by Carol Durand
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing - All rights reserved.
All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 1
Petite, golden-haired, Melissa Gladstone pored over accounting statements for her two businesses, Crème de la Cupcake, in Dellville, Louisiana, and Missy’s Muffins and More, in her hometown of LaChance, Louisiana, with a broad grin on her face. Both businesses were booming. She’d closed down the Dellville store temporarily while her two managers, Ben and Cheryl Radigan were on their honeymoon, a trip to Belize that Missy had given them as a wedding gift, but since their return, profits at both shops were trending upward at a rate that astounded her.
She had to pause and wonder if her upswing in customers had anything to do with a personal endorsement that she’d received from the mayor of LaChance, Felton Chadwick, when she’d agreed to plan his daughter’s wedding. She was a cupcake artisan, not a wedding planner, but Mayor Chadwick was not one to take no for an answer, and since Ben and Cheryl’s wedding had been such a tremendous success, Missy had reluctantly agreed to plan Priscilla Chadwick’s wedding. She had yet to meet the young socialite, but had seen many raised eyebrows and looks of pity from folks who had, when they heard that she was going to be responsible for the wedding.
Missy’s cell phone buzzed, vibrating across the top of her coffee table, and when she saw that the caller was Loretta Christianson, an acquaintance from the LaChance Women’s Auxiliary who called Missy regularly asking her to volunteer either time or cupcakes to local charity events, she answered the call with a cheery hello.
“Hi Missy, Loretta Christianson here! How are you darlin?” the perpetual do-gooder inquired in her heavy southern drawl.
“I’m great, Loretta, how are you?” Missy smiled, suspecting that there was a request lurking on the heels of pleasantries.
“Well, sugar, if you must know, I’m in a bit of a spot, and I’m really, really hoping that you can help me out,” she admitted. She may have sounded sweetly helpless, but Loretta Christianson was a woman who knew how to get things done, and Missy knew that she was about to be drafted for something.
“Really? What’s wrong?”
“Are you familiar with the LaChance High School bake-off, sponsored by the Home Economics department?”
“Of course, I entered every year,” Missy chuckled, remembering.
“Of course you did! You always won too – how could I have forgotten that?” Loretta exclaimed. “So anyway, Missy, we are in desperate need of an impartial judge who knows something about baking. Right now we have, Mrs. Dowler, the Home Ec teacher, and Mr. Sanders, the principal. Is there any possible way that you could be our third judge? The kids would really appreciate it,” she pleaded.
Missy answered without hesitation. “Of course, Loretta, I’d be honored to help out. Just email me the particulars and I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Oh, thank you so much, darlin! I’m so relieved that someone who actually knows about baking, and is a little bit famous will be able to help us out,” she gushed.
Missy giggled. “Anytime,” she answered, shaking her head a bit at Loretta’s over-the-top flattery. The ladies hung up and Missy gathered her accounting statements into a file folder, putting it on the kitchen table so that she wouldn’t forget to take it back to her office in the LaChance shop in the morning. She took Toffee, her beloved golden retriever, out one last time before bed, and headed up the stairs, tired but content.
Chapter 2
Missy’s usual workday routine began after she took Toffee for a nice, long, morning walk, followed by breakfast, (to make sure that she didn’t eat too much of her own product at the shop), and a visit first to her LaChance location, followed by one to the Dellville shop. She made sure that deliveries leaving both stores were on time, and that there were enough staff members to handle the inevitable morning rush. The rest of her day was spent creating new varieties for “Cupcake of the Day,” and collaborating with her friend Echo, who owns the vegan ice cream shop across the street on combinations to make their locally well-known cupcake sandwiches.
Missy was a stickler for routine, and there were few things that could derail hers, but nasty weather was one of them, and she sighed heavily when she woke up, looked out the window, and saw a torrential downpour. Most of the time, the weather in Louisiana was mild and bearable, if sultry and humid, but occasionally she had to deal with either rain, or a cold snap, which tested her patience and made her reluctant to go outside. Donning a bright yellow rain slicker that stuck to her exposed skin because of the humidity, she snapped on Toffee’s leash and headed for the park. The sweet, obedient animal turned to look at her with eyes full of such shameless begging, that she grinned at the pitiful, rain-soaked creature and gave in after only a couple of blocks, turning for home. The dignified golden was a lady to the core, and didn’t much care for getting her feet and fur wet outside the civilized confines of the basement shower.
Once inside the house, the pampered pet shook herself, thoroughly drenching Missy in ‘doggy droplets’ just as she hung up her rain slicker. Fortunately, the devoted pet owner hadn’t taken her shower just yet, so she took it in stride, laughing at the disgruntled expression on her loyal girl’s face. She towel-dried Toffee, filled her food and water bowls and headed upstairs to get ready for the day. Her text tone chimed as she was climbing the graceful Victorian staircase, and she was delighted to see that the message was from Detective Chas Beckett. The two had been dating for several months now, and Missy had finally gotten more comfortable with the fact that she had some very strong feelings for the LaChance detective, but she hadn’t summoned sufficient courage to tell him so just yet.
“Lunch?” the simple text read. Chas was a man of few words, but when he did speak, his deep, rich voice was certainly worth listening to.
“Pick me up at 12:00?” Missy replied, not bothering to be coy. Their relationship had progressed past the ‘playing hard to get’ stage a long time ago, with both of them taking their time and taking care not to play games or impose unfair expectations upon the other. They made a great team, a seemingly perfect couple, and more than one friend had hinted that perhaps they should consider a more ‘permanent’ arrangement. For now, however, they were content to enjoy each other’s company and see what developed.
“You got it. See you then, Beautiful!�
� was his thrilling reply. They may have been dating for months, but that didn’t diminish the butterflies that tumbled sweetly in Missy’s midsection every time she saw or thought about the handsome and dignified detective. From the look that she saw in his eyes when he gazed at her, he was pretty well smitten too, and the thought warmed her from head to toe. The only thing that really made her sad in her relationship with the strong capable man of integrity was that he refused to talk to her about his family. She didn’t know why, but whenever she brought the subject up, he seemed to turn to stone, and rapidly changed the subject. As much as she cared about him, at some point, he was going to have to open up to her about his family.
“Looking forward to it! J” she replied, meaning every word. In the meantime, though, she had work to do, so she hurried through the shower and headed for Missy’s Muffins and More.
Cheryl, the manager, and Grayson, her pale, dark-haired helper were in the midst of the morning rush when Missy arrived. The Cupcake of the Day was a new introduction, and seemed to be selling out fast. Missy had created a delicately-flavored cupcake using lavender and honey with a thick, creamy vanilla frosting, and once customers had a taste of the light, moist cakes, they were returning to buy them by the dozen. She pitched in to help, by restocking the cases, then left the operation in their capable hands, grabbing boxes for delivery on her way to the Dellville shop.
The new Cupcake of the Day was going over equally as well in Dellville, and Missy couldn’t have been more pleased. Ben, the manager, looking tanned and healthy after his honeymoon, loved the constant flow of foot traffic, and was helping his grad school buddy, Chris, move as many cupcakes as possible, with a smile lighting his face. He had met his wife, Cheryl, when she came to work with Missy, after he’d been managing the LaChance store for a while, and it was love at first sight. The couple began dating shortly after they met, and the rest was history. Missy had planned their wedding, because neither of them had any family to speak of, and Chas had proudly walked Cheryl down the aisle to meet her groom. The staff of both shops was like family to Missy, and it had been a happy day indeed when the manager of Crème de la Cupcake had married his counterpart at the LaChance shop.
Missy had just finished boxing up cupcakes for Chris to deliver, when Chas came in the back door to the commercial kitchen. Sneaking up behind her, he placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck, startling her and causing the butterflies to flutter madly.
“Hey you,” she grinned, turning around, then standing on tiptoe to give him a proper kiss.
“Hungry?” he inquired, after her lovely greeting.
“Starving!” she exclaimed. “Just let me grab my purse. Is it still raining?”
“Cats and dogs,” the detective quipped. “But don’t worry pretty lady, I’ve got you covered,” he said, holding up a large black umbrella.
The gallant detective led Missy to his car, one arm protectively around her, pulling her close, the other holding the umbrella over them while the rain pounded down. Missy loved the nearness of him, his scent, the feel of rock-hard muscles beneath his shirt, the way he made her feel special and protected. She’d never felt about any man the way that she felt about Chas Beckett, and had been trying to figure out precisely how to tell him. Still holding the umbrella above them, he opened Missy’s door for her, and after she was seated, moved to his side to get in. The rain came down in sheets as they drove to The PoBoy Palace, a fantastic restaurant that made sandwiches so huge that Missy could never finish hers.
“What’s on your agenda for this evening?” Chas asked, taking a huge bite of his overstuffed muffaletta sandwich.
Missy chewed a bite of her Hot Pastrami with Stone Ground Mustard treat, and swallowed before responding. “I’m judging the High School Bake-Off tonight at 7:00. Want to join me?”
“Hmm…let’s see,” the detective mused. “Lots of people, lots of noise, a hot, stuffy auditorium that smells of old gym socks…I think I’ll pass,” he smirked.
“Chicken,” Missy teased. “I figured you’d feel that way, but I had to at least give it a shot,” she shrugged, smiling.
“I actually have a case that I’m working on tonight anyway,” he admitted, his tone growing serious.
“Something bad?”
“In the grand scheme of things, no, not too bad, but it’s a strange one nonetheless. There have been a couple of reports from ladies on the north side of town that have said they think that there’s a man hanging out around their homes, watching them when their husbands aren’t home,” the detective explained, his face grim. “I’m hoping that it was just a meter reader doing his job, or something equally innocent, but I’ll be contacting neighbors, asking questions, that sort of thing. It’ll probably take a while.”
“Hmm…that’s kind of creepy. Living alone can be kind of scary when I hear things like that,” Missy shivered and took a sip of her iced tea.
“Well, if you get scared, you know that you and Toffee are always welcome at my place,” Chas offered, covering her hand with his.
“I may just take you up on that, Chas Beckett,” she looked up at him coyly through her lashes.
“I hope so,” he responded, kissing her hand.
Chapter 3
Missy arrived at the high school early, wanting to take her time with tasting the many selections that the students had prepared, in order to give everyone a fair chance. She parked her car in the lot, thankful that the rain had finally stopped, and headed toward the building.
“Hey, Ms. G!” she heard a young girl’s voice call out, and turned to see Donna, her friend Echo’s assistant, jogging to catch up with her. Donna had worked for Missy’s dear friend, Echo, at the vegan ice cream shop across the street from Crème de la Cupcake ever the free-spirited former Californian had purchased the place.
“Well, hello Donna,” Missy greeted the girl with a hug. “Did you come out to watch the contest?”
“No, ma’am, I’m in the contest,” she corrected, out of breath.
“Really? I never knew you were a baker, that’s wonderful! I may have to steal you away from Echo,” she teased.
Donna laughed, replying, “Good luck with that. I get to work for the coolest boss ever – no offense – and I can eat all the free Vanilla Rice Dream that I want, who would leave that?”
“You do have a point,” Missy nodded, grinning.
“Well, I’ve gotta go,” the teenager bounced ahead of her, clearly excited. “It was great seeing you, Ms. G!”
“You too, Donna,” she called after the enthusiastic teen.
Once inside, Missy discovered that Chas had been completely wrong. The auditorium didn’t smell like old gym socks, it smelled like every kind of cake, cookie and confection that one could think of, and, despite having enjoyed a relatively substantial dinner, her stomach grumbled in anticipation. Loretta Christianson met her just inside the door and promptly handed her an instruction booklet for the rules and procedure, and a grading book that would allow her to record her impressions of each selection. The ten finalists had already been selected, so she’d be trying small bites of each of the ten offerings to determine which one should win the scholarship to culinary school and cash award of $500.00.
Missy took her seat at the judges table, between the Home Ec teacher, Mrs. Dowler, on her right, and Principal Sanders, on her left. Each student would bring three small plates forward, showcasing their entry, one for each judge. The student would then return to their seat to await feedback from the judges, and once they had received feedback, the next student would present. The lineup of students was random, and Donna’s name just happened to be at the end of the list.
Missy tried bites of each treat that were just large enough to make her assessments, and recorded points for each student, based upon creativity, quality and presentation. Most of the students did well in at least one of the three categories, but, by the time Donna stepped forward to make her presentation, no one had, as yet, been outstanding enough to take a clear lead. The
nervous young lady presented a Peanut Butter and Jelly Cake that was a beautiful sight to behold. It consisted of moist, delicate white cake, filled with a creamy, dreamy, strawberry cream cheese spread, and topped with a fluffy peanut butter whipped buttercream icing, crowned with a plump, fresh strawberry, crushed peanuts and graham cracker crumbs.
Missy was a bit reluctant to try the dessert, having never developed an affinity for PB&J as a child, but she dutifully took a forkful into her mouth, experiencing the biggest surprise of the day. Not only was Donna’s presentation stunning, but the cake was one of the most delicious things that Missy had tasted in a while, and she was definitely going to ask the young lady if she could buy the recipe to use for cupcakes.
Missy and Principal Sanders had only good things to say about Donna’s superb creation, but the feedback that Mrs. Dowler gave was a bit more of a critique. She pointed out that Donna had taken a risk, using a recipe that should have only been appealing to children, and that she had been fortunate that it appealed to an adult palate. She also chastised her for using ingredients (peanut butter and strawberries), that were known allergens, and could’ve endangered some of the participants. Missy was quick to jump to Donna’s defense and point out that, although her choice was risky, it had been outstanding, and that others in the competition had also used products that included known allergens like pistachios, chocolate and more.
Donna sat down after her assessment, cheeks flushed from receiving what she clearly perceived as unwarranted criticism. The school orchestra played a mostly in-tune selection of numbers from Broadway musicals while the judges tallied their scores. Missy felt more than certain that Donna had won the competition hands down. She had given the brave young baker nearly perfect scores in every category. The judges handed their score sheets to Mr. Clive Foxworthy of Foxworthy and Sons Accounting, to be tallied. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd runners up were announced, and were given trophies and prizes. Donna stood nervously with the remaining contestants, heart beating fast, knowing that her name would be the one called as winner.
