump into her lap. Jake reined him in. He settled for dropping his chin on her leg. She bent down for a kiss. Duncan obliged. She wondered if Jake would.

  “How’s it going? Everything looks great,” Jake said.

  “Thanks. It’s going well. Almost time for the ceremony.” He’d sought her out. Did that mean he forgave her? They’d barely spent any time together after Carla’s arrest, largely due to her wedding planning, but also due to the awkwardness that had popped up between them that neither of them knew what to do with. She was also giving him space as all the news following the arrest flooded the town.

  Arthur had confessed on the record and he was on “house arrest” while they figured out what to do with him. Stan suspected he wouldn’t spend a day in prison. Carmen Feliciano had spoken with him, and while no one knew the details of that conversation, both had seemed at peace with the outcome.

  Cyril Pierce had been released from prison and was writing stories like crazy, at his father’s request. It could be a big break for his career. Reporting on a sixty-year-old cold case involving one’s own father was a journalistic goldmine. What Cyril chose to do with that remained to be seen.

  Even though Don Miller had resorted to bribery—not sabotage, said a structural engineer Jake brought in to inspect the basement stairs in the old library building—to protect his mother from implicating herself in the Constantine murder, he’d been cleared of any suspicion in his mother’s death. Carla had acted alone and the murder was being called a “crime of passion.” Which left Don a single father trying to explain to two young boys why their mommy wasn’t coming back. All around, a sad story.

  But Frog Ledge would move past it with steely New Englander resolve. Today, at least, was a happy day. And Jake was here, sitting with her, so maybe things were going to be okay with them, too. She could only hope.

  “So what are you doing later?” Jake asked.

  The hope bloomed brighter. “I don’t know,” she said. “Why?”

  “I was hoping we could go out for Valentine’s Day. Like on a date.” Jake pulled his baseball cap off and rubbed his forehead. “God, do I sound stupid or what? I don’t know what it is about you that makes me act like a teenaged fool.”

  Stan laughed. His nervousness was cute. “I would love to go out for Valentine’s Day.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Cool. I was gonna set up the gazebo out here for us, but I figured it would be too cold. We’ll have to save that for the summer. Or at least spring. So I made us reservations at that place you’ve been saying you wanted to try. The Italian place down by the water in Mystic.”

  “Really?” She clapped her hands. “I’m so excited!”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at six?”

  “Sounds perfect.” She looked up as Dede motioned for her to join them in the gazebo. “Time for the ceremony,” she said to Jake. “I’ll be back.”

  Once the doggie vows had gone off without a hitch, she and Dede served up the cake. Stan was relieved that all the dogs who sampled it loved it—and the pupcakes were a hit, too. A lot of them came back for seconds. As she served up the last few pieces, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find Sarah Oliver smiling at her.

  “I heard you were running this shindig today, and I wanted to come down and personally say thank you,” Sarah said.

  “Please, Sarah, don’t thank me. I wish things could’ve turned out differently.”

  “It’s okay,” Sarah said. “My mother is at peace now. All she really wanted was to get her story told. You helped with that. And with Benedict. Everything’s good.”

  Touched, Stan hugged her. “Thank you for coming by.”

  “You’re welcome,” Sarah said. She blew Stan a kiss and turned to go. Then she stopped and turned back. “By the way, Frannie’s really proud of you. She says Sabrina’s trying to find a way back so she can sample your cooking.”

  Stan felt chills whistle up her spine. She’d never told anyone in town her grandmother’s name, and she knew for a fact she’d never talked about Sabrina, her gram’s first dog. She opened her mouth to ask Sarah how she could possibly know that, but the other woman was already walking away, skirts swirling around her. Stevie’s song “If You Ever Did Believe” played in Stan’s head, a soundtrack for the moment.

  “Everything okay?” Jake materialized at her elbow.

  “Yeah, fine,” Stan said, still staring after Sarah.

  “Was that Sarah?”

  “It was. She came to thank me.” Stan turned her full attention to him. “Here, Dunc. Seconds?” She offered him a treat, which he wolfed down.

  “More like thirds,” Jake said. “But it’s a special occasion.”

  Dede joined them in the gazebo, all smiles. She threw her arms around Stan. “This was such a wonderful day! I can’t even begin to thank you enough. This is fabulous.” She dabbed at her eyes. “So wonderful I could cry.”

  “Thank you, Dede,” Stan said. “It was great fun.”

  “And it looked like a great success,” a voice from behind Stan said. They all turned. Stan’s mouth dropped open. It had been almost a year, but she’d recognize Sheldon Allyn anywhere. The famed, flamboyant pastry chef and TV star had been interested in Stan last year when he’d heard of her talents, but circumstances had killed the opportunity. So what was he doing in Frog Ledge now?

  He looked the same, that was for sure. Today he wore a silver suit with a neon pink tie. His brown hair was still feathered, but a tad longer than she remembered. He wore full makeup, including a shade of eyeliner that Stan immediately coveted—a nice slate green.

  “I’ve been following your business on social media,” Allyn said, air-kissing the space next to her cheek, as if their last encounter hadn’t been contentious. “You’re even more fabulous. I want to make you a star. Or at least get you set up in a bakery. This wedding clinched it for me. I have a shop in mind for you in Boston. Right on Newbury Street. Imagine?” He closed his eyes as if indeed imagining, then opened them and focused on Stan again. “So, what do you say?”

  RECIPES

  G
rowl-nola

  1.5 cups oat flour

  1 cup old-fashioned oats

  2 tablespoons oil (vegetable or canola)

  cup honey

  2 eggs

  ½ cup unsweetened apple sauce (or mashed

  apple)

  cup water

  Mix dry ingredients and then add wet ingredients.

  Place in 8 × 8 pan, sprinkle oats on top of batter.

  Bake at 325°F for 25 to 30 minutes.

  Breakfast Bones

  2 cups wheat flour

  1 cup white flour

  ½ cup wheat germ

  ½ TBLS instant dry yeast

  2 dashes cinnamon

  1 TBLS honey

  2 eggs

  1¼ cup water

  2 TBLS oil (vegetable or canola)

  ½ cup bacon

  Mix all wet in stand mixer, add flour and then add other dry ingredients. Lastly, add bacon. Knead in mixer for about 4 minutes. Roll out dough to ¼“—½” and cut with a bone shaped cookie cutter in the size of your choice. 3” bone cutter is recommended. Convection bake at 350°F for 20–25 minutes.

  Dehydrate treats for 10 hours for longer-lasting freshness.

  Tail Waggers

  1 cup oat flour

  1 oz minced dehydrated beef liver (could also

  use dehydrated steak)

  3 small minced carrots

  cup rye flour

  1 cup water

  Mix all ingredients in stand mixer. Squeeze dough through reusable pastry bag with large star tip dropped at the bottom of the bag (this will create the “wagging” effect!). Make approximately 6” sticks. Bake at 350°F for 22 minutes then check. When you shake tray some of the sticks should move, if not, bake a little longer. Dehydrate for 10 hours for a longer lasting freshness.

  —Recipes courtesy of The Big Biscuit, Franklin, MA

  Acknowledgments

  As always, it takes a village. This time even more so.

  Thank you to John Talbot of the John Talbot Agency, Inc., for believing in this series, and to my editor, John Scognamiglio, and the rest of the folks at Kensington for making sure the finished product is worthy.

  Sherry Harris, my Wicked Cozy sister and first editor, gets a lot of the credit, as always, for making this book what it is today and keeping me sane during the process. She and our other Wicked Cozy blog mates—Edith Maxwell/Tace Baker, Barbara Ross, Jessie Crockett, and J. A. (Julie) Hennrikus/ Julianne Holmes—are my biggest supporters and best friends. I love you all very much.

  Thanks to Jim Chianese of the CT Paranormal Research Team and Chris D’Addio, who both lent me their expertise on ghost hunting and all things paranormal. I had a lot of fun with this topic.

  Vanessa Sealey at The Big Biscuit, your recipes are to die for. Thanks for helping me provide high-quality treats for dogs everywhere!

  Special thanks to Keith Golembiewski, my genealogy expert, for educating me on this process and all the cool ways you can find family members these days and trace history. Fascinating!

  I was honored to use the name Dede Richardson in this book in honor of the real Dianne “Dede” Richardson. Thank you to Myron “Mikie” Richardson, her husband, who bid on naming rights for a character at an auction for animals and asked me to use his wife’s name. Dede and their cats, Mittens and Diamond, are all named in this story.

  And my rescue organizations of note: The Greater New Haven Cat Project, Inc. in New Haven, Connecticut, for your amazing work with feral cats; Angel Capone Pitbull Rescue in New York for getting the word out about how great this breed really is; the East Coast Maine Coon Rescue in New Jersey for saving coon cats like Nutty every day; and the Woodstock (NY) Farm Animal Sanctuary, which does amazing things for abused, neglected, and abandoned farm animals. Thank you to each of these organizations and all their dedicated volunteers and staff for being animal advocates. The world needs more of you!

  Doug and Cynthia Fleck, my biggest thanks as always for your support, love and unconditional acceptance of my writerly quirks. Love you guys. And Kim Fleck, you know I could never do any of this without you. Thanks for being my biggest champion and the best social media expert around! Love you to the moon and back!

  And to the readers, booksellers, and librarians, without whom there would be no authors. Thank you all.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2015 by Liz Mugavero

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-0-7582-8482-2

  First Kensington Mass Market Edition: April 2015

  eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-8483-9

  eISBN-10: 0-7582-8483-7

  First Kensington Electronic Edition: April 2015