by Carol Durand
“Still hungry?” he asked quietly.
“Hungry? Well, I actually did accidentally skip dinner, but why do you ask?” Missy was confused at his odd question. It was nearly 8:00 at night.
“I’m sure our reservation at Via Tuscana was cancelled over an hour ago, but I can take you somewhere else if you’d like,” he offered.
Missy’s mouth fell open as the memory of agreeing to a date for the best Italian food in town came back to her. “Oh my goodness, Chas, I’m so sorry! Dinner completely slipped my mind – I was caught up in trying out a new recipe and totally forgot. Have you been waiting here the whole time?”
He ignored her question and asked one of his own. “Should we go grab something before everything closes?” He stood, bouncing his keys in his hand.
Missy wrestled with her response. She was hungry, but more than that, she was exhausted, and although she’d love an evening with Chas, she’d probably start yawning with her first sip of wine. “I’m really tired. It’s been a long day, and I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be very good company. Raincheck?”
“This was a raincheck. From when you had a last-minute meeting last week. Don’t worry about it, just get back to me when your schedule opens up,” Beckett answered quietly, looking at her for a long moment before heading down the steps.
“I’m sorry, Chas. I’ll call you…” she called after him as he strode to his car. He raised his hand in the air to acknowledge her comment without turning around to look back.
“Any news?” Missy asked Echo over tea.
“Unfortunately, no. It’s getting so frustrating – I want to reopen the store, but I can’t, so Safflower and I just sit here driving each other crazy all day,” her friend admitted.
“How long is she visiting?” Missy hoped that the younger sister would go back to California and get out of Echo’s hair. Her friend didn’t need the added stress of sibling conflict right now at the hands of her moody and spoiled sister.
“I don’t know. It seems like it might be a while,” her friend sighed unconsciously. “But enough about my troubles…how’s Mr. Wonderful?”
Missy stared at the scattering of tea leaves in the bottom of her cup. “I don’t really know, I haven’t heard from him for a few days. I’ve been neglecting him horribly lately, poor thing. I’ve cancelled dates, forgotten dinners and ignored phone calls, so I think he might be a bit upset with me.”
“Wow. Why on earth are you doing that, girl? If I had a man like that interested in me, I’d make darn sure that I held up my end of the bargain,” Echo remarked, her eyes boring into Missy’s.
“I know. I feel bad, but it’s not intentional, it’s just that I’ve been so busy…” she replied lamely.
“Weren’t you the one who said that it’s important to make time for what’s important?” her friend reminded her.
Missy nodded sadly. “I know. I just have so many things pulling me in so many different directions.”
“I’d be careful, my friend. If you keep heading away from someone long enough, eventually they may stop chasing.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I’ll talk with him about it soon.”
Driving to the shop, Missy thought about the wisdom of what Echo had said. Chas was the first man that she’d allowed herself to care about, and she was accidentally constantly pushing him away. He’d been as reluctant to start a relationship as she had been. Her behavior lately may have begun to make him lose faith that things could actually work out. She hated that she was actually hurting him, and planned to have a big talk to let him know how much she cared very soon.
Once Missy stepped foot in the shop, she became immersed in baking and time flew. The Cupcake of the Day was a German Chocolate Delight that had gooey caramel held together with freshly grated coconut in the center and on top. It was a sumptuous treat, and despite having baked double her usual amount, they sold out in record time. The last two special treats went to a rather nervous young man who couldn’t seem to get out of the door fast enough. Missy wondered at the somewhat scruffy young man’s behavior, but was busy enough that she certainly didn’t dwell on it.
Once the lunch rush was over, and things had settled down a bit, Missy became entirely absorbed in plotting out a strategy that would permit her to have enough time to do all of the holiday baking and arrange for deliveries as well. Now that she was fully staffed at both of her locations, she could do most of the baking and delivering herself, but she might need to hire out some of the delivery as the holidays approached. Satisfied with her progress for the day, Missy headed home, eager to spend time with Toffee, fix herself a microwave dinner and spend some well-earned time zoning out in front of the TV. She’d rather read a book, but doubted that she’d be able to keep her eyes open or concentrate.
Returning from a vigorous romp in the park with her beloved golden retriever, Missy pulled her phone out of the pocket of her warm-up jacket when it buzzed, indicating a text.
“Need to talk. I’ll be at your house in 15 minutes. C.”
The message was brief, but she was glad that she’d have a chance to talk to Chas and let him know how sorry she was and that she really did care, and wanted to make her inattention up to him somehow. She would have worried about the brevity of his message, but Chas Beckett was a man of few words, so the text was typical of his communication style. Missy led Toffee into the house, then quickly showered, dressed casually in jeans that hugged her curves and a fitted v-neck light blue tee shirt, and left her still-damp hair in ringlets on her shoulders. She had just opened a bottle of Cabernet, letting it breathe on the kitchen counter, when the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat in her excitement, and she jogged to the door, Toffee trailing behind.
“Chas!” she exclaimed with a brilliant smile. “I’m so glad to see you, I wanted to…”
“There’s trouble,” Chas interrupted her, his jaw muscles flexing.
“Trouble?” Missy asked, her heart sinking. “What now?” She turned and went to the kitchen table and sat, indicating the chair across from her for Chas.
“A man was murdered in Dellville this evening.”
“Another one? What on earth is going on in that town?” she shook her head in disbelief. “What happened this time?”
“Looks like another poisoning,” he said grimly.
“Well, as much as I hate to say it, in a way, that’s actually good news in a way, because if someone else was poisoned, then it’s ridiculous to blame Echo for the first poisoning – her shop is closed, so she couldn’t have done the second one. Two poisoning in two weeks have to be related, meaning only one person could’ve done it and that one person is not Echo.”
Chas paused for a moment. “Yes, that does make her situation better. The unfortunate reality is that now you’re the suspect.”
“Me? What could possibly make me the suspect?” Missy was astonished.
“An anonymous witness called in and said that the young man who died had bought cupcakes from you a few hours earlier.”
“Well, that’s easy enough to disprove. If my cupcakes were poisoned, more than one person would be dead. Besides, someone calling in anonymously? Doesn’t that strike you as terribly suspicious? It sounds to me like someone is trying to lash out against the business community in Dellville. Sid Hixon, who died, was a business owner, Echo, who is suspected of murder, is a business owner, and now me. Who would do such a thing, and why? Was the second victim a business owner too?” she asked Chas.
“No, the second victim was a jobless youth, who has been known to hang out downtown, occasionally panhandling and asking for food from passersby.”
Something clicked in Missy’s mind. “Did he have longish light brown hair and a goatee?”
Chas nodded. “Yes, he did. Did you know this young man?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t recall ever having seen him before, but he definitely came in the shop today. I remember him specifically because he seemed to be terribly nervous about somethin
g. Do you think it’s possible that he took drugs or poison of his own accord and just wanted a cupcake as a treat before he died or something?”
“Anything is possible, I suppose,” Chas answered, sounding skeptical.
“I hate that they think I killed a harmless young man,” Missy’s eyes filled with tears. “If I had known about his situation, maybe I could’ve helped him, and now it’s too late.”
“Well, for now, it’s probably best that you close the Dellville location temporarily. The police will be doing an extensive investigation anyway, and they’ll want to question you,” he advised.
Missy nodded. “I’ll just have to switch operations entirely to the LaChance location and do all of the baking and deliveries from there.”
Chas looked thoughtful, and stood to go. “I’ll keep you posted if I hear anything new,” he turned, making his way to the door. “You should expect to hear from the Dellville PD soon,” he said, opening the door.
“Chas…wait!” Missy called, following him. “When you have time, I’d like to talk to you about a few things.”
“When I have time…” Chas thought, feeling the irony. “Let’s focus on clearing you of murder for now, okay?” he replied quietly, going out the door and closing it behind him.
Shortly after Chas Beckett drove away, Detective Richard Keller of the Dellville police department arrived to talk with Missy regarding the murder.
“Were you acquainted with the victim?” Keller probed.
“No, I had never met him before today, when he came into the shop,” Missy shook her head.
“Did you bake the particular cupcake that he purchased?”
“Yes, I almost always bake all of the specialty Cupcakes of the Day.”
“Did anyone else have direct access to the cupcakes?”
“My staff does, of course,” she replied.
“Were there any deliveries, or visitors that had access to the shop during the day?”
“Not while I was there. I can check with my team to see if anyone came in during my absence,” she offered, trying to be helpful.
“No need, we’ll take care of that,” the detective responded, taking notes. “I’ll need the names of everyone who was working today, along with contact information.”
Missy gave him the information that he had requested, and he snapped his notebook shut, telling her not to leave town and that he’d be in touch.
Chapter 6
The police had given Missy clearance to go in and out of Crème de la Cupcake whenever she needed to, but she made the decision that, while she might use the location for overflow baking, she would keep the shop closed for business until the murder was resolved. She had gone back to make sure that the dry goods were stocked for baking, and that there was no perishable food in the fridge that would spoil in her absence. She turned the lock and set the alarm on the back door, heading down the alley, where she had parked. Thinking she heard a noise behind her, she whirled around, heart pounding, seeing nothing. When she was convinced that her imagination was spooking her, she turned around, making her way to the car more quickly. She’d taken no more than three steps when suddenly, something thudded painfully against her skull, dropping her, unconscious, to the pavement.
Not wanting to open her eyes, Missy was vaguely aware of feeling very cold. Her head throbbed in a sickening manner, and color swirled behind her eyelids. She heard a crunching and scraping sound, along with a few male voices. Their words were unintelligible, and she faded back into unconsciousness as she felt four pairs of strong hands grip and lift her slightly.
“Miss Gladstone…? Melissa…? Can you hear me?” The voices seemed to come from so far away. The ache in her head now had a raw, searing pain on top of it and her stomach rolled as she tried to raise her impossible heavy eyelids. Blinking to clear the blurriness, Missy slowly became aware of her surroundings, and tried to sit up, frightened. The move was a mistake – she nearly passed out from the pain. Her eyes closed of their own volition, and she struggled against the nausea. “Miss Gladstone…?” the soft voice asked again.
Missy tried to speak, but found her throat impossibly dry. She attempted to swallow, and winced at the sensation. Beginning to panic Missy tried to brace herself and sit up, only to fall back weakly.
“It’s okay Miss Gladstone. Everything is alright,” the voice soothed. “You’re in the hospital, you’ve had a bit of an accident, but we’re going to take good care of you.”
She felt a blood pressure cuff squeezing her upper arm, and a digital thermometer rested briefly against her forehead. Once her vitals were recorded, the nurse spoke again. “Would you like a sip of water?”
Missy kept her eyes closed and nodded very carefully, not wanting to intensify the pain throbbing in her skull. She felt the tip of a plastic straw placed between her lips and sucked in the cool water with relief. The burning in her throat eased a bit after a few swallows, and, keeping her eyes closed, she tried to speak again, her voice hoarse.
“What happened?” she whispered, not moving her head.
The nurse hesitated so long in answering that Missy feared that she had left. “Well, there’ll be someone here soon to speak with you about that,” she evaded. “For now, you just rest and press this button if you need anything.” A single-button plastic remoted control was pressed into her hand and the nurse shuffled out. Exhausted by the simple acts of speaking and taking a drink of water, Missy faded to black once more.
An indeterminate time later, Missy felt a large hand envelope hers. “Missy…can you hear me? Are you awake?” Detective Chas Beckett asked softly, his voice colored with concern.
With a brief flutter of her lashes, she opened her eyes, blinking to bring the world into focus, and saw the handsome detective gazing down at her. “Chas…” she whispered, her voice weak.
“Good morning,” he smiled warmly, squeezing her hand. “How are you feeling?”
She took a moment to self-assess before responding. Her head had stopped pounding, the searing pain in her scalp had faded considerably, and her throat was dry, but not unbearably so. “Better,” she smiled faintly.
“That’s my girl,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “Water?” he asked, holding up a large plastic mug featuring the medical center’s logo.
“Please.” He held the straw to her lips and she drew in several long pulls of the refreshing liquid, feeling the coolness all the way down into her stomach. “What happened?” Missy asked, when she was finished, sounding more like herself.
Chas set the cup down on a side table before responding. “You were…attacked on your way to your car. Someone hit you with a blunt object from behind and knocked you out. You weren’t found until Ben parked in the alley behind your shop the next morning. You’ve been here ever since,” he explained grimly.
“Ever since? How long has it been?” Missy wondered, alarmed.
“Three days,” the detective replied, caressing the back of her hand.
“Three days?? Am I okay? My head doesn’t hurt nearly as much,” her eyes were wide.
“The doctors said that you had a pretty bad concussion, and a skull fracture. You also have nearly a hundred stitches in your scalp where the skin split upon impact.”
Missy reached up to where the searing pain had been and touched the skin of her scalp covered by three days growth of hair. There were tons of tiny prickles, that felt like spider legs to her fingertips, which she guessed were the stitches. Horrified at the violence that had been visited upon her, she took her hand away, eyes filling with tears.
Chas kissed her cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetie, it’ll be okay. This could’ve turned out much worse,” he reassured her. “I don’t know what I would’ve…” he broke off his sentence as the doctor came in to check on her.
The prognosis was good, and barring any complications, Missy was told that she could go home in two days. While the doctor was examining the wound and letting her know that he’d need another MRI before she left, Chas received a
phone call and stepped out of the room to take it. After the doctor left, Missy glanced about the room that she had been in for three days, noticing for the first time the floral arrangements, teddy bears, fruit baskets and balloons that filled every available inch of counter space in the small room. She was touched that so many people had been so thoughtful, and smiled through her tears at the handsome detective when he re-entered the room.
“You can’t know how good it is to see you smile,” he remarked, returning to her side. “I have something that I have to attend to, but I’ll be back just as soon as I can. Is there anything that you need?”
Eyeing the nurse who had just entered the room, Missy crooked her finger, gesturing for Beckett to draw near, so that she could whisper something to him. He grinned at her request, saying, “I’ll see what I can do,” then headed out the door after brushing his lips over hers in the softest of kisses.
“What do we have?” Chas Beckett asked Detective Richard Keller of the Dellville PD. Dellville was out of Chas’s jurisdiction, but Keller was a friend who knew how much he cared about Melissa Gladstone.
“Looks like your friend Missy, and the hippie chick that she hangs out with, are both off the hook,” Rich replied, laying down a file folder.
“No surprise there,” Beckett raised an eyebrow in an ‘I told you so’ manner. “So, whodunit?” he quipped, relieved.
“As it turns out, Sid Hixon had an employee, Roger Bowden, that he fired the day before his death. Termination is a pretty powerful motive. The guy had only worked for him for six months, and his coworkers say that he and the boss didn’t get along from day one. Seems to be the most likely suspect,” Keller tapped the folder on his desk.
“What does the evidence say?” Chas probed.
“Nothing yet, still waiting on the lab for a fingerprint match, type of poison in his system, time of death, all that stuff.”
“Any prior record on Bowden?”
