by Krista Davis
Shirley gazed at the ceiling. “Oh, I know. It was at The Laughing Hound. We were in the bar, and Spenser was having a drink with someone across the room. So I said to my girlfriend that if I were going to have an affair, it would be with someone like him. And the bartender—the new one, Moe—said to set my sights elsewhere, because Spenser was already involved with Sophie.”
Oh, swell. Just swell.
“Of course I also heard that Clarissa was paying Nick to keep quiet about an affair she had with the general. Can you imagine?” She cackled hysterically. “How do these things get started?”
I thanked them and left, knowing full well that they still believed the rumor and not me. I dragged home, so worn down that if my arms had been a little bit longer my briefcase would have slid along the sidewalk. Clarissa’s lies probably wouldn’t hurt me in the long run. I had enough corporate business to keep me busy. But no one likes to have false rumors floated about her.
I was so immersed in my own little problem that I forgot about Humphrey’s much greater nightmare until I walked into my house. Natasha’s assistant, Leon, sat on the floor of my kitchen with Humphrey, Daisy, and Martha. The rich aroma of French press coffee wafted to me.
“Sophie! You have to see this!” Humphrey wore a grin that could have lit the world.
“I made coffee. Hope you don’t mind,” said Leon.
“Not as long as I can have some.”
“There are cupcakes, too,” he said.
They looked delicious. Creamy chocolate frosting swirled to peaks. “Which bakery did they come from?” Given what we knew about Renee, I wasn’t sure I wanted to eat anything from Sugar Baby.
“I baked them, silly!”
I plucked one off the plate and bit into it. “Salted chocolate with . . . pistachio?”
“Exactly!” Leon beamed at me.
“They’re wonderful,” I said.
“Are you going to pay attention or not?” asked Humphrey.
“Okay, I’m watching.” I felt like a mom with an excited four-year-old.
Humphrey tossed Martha’s glittery ball onto the floor. She scrambled to it as fast as she could, picked it up in her mouth, and kept going, right into the foyer.
Was I supposed to be impressed? I applauded, hoping that was the right thing to do.
Humphrey snorted. “You don’t get it.” He disappeared into the foyer and returned with Martha and the ball. He set her on the floor and tossed the ball again.
Martha tore after it, grabbed it in her mouth, and ran like a little devil. She jumped onto the banquette behind the table and nosed the ball between the cushions.
I held out my palms. “I’m not seeing the beauty of this.”
Leon looked up at me. “She won’t give it back. She always hides it. Sometimes she carries that thing around for hours, but she never gives it back. The only way to get it again is to find where she hid it.”
“Sounds like Natasha. Maybe they’re a good pair after all.”
“She’s the greatest little dog,” gushed Leon. “I’m gaga for her. She’s the best thing about my job.”
“Why are you so excited about this, Humphrey?” I asked.
“Don’t you see it yet? There was one other person in my car right before they found the glittery cupcake.” He pointed at Martha. “She must have found it somewhere and still carried it in her mouth when I caught her and put her in my car.”
Leon grinned. “Then she hid it in the car.”
I was very skeptical. I plucked the ball from between the cushions and tossed it onto the floor. Martha ran after it, grabbed it, and continued into my family room. This time I followed her. She appeared to be looking for a place to stash it. I picked her up and tried to take it out of her mouth. She growled and bared her teeth at me.
“Told you,” said Leon. “No one can get it from her. Not until she decides to hide it.”
“I have to admit that Martha’s little quirk does cast a teensy bit of doubt that Renee was the one who lost it in your car. But wouldn’t you have noticed that she had something in her mouth when you picked her up?”
“It was dark! I didn’t examine her when I caught her. I put her in my car and drove like the wind to get her to the vet.”
We returned to the kitchen, and I poured myself a cup of coffee. “Let’s say your theory is correct about Martha grabbing the golden cupcake like her ball and hiding it in Humphrey’s car. Where did she get it?”
In unison they said, “At the cupcake gala.”
I leaned against the counter, holding my coffee mug with both hands. “That narrows it down to a couple hundred people.”
“Ouch!” Leon touched his shoulder and made a sizzling sound. “What got into you?”
“I’m sorry. I had a bad morning. Don’t mind me.” I needed to put Clarissa and her ridiculous accusations behind me and concentrate on Humphrey. His problem was very serious and would impact his life and career. “Why would anyone bring the stolen cupcake to the dinner? The thief would be a dolt to do that.”
“Crooks aren’t always the brightest bulbs.” Leon picked up Martha. “I’d better get back to Natasha’s. She’s on to a new concept for fame and fortune.”
“What is it now—gourmet dog dinners?”
“I don’t dare breathe a word. She has issued death threats for less.” Leon waved and let himself out.
Humphrey tapped his fingertips together as though deep in thought. “Who at the cupcake gala would have had a reason to steal from Spenser?”
“His inner circle. His employees and previous employees, which, by the way, brings Renee into the picture again.”
“How about Maurice?”
“I still don’t know what happened between him and Spenser.”
“I bet Renee knows.”
How stupid of me. “I bet she does, too.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Walk over there with me?” He nodded, and I dashed upstairs to change into Keds, which were far superior to heels for walking on the brick sidewalks.
I apologized to Daisy for leaving her at home, fed Mochie shredded chicken, and we were out the door.
Before we went into Sugar Baby, Humphrey nudged me and motioned toward Sugar Mama.
The open sign hung in the door, and Joy waved to us from the other side of the glass window.
“She’s open again? She was so depressed last night.”
Humphrey nodded. “Myra has a way with people.”
I tried to read his expression. “So how was it with the two of them?”
“It was fun! Like a slumber party.”
I still wasn’t getting a handle on his feelings toward Myra.
He opened the door to Sugar Baby and held it for me.
Renee rushed at Humphrey. “I’m so glad to see you!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. “I hoped you would swing by last night. Then this morning, I called the mortuary, and they said you weren’t coming in. I’ve been so worried.”
Her concern seemed genuine. She brushed a hair off his shirt. “Where have you been? I see a fine, blond woman’s hair.”
Humphrey laughed. “That’s from Martha—” He milked the moment. “—a Chihuahua.”
She giggled, clearly relieved.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked. “We were wondering why Maurice hates Spenser so much.”
“Oh. That.” She motioned to a table, and we sat down. “I don’t know if Maurice will ever get over it. His wife, Colleen, worked for Spenser at Cake My Day. She was so talented. She had great ideas for cupcakes and was innovative about decorating them. Anyway, she and Maurice got the notion that she was wasting her talent at Cake My Day. They thought they could make a lot more money if they did what Spenser did. So Colleen left to open her own cupcakery with the idea of parlaying it into a chain of bakeries.”
“Where was the cupcakery?” I asked.
Renee smiled wryly. “Right across the street from Cake My Day. We saw what happened there on a daily basis. First they leased
a space that was three times the size they needed. Then they put a small fortune into upscale décor. Very modern and sleek with fancy imported fixtures. It was beautiful but just not necessary, you know? They could have set up a darling place for one-tenth the money they spent. Then Maurice quit his job to become the brains behind the chain, sort of like Spenser is, except for one thing—he didn’t have Spenser’s genius for business, and he wasn’t a baker. So they’d sunk all that money into location number one, and before they’d even opened their doors, they rented and starting renovating location number two.”
“That’s awfully bold,” said Humphrey.
“Stupid, too. Cupcakes are a good business, but you have to work up from the bottom. They hired a really nice guy to help bake at the first location, planning to eventually make him the primary baker at the second location. But they were low on money,” she sighed, “so they mortgaged their house.”
“Oh no.” I could see what was coming.
“Spenser warned them to take it slow, but Maurice resented Spenser for that and told him to butt out. Spenser couldn’t believe how much money they sank into their upscale cupcakeries. They lost their house, of course. But it gets worse. Both the cupcakery locations closed, and Colleen ran off with the baker they’d hired.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Spenser didn’t do anything to them. They made their own problems.”
“It’s such a shame that Maurice turned on Spenser like he did. Spenser did his best to help them out. He took over the lease on the second location, and there were rumors that he loaned them money, too. As near as I can figure, Maurice needed to blame someone, and he picked Spenser. Probably out of jealousy, since Spenser had accomplished what they couldn’t achieve.” She held up her hand and ticked her fingers as she spoke. “Maurice lost his wife, his business, his house—there wasn’t anything left but anger. Meanwhile, Spenser has been expanding Cake My Day and everything in his life seems perfect.”
Obviously things were not perfect in Spenser’s life. I didn’t know if he was really having an affair with someone, but Clarissa’s screaming fits certainly didn’t fit the definition of a perfect life. She put on a good show of playing the wealthy socialite, though. To people who didn’t know them well, they gave the impression of having it all. “Where did Maurice get the money to buy the house he lives in?”
“He doesn’t own it. He lives there rent-free because he manages a bunch of rental properties for the owner. I think it’s part of his compensation.”
Once again I found myself feeling a smidgen of compassion toward Maurice. I’d been grumpy after one bad meeting. What if I’d lost everything? It would be hard to put on a cheerful face every day. Maurice’s thinking seemed to be warped as a result of his disappointment. He’d wanted Buddy because Spenser had indicated an interest in the dog. Was Maurice so confused that he thought he was also entitled to the fruits of Spenser’s success? Could he have burglarized Spenser’s home?
“Maurice wasn’t all that bad looking, either,” said Renee. “If he got a decent haircut and didn’t have that horrible stringy white hair hanging in his face, you wouldn’t even recognize him.”
Renee tilted her head coyly at Humphrey. Once again I found myself wondering what her game was with Humphrey. On the one hand, I wanted to like the sweet little blonde who baked such cute cupcakes. On the other hand, while I hated to admit it to myself, I didn’t trust her completely. How could I ask her about the gold cupcake?
“Do you know anything about the burglary of Spenser and Clarissa’s home?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dear Natasha,
Everyone loves my grandmother’s recipe for devil’s food cake. How do I alter the recipe to bake it as cupcakes?
Cupcake Demon in Devil’s Elbow, Missouri
Dear Cupcake Demon,
The recipes for most two-layer cakes will yield about twenty-four cupcakes. Don’t mess with a good thing!
—Natasha
“Wasn’t that awful?” Renee clamped her hands to the sides of her face. “Clarissa was at home! Can you imagine the horror? She . . . she changed after that. She used to be much more open and fun. I guess hiding under the bed while that guy ransacked her house was so terrifying that she never fully recovered.”
“Spenser was away?” I prompted her.
“He was at another store location when that brute broke in. Clarissa heard him coming up the stairs and hid, so she only saw boots, never his face. Honestly, just hearing someone tromping up the stairs would terrify me.”
“Do you know what he took?”
“Mostly jewelry, I think. Some computer stuff that was small and easy to take with him, like laptops and iPads.”
Curious, she didn’t mention the expensive miniature cupcake. As a baker who collected miniatures, it seemed like she would have been particularly interested in it.
Humphrey hung his head as though he was ashamed. I hoped he wouldn’t blurt out details about the cupcake and his arrest. As far as I could tell, she hadn’t heard about it yet.
I needed to wrap it up before he gave anything away. Renee was still my prime suspect, no matter how passionate Martha was about hiding her ball. “Didn’t you need Humphrey to pick up some furniture for you?”
She eyed him bashfully. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to do it. Spenser said I can use the Cake My Day delivery van. He’d probably even help.”
“Sure. Just tell me when and where.”
“Thanks.” She squeezed her shoulders forward and curled her hands inward so that she looked like a happy little chipmunk.
As we walked out the door, I couldn’t help noticing that Sugar Mama was packed with people. I was happy for Joy. She needed to make some money to get back on her feet.
Humphrey took off to arrange Renee’s furniture delivery. Having something to do would temporarily take his mind off his troubles.
On the way home, I stopped at The Laughing Hound. I walked past the hostess and down the stairs to the bar. It was nearly empty. Moe dried a glass.
He smiled at me. “What can I get for you, Sophie?”
“Nothing, thanks.” I jumped up on a tall barstool.
“Meeting someone for lunch?”
“Actually, I wanted to talk with you. When I came in here the other day, I wondered how you knew me.”
“Easy, darlin’. Bernie described you perfectly.”
“And you’d heard my name before. I understand I’m having an affair with Spenser Osbourne.”
He set the glass down. His hands on the bar, he lowered his head. “I’m sorry. Look, I know Bernie is a friend of yours. I need this job.”
Moe dropped the polishing cloth and rubbed his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You know, people come in, and you chat them up for tips.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t supposed to get around.”
“Who did you hear it from?”
“Uh”—he ran his hand over his head in discomfort—“that crazy guy, Maurice. Like I said, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I wasn’t completely unsympathetic. Even though I wanted to be furious and indignant, I had certainly repeated my share of rumors and had even relied on them for information. But I wasn’t ready to let him off the hot seat yet. “What else did Maurice tell you?”
“Nothing else about you, I swear.”
“He comes in for a drink now and then?”
Moe’s mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. “More like he comes in and hopes someone will buy him a drink. People are funny. A lot of them move away from him as soon as he sits down. The chick that was murdered? Muffin? He liked her. She never changed seats. Always treated him nice. And your Spenser is a real gentleman. Maurice acts like a jerk toward Spenser. Like he hates his guts. But Spenser always pays for Maurice’s drink and dinner and asks me not to tell him. That’s classy in my book.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Maurice and Muffin were friends?”
“I don’t know as I’d go that
far, but she was kind to him. He warned her to stay away from Nick Rigas.”
From what I’d heard, that was about the only good information he’d dispensed.
A faint grin crossed Moe’s face. “Of course, he also said that Clarissa had something going on with General German.”
“Clarissa is having an affair with the general?”
He pointed his forefinger at me. “Gotcha! Now you’re doing it. See how easy it is to fall into gossip?”
“Do me a favor, will you, Moe? I’m not having an affair with Spenser. Never have. In fact, I barely know the man. Will you start a new rumor that I’m not seeing Spenser?”
His mouth swung up on one side. “Paving the way for Alex German?”
“Nope. Just telling the truth.” I tucked some bills into his tip jar and left.
My afternoon appointment came off perfectly. The meeting about a huge corporate event went well. I looked forward to it, even though it would be a lot of work. And there hadn’t been even the slightest mention of my love life.
I swung by the grocery store on my way home and stocked up on goodies. Now that the weather was warming, I felt like barbecuing. I bought shrimp, ribs, and a few items for the salted caramel cupcakes that I’d been craving since the gala dinner.
After the groceries had been put away, I changed into a long-sleeve top the color of the shrimp I’d bought. Khaki skorts might not be fashionable, but they were comfortable. I pulled on walking shoes, and when I trotted down the stairs, Daisy waited at the door, wagging her tail. I clipped on her leash, locked the door behind us, and patted her, wondering how little Martha was doing.
“Sophie!” Nina ran out of her house. “Wait! I’ve eaten so many cupcakes that I need to walk. Do you mind? I have news!”
“Spill!”
We strolled toward the center of town. Daisy happily snuffled scents as we walked.
“When I was at the deli at lunchtime,” said Nina, “Myra happened to be there. She heard that Muffin was suffocated with a pillow.”
