Death of a Cupcake Queen

by Lee Hollis

  “Did you go to the party with her?”

  “Are you kidding me? The second we pulled up to Sabrina’s house she was out the door without even a thank you. I was clearly not invited.”

  “I’m surprised Sabrina didn’t invite you.”

  “Sabrina wasn’t the one having the party. It was at Julian Reed’s house.”

  Hayley’s eyes widened. “Julian Reed, the actor?”

  “Yeah. She mentioned in the car that earlier in the day they ran into him on Main Street and he was so handsome and charming and after chatting with him for a few minutes he invited them up to the mansion he was renting for the summer that night, which is why she couldn’t tell her parents. They never would have let her go even if she went with Sabrina and Nykki. I never saw her so excited. She was going to party with one of her favorite movie stars.”

  Julian Reed.

  The movie star who so famously drowned in his pool the summer after Hayley’s high school graduation.

  She was fuzzy on the exact date.

  It was so long ago.

  But she was certain it was around the same time.

  And the fact that Sabrina, Ivy, and Nykki, two of whom were now dead at the hands of a vicious killer, met Julian Reed at his house around the same time he died was just too much of a coincidence.

  Was all of this somehow connected?

  Randy, feeling sorry for Charles, who was now just a puddle of tears, filled his glass with more bourbon, which Charles gratefully accepted.

  “On the house,” Randy said.

  Charles smiled weakly and then downed it in one gulp.

  Hayley gave Charles a gentle pat on the back and then jumped off the stool and ran out of the bar.

  Chapter 29

  “Hayley, we’re very busy today, we’re hosting a local mystery author’s book reading and signing tonight, and I don’t have time to indulge all of your whimsical questions,” Agatha Farnsworth sniffed as Hayley stood at the reception desk of the Jesup Memorial Library.

  Agatha Farnsworth was in her eighties and had been the chief librarian at Jesup since the mid-Sixties. Whenever she laid an eye on Hayley it was if the two were frozen in time, and Hayley was still the loud and chatty thirteen year old who was constantly shushed and scolded whenever she went to the library to check out a book.

  “Agatha, I just asked if your newspaper archives have been converted from microfilm to digital files.”

  “Such big words, Ms. Fancy Pants. Why do you need to know?”

  “Because I’d like to do a little research and I just wanted to make sure I’d find what I’m looking for on the library computer.”

  “You’re going to be the death of me. Always coming in here and making life difficult.”

  Hayley bit her tongue.

  She hadn’t been in the library since an ill-fated bake sale that ended in a food fight.

  It wasn’t her fault, but she had still been too embarrassed to return.

  But that was another story.

  Agatha lowered her wire rim granny glasses to the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Fine. Yes. All the Island Times and Bar Harbor Herald files are on the computer and we have one available right now, but please, remember to keep your voice down.”

  “I’m here alone, Agatha. I don’t even have anyone to talk to,” Hayley said through gritted teeth.

  “Well, in my experience, that has never stopped you before,” Agatha scoffed.

  Hayley thought of a few responses she could throw back at Agatha, especially since her kids weren’t around and she wouldn’t have to worry about setting a bad example. But she knew she couldn’t be rude for fear of being ejected from the library by the Crypt Keeper. Plus she knew Sergio would never agree to allow her to read through the police reports pertaining to the Julian Reed case twenty years ago, so she had to rely on newspaper articles from that summer.

  Hayley whispered as softly as possible. “Thank you, Agatha.”

  Agatha, eyes blazing, puckered her lips and with spittle forming at the sides of her mouth, let out a long, reprimanding “Shhhh!”

  Hayley opened her mouth to apologize, thought better of it, and just headed for the stairs that led down to the basement room where the computers were stored. She knew Agatha was finally satisfied because she was able to scold Hayley at least once while she was in the library.

  At least Hayley never felt old when she was around Agatha. She was still a young school girl. Albeit one with a big mouth and behavioral issues.

  Hayley sat down in a hardback wood chair in front of a large clunky desktop computer from the nineties. The library’s budget had been slashed so many times they had yet to invest in some newer sleeker models. Hayley tried a quick simple Google search first on Julian Reed’s death but mostly just the conspiracy theories popped up.

  It was his ex-wife who was caught cheating and got nothing in the divorce.

  It was a disgruntled fellow actor who Julian got fired because he didn’t want to be upstaged by the young stud.

  It was the nut job girlfriend he dumped who bad mouthed him incessantly in the press and accused him of being physically abusive.

  But there was no hard evidence connecting any of them to any kind of foul play.

  Hayley then used a password Agatha had scribbled on a notecard for her to enter the library’s archive and pulled up the actual articles printed in both local papers in 1995 documenting the case.

  She scanned the paragraphs from the first report in the Island Times.

  The police were called to the scene by the housekeeper who had discovered the body floating face down in the pool around three in the morning.

  Blood contaminated the swimming pool from the victim’s head wound.

  Hayley jumped ahead to an article printed a few days later after the official autopsy report was released.

  Drugs and alcohol were found in his system.

  The police concluded that Julian Reed was impaired from the vodka and barbiturates enough that night that he probably tripped and hit his head on the side of the pool as he fell in.

  The official cause of death was accidental drowning.

  But since Julian Reed was such a big movie star an official conclusion wasn’t nearly enough to stop the cottage industry of conspiracy theories that grew out of what really happened that night.

  And perhaps all those fans and conspiracy enthusiasts were right.

  Maybe the Bar Harbor Police Department got it wrong.

  Was there more to the story?

  So many years had passed.

  Could fresh eyes find something the investigators missed at the time?

  Hayley pored over all the articles printed about the investigation.

  At the end of one written just a few days after Julian Reed’s drowning, the last paragraph included a list of people questioned by the police at the time of the incident.

  One name jumped out at Hayley.

  A young handyman in his early twenties who had been on the estate earlier that day fixing a leaky faucet in the master bath.

  Lex Bansfield.

  Hayley’s ex-boyfriend.

  Chapter 30

  “So how’s the Puppy Whisperer?” Lex said, his voice dripping with attitude.

  “His name is Aaron,” Hayley said, clearing her throat, trying to pretend this wasn’t as awkward as it felt.

  Some months ago Hayley was forced to make a choice.

  Lex or Aaron.

  She chose Aaron.

  Lex took it hard.

  In fact, he didn’t speak to her for months and she even caught him avoiding her when he spotted her milling about the bananas in the produce section of the Shop ‘n Save by spinning around and hustling off in the opposite direction.

  She couldn’t blame him.

  She broke his heart.

  He had basically told her so to her face the night she dumped him.

  Right after he saved her life.

  She had felt painfully guilty.

  The
y were good together.

  But she felt something deeper with Aaron.

  And she knew she had to keep following the path she was on to find out if Aaron was the one she was meant to spend the rest of her life with.

  But she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit there were times she missed Lex and his rugged good looks.

  His gravelly voice.

  His sly, sometimes demented, sense of humor.

  She met him when she ran over him with her car.

  You really get to know a person when you rush him to the hospital.

  Luckily his injuries were minor.

  But his infatuation with her was anything but.

  She resisted his advances at first, but he wore her down and soon they were dating.

  Her kids adored him.

  Her friends heartily approved of him.

  Even her mother was a fan and she never took to any of the men in Hayley’s life.

  Especially her deadbeat ex-husband.

  Her words. Not Hayley’s.

  It all fell apart when his boss died and he was left without a job. He left town. He returned to his home state of Vermont and it looked like he was out of her life for good.

  But after only eight months he returned ready to pick up where they had left off.

  The only problem was Hayley had already met Aaron.

  Now she was standing in the front doorway to Lex’s construction company shop located in a warehouse at the end of town asking for his help.

  She feared he wasn’t about to make it easy for her.

  “Lex, I was hoping you might be able to shed a little light on something . . .”

  “So tell me. Is he as good a kisser as I was?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  “You can tell me. I won’t tattle.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk about my boyfriend. Being here is uncomfortable enough . . .”

  “You’re uncomfortable? I’m not uncomfortable. We’re friends, Hayley. We can talk to each other about anything.”

  Her fears were completely founded.

  He was not going to make this easy.

  He was downright enjoying this.

  Like a cat taunting a trapped mouse.

  “Lex, please, I just have a few questions for you . . .”

  “Great. You answer my question and then I’ll answer yours.”

  Lex rolled up the sleeves of his plaid work shirt, showing off his sinewy forearms as he folded them across his broad chest.

  There was no getting out of this.

  Hayley sighed. “He’s a very good kisser.”

  “That’s not what I asked. I asked if he’s better than me.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can,” Lex said, chuckling.

  “You’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, haven’t you?”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  “Fine. He’s a better kisser than you.”

  Lex studied her face and then broke out into a wide smile. “You’re lying. I can always tell.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, beaming.

  “I’m not!”

  She was.

  She hated to admit it.

  Aaron outpaced Lex in so many areas.

  But Lex Bansfield knew how to kiss a woman in a sensual way she had never experienced before in her life.

  To the point where her knees buckled.

  He used to have to hold her up so she wouldn’t fall.

  He knew he was the best.

  She knew he was the best.

  And he was going to enjoy forcing her to say it out loud.

  “Yes or no. Pick one and we’re done. Am I a better kisser than the Puppy Whisperer?”

  Hayley hissed under her breath but loud enough for him to hear. “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” Lex said, satisfied.

  “That was cruel,” Hayley said, shaking her head.

  “Maybe. But it sure did feel good. Now what do you want to know?”

  “Did you come here one summer in your early twenties and work on an estate?”

  “Yeah. That was the summer I fell in love with the island. I had to go back to Vermont and work for my Dad in the fall but this place was special. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It took me years, but I finally got back here when the job at the Hollingsworth estate came up about six years ago.”

  “Do you remember who you worked for that summer?”

  “Yeah. That big-time actor who died. Julian Reed. Guy was a big jerk but he paid well. Why do you ask?”

  “I was reading some old articles about his death and saw your name.”

  “Yeah. I worked on the estate the day he died. I mowed the lawn and watered the garden and fixed a leaky faucet for him, but I was out of there by three or four. Took a few buddies and some six packs of beer in my truck to the park that night. I didn’t even hear he was dead until the next day when I showed up to do some trimming and the place was swarming with cops and reporters.”

  “You mentioned he was a jerk. Did he mistreat you?”

  “Not really. The only time he ever spoke to me was to give me orders or to complain about overgrown weeds or something like that. The guy was never happy. All that money and you could tell he was depressed and miserable. I never saw him smile once. Why are you so interested in him?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I think there might be more to his death than what was in the papers.”

  “Well, if you’re on the case, then that must mean you think he was murdered.”

  “No. I’m just trying to dig up all the facts. It could very well be just a tragic accident. Too much drugs and alcohol and a slippery tile next to the pool. Thanks, Lex.”

  Hayley turned to go.

  “You should talk to Glenda Goodrich.”

  Hayley spun back around. “Who?”

  “Glenda Goodrich. She was Julian Reed’s maid at the estate he rented that summer.”

  “Was she there the night he died?”

  “She was the one who discovered the body and called the police.”

  “Do you know where I can find her?”

  “Listen, Hayley, she was already in her late sixties back then.”

  “She died?”

  “No. She’s alive.”

  “So she’s still here!”

  “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

  Chapter 31

  “Natasha, would you be a dear and tell Papa Frank we should be heading to church soon,” the old woman said, combing her long thin gray hair with a wooden brush.

  Hayley stood at the bedside and leaned in gently, “Mrs. Goodrich, my name is Hayley Powell and I’m here because—”

  “Reverend Bishop always gives such a lovely sermon. I would hate to show up late. Now go on. Find Papa Frank. I’m sure he’s outside sneaking a cigarette.”

  A nurse appeared in the doorway behind Hayley. She was rather rotund in a white uniform with a pink sweater over it and had curly blond hair and a sweet quiet smile. Her name was Ashley. Hayley had just met her when she showed up at the Bar Harbor Retirement Home on the outskirts of town and asked to speak with Glenda Goodrich. “Natasha is . . . was Mrs. Goodrich’s granddaughter. She died of cancer ten years ago.”

  Hayley turned and nodded to the nurse.

  She turned back to the old woman, who had set her hairbrush down and was now buttoning the heavy blue sweater she was wearing over her yellow nightgown.

  “It’s cold in here,” Glenda snapped.

  “We have the temperature up to eighty degrees, Mrs. Goodrich. You shouldn’t be cold.”

  “Frank is always trying to cut costs by turning down the heat in the winter, but what good is having a few extra bucks in your pocket if you freeze to death?”

  The nurse stepped closer to Hayley and whispered in her ear. “Frank was her husband. He died in ’98 after a stroke.”<
br />
  “How long has she been like this?”

  “When she came here, she was just a little forgetful. She’d mix up the nurses’ names or be walking down the hall and stop, not remembering where she was going. But it’s gotten progressively worse over the last five years. Alzheimer’s is a terrible disease. Her body is still strong, but her mind is almost gone at this point.”

  Hayley knew it would be a fruitless exercise to question the poor old woman.

  But she knew she had to try.

  She spotted a tray of food on the credenza and crossed over and picked up a plastic cup of vanilla pudding. She scooped out a dollop with a plastic spoon and held it out to Glenda. “Would you like some pudding, Glenda?”

  “Oh, thank you, Natasha. You’re such a good girl,” Glenda said, closing her eyes and opening her mouth.

  Hayley gently spoon fed her the pudding and then sat on the edge of the bed.

  Glenda opened her eyes and gave her the once over.

  “Natasha, you’re not dressed properly for church. Go change into something presentable right now. I don’t want Reverend Bishop thinking my granddaughter is some kind of two-bit floozy.”

  Hayley was in a conservative print blouse and khaki pants.

  Hardly a floozy.

  But she nodded and patted Glenda’s arm. “I will. I promise. By the way, Mr. Reed called.”

  “Who?” Glenda chirped, a perplexed look on her face.

  “Julian Reed? The man who hired you to clean his estate this summer? He wanted to know what time to expect you tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know anyone by that name. Why are you talking nonsense, Natasha? Is this some kind of game?”

  “You don’t remember Mr. Reed?”

  Hayley hated pressing her.

  Even if the woman did have a moment of clarity, there was no indication whatever she said would be the least bit helpful.

  The woman laid her head back on her pillow, her eyes floating up to the ceiling as she struggled to remember.