Cornered by Cupcakes

by S. Y. Robins

  "Just on a break from work."

  "Oh yeah?" He looked up and smiled at me. "What do you do?"

  "I work at a bank." Not a great cover, but one that I hoped wouldn't garner any further questions. Better to keep it boring.

  "My name's Ryan, by the way." He reached over and passed me my coffee. I took a sip. Not the best I'd ever had, but close.

  "I'm Amber," I replied. I considered giving a fake name but decided to keep it simple. I knew from the books I read that you need to keep your lies down to a manageable amount when you're snooping and spying.

  "Enjoy your coffee Amber."

  I tried not to enjoy it too much. I was already a bit disheartened by how great everything at the Coffee Corner seemed. I hurried back over to June with the two lattes in my hands, being careful not to spill them. I hate to admit it, I was conscious that Ryan might be watching me walk away. Not that I assumed he was or that I wanted him to be watching. But...maybe he was.

  June took a sip and nodded in approval.

  "Calm down, it's not that great," I said. "Personally, I think our coffee is much better."

  "Of course it is Amber." She had to say that though. I paid her.

  "Anyway. Did you manage to overhear anything yet?"

  June shook her head. "Nothing interesting anyway. They've just been discussing the book they're reading. Apparently it’s called, The Velvet Dungeon."

  "I've never heard of it."

  "Me neither."

  As casually as I could, I tried to lean back to catch some of the women’s' conversation. They were busy discussing the protagonist's motivations for staying with her bastard of a boyfriend. It didn't really sound like the sort of book I'd be interested in. No murders. No mysteries.

  Speaking of, one thing did strike me as very odd about the women’s' discussion. A member of their club died the day before. I was surprised they even decided to keep the meeting. Maybe they hadn't actually been all that close to Monica. Maybe they just didn't care that a member of their book club had carked in a nearby shop.

  Just when I was starting to think they were all psychopaths, one lady finally pipped up on the subject. "Of course, Monica would have loved this book..."

  They all murmured in agreement. Another lady stated, "I just can't believe this has happened..."

  More murmurs. Then, "Do they know how it happened yet?"

  I felt my chest tighten and leant back just a little bit further in my chair.

  "They think that she ate some bad ice cream at that new ice cream shop."

  Well, at least eating bad ice cream was slightly better than premeditated murder. Slightly.

  Another of the women tutted. "I knew that place would be no good."

  "No one will ever eat there again."

  "I know I won't. I'll be avoiding it like the plague - mark my words."

  I leaned so far back in my chair that I toppled over, falling backwards right into the laps of one of the woman, a lady in her 40s with blonde hair and a crisp white shirt.

  "Are you quite right there!" She exclaimed, pushing me off her.

  I noticed June bring her hands to her face in shock over the scene I had made.

  "Oh I'm just - sorry, it's just, I heard what you were saying." I straightened myself up and readjusted my clothes. "Is it really true then? Did a friend of yours really die from eating bad ice cream? That's terrible."

  The women nodded. "It happened yesterday. You'd better take our advice and stay away from that new ice cream shop."

  "Really? Because I heard it was actually supposed to be pretty good."

  "Pretty good?" The blonde women looked aghast. "Someone died their yesterday."

  "But aside from that, I heard the ice cream was amazing-"

  "Don't eat there, and tell everyone you know to stay away from there. Just like we are."

  "I don't think we need to tell everyone we know."

  The blonde lady raised an eyebrow. "I certainly will be."

  Something about her rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was because she was setting out to single handily ruin my business. Who can say, but I did notice something else about her. She seemed familiar.

  "I mean, I was there with her when she ate the bad ice cream."

  Ah ha! So I did recognise her. Hopefully she didn't recognise me though. Thankfully I'd been out the back when the majority of the action took place.

  "Did you get sick then?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "Well, no."

  "Then how can you blame the ice cream for what happened? You ate it as well and you are still okay."

  The rest of the women looked towards her, expectantly. I knew I'd made a pretty good point.

  "Well I…I didn't eat as much as she did. I barely even managed to touch mine before Monica keeled over."

  Hmmm, I thought, looking at her skeptically. It seemed to me that she was very quick to blame the ice cream for what had happened. A little too quick, if you asked me.

  She returned my gaze. "What does it matter to you, anyway?"

  "It doesn't," I replied quickly. "I just don't want anyone innocent getting the blame for what happened. Innocent businesses don't need to suffer."

  "Yeah, well, there's nothing innocent about that place, believe me." She took a final sip of her coffee before buttoning up her cardigan. "I need to be off, ladies. I've got a crucial manicure appointment I simply can't miss. Same time next week!"

  The rest of the group murmured their goodbyes. From that, I gathered that her name was Beverly, and that she was something of the de facto leader of the group. As soon as she left, I felt the entire energy of the book club change. It was more relaxed and less organised as well. Discussion of the book all but ground to a halt and the conversation drifted more towards gossip and personal lives.

  "So who was she?" I asked a lady sitting next to me - the most elderly member of the club, as far as I could tell - a kind looking woman of about 70, wearing a purple blouse and a glistening swan broach.

  "Her? That's Beverly." She raised an eyebrow. Before she continued on, she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "And if you ask me - she's being very quick to cast the blame over Monica's death."

  "I thought that too." I whispered gleefully. "So you don't think the ice cream could be responsible either? Or the lovely young women who owns the store."

  "It's not that. It's that..." she hesitated, still making sure that no one else in the group was paying attention.

  "What is it then?" I prodded.

  "Well if you ask me."

  "Yes?"

  "Beverly never liked Monica. In fact, she hated her. They were always arguing."

  "Why's that?"

  "Well it sounds silly now. It's…it's probably nothing."

  "What? What were they arguing about? Were they arguing yesterday, do you think?"

  "Well you see, Beverly has always been the president of the book club."

  "Book clubs have presidents?"

  "Oh, we take this club very seriously my dear."

  "I see. So, what happened yesterday? Before Monica died that is."

  "Well, Monica had told her she didn't like the way Beverly has been running things. We all sort of think that way, but none of us would dare say that to Beverly's face."

  "Except Monica," I said.

  She nodded. "Except Monica. She told Beverly she was going to challenge her for club president."

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "Next thing you know, Monica's dead."

  She shuddered. "Yes."

  "So you think she might have..."

  "Oh, no. No of course not," she answered, too quickly. But she didn't seem convinced.

  Neither was I.

  "Sorry to disturb your meeting." I smiled and patted the woman on the arm. "And I'm sorry to hear about your friend's passing."

  She lowered her eyes. "Who are you?"

  I smiled. "Oh, no one. I just work at a bank."

  Chapter Three

  June was practically buz
zing as we left the cafe. It wasn't just the latte though, she seemed to be hyped up with some far-fetched ideas she'd gotten into her head about my love life.

  "He was totally into you."

  "Who?" I asked.

  "Oh don't pretend you don't know."

  "Um, I really don't."

  "The cute barista/manager. Duh. When we left he even asked when you were coming in again. He wants to see you!"

  "Oh. Him?" I shook my head. "No way. That's not going to happen June."

  "Why not? It's not like you've exactly gotten much action lately."

  "Well I've been flat out trying to run a business. Not much time for a love life. Besides, he's competition, isn't he? I don't want to end up in some kind of "You've Got Mail" situation."

  "You've got some time now, so don't use that as an excuse." She grimaced as she realised what she'd said. "I mean, not that you don't have a business now. I just meant…"

  "It's fine. I don't have a business right now." I glanced up the street towards the Cow & Moon. "There's not exactly a queue waiting for us to get back and reopen. But," I added. "It's not like I'm not busy. I'm trying to figure out who killed Monica, remember? So I can't go getting too close to Ryan, you know. He might come in use for my investigation."

  June nodded. "Actually, I was thinking the same thing. I didn't want to say anything, you know, if you had a thing for him, but seeing as you don't..."

  I stopped. The midday sun was burning down on my face and I was desperate to find some shade, or to get back to my empty shop but I needed to know what June meant by that. "What are you talking about?"

  "Okay, so, I was talking to him while you were getting the goss from the book club."

  "And?"

  She pulled a face. "I thought I might try to squeeze him for some info about Monica, so I asked him how well he knew her. He said that she mainly just came into the Coffee Corner on Tuesdays for the book club meetings. Except, for this week."

  "What happened this week?"

  "He said she came in for a coffee yesterday." June leaned in closer to me. "Right before she came into our store for a gelato."

  I took in what June was saying. As much as I hated to admit it, she was turning into a good detective's assistant. So Monica had been in Ryan's store right before she dropped dead in mine? As I was running over the implications in my head, June put the words to my thoughts.

  "She could very easily have been poisoned before she came into the Cow & Moon."

  "By...Ryan?" I pulled a face. "No. No, I don't think so. He didn't seem like a murderer, June." I turned, and kept walking, hurrying now to the safety of the shade. If I stayed outside for any longer, I was going to end up with a nasty sunburn.

  June hurried after me. "Well, they never seem like murderers, June!"

  "What other evidence is there to go on?"

  "How about motive?"

  "Motive?"

  "Think about it - we've just opened up a rival establishment half a block down the road. He might have known that Monica was coming in to try our dessert right after her visit to his place. So, he slipped the poison into her coffee, so that it would look like we'd poisoned her!"

  "That's ridiculous."

  "Is it?"

  I was still walking, but my pace had slowed. What if June was right? If there was anyone who stood to profit from a customer dying at my shop it was probably him.

  I snapped round to look at June. "I just really don't think Ryan could have had anything to do with it."

  She placed her hands on her hips. "I thought you had no romantic interest in him."

  "I don't. This has nothing to do with that. I just don't think he did it."

  "Do you have another suspect then?"

  "I do actually. That Beverly lady. Another woman in their book club told me they had a falling out last week, and that it heated up yesterday. I think she might have poisoned Monica out of spite. To be honest, she seemed the type to do that."

  June's eyes widened. "Wow." We both began to pace back to the store. "So what are you going to do? How are you going to figure out if Beverly did it?"

  I sighed. "I'm going to have to join their damn book club."

  "What book are you reading this week then?"

  "The prequel to The Velvet Dungeon. Unfortunately. I'm already dreading it."

  "But won't you have to wait an entire week to see them again?"

  I shook my head. "They only 'officially' meet once a week, but, June, these ladies treat that club like a full time job. It's more than just a book club, I think. It's a society. They're - we're - meeting tomorrow. Back at the Coffee Corner. So I'll be able to get some more dirt on Beverly then."

  ***

  That night I tossed and turned thinking about the events of the past two days. Images of my dwindling bank account were the main images. I silently counted out how many days I had until I was bankrupt. I had about a fortnight before I'd have to go begging to my parents for some cash. Which I really, really, didn't want to do.

  Then there were the police. My stomach tightened as I thought about what would happen if it turned out I really was to blame for Monica's death. What if the autopsy returned, and I fed her dodgy ingredients. I went over and over the ingredients I used. They'd definitely been fresh. Everything had been stored and refrigerated as it was supposed to have been. Nothing was past it’s used by date.

  Besides, no one else had gotten sick. That had to count for something.

  Just as I was finally relaxing and about to doze off to sleep another image forced its way into my head. Ryan.

  That bloody Ryan. So smug with his perfect coffees, and perfectly well-run popular shop. Well, he wasn't that smug. He was actually somewhat charming. I began to smile when I suddenly remembered what June had said.

  Could Ryan really have been the one that poisoned Monica? It was almost as bad as the prospect that I'd been the one to blame.

  In the end, it took a long time for sleep to find me after that.

  ***

  Beverly pushed through the door of the Coffee Corner like she was the Queen of France and took a seat beside me. She removed her glasses and practically did a double take as she took me in. "You again?"

  "Yes, me again." I tried to smile sweetly. "After I accidentally 'dropped in' on you yesterday I couldn't help but find myself become fascinated with this book you're all reading. I mean, the Velvet Dungeon books are right up my alley. I simply cannot get enough of them." I ended with another smile.

  "Oh really?" She replied, setting her sunglasses on the table. I noted her carefully manicured nails were still fresh from the day before.

  "Yes, really?"

  "Who's your favourite character?"

  "The...main one. Amelia?" I hoped that was right.

  Beverly rolled her eyes. "Well of course everyone loves Amelia. She's the young, innocent college graduate who gets her world turned upside down."

  At least I guessed the name right, even if I hadn't exactly impressed Beverly with my extensive knowledge. Maybe I really have to actually read the books.

  "So where's everyone else?" I asked. So far it was just Beverly, one incredibly quiet women, and me. The other woman hadn't even lifted her head to look at the two of us.

  Beverly checked her gold wristwatch. "They all seem to be running late. As usual," she added.

  "Hmm." I nodded sympathetically. "It seems like they don't care about this club as much as you do."

  She quickly turned to look at me. "They don't, actually. It’s the same old story of course! I'm left to run things while they are off galavanting about. I'm the only one with any real commitment."

  "You did leave early yesterday to get your nails done," I pointed out.

  She shot me a stern look and I shut up. I could see why she intimidated the other women in the club.

  "So..." I continued. I had to take this moment to try to drill her about the day Monica had died. This would be my best chance, before the rest of the club finally turned up. "Were
you and Monica close?"

  "Why do you want to know that?" She snapped.

  "I'm just sorry about your loss, that's all. I was wondering if you and she were particularly close. I know you were with her when it happened."

  "Ha. Not out of choice."

  "No?"

  "I had to meet with her that morning, to discuss a serious matter with her. It wasn't entirely a social occasion."

  "What did you have to discuss with her?"

  "I don't see that's any of your business."

  Ryan approaching us interrupted our conversation. "Amber," he said brightly. "Two times in two days." He grinned. "Seems like you can't keep away from the place. Things must be pretty quiet down at the bank if you can spend this much time sitting around drinking coffee."

  I could tell he was only teasing, even flirting, but I didn't like to be reminded of how much idle time I had. Especially knowing how busy his establishment was. "It's actually quite busy down at the bank, but I'm very high ranking. So I can come and go as I please." I was hoping that would shut him up.

  "Well that's good. Can I get you anything? Ice cream, perhaps? We're still in the middle of that heat wave."

  "I don't want any ice cream." I really hadn't meant to snap, but both Ryan and Beverly raised their eyebrows at my tone.

  "Okay, alright, chill out." He put his hands up. "It wasn't my ice cream that killed that women, remember."

  I turned around so that my back was to him and crossed my arms.

  "I'll take that as a no then."

  I waited until he had walked back to his counter before I turned back to Beverly. "He's so pushy."

  "Is he?" Beverly looked over her shoulder at him. "I mean, he's a little...vigilant, I guess. Always fussing over customers. Especially Monica."

  "Especially Monica." I sat up and lowered my voice. "What do you mean especially Monica?"

  "Oh I don't know." She waved her hand as though she meant for me to drop it, but I wasn't about to.

  "No, what did you mean by that?"

  "It's just that on the day she died, he was paying extra close attention to her order." She shot me a look. "I mean, he did serve her the drink she ordered, right before she died."