by Holly Plum
“What's this?” he picked up the canister and immediately shook it.
Joy grabbed it from him and held it close to her chest. She had had just about enough. “What is this about, detective?”
“Ma'am,” he sighed, getting out his handkerchief and wiping his hands clean. “I'm sorry for my intrusion, but this is rather a difficult situation. I'm investigating a possible homicide. A man has died after eating a single slice of a chocolate tart from this establishment.”
Sara Beth gasped, “Crystal? Please, don't say it was a woman named Crystal Stone.”
“No," the detective responded. " I said a man has died.”
Sara Beth gasped, “Lucas? Please don't say it was a man named Lucas.”
“It was a man named Tony Florentine," he replied. "Are you certain neither of you know him?"
“I'm sorry, but I don't,” Joy replied, still holding her mother's blend of spices close to her heart. “I can check the books, but I don't think it would help you much.”
Joy looked to Sara Beth, who shook her head and shrugged.
“I'd appreciate any records you have, Joy.” Detective Sugar crossed his arms. “I'm not saying you're a prime suspect, but I'm afraid your chocolate tart is guilty. I'll need samples of every ingredient in the shop, and I'll need to take this.” He reached his hand out for Patty's secret blend of spices. "Don't worry. You'll get it back."
"I guess our chocolate tart really is to die for," Sara Beth muttered.
CHAPTER TWO
In the wake of the shocking visit by Detective Sugar, Joy and Sara Beth stood in the shop and watched him leave through the front windows. Joy was completely stunned. She could have stared out at the window all night, but Sara Beth broke her meditation as she scampered around the shop finishing her closing duties and gathering her belongings.
“Anyway, who on earth is Tony Florentine?” Sara Beth emptied out the last quart from a gallon of sweet tea into her cup.
Joy couldn't tell if Sara Beth's hands were shaky from nerves, or because that gallon of iced tea had been full in the morning, and Sara Beth was the only one to touch it.
“I've never heard the name," Joy answered. "But I suppose I don't know everyone in town even though my mind is a trap for names. You said so yourself.” Joy tapped on her temple twice before glancing at her watch. “Head on out, Sara Beth. I'll finish up.”
Sara Beth looked to Joy with a slight frown. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”
“Me?" Joy pinched her cheeks. "I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Sara Beth was almost to the door when she turned back to smile to Joy. “Everything will be okay, Joy. Good things come to good people.”
As Joy finished closing up the shop, she tried not to think about the chocolate tart and alleged manslaughter that could be on her hands. She also tried not to think about the possible rumors circulating around town, or the headline that could be splattered across the front of the newspaper tomorrow. The fact of the matter was that a man was dead. The victim could have been someone that Joy knew. With a different turn of fate, she could have killed someone else – a friend. Sara Beth's words echoed in her mind. Everything will be okay.
She shook her head as if to dismiss the thought, and went about packing up for the night.
Joy stepped out the back of the bakery and into the side street. The humidity felt like a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Joy inhaled the seaside air. It was the best kind of medicine. She considered driving home by the beach that night – she'd left her fishing poles in the back of her car and casting her rod out into the waves was the best stress relief she'd ever found. And her cat, Cheesecake, would surely love a fresh fish treat.
Joy opened the trunk of her car to check on her equipment. An engine revved suddenly. She turned to look down the small, dark street and saw headlights driving towards her. The car sped up. Joy gasped, stunned by the blinding lights. The car came closer, acting as if it were about to slam into Joy. Joy felt as though she was stuck in quicksand. She couldn't move a muscle, or even breathe.
The car swerved away, just missing Joy. Joy let out a sigh of relief and turned just in time to see the street light illuminating the side of the car, and the logo stuck to the door – the frosted cupcake illustration of The Sugar Room.
* * *
Joy didn't stop at the beach. She drove straight home, though it took her twice as long as it normally did. She drove slowly and carefully. She was so shaken up that she couldn't stop tapping her finger on the steering wheel or thinking about her near-death experience.
How dare she? Joy asked herself. She was thinking about Maple McWayne, the owner, and manager of The Sugar Room. Maple certainly did not live up to her name, being the least sweet or delicate flavor of person that Joy had ever encountered. She had opened The Sugar Room after Patty Cakes Bake Shop had become popular, and had been using underhanded tactics to steal customers ever since.
The latest swindle happened after Joy was featured in an article in the local newspaper highlighting the shop's various selections of buttercream. The next week, Maple held a contest at the local senior center where The Sugar Room served free cupcakes and asked the residents to raise their hands if they agreed that the frosting was the best in town. Neither Joy nor any other baker in town was invited to compete. Now, a huge banner hung above The Sugar Room, proclaiming that it served the #1 best frosting in town.
Joy cursed at Maple. She wondered if Maple would really go so far as murder to shut down her business. Could she be desperate enough to kill somebody? Maybe the victim, Tony Florentine, wasn't supposed to die? Maybe Maple only intended to make Joy's customers ill, not kill them?
Joy shook the thought out of her head and reached into her glove compartment for a treat to calm her nerves. Popping a ginger chew in her mouth, she let the taste of the heat, spice and sweetness take her mind off Maple for a moment.
Joy's home was a beachside bungalow set amongst an overgrown tropical garden with a ceramic birdbath set on a small patch of grass. Fishing rods lined up beside the front door, and Joy entered her living room to find her cat Cheesecake sitting patiently on the sofa.
“You'll never guess what happened today, Cheesecake.” Joy felt the day's weight start to lift off her chest as the chalk white cat jumped down and trotted over to her.
Cheesecake purred, weaving his way around her legs. Joy leaned down and scratched his cheeks.
“What a day I've had, my friend. What've you been doing all day, huh?” Joy sighed and plopped down onto the sofa, and grabbed the remote. Cheesecake jumped up into her lap, both of them lit by the television. “Sorry, no fresh fish for dinner. It'll have to be the usual tonight.”
Joy channel surfed until she found an episode of Make It Or Bake It. It was one of her favorite cooking shows. Cheesecake immediately got up and left the room.
“Hey, I thought you liked this show?” Joy called after him.
Cheesecake scratched around in his litter box a little too loudly.
After a not-so-satisfying dinner of leftover casserole, Joy tossed and turned in bed. Cheesecake came and purred beside her, trying to soothe Joy to sleep.
“It's no good, Cheesecake,” Joy whispered to him in the dark. "I'm worried about the bake shop."
Joy sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
“A man died because of a tart I made," Joy admitted. Cheesecake's purring stopped. Joy turned to look at him.
“It wasn't my fault. I didn't poison that chocolate tart. Of course, I didn't. Someone else did. Detective Sugar didn't give me any details.” Joy cleared her throat. “I don't know. Maybe the man who died was just allergic to one of the ingredients.”
Cheesecake began purring again.
“You're right," Joy continued. "Everything will be fine just like Sara Beth said.”
Joy pulled the covers up to her chin. “Goodnight, Cheesecake. I love you, you little fuzz ball.”
Joy final
ly got to sleep only to be woken in the middle of the night. She flicked her eyes open and sat up. She didn't know why she was awake at first, but suddenly she heard sounds coming from the kitchen. All the lights were out in the bungalow. It was almost pitch black except for a stream of moonlight barely illuminating her bedroom. The sounds stopped.
Joy strained her ears to hear anything else.
“Who's there?” she tried to make her voice sound deep and tough, but it came out as a croak.
CLANG.
Joy sat upright and held her breath. More unusual noises followed, and then the creak of the back door opening. Joy threw back the covers and ran down the hallway.
Her back porch was dark and still. The air was still humid with a cool, beach breeze, and the sound of ocean waves rang through the night. Joy grabbed a flashlight from under the kitchen sink and lit up her back porch. Nothing moved.
“Who's there?” Joy yelled out into the night.
The only reply was a squawking bird, Joy's racing heartbeat, and the echo of waves hitting the nearby shore.
CHAPTER THREE
The next day, Joy was sluggish and tired. As per usual, Cheesecake came into the bed to wake Joy as the sun came up. Joy was already wide awake after suffering a horrible nightmare that she was being drowned in a vat of molten chocolate.
“Oh, Cheesecake." Joy stroked her cat's fur coat. "Please, tell me that yesterday never happened.” Cheesecake hardly blinked.
Joy dragged herself to the bake shop, reminding herself that starting the day off on a positive note was key to having a better day than yesterday. Joy did her best to keep a friendly smile on her face. She told herself everything would be fine. Joy knew that she could rely on Sara Beth to bring some good cheer to her day. She'd always been able to chase the darkest clouds away with one of her stories about growing up in Mudtown, Mississippi.
But as Joy perfected the display case for the day, she noticed that Sara Beth was strangely quiet. There were four regulars eating their morning pastries in the shop, and Sara Beth was usually a chatterbox with that sort of crowd.
“How are you doing today, Sara Beth?” a man named Joel asked between bites of his usual – the largest Danish Joy had available. The flavor didn't matter.
“I'm fine, Joel,” Sara Beth responded. "Thanks for asking."
“Not very talkative today, are you?” a woman named Patsy pointed out.
“I guess I'm just tired.” Sara Beth stepped away from behind the counter and wiped an empty table.
“You must be low on sweet tea today,” Patsy insisted. “Why don't you pour yourself a glass, and sit down for chat like you usually do?”
“I'll need another Danish to keep me going if you're not going to give me any sugar, Sara Beth.” Joel chuckled to himself.
“Yes, sir,” Sara Beth answered cheerfully but robotically and made her way behind the counter again.
“I see that I'm not the only one freaked out about what happened yesterday,” Joy whispered to Sara Beth.
“I dreamt about chocolate tarts last night.” Sara Beth shrugged. "Normally, I'd welcome that sort of thing, but it was horrible."
Joy frowned and continued, “Well, I had nightmares too. I even got up thinking I heard someone breaking into the bungalow. Maybe it was the wind or something.” Joy lied to herself to spare Sara Beth the stress.
“Well,” Sara Beth said quietly. “That mocha cheesecake might help.”
"It couldn't hurt," Joy agreed.
Joy let the issue go for now and took Sara Beth's advice. She sat at the bay window and ate a slice of mocha cheesecake to try and perk herself up. While she ate, she felt wide awake thanks to the bitterness of the coffee blending with the sharp tart flavor of the silky cheesecake. The bell above the door sounded. It was another regular named Coco. Sara Beth had often commented that Coco's big hair was just as big as her mouth.
“Sara Beth, my darling.” Coco approached the counter and put a hand on her heart. “I just can't believe the news. Joy must be devastated.”
“Morning, Coco.” Joy waved from the bay window.
“Joy, honey,” Coco responded so that the entire shop could hear her. "I'm so sorry about what happened. I just can't believe it. I really can't."
All eyes were on Coco. Sara Beth looked faint.
Joy joined her and Sara Beth at the counter, hoping to turn the volume of the conversation down a notch.
"Unfortunate things happen sometimes," Joy said.
“You must be devastated.” Coco put a hand on Joy's shoulder and squeezed tightly. “Don't worry; I'll stand by you one hundred percent, no matter what Maple says.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sara Beth suddenly perked up. “What did Maple say?”
“Oh, honey.” Coco's volume rose again. “She told me the news. She's been telling everyone in town the sad, sad news.”
“What news?” Sara Beth squeaked.
“What exactly has Maple been saying?” Joy pushed, her face flushed with curiosity.
“The terrible news about the …,” Coco lowered her voice, but everyone in the shop could still hear her, “… well, let's just say I'm surprised you're still selling those.” She motioned dramatically to the chocolate tarts in the display case.
Sara Beth huffed.
“News of your chocolate tart scandal is all over town,” Coco hissed. “Maple has been making sure of that. I don't normally listen to what she has to say, but I wanted to let you know I support you one hundred percent.”
“Well, I'd recommend you not listen to much of what Maple has to say since she has been out to get me since day one,” Joy warned.
“I think it might be a bit late for that, Joy. I just can't believe you're closing the bake shop. I'm glad you're mother isn't here to see this.” Coco flicked her poofy hair.
“What?” Joy exclaimed. "Maple has been saying that I'm closing the shop? Well, that's a lie."
“No one wants a poisoned pastry,” Coco replied. Everyone in the shop slowly put down their forks and looked at their plates. Joel dabbed his mouth with a napkin and made a hasty exit. The rest of Joy's customers quickly followed.
“Hey, wait!” Joy called after them.
“Sorry, sister. I can't risk it with my bad liver.” Patsy left cash on the table beside her half-eaten slice of vanilla pound cake.
Sara Beth gasped at the sight of the empty shop. Joy put her head in her hands and groaned.
“Well.” Coco sighed. “What a shame. I'm with you one hundred percent, though. In solidarity, I'll take one of those rose water macarons, thanks. It's for the best, Joy, don't worry so much.”
“How is it for the best, Coco?” Sara Beth asked snappily as she boxed up her sweets.
“The fewer customers you have, the less painful it'll be when you're shut down.”
“Excuse me?” Joy looked between her fingers at Coco.
“But Maple said-"
“Well, you can tell Maple to …” Joy took a deep breath to calm herself down. “Like I said Coco, we're not closing down. Not today anyway. And you can spread that rumor through town.”
“Maple can come and see for herself that we're still here and as happy as ever to serve our perfectly safe, delicious, and renowned baked goods.” Sara Beth put on a bright smile and led Coco towards the door.
“Oh, I'm not one for gossip.” Coco clutched her box of sugary treats.
“Of course,” Sara Beth replied with a polite smile on her face. “Enjoy the macarons. Thanks for coming in, Coco." Sara Beth wasted no time hurrying Coco out of the shop.
Joy and Sara Beth sat by the counter for an hour with their hands in their heads and watched through the big front windows as people crossed the street to avoid walking by the shop. Sara Beth gulped down an endless glass of sweet tea.
“There goes Mrs. Hunter.” Joy sighed as she saw one of her favorite regulars approach the shop, change her mind, and scamper away towards the direction of The Sugar Room.
“Alright,” Sara
Beth slapped her hand on the counter, “We need a plan.”
“Step one,” Joy responded. "We wait for Detective Sugar to get back to us. Step two. We pray that the shop doesn't get into any more trouble."
“That's a horrible plan.” Sara Beth slapped her hand on the counter again, forcing Joy to pay attention. “We need a plan of action.” Sara Beth slapped the counter a third time again. “Ouch, that hurt. But do you get my point?” She cradled her hand.
“Go on.”
“We have to find out what really happened,” Sara Beth suggested.
“How are we going to do that?" Joy asked. "We're not police officers."
"That makes no difference. We can still conduct our own investigation.” Sara Beth leaned in close to Joy and took an intimate sip of sweet tea. She continued in a hushed tone. “How did this Tony Florentine get his hands on one of our chocolate tarts? How was the tart poisoned? We need to at least try and figure it out.”
“And if it brings the shop more problems?” Joy hesitated, but she knew that she couldn't let Patty Cakes Bake Shop crumble so easily. Her mother had put all of her time and hard-earned savings into making it what it was today.
“You're a brilliant baker, Joy." Sara Beth did her best to butter up her boss. "You make the flakiest pastries I've ever eaten, and I've been eating them for years and years. There is something fishy going on, and you know it.”
Joy did know it. She knew it in her gut and her heart. Tony Florentine wasn't her fault, and the bake shop shouldn't be punished for the actions of the killer. Joy knew that staying in business wouldn't always be easy. She knew that one day she would have to fight for it just like her mother had.
“You're right, Sara Beth," Joy admitted. "There is something very, very wrong going on here. That detective did not give me a sense of confidence that he would get to the bottom of this himself.”
