by Carol Durand
“Yes ma’am,” Chris replied glumly, moving toward Missy’s car.
While he was loading the cupcakes, Missy called Chas and had a brief chat out of earshot. “I need you to help me with something…”
Detective Richard Keller was not happy about being called at home after 8:00 in the evening to discuss a case, but he and Chas Beckett were friends, so he begrudgingly made an exception.
“This had better be important,” the Dellville detective grumbled as he slid into a booth at the House of the Rising Bread café, which was located halfway between Dellville and LaChance.
“It is,” Chas assured him. “Thanks again for meeting me – there’s a piece of Mavis’s pie in it for you,” he offered magnanimously.
“She’d better have peach or heads will roll,” he muttered, easing up a bit.
“Take it easy, tough guy,” their stocky, no-nonsense server instructed. “You know Mavis always has a slice or two of peach pie in reserve for her favorite boy in blue,” she teased, setting the pie down in front of Keller. “Coffee?” she raised the pot.
“Is that even a question?” Rich smiled for the first time, offering his cup.
Chas waited impatiently through the interaction and got down to business as soon as the waitress had moved on. “I’ve had a breakthrough in the murder cases that you’re working on,” he began.
“You mean the murder cases that are out of your jurisdiction that I shouldn’t even be talking to you about?” he asked dryly, shoveling a forkful of peach pie into his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…we both know all of that,” Beckett waved dismissively. “You can take all the credit for cracking the case, I don’t care. I just want to see justice done and make sure that my…uh…people who are important to me…stay safe,” he said awkwardly, the heat rising beneath his collar.
“You really do like that little spitfire, don’t you,” Rich grinned, enjoying the typically ‘cooler-than-a-cucumber’ Beckett’s discomfort. “Alright, whatcha got?” he continued wolfing down his pie, looking at Chas expectantly.
“Oddly enough, strictly as a favor to Missy, I ran the name of Echo’s sister, Safflower through some database checks, and found out that she has quite the interesting past. She’s been charged with theft several times, but only convicted for a couple of them.”
“Jury finds it hard to believe such a sweet little thing could commit a crime?” Keller asked.
“That would be my guess from looking at some of the trial transcripts. It seems little sister is quite the actress when she needs to be in order to stay out of jail.” He ran his finger down a printout that he had made. “She was also accused, and acquitted twice, of murder. Somehow, in both cases, a boyfriend ended up taking the fall, despite a ton of circumstantial and physical evidence that pointed to Safflower.”
Keller shrugged, washing down his pie with a swallow of coffee. “So, could be something, could be nothing. What else you got? Or is eating pie actually going to be the most productive part of this meeting?” he challenged.
“I checked out the reports and the evidence for Sid Hixon’s murder, and talked to one of the patrons that had been in the shop when Sid came in. Apparently he had made a pass at Safflower, and when she responded less than positively, things got ugly between them. She was incredibly angry when she made Hixon’s sundae,” Chas reported.
“So? People get angry all the time. Most of ‘em don’t kill somebody just because they’re angry,” Rich stated the obvious.
“I’m aware,” Beckett returned dryly. “So I checked out the cell phone video that the customer had taken when Safflower was making the sundae, and because it’s shot from a side angle, it clearly shows her opening up a packet of something and sprinkling it on the sundae.”
“Okay, you have my attention,” Keller put down his fork and leaned forward.
“So next, I checked the autopsy report for the tox screen, and wouldn’t you know, it turns out that the poison that killed Sid Hixon is the same poison that was used in the murders that she was acquitted for in California. What makes all of this even more compelling is when you compare it to the autopsy for the homeless kid who ate the cupcake.”
“Lemme guess – same poison,” Keller supplied.
“Exactly,” Chas nodded. “Not only that, but the fingerprints that were on the counter and under the cash register when Missy was robbed, match Safflower’s conclusively, as do those found after her shop was destroyed. There were footprints in the mess when Crème de la Cupcake was turned upside down that were determined to be a female’s size 8.5 shoe. I know for a fact that Missy wears a 6.5. so they aren’t hers, and I’m pretty certain that if we find Safflower’s shoes, we’ll have a match.”
“So, this one tiny little sweet-looking girl killed a guy who had the misfortune to make her mad while she was dishing up ice cream, as well as a homeless kid, and destroyed both Missy and her sister’s shops, stole money from Missy, and you have the evidence to back all of this up?” Rich summed up Chas’s story.
“There’s a lot of evidence there already, and a bit more that we have to find. When we get a warrant to search for Safflower’s shoes, I’m also going to be looking for a blunt instrument of some sort,” Beckett said grimly.
“You think she’s the one who put your girl in the hospital? Interesting how such a small girl could pack such a wallop,” Keller mused.
“I thought so too, until I read through some records and discovered that she’s a martial artist. She may be small, but apparently she’s strong, stealthy and quick.”
“Good work, Beckett,” Rich nodded approvingly. “You’re not so bad…for a LaChance guy.” He stood to go. “Let’s go get that warrant.”
Chas stood to join him, and his phone rang. It was Missy, needing his help.
Chapter 11
Missy and Chris had delivered the complete set of cupcakes to the bridal shower with minutes to spare. They were silent on the drive back to the store, and once there, Missy told Chris to have a seat in the eating area. The youth was visibly nervous. His knee bounced up and down, and he picked relentlessly at a hangnail on his thumb.
“Chris, I want you to tell me all that you know about Safflower. You need to be completely honest, because if you’re not, people you know and love may be hurt,” she directed, her eyes boring into his.
He caved immediately, sitting forward in his seat and dropping his eyes to the table top, he told Missy that he knew for certain that Safflower took the money he’d been counting, but he didn’t want her to get in trouble, so he said nothing. Because she thought that she could trust him, since he didn’t rat her out about the cash, she confided in him that she had “taken care of” the ugly bastard who had harassed her at Sweet Love. She also told him that she had flirted with the homeless boy and promised him a meal and a place to sleep if he went in to the cupcake store and bought them each a cupcake. When he brought the cupcakes out to her, she poisoned his and fed it to him, because she wanted it to look like Missy had poisoned him.
“Why on earth would she want to do that?” Missy asked.
“Because she wanted to make it look like you had killed them both. She is really jealous of your relationship with her sister, and I guess she overheard you guys talking about her and didn’t like it,” Chris continued his confession. “She’s also the one who hit you on the head in the alley. I didn’t want to believe it, but when I was in her room at Echo’s once, I saw a baseball bat leaning up against the closet. It had blood and blonde hair on it – really grossed me out.”
“I can’t even imagine,” Missy murmured, feeling sorry for the young man who had unwittingly become involved with a young, attractive serial killer, but angry that he allowed her to continue to be in danger and didn’t say anything. “Why did she trash my shop and Echo’s?”
“I think just because she wanted to. She seemed really nice at first, but once I got to know her, she turned kinda…scary. I just think she’s an angry, nasty person who lashes out whenever
she feels like it. Seems like she was just using me because I happened to work for you,” he shook his head, embarrassed and ashamed. “I guess just because someone looks pretty on the outside, doesn’t mean they’re a good person on the inside.”
“You said it,” Missy agreed.
They both jumped when Chas knocked on the front door.
“What do you need help with?” the handsome detective asked, when Missy led him to the table she shared with Chris.
“Well, first you’ll need to get your guys out here to see if the smashed cupcakes in the back alley have poison in them, and then you can just sit a spell with Chris and me, because this young man has quite a story to tell you,” she said firmly, daring Chris to demur. The youth merely nodded, having made up his mind to do the right thing, finally.
With the information that Chas had dug up, Chris’s statement, and physical evidence found in Safflower’s room at Echo’s house, the Dellville police had more than enough probable cause to lead the deranged young woman away in handcuffs, her sister sobbing miserably as she left. It was unknown, as yet, whether Chris would be charged for not telling police what he knew, and until they figured it out, Missy, always a believer in second chances, let him keep his job at Crème de la Cupcake. Echo had reopened her store after the vandalism had been cleaned up, but Missy hadn’t seen her since their last argument over Safflower.
Working in the kitchen, baking extra batches of pumpkin spice cupcakes for a Fall Festival at the Jr. High, Missy heard a soft knock on the back door.
“Come in,” she called out, one hand keeping a cookbook open to the proper page, the other hand stirring a thick mixture of pumpkin and spices. Shocked to see Echo walk in, carrying a brown paper bag, she wiped her hands on her apron, stuck a shaker of cinnamon on top of the cookbook to hold her page, and smiled at her friend. “How are you holding up?” she asked softly.
“As well as can be expected,” her friend admitted honestly. “Listen, Missy, I wanted to apologize for being so nasty to you when you were just trying to help. I guess I just wanted so badly to be able to believe in my little sister…” she trailed off sadly.
Missy moved across the room enveloping her friend in a hug. “Don’t you worry about it. I never liked to believe anything bad about my sister either. Of course she was as pure as the driven snow, so it was never really an issue, but believe me, I understand, and it’s okay.”
“I’m so glad you’re talking to me,” Echo said, smiling with relief. “I had no idea how you’d react to me dropping in, but I had to give it a shot. I even brought you a gallon of Vanilla Bean so that you could have your treat even if you didn’t want to come to the shop to see me,” she held up the paper bag.
Missy giggled. “You’re so sweet! Of course I want to come see you. I’ll put that in the freezer for now, while you sit down and keep me company, but when you go, it goes back across the street with you so it’ll be there when I visit.”
Echo grinned from ear to ear, put the ice cream in the freezer, and sat down to visit. The two friends fell right back into their familiar routine as if no time had passed.
“Life has been pretty darn quiet lately,” Chas Beckett mused as he and Missy rocked lazily on her front porch swing, iced mint tea in their hands and Toffee at their feet.
“Shhhh…don’t jinx it!” Missy murmured contentedly, leaning her head against his shoulder, wrapped in the circle of his arm.
“So what new and exciting things are you planning now?” he teased.
“You know me, I always have a little something special up my sleeve,” she grinned, full of mischief.
“You’re not wearing sleeves,” he reminded her.
“Smarty pants,” she accused. “I may not be wearing sleeves at the moment, but Fall will be here before you know it, and the holidays are always special,” she assured him.
“Will I actually get to see you during the busy season?” he asked, twining one of her blonde curls between his fingers.
“I’ll make sure of it,” she promised, snuggling in closer.
“I’m going to hold you to that, young lady,” he warned, smiling down at her.
“I can’t wait,” she tilted her face toward his for a kiss, and just as he brushed his lips against hers, they were blindsided by a sloppy wet doggy kiss from Toffee, who clearly wanted a piece of the action.
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me what you think by leaving a review!
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Stay Curious,
Carol Durand
