The Diva Frosts a Cupcake

by Krista Davis

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Dear Sophie,

  My grandmother used to make heart-shaped cupcakes for us. She didn’t have a special pan. I can’t figure out how she did it. I’d like to do it for my kids.

  —Nana’s Favorite in Heartville, Illinois

  Dear Nana’s Favorite,

  Make three balls out of foil for each cupcake. Place one between each cupcake liner and the pan for the top, and one on each side of the point. Presto—hearts!

  —Sophie

  My fears were confirmed when the first person I saw in the emergency room was the general. Always the gentleman, he used the arms of his chair to push himself up. “Thank you for coming, Sophie.”

  I hugged him, afraid to ask whether it was Alex or Nick who’d been so brutally beaten. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “You’re helpin’ just by bein’ here, darlin’.” He lowered himself into a hard plastic chair. “He was such a pretty boy. Who’d have ever thought that would lead to his downfall? Half the nurses in the emergency room hold grudges against him.”

  It was Nick. It was Nick! How utterly horrible of me to be so happy that it was Nick!

  What was Nick doing in my backyard? I glanced at the general. He’d been so warm toward me. “I hope you don’t think I’m one of the women who is angry with him.”

  His fingers rubbed against each other. I could almost feel the wheels in his brain turning as they moved. “Did you ever go out with Nick?”

  “No. I hardly know him. But I’ve, um, heard about his exploits.”

  His head hung low. “I never knew he was taking their money. I’d have put a stop to that, and fast. That boy needed some real discipline. I wish I’d known. He’s a black mark on our family. How dare he bring shame on us like that?”

  I had a hunch he didn’t know about the possibility that Nick was also a killer. I figured it wasn’t my place to break it to him. After all, it wasn’t even confirmed yet.

  Across the waiting room, I spotted Alex asking a nurse a question. He turned, and a glimmer of a smile brightened his face briefly when he saw me. He joined the general and me. I reached out my arms to him. He embraced me and leaned his head against mine.

  When he released his grip, I asked, “How’s Nick?”

  “There’s good news and bad. Nick was incredibly lucky. There doesn’t appear to be any brain damage.” He grinned at the general. “Seems he has a thick skull like the rest of us Germans. But it’s fractured, and he suffered a concussion. His appearance will never be the same. His nose is broken, and his facial bones will require surgical repair. They’ll operate when he’s stabilized.”

  The general scowled. “The cops have been talking to you. Do they have any ideas who might have been so vicious?”

  “Not yet. Maybe Sophie would give you a ride home, General.”

  The general’s hands tightened on the armrests of his chair. “Not a chance. I need to be here for that boy.”

  I rose to leave, but the general took my hand in his and tugged gently. I bent over to him.

  Whispering, he said, “I’m not in the habit of entertaining married women. There has never been anything between Clarissa Osbourne and me. But if she divorces Spenser, I might give her a call.”

  He was adorable.

  Alex walked me to the door. “Thanks for coming. Nick’s parents are on the way. Once they’re here, I think the general will go home and get some rest. He’s a tough old bird. I hope Nick inherited some of those genes. He’s going to need them. His life will never be the same.”

  It would be even worse than Alex imagined, since I was fairly sure Nick would be facing prison on his release from the hospital. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I drove home thinking about Nick. Had someone figured out who’d murdered Muffin and taken revenge? Or had someone like Joy or Myra, who’d been left penniless by Nick the lothario, attacked him in retaliation?

  I phoned Nina, but once again, voice mail answered. I parked the car and sat outside in my little pavilion, staring at the spot where Nick had fallen.

  Rubbing my face with my hands, I tried to make sense of everything. Why would Nick have murdered Muffin? For the bejeweled cupcake? That would presume that he knew about it. When we delivered the desk, Muffin had said something about defending Renee because she had been wronged. Had Muffin argued with Joy? Nick might have come to Joy’s defense. Surely that wouldn’t have been enough reason to kill someone.

  Besides, if Nick was Muffin’s killer, then how had Maurice come by the cupcake?

  My head swam with theories. I thought I was on to something with all those Agatha Christie books on Clarissa’s bed and the jimsonweed growing in her house. Unless . . . I sat up straight. Unless Clarissa hadn’t meant to hurt Joy. What if Joy had never been her target? At the cupcake feast, there were people milling around in a tight cluster after the general fell to the floor. Clarissa could have easily jabbed the wrong person with the jimsonweed poison.

  And there was one other person living in the apartment where someone had booby-trapped the stairs—Nick.

  I could feel a flush of heat in my face. Alex thought Spenser or Clarissa was trying to kill the general, but Nick could have been the intended victim, because he suffered from the same disease, and he was the one who had picked up the cupcakes every day.

  But what was Clarissa’s connection to Nick? The rumor. That odd rumor about Clarissa paying Nick to keep quiet about an affair she was having with the general. He’d clearly denied it, and Alex said the general never lied. Then why might Clarissa be so desperate to kill Nick? Had she lured him to my backyard last night?

  Unless I missed my guess about his gloves, he had come prepared to dispatch her. Why had they met here? How could she have convinced him to come?

  Money. How stupid of me. Money drove Nick. I had paid attention to the wrong part of the rumor about Clarissa and the general. Clarissa was paying Nick for something. And it must have been major if Nick was willing to kill her, too. Something that implicated them both?

  I could only think of one thing that big—Muffin’s murder. But that didn’t follow, either. If Nick had murdered Muffin, why would Clarissa be paying him?

  I finally wandered back to the kitchen at a loss. I debated calling Wong again, but Humphrey returned, and I filled him in about Nick.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why would Nick be in your backyard?”

  “Great question! Did you discover anything on your cupcake caper?”

  “Actually, I did.” He sat down. “Myra is fun. She’s whimsical.”

  “So you’ve decided to date her?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m having dinner with Renee tonight.”

  “I thought they were driving you nuts.”

  He blushed.

  “Aww. Humphrey, I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself.” To be honest, I had hoped he might hang around tonight. “Will you be going home after that, or coming back here?”

  His eyes widened. “I forgot about you! I’ll change my plans. Renee will understand.”

  “You’ll do no such thing, but I wouldn’t mind if you slept over tonight. I’d feel safer if someone were here with me. I’m sure I’m being silly, but I’m a little uneasy after the attack on Nick last night.”

  “I’ll cut dinner short. Actually, that suits me very well. When Renee cooks up some kind of project for me, I’ll tell her I promised to be here for you.”

  “Thanks, Humphrey.”

  Determined not to be home alone, when Humphrey went over to pick up Renee, I walked with him and popped into the bar at The Laughing Hound. At least I would be in public. If that loony Clarissa got a notion to get rid of me so she could have Spenser, I wasn’t going to make it easy on her.

  I climbed onto a barstool. Moe was less than delighted to see me there.

  “What can I get you, Sophie?”

  “I’ll have the gossip du jour, please.”

  He laughe
d. “You’re never going to let me forget that. I ought to invent a drink called Gossip. Let me think about that. It should be exciting—”

  “But wrong somehow—not what it seems. And it needs to have a little kick, too.”

  “Sounds like a Long Island Iced Tea. Could I make one for you?”

  “I think I’d rather keep my wits about me. Maybe a regular iced tea tonight?”

  He nodded and promptly brought a tall glass over to me. “We’re all upset about Nick. What he did to those women was the lowest. But to pay for it with his life! He pushed one of them too far.”

  “His life?”

  “Haven’t you heard? He died.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Dear Natasha,

  I don’t have the sewing skills to sew matching dresses for my dog and me. Is there something easier that I could make?

  —Muffy’s Mom in Golden, Colorado

  Dear Muffy’s Mom,

  Sew a bandanna. All you have to do is hem the edges of a triangle and sew on sequin trim. You can do that by hand. Add the same glittery trim to one of your outfits!

  —Natasha

  If I hadn’t been to the hospital myself and heard from Alex that Nick would be okay, I would have believed it. I stared at Moe. He’d been a source of so much incorrect information that I was skeptical. Of course, Nick could have taken a turn for the worse after I left. Or had the cops started that rumor to prevent his attacker from finishing the job? “I didn’t know that. I’m shocked.” I was. “Do the cops have any leads?”

  “They were in here this afternoon asking questions. His latest conquest is that Realtor, Kayla. But Joy took a big hit, and she’s been very public about it. Wonder why none of those women brought charges against him?”

  I could only guess. “Maybe because they gave him the money voluntarily?”

  Someone slid onto the seat next to me. “You owe me a drink. A lot of them.”

  Maurice. Ugh. The police must have released him. Maybe coming here hadn’t been a good idea after all. At least I was surrounded by people. I nodded at Moe who poured Maurice a Guinness.

  “You just can’t leave me alone. Why do you insist on blaming me for everything that happens?” asked Maurice.

  “Why did you spread a lie about me?”

  Maurice rested his elbows on the bar. “Everybody knew you broke up with Wolf, and that you would date a married man.”

  “But it wasn’t true. Why would you do that? Poor Clarissa believes it.”

  “That was the point, dummy.”

  I swung around to see his face. “You meant to create friction between them?”

  “You bet. I want Spenser to know what it feels like to lose everything.” He smirked. “My little plot to taint his cupcakes didn’t work so well when Renee used the ingredients in her cupcakes. Didn’t see that one coming.”

  “You swapped the flour for the powdered sugar?”

  “Now don’t go telling the cops, blabbermouth. It was a harmless prank.”

  He broke into Cake My Day to do it! That was a crime, not a prank. But I kept my mouth shut.

  “And I didn’t kill Muffin. I liked Muffin. And I don’t like many people, especially not you.”

  That I believed. “I saw you there that night.”

  “You caught me coming out. I only went there to find something that would incriminate Spenser.”

  I nearly fell off my barstool. I didn’t want to sound accusatory, because he might stop talking. “And you found the cupcake?”

  “It couldn’t have been more perfect. That slimeball Spenser hid it in the desk. All I had to do was drop it in his car and report it to the cops. He would have been in so much trouble. A big, fat public scandal that would have ruined him.”

  “But that didn’t work.”

  “I’ll have another one, Moe,” he said. “I tried to drop it into the sunroof, but it rolled off the car, and that stupid dog swiped it.”

  In retrospect, it was sort of humorous. I didn’t dare chuckle, though.

  The door to the kitchen opened, and Bernie beckoned to me. “Soph? Could you give me a hand?”

  “Sure.” I paid for Maurice’s drinks and left a nice tip for Moe. Even though he’d spread rumors about me, he might prove a handy source of information. People undoubtedly told him all sorts of things when a few drinks had loosened them up.

  I followed Bernie through the kitchen and out to the alley.

  Natasha was waiting there with Daisy and Martha. “Bernie kicked us out!”

  Daisy had difficulty wagging her tail. She’d been dressed in a tight outfit with ruffles all over it, including on the pants! I ran my hand over her head and rubbed behind her ear.

  Bernie crossed his arms over his chest. “Natasha, you can’t bring dogs into the restaurant. Everyone knows that. I’ll lose my license.”

  “It’s a business meeting! How many times do I have to tell you, Bernie? Daisy and Martha are part of the business venture. They’re my models.”

  “Fine. Just not here.”

  “I can’t walk out on this meeting! These are very important people. I’ll lose the deal. It will ruin my name. This is embarrassing, Bernie. I’ll never patronize your restaurant again!”

  “If only that were true. Look, have your meeting. But without the dogs. Okay?” He took the leashes from Natasha and handed them to me. “Will you please take them home?”

  “Of course.”

  “It won’t be the same without them. They won’t be able to see the dogs in their darling attire.”

  Martha wore a red doggie ensemble. Was that silk? The fabric matched Natasha’s chic 1950s-style red dress. She’d replicated the voluminous skirt and the neckline on Martha’s outfit. Natasha’s purse matched Martha’s leash and collar.

  “Don’t worry, Sophie. I made you an ensemble exactly like the one Daisy is wearing.”

  I swear Daisy looked up at me, laughing. I didn’t want to imagine how my hindquarters would look in all those ruffles. I unfastened the dresses and handed them to Natasha. Daisy shook like a wet dog. “All right, let’s go home. Good luck with your meeting, Natasha.”

  Bernie pecked me on the cheek. “I owe you one, Soph.”

  “Wait a second, Sophie.” Natasha reached into her purse. “You’ll need this.” She handed me Martha’s glittery ball.

  I slid it into my pocket. The dogs strained at their leashes. Had Natasha cooped them up all day? I might have enjoyed the mild night if I hadn’t been worried about Maurice catching up to us.

  Two blocks from my house, Spenser and Buddy fell into step with us.

  “I think I might shed some weight now that I have Buddy.” Spenser breathed heavily. His white running shoes were so new that they almost glowed under the streetlights.

  I couldn’t help being a little bit leery. Even though I suspected Clarissa of trying to do Nick in, Spenser had the strength and the size to have inflicted those wounds on Nick’s head.

  “Buddy seems very happy.”

  “I’m looking for a place with a fenced yard. Do you go to the dog park? I think Buddy would like to romp with other dogs.”

  “Mars takes Daisy to the dog park sometimes.”

  We’d reached my house. “See you around, Spenser.”

  He followed me. “Um, would you mind if the dogs played in your backyard for a while?”

  I hesitated. Wasn’t this the perfect kind of scam to get me alone? What was I afraid of? Spenser had no reason to want to hurt me. It was Clarissa who was the nut. “Sure.”

  We released the dogs in the back, and I turned on the lights that sparkled overhead in my outdoor room. Spenser sat down. He held a ball that he’d brought with him, but the dogs shot to the spot where Nick had lain in the morning. I assumed it teemed with interesting scents.

  Excusing myself, I returned to the house for drinks. I mashed a banana and added coconut milk and pineapple juice for virgin piña coladas. I carried the drinks out the kitchen door but stopped short when I heard voice
s. Walking slowly, I peered around the corner of the house. Clarissa!

  The dogs raced toward me. To be on the safe side, I coaxed them into the kitchen and locked the door.

  Leaving the drinks on the counter, I slipped through my dark living room and cracked open one of the French doors to hear what they were saying.

  “I’m begging you, Clarissa. This has to stop.”

  “What do you see in her, Spenser? I’ll change. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Did you know that the police questioned me today about the cupcake that was stolen? They think I lied about the theft and hid it in my grandmother’s desk. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Silence.

  “Clarissa, if you’ve withheld anything about that night, it’s time to come clean. Did you hide the cupcake? Did you sell all the other things that you claimed were stolen?”

  “It was Nick,” sobbed Clarissa. “You and I were going through that terrible time, and Nick was so flattering. He made me feel special again. It took me a long time to realize that he didn’t love me, and that when he called me his sugar mama, it wasn’t cute. He thought of me as a bottomless money pit. That night, when you were in Miami, I cut him off—and he went wild. There was never a burglary—not by a stranger anyway. Nick took everything he could. I was scared out of my mind. I told everyone I was under the bed and couldn’t see who was ransacking the house, but the truth is that I was so scared of Nick that I locked myself in the bathroom and didn’t come out until morning. He’s been blackmailing me ever since. I couldn’t tell you I’d had an affair with him. I needed you more than ever. I was afraid not to meet Nick’s demands for payment. I can’t lose you, Spenser. You’re all I have. I need your love.”

  I hated to eavesdrop on her confession to him. It was personal and private, and I shouldn’t have listened. But given everything she’d said, I feared she had been the one who’d maimed—or killed—Nick.

  I ran for my cell phone and called Wong, who finally answered her phone. I explained the situation. She said she was already in transit. Tiptoeing, I returned to my eavesdropping spot, the dogs nosing around my feet.