by Carol Durand
“Absolutely not, young man. This is family time, you go film the book club out in the eating area for a bit,” she directed, hands on hips. The cameraman looked to Robin for guidance and she nodded.
Cheryl was sitting in a chair looking very uncomfortable, but happy, breathing rhythmically through a contraction. Missy sprang into action.
“Oh honey, I’m so proud of you,” she exclaimed, giving her manager a kiss on the forehead. “Once you get through this contraction, we’re going to help you to the car, okay?”
Cheryl nodded, puffing out her cheeks and breathing out slowly.
“Grayson, you get on the other side of her over there,” Missy directed Cheryl’s assistant, reaching for the laboring woman’s hand, and slowly helping her to her feet. The two of them propped her up and helped her shuffle toward the back door, where Ben, her scared and excited husband, waited with the car.
“Let us know when you need us,” Missy instructed, as they gingerly placed Cheryl in the car.
“Will do,” Ben nodded, putting a seat belt on his wife.
Chapter 4
“I have a date tonight,” Echo grinned at Missy over a bowl of her favorite Vanilla Bean Rice Dream.
“Wow, you and Frank have been spending a lot of time together,” her friend observed with a pleased smile.
“I know, he’s just the greatest,” Echo gushed. “Just when I had given up, this amazing man starts driving your cupcakes around and ends up being everything I was ever looking for,” she stared into space dreamily.
“Don’t fall too far too fast, honey,” Missy cautioned. She’d seen her friend get overly involved early on in relationships and end up getting hurt.
“It’s different this time. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks and I feel like I’ve known him forever.”
Missy gazed at her dreamy-eyed friend, keeping her reservations to herself for the moment, and allowing Echo to bask in the glow of new love…for now.
“I’ll be fine, really,” Echo assured her obviously concerned friend. “Besides, having a boyfriend may help me finally get rid of “Lounge Lizard Leonard,” she joked. Leonard had been a daily customer of hers since she’d opened the vegan ice cream shop, and he made no secret of the fact that his interest wasn’t solely in her delicious frozen treats. He seemed harmless enough, but both women found his tenacity a bit disturbing.
The show had been aired with amazingly positive results, and Missy had actually begun receiving fan mail in only a few short weeks. She had hired two of Ben’s friends from grad school to pick up the slack while Ben and Cheryl were on maternity leave, and business was booming. Work was progressing well on the LaChance shop, and Missy was facing the prospect of potentially needing to expand yet again, based upon recent sales. Life was good, and Missy was glad that the show only aired once a week.
The producers had selected Tuesday as their filming day because they thought the addition of the book club ladies would be a good draw for their audience, and they were correct. Some of the book club gals had received marriage proposals via email, and unexpected floral deliveries. All the locals seemed thrilled to have the production crew in town, and Missy had become a bit of a celebrity, much to her consternation. She even got stopped by local fans when walking Toffee and Bitsy in the morning, and found the lack of privacy involved in being on national television to be more than a little bit inconvenient. So far, though, the positives of relative stardom overwhelmingly outweighed the negatives.
“Who’s the stunning redhead that comes over every day?” an attractive cameraman named Brad asked Missy one morning, as he sat around munching on a cupcake during a break in filming. Neither of them saw Frank glance up from packing cupcakes for delivery to listen to the ensuing conversation.
“That’s my best friend, Echo,” Missy replied. “She was originally from California, but she moved here a little over a year ago and bought the vegan ice cream shop across the street.”
“Wow, I’d love to meet her sometime. She just has this…presence about her…a sort of grace and beauty,” he smiled, clearly interested.
“I wouldn’t go barking up that tree,” Frank interjected, startling them both with the vehemence of his statement.
“Why do you care, man?” Brad asked, puzzled.
“Because she happens to belong to me,” Frank stepped toward him, menacingly.
“Belong to you?” the cameraman scoffed. “What century are you living in, dude?”
“Just stay away, for your own good. Got it?”
Missy had seen enough. “Frank, aren’t you going to be late for the Women’s Auxiliary delivery?” she stood, daring him to continue.
“No, I’m never late. Never,” he muttered, turning to pick up a stack of boxes that he’d made.
“Sorry,” she said to Brad when Frank left to load the van. “He’s been seeing Echo for a few weeks now. I’ve never seen him act like that.”
Brad looked thoughtfully at the door through which Frank had just exited. “If my best friend was dating someone who had a reaction like that, I’d want to tell her about it,” he remarked. “No sweat, when she breaks up with him for being obsessive, I’ll be around,” he grinned, balling up his empty cupcake paper and tossing it in the trash across the room.
Frank delivered the Women’s Auxiliary order on time, but didn’t return to the shop afterward, and still hadn’t returned by the close of business, causing Missy to worry. She texted to let him know that he could drop the van off in the parking lot and just hang on to the keys, since he didn’t have a passcode to get into the shop after hours, and she received only a “K” in reply.
Chapter 5
“Melissa, it’s Robin Campbell,” the Production Assistant said shakily on the other end of the phone. “Something’s happened…I don’t know how to tell you this, but Brad Parker is…dead,” she choked back her tears.
Missy was confused. “I’m so sorry, but, who is Brad Parker?” she asked, moved by Robin’s tears.
“Your cameraman.”
Missy’s heart sunk when she realized that her favorite cameraman, someone whom she’d grown to know and trust, had died. She’d never known his last name, everyone on the set used first names, and the news hit her hard.
“Oh no, Robin, that’s terrible,” she murmured, feeling tears sting her eyes. “What happened?”
“He was strangled in his hotel room, one of my assistants found him this morning. The police are there now, trying to figure out who would do such a heinous thing,” her voice broke and Missy heard her blow her nose.
“Oh how awful,” Missy gasped, clutching the phone in a now-trembling hand, an empty and scared feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What can I do?”
“I’m sure the police will want to talk with you,” Robin replied. “They’re talking to everyone who knew Brad.”
“Okay,” Missy nodded numbly, although Robin couldn’t see her. “I’ll bring the crew some cupcakes later this morning as soon as my delivery guy brings in the keys to the van,” she promised, feeling that it was the least that she could do.
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it, Melissa, thanks,” she replied, hanging up shortly thereafter.
Missy was stunned. Who on earth would have strangled Brad, and why? He was well-liked by everyone, always cracking jokes and easing the tension when things didn’t go well during production. He would be sorely missed, and Missy hoped that whoever had done this terrible thing to such a sweet human being would be severely punished.
As difficult as it was, she had to shake off the news of Brad’s death in order to operate her hustle and bustle shop. There was already a line down the block and the doors hadn’t even opened yet. Her crew was up front getting things ready, but Frank still had yet to show up, frustrating her to no end. She had just picked up her phone to call him when he came rushing in the back door.
“I was beginning to worry about you,” Missy said, arms crossed, a tinge of reproof in her tone, as he reached for th
e stacks of boxes that needed to be loaded into the van for delivery.
“No need for worry,” he said shortly, heading for the van.
“In the future, if you’re not going to make it back to the shop before closing, I’d appreciate a text to let me know,” Missy said when he came back in for more boxes, sounding much more calm than she felt at the moment.
“Noted,” he replied, picking up another stack and not looking at her.
Missy frowned and left the kitchen, not wanting to unleash the anger that was building in her in the face of Frank’s surly behavior. If he continued to act this way, she’d have no choice but to hire a new delivery person. Echo might get angry with her, but this was a business decision, and Missy refused to allow her relationship with her best friend to negatively influence her decision-making.
Chapter 6
“I need ice cream,” Missy sighed, plopping down into a small bistro chair in the front of Echo’s store.
“Oooo! Good, I have a new creation that I’m dying for you to try,” her friend exclaimed, grabbing a scoop. She dug into one of the canisters in the freezer case and plopped an orange ball of some sort of frozen delight into a bowl and brought it out. “See what you think,” she encouraged, handing Missy a spoon.
There was a sublime blend of flavors that coolly caressed Missy’s tongue…just what the doctor ordered. She tasted mainly mango, but with subtle essences of vanilla and an unexpected twist of mint. It was haute cuisine comfort food and exactly what she needed at the moment.
“You have truly outdone yourself this time,” she nodded appreciatively, digging in.
“Oh, I’m so glad you like it, I came up with it this morning, after dreaming about a vacation in a tropical location last night.”
Missy’s spoon stopped midway to her mouth. “Are you going on vacation?”
“Frank and I have been talking about it,” she admitted happily, setting off multiple alarms in Missy’s mind.
“Really? He hasn’t mentioned needing to take time off,” she observed carefully, pretending to focus on her dessert.
“Well, nothing’s settled yet, we’ve just been tossing ideas around,” Echo shrugged. “Is everything okay? You seem…I don’t know…upset.”
“I’m just worried about you I suppose,” Missy confessed, putting down her spoon.
“Worried about me? Why on earth would you be worried about me?” her friend frowned.
Missy explained the exchange between Frank and Brad, and said that it made her worry that maybe Frank was being a little too aggressive and possessive.
“Aww…that’s cute,” Echo smiled fondly, thinking of her boyfriend. “I actually secretly like it when my man gets jealous. It shows that he cares.”
“Oh honey, it wasn’t cute, it was over the top,” Missy insisted, concerned. “He acted like he owned you, it was really disturbing.”
Echo raised an eyebrow, clearly not pleased. “Well look, Missy,” she snipped, growing angry.
“Not all of us have the good fortune to date drop-dead-gorgeous billionaire detectives, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have a meaningful relationship with a decent man who happens to care enough to stand up for me,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
Missy took a breath and bit back the unpleasant response that threatened to come tumbling out after her friend’s bitter-sounding comment regarding her relationship with Chas. “I’m not saying that you can’t have a good relationship,” she explained patiently. “I’m just saying that you haven’t known Frank for that long and he may not be who you think he is.” Missy noticed Echo’s eyes flick briefly to a spot behind her and over her left shoulder and instinctively knew that Frank was standing behind her and had heard the last part of their conversation.
“I really need to get back to work,” Echo muttered, turning and heading for the kitchen.
Missy stood, pushed in her chair and left her bowl in the sink behind the counter, brushing past Frank as he strode toward the kitchen, following his girlfriend.
“Frank,” she acknowledged him with a curt nod.
“Missy,” he replied, his dark eyes cold, his voice toneless.
Chapter 7
“So what do you know about Brad’s murder?” Missy asked Chas over a plate of raspberry crepes. He had come over to cook for her this morning because their days had been so busy lately that they’d had little time to spend together.
The detective blotted his mouth with a napkin and took a sip of coffee. “Well, we have a suspect now,” he said carefully.
“Really? Who is it? Who could’ve done such an evil thing?” Missy demanded.
Chas sighed. “You won’t want to hear this,” he advised her.
“Of course I want to hear it, whoever did this needs to be in jail,” she put down her fork.
“We have a witness who saw the suspect loitering around the hotel where Brad was found, and multiple witnesses who overheard an argument between Brad and the suspect earlier in the day,” he explained. “Unless this guy has an airtight alibi, it doesn’t look good for him.”
“Who is it? Who is the suspect?” Missy asked impatiently.
“Frank Stiles, your delivery guy,” Chas admitted, gravely. “And I need to ask you a few questions about a conversation that he had with you and Brad.”
Missy’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in horror. “Frank? Oh no! Do you think Echo is in danger?”
“I certainly hope not. We’re looking for him now, do you know where he might be?”
“No,” she looked at her watch. “His first delivery isn’t scheduled until 9:00 this morning, so he probably won’t come in until 8:30. I’m texting Echo, just to see if she’s okay,” Missy reached for her phone.
Chas put his hand over the phone before she could start texting. “You have to be careful, sweetie. I know that you want to check on your friend, but you can’t say anything that might cause her to tip Frank off that we’re looking for him,” he said gently.
“Can I just say that I’m sorry about our conversation yesterday and that I want to talk to her today?” Missy asked, on the verge of tears. “I just have to know that she’s okay. Even if she sends me a mad text, I’ll at least know that she’s alive.”
“Of course,” he replied, taking his hand from the phone.
Missy nearly lost her mind with worry when Echo didn’t respond to her text. She kept checking her phone, making sure that she hadn’t set it to silent, that she had enough battery and that she had a strong signal. She promised Chas that she wouldn’t say anything about Frank and received his reluctant blessing to go look for her friend at her bungalow and her store, returning home even more worried when she wasn’t at either place. Having a strong feeling that Frank wouldn’t show up for work, she made sure that there was enough staff so that someone could drive the delivery van if necessary, and when he didn’t show up for his shift, she was glad that she had anticipated the situation, but was even more frightened for Echo. When she had stopped by the ice cream shop, Echo’s assistant, Chelsea, had been standing outside, waiting, along with Lounge Lizard Leonard, and had no idea that her boss had disappeared. Missy told her that Echo wouldn’t be opening the store because she wasn’t feeling well, and sent her on her way.
“What’s wrong with our girl?” the shiny man with the salt and pepper comb-over and coke bottle glasses asked once Chelsea was out of earshot.
Missy looked at him strangely, his figure of speech making her shudder just a bit for some reason. “She’ll be fine, she just needs to rest, I think,” she hedged, keeping the real worry from her voice.
“Makes sense. That lovely creature works way too hard,” he observed, heading for his nondescript beige car. Missy watched him walk away, taking in the out-of-style clothing and awkward movement, wondering how on earth someone as ungainly as Leonard managed to be so confident.
Knowing that if she went home, she’d just drive herself crazy worrying about her friend, Missy headed back ac
ross the street to Crème de la Cupcake and spent the rest of the day immersing herself in creating new recipes. The distraction was somewhat effective, but just after the shop closed for the day, Chas came by with a forensics team to go through Frank’s locker, stirring up her fears all over again. They had not been able to locate Echo or Frank, and Missy was afraid of what the killer might do to her best friend.
Chapter 8
“The key that she used to keep in the mailbox is gone,” Missy worried to Chas over the phone. She had gone to Echo’s bungalow again, hoping to get inside and see if anything looked out of place.
“You do realize that you’ll be breaking and entering if you go inside,” the detective cautioned.
“Not if I use a key that she gave me permission to use,” Missy shot back, impatient. “Where on earth could it be?” she searched the porch and the back landing to no avail.
Sighing audibly, Chas decided to help her out. “Go to the front door,” he directed. “Now stand on your tiptoes and feel along the molding over the top of the door.”
“Oh!” Missy exclaimed as she accidentally knocked a key off of the molding and it landed with a metallic clink on the painted boards of the porch. “Wow, how did you know it would be there?” she asked, impressed.
“Just about every household in the US does that,” he explained. “But don’t use that info for nefarious purposes,” he ordered playfully.
“Thank you, Chas,” Missy said, unlocking the front door. “I’m going in to check things out.”
“Let me know if you find anything…and be careful,” he advised.
“Of course I will, but what could possibly happen?”
Missy crept into the foyer, feeling like an intruder. It was strange being in Echo’s house and not smelling incense or hearing the shrill screech of her ancient teakettle. The home was always so full of laughter, music and love, that it was depressing being here alone, without Echo’s bubbly presence. She missed her friend badly, and the further into the house that she moved, the more convinced she became that something bad had happened. It just didn’t feel right.
