Mango Madness Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 15 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)

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 1

  Melissa Gladstone, vivacious owner of Missy’s Muffins and More, in LaChance, LA, and Crème de la Cupcake in nearby Dellville, sat across from her best friend, Echo, in her Dellville store, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

  “I can’t believe that Mr. Wonderful finally proposed,” Echo, the free-spirited former Californian remarked, popping a bite of Morning Glory muffin in her mouth. She owned the vegan ice cream shop across the street from Crème de la Cupcake, and often meandered over to catch up on the news of the day. She’d been in attendance at Missy’s incredibly romantic surprise proposal and was ecstatic, (and more than a tad envious), for her friend.

  “Believe me, I was more shocked than you were,” Missy confessed, smiling and blushing a bit, remembering her normally reserved fiance’s grand gesture. “I’m still trying to process the whole thing.”

  “I thought you two weren’t interested in a long-term relationship,” the happy hippy teased, taking another huge bite of her muffin.

  “And yet, here we are, over a year later…” Missy laughed softly.

  “Well, I’m sure there are quite a few people who go into something fully armed, emotionally, and determined to protect themselves, then find out that they’re with someone safe,” Echo observed, gazing at her friend fondly. “Personally, the last guy that I dated, turned out to be a serial killer,” she made a face.

  “Get a dog, they’re more loyal anyhow,” her friend winked.

  “Says the girl who just got engaged,” she shot back wryly.

  “Before I ever met Chas, I had Toffee and Bitsy,” Missy pointed out. Her love for her gentle golden retriever and spunky little malti-poo was well known, and Echo suspected that if it came down to a choice between the dogs and the fiancé, her friend would have to think long and hard about her choice.

  “Hey, Ms. G.,” Ben Radigan, the young manager of her Dellville store, called out from behind the counter. Ben had been working with her for years, and was about to finish up his doctorate in Criminal Justice at the university. His job at the cupcake shop was an easy way to earn a living while going to school and doing his research, and now he was almost done. He’d met his wife, Cheryl, when she came to work for Missy, married her, and now their baby girl, Cammie, who was Missy’s god-daughter, was nearly a year old.

  “What’s up, Ben?”

  “The mayor is on the phone for you,” he replied, holding the store’s cordless handset out to her.

  “Oh! Okay, put him on hold for a second, I’ll take it in my office,” she instructed, pushing back her chair. “Sorry, duty calls,” she said to Echo, giving her a hug.

  “Let’s just hope his daughter isn’t engaged again,” her friend laughed, referring to the mayor’s spoiled little socialite. Several months ago, he’d convinced a more than reluctant Missy to plan his precious Priscilla’s wedding, and it hadn’t gone well, even before the groom-to-be was busted for art theft and murder.

  “Fingers crossed,” Missy nodded, disappearing through the swinging doors that led into the kitchen and heading for her cramped but spotless office.

  “Mayor Chadwick,” she answered with a smile, settling into her worn, but beautiful, “baseball glove” leather chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Well, Melissa Gladstone, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with you,” the mayor responded. There was no such thing as getting straight to business in the South, there was always a preamble of socialization required.

  Missy smiled. “Indeed, far too long,” she agreed. “How’s your family?” she asked the required question.

  “Healthy and happy,” the jolly man replied. “And I hear you have some exciting news of your own. Congratulations! It’s about time that detective of yours put a diamond on that pretty little finger.”

  “Yes, we’re both very excited,” Missy agreed, glad he couldn’t see that she was blushing to the roots of her hair. The old-fashioned notion that a woman needed to be married in order to be fulfilled, stuck in her craw, but she understood that most of the folks that she knew felt differently. “So what can I do for you today, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Mr. Mayor, pish-posh, I told you darlin,’ call me Felton,” he insisted with a chuckle.

  “Yes, of course, Felton. How can I help you?” Missy corrected.

  “Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, we are in the heart of the mayoral election race here in LaChance,” he began.

  “Of course,” Missy lied. The truth was, she generally ignored the yard signs, bumper stickers and patriotically-colored advertising that shouted out for each candidate during election season. Before voting, she would spend some time delving into issues that were most important to her and her businesses, and if she had any questions, she’d generally seek out the candidates and ask them personally.

  “I’d like to see some of your work represented at the reception that takes place right after the mayoral debate, if that’s possible. Maybe some cupcakes in red, white and blue?” he requested, as though he were already assuming the answer.

  “I’m sure that we can make that happen, Felton, just have your secretary send me the specifics and I’ll take care of it,” Missy assured him, relieved that his request had been so simple.

  “I want you to really outdo yourself on this one, little lady,” he directed. “I’m hosting this shindig, and I want it to be remembered long after the debate is over.”

  “They’ll be the best cupcakes that LaChance has ever tasted, I assure you,” she smiled. After another round of pleasantries and promises to stay in touch, they hung up and Missy sighed. Projects done for the mayor were never as easy as they seemed, and she wondered what would be the catch this time.

  Chapter 2

  Missy rang the doorbell at Ben and Cheryl’s comfy little blue and white cottage, looking forward to spending some time with the young family that she regarded as her own. They’d invited her to dinner, and her stomach growled in anticipation of Cheryl’s homemade sour cream potato salad.

  Cheryl answered the door with little Cammie balanced on her hip. “Hi! Come in, it’s great to see you outside of the shop,” she teased, giving her boss a big hug. Cammie reached her chubby little arms out and waggled her fingers, wanting her godmother to pick her up, and no second invitation was needed, Missy swoop
ed her away from her mother gladly.

  “Hey little one,” she kissed her favorite cherub on the nose.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Cheryl called over her shoulder, heading into the kitchen. “Ben is on BBQ duty and I need to pull my biscuits out of the oven.”

  “It smells heavenly,” Missy inhaled appreciatively.

  Having grown up in the South, Cheryl’s fresh baked biscuits were like fluffy, buttery clouds of perfection. There were various bowls and pans of food simmering, cooling and waiting to be attended to in the cozy little green and white kitchen, and Missy sat on a bar stool with Cammie after peering into the many containers.

  “How can I help?” she asked as the young mother put biscuits on the cooling rack and took a short break to stir a crockpot of honey BBQ beans.

  “Do exactly what you’re doing,” Cheryl instructed, turning off the oven and moving to the cutting board to chop dill for her amazing potato salad. “Having the little one entertained while I do nothing but cook is quite a treat,” she grinned.

  “Perfect,” Missy cooed, looking into the warm chocolate eyes of the adorable child in her lap.

  Ben came in, resplendent in his chef’s apron, with a platter of fork-tender ribs. He’d basted them with just the right amount of his special homemade grilling sauce, and the aroma in the kitchen grew even more delicious.

  “What should I do with this?” he asked, kissing his wife on the cheek.

  “Just set them on the dining room table, it’s a little bit too chilly to eat outside,” she instructed, pointing her chef’s knife in the direction of the dining room.

  Ben set the platter on the table and came back to grab a heaping bowl of cole slaw and a pitcher of sweet tea, returning shortly, only to be handed a basket of fresh biscuits and the bowl of his wife’s locally-famous potato salad. She ladled the beans into a serving dish and carried it to the table, beckoning Missy to follow her. After setting the beans on a pot holder, she took the baby from her boss and fastened the giggling child snugly into her high chair. The adults chattered gaily while helping themselves to the bounty before them, and Cammie tapped on her white plastic tray with a child-sized spoon.

  “This is such a treat,” Missy exclaimed, dabbing her biscuit in bean sauce. “My favorite foods and my favorite people, it doesn’t get better than this,” she smiled.

  Ben and Cheryl exchanged a glance.

  “Well, we actually had ulterior motives for inviting you over,” Ben began, seeming as though he was trying to think carefully about what he wanted to say.

  “Oh?” Missy put a forkful of potato salad in her mouth and set down her fork, blotting her lips with a napkin. “Is everything okay?” she frowned.

  Cheryl smiled reassuringly. “No, we’re fine…we just have some news, that’s all,” she looked pointedly at her husband.

  Missy gasped. “Another baby?” she asked, her face aglow.

  The young couple laughed at her immediate assumption.

  “No,” Ben replied, smiling when her face fell in obvious disappointment. “Not that, at least not yet,” he glanced fondly at his wife. “So…you know I’ll be receiving my doctorate in May,” he said, waiting for her nod. “Well, I’ve already received multiple job offers.”

  “Oh, Ben, congratulations, that’s wonderful! I knew that would happen for you,” she interrupted, gushing enthusiasm. She was as proud of him as if he was her own son, which for all practical purposes, he had been for the last few years.

  “…and we’ve narrowed down the options and decided which one I’m going to take,” he announced, letting his breath out in a rush.

  “And?”

  “And…I’ve been offered a position at UC Irvine. I’ll be teaching a couple of classes and they’re going to fund the research so that I can continue. It’s the chance of a lifetime for a new post doc,” he added.

  “Oh Ben, that’s wonderf…wait…did you say UC Irvine? As in California?” she asked, her eyes widening with realization.

  Cheryl nodded, her eyes welling with tears.

  Missy was stunned. She knew that Ben would be graduating soon, but the thought that they’d be leaving her hadn’t quite sunk in yet. It wasn’t so much that she’d be losing both of her store managers, but that she’d be losing her family. The thought of not seeing these incredible people every day, and not being there while Cammie was growing up, hurt her heart, but she knew that she should encourage the young family to spread their wings and fly.

  “Congratulations, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you,” she reached over and squeezed Ben’s hand, tears running freely down her face.

  “We know that our move is going to affect your shops, but we’ll be able to help you with hiring and training,” Ben assured her.

  “Oh, Ben, I’m not worried about all of that. I’m just going to miss you all so much. I’m happy for you, but sad for me,” she admitted wiping her tears and trying desperately not to smear her mascara. Cammie, sensing the change of mood in the room, stuck out her lower lip, and lowered her spoon, looking at the adults wide-eyed, with tears threatening.

  “Oh, honey,” Missy cooed, plucking her out of the high chair and crushing her to her chest. “It’s okay, Nana’s happy. It’s okay, lovebug,” she kissed the confused child’s downy hair.

  “I’m sorry to spring it on you like this,” Cheryl said, wiping her own tears. “It’s taken us a while to adjust to the idea too. I’m s-c-a-r-e-d to move away from Louisiana, I’ve never been further away than Florida, and that was only for my senior trip,” she shrugged, looking young and helpless, but Missy knew better.

  “You’ll love it, I just know you will,” she said as Cammie snuggled into her shoulder, sucking on two fingers. “You two are strong and smart and brave, and they’ll be lucky to have you at UC Irvine,” she promised, her own tears starting again.

  Cheryl nodded and tried to smile, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Ben reached for her hand.

  “We’ll definitely stay in touch,” he said. “That little girl is going to grow up knowing who her Nana is,” he nodded, getting a bit choked up himself.

  As often happened to Missy in times of extreme emotion, she began to giggle. “Just look at the three of us,” she shook her head. “You tell me some of the happiest news of your lives, and we sit here boo-hooing about it. We are going to stop this right now,” she slapped her hand on the table with finality. “I’m going to call that wonderful fiancé of mine and tell him to pick me up from here after he gets out of work because I’m planning on being too tipsy to drive,” she declared. “We’re going to celebrate! Ben, you go grab us some wine,” she ordered, and Ben got up immediately, grateful for being able to count on his effervescent boss to make lemonade out of whatever lemons life threw her way.

  Chapter 3

  “Okay, Grayson, we’re going to need your artistic input for this project,” Missy told her assistant at the LaChance store when she reviewed the meticulously detailed order for the mayoral debate. Tall, pale, dark-haired Grayson was an art student at the university, and one of the most creative individuals she’d ever met. All of the clients at the shop loved him, tattoos, piercings and all. The quiet, shy youth had captured the hearts of even the most skeptical and refined ladies in town, and had created some of the most beautiful and tasty cupcakes the shop had ever offered.

  “No prob, Ms. G.,” he replied easily, as usual. “What have we got?” he peered over her shoulder. Shaking her head at the mayor’s particulars, she smiled and handed over the four-page order. “Wow,” he said, taking it all in. “At least he knows what he wants, and it shouldn’t be hard at all once I make some sketches for guidelines,” the youth nodded. Missy could practically see his creative gears start spinning.

  “Well then, my dear, get a plan together, run it by me, and we’ll make sure we have the necessary ingredients,” she patted him on the arm. “It’s all yours,” she said with a relieved smile, heading to the front of the shop.

  Grayson was s
urprised. His boss usually allowed him a lot of creative freedom, but oversaw each plan herself. To allow him to come up with all of the ideas, and oversee the project himself, was a major step, particularly given the high profile nature of this particular job. Grinning broadly, he dug into the mayor’s specifics with gusto, images and applications building in his mind.

  Missy went up front to see how Cheryl was coping, and saw that, although there were a handful of customers in the eating area, the young woman had things well in hand.

  “Hey, I was just about to start restocking, want to help?” she asked brightly when her boss came out to check on her.

  “Of course, just tell me what we need and I’ll grab the trays.”

  “Okay,” Cheryl bent to peruse the display cases, pen and pad in hand. “Okay…we need…four Coconut Crème, six Carob Cappuccino, two Sinfully Strawberry, a dozen Mango Madness, and four Margarita Lime,” she stood, peeling the top paper from the pad and handing it to Missy, who disappeared into the kitchen.

  When she returned to the front, she saw Echo slouched over the counter by the cash register, talking to Cheryl and looking decidedly glum.

  “Hey girlfriend, long time no see,” Missy greeted her, putting the tray of luscious cupcakes on top of the display case.

  “Is that Carob Cappuccino?” her friend asked, sounding weary.

  “Yes it is,” she replied handing one over. “You okay?”

  “I will be, but it’s gonna take two of these at least before I get there,” she sighed.

  Missy handed her another cupcake. “Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute with fresh coffee,” she ordered, giving Cheryl an apologetic look.

  “I’ve got this,” the young woman smiled with understanding. “I think Grayson just made a fresh pot of Costa Rican,” she gestured toward the kitchen, letting her boss off the hook.

  “Thank you,” Missy mouthed silently, turned so that her distressed buddy couldn’t see her.

  “What’s wrong, sugar plum?” she asked, upon returning with two piping hot mugs of java.