Pumpkins And Trickery (A Cupcake Shop Mystery Book 2)

by D. S. Mowbray

  “I did. The detective thought it probably isn’t serious. These kind of things happen a lot about this time of the year. But I don’t take it. I think it was forethought.”

  “Augh, I don’t know what to think. Like, that’s supposed to be comforting.”

  “It’s not.” He accentuates. “But it’s better than giving it the go-by. We should be prepared in case there’s a problem on spot that we need to look into.”

  It feels so nice how he included himself into this. I don’t know how to feel—flattered, cringed, annoyed?

  The next few moment go by without words, as I’m enjoying my breakfast that he prepared for me. “When did you become such a good cook?”

  “Oh,” he smiles, recklessly now. “You have to learn something when you live alone.”

  “Well, this is not just something. This is amazing.” I emphasize it.

  “So, when is it that you open up that shop of yours?”

  “Oh, my God. What time is it?”

  Kierra has stopped by for yet another cupcake, and I admire her prettiness while she savors my baking. She looks so happy, especially now that she feels like she has something good going on with her new guy.

  “I’m so sorry about what happened to your decorations,” she talks while chewing. “Do you have any idea as to who would have done it?”

  “I’m clueless,” I lie. It’s not good, I figured, to point fingers this fast, especially when the police decided this was nothing but a younger’s mischief incited by the autumn spirit. “But whoever it was, I cannot find a reason why they’d be angry at me. It’s not like I prefer going around and kick up a fuss. I don’t understand why anybody would go on a rampage in my yard.”

  “It’s so sad that I didn’t even get to see this year’s conceptualization. I always admire your autumn ornaments.”

  “I’ve got a picture of it,” I pick up my phone from the counter and scroll through my photos to find the one I took at my yard.

  “Wow, it’s lovely. As expected.” She marvels at the screen, when I’ve turned the phone around to face her. “So, what are you thinking? Would you succumb to embellishing it again?”

  “Oh, I won’t take a crack at it again,” I say impulsively, but then I frown. I won’t go this year without my favorite ornaments adorning my yard.

  “Oh, that’s so bad. Every year, it feels like the spirit or the season drops by your yard prior to the rest of us.”

  “Actually, I might take that bait again. Can’t have the townspeople missing the pleasure they get out of gawking at my yard,” I say proudly.

  After that, I have to deal with other customers that stop by, while Kierra savors another cupcake, and when I get back at her, I’ve come up with some great idea. I think.

  “Do you remember the therapist that Jaylon frequented a while ago?”

  “Hmm,” she frowns, pondering. “I think so. I don’t know her name, though I can ask the school’s consultant if you want.”

  “Please do that.” I ask nicely, with an appreciative smile on my face.

  Chapter Eleven

  “So you don’t think he might be dangerous in any way?” I look, shocked, at the therapist in front of me. Kierra was able to get back to me with her name last night, and as soon as I received her text, I made a mental note to come here and pay her a brief visit.

  “Most especially, not.” She says, assured.

  “But how can you be so certain? He stopped attending therapy months ago.” I’m still persisting that it is him. I don’t know who I am going to point finger to after that.

  “That’s correct. Be he didn’t show any aggressive sign all the months he came into therapy.”

  “What kind of mentally disturbed person would you say he was?” I was, yet again, hoping for an answer.

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but that’s confidential,” she says keeping her poker-face on. I find it strange how she’s been able to remain inexpressible all this time I’ve been sitting on this couch at her office. It was hard enough to get her to accept to have a little chit chat with me on such short notice, but it’s just as hard to get information out of her now that I’m here.

  “Why did he stopped coming here?” I keep asking. Most of my questions went by unnoticed, and I think that’s the case even with this one. She just eyes me inexpressibly, and I realize that I won’t get an answer yet again. “Mrs. Holloway, I’m so sorry to have bothered you with all these questions, though you have to understand. I come from a place of freight and insecurity. Someone has encroached upon my yard and caused a lot of damages.”

  “I understand. But like I said. I don’t think that Jaylon is implicated. This is my professional opinion. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got patients that need my help.”

  I get the hint, so with a smile I get up from the couch, and advance towards the door. She just made things even more blurred up. Now that Jaylon is off the list, I don’t have a clue who would want to do this to me. Or to my yard per se.

  When I get back at the cupcake shop, I try to get stuck in the routine of attending to the customers’ needs. But that’s effective just temporarily. I know that when I’d get back home to find the destroyed yard, everything would come back to me. And quite frankly, it’s not like it’s gone away, even now while distracted.

  The friendly vibe that Heather brings to the shop when she shows up warms up my spirit just a little, but you cannot expect me to be all so joyous, when I might have a secret assaulter on spot and I know nothing about who they are.

  “What’s with the gloomy face?” she asks, bearing her irresistible smile with her, wavering her blond hair on her back and eyeing me passionately.

  “Really? Forget about my yard?” I know that she’s egotistical, but not as much as to give the once over the current problems of mine.

  “Of course, not, silly. I just don’t understand. It’s just some decorations. I’ll help you tidy up. Maybe even purchase new ornaments for you yard.”

  “You’d do that?” I raise an eyebrow, knowing how much she hates tidying.

  “Well…” she wavers her head in a moment of hesitation and uncertainty. “Depends on how gloomy your face would be for the next few seconds.”

  “It was nice to offer anyway.” I say, and get ready to bring her her coffee.

  I don’t even need to ask now. I know that she won’t take anything else that isn’t a pumpkin spiced latte. This is her favorite season. She’s at her full force, with her PPL in hand, phone in the other, taking snapshots and boasting them online.

  “How are things going on with your job, anyway?” I ask, suddenly realizing that I haven’t been able to show interest about her life, having had a lot of troubles going on, myself. And yet, here I was expecting a lot from her end, even though she’s been the greatest friend a girl could ask for.

  “Augh, same old, same old. Nothing special,” she scoffs.

  Heather reached her peak with what happened with Kamron last month, and she’s been rendering in a mundane vortex ever since.

  “Here’s your latte,” I place the mug above the counter and look at her. Something weighs on inside of me. I cannot help it. I’m not used to seeing Heather so gloomy and unlovely. Heather I know is nothing but the most vigorous spirit you could ever find. “Why don’t you crash at my house tonight? I could really use some company.” Speaking of which, I still haven’t told her about the night I spent at my neighbor’s house. She’d go cuckoo about it. But then again, this is exactly why I’m keeping this from her. As for now.

  I have to take care of other orders that other customers come up with when they enter the shop. But I think that Heather is enjoying herself meanwhile, taking repetitive snapshots of herself with her latte.

  Oh, God. I’m accustomed to Heather being her crazy, raucous self. But I don’t see that very often now. Heather is impulsive, spontaneous, vigorous, enjoying every little thing life throws at her. I can see a glimpse of that person right now. But lately, not so much.

  She
’s more reserved, and considerate, and normal.

  You wouldn’t expect that to be a bad thing. But I do. Because it is Heather we’re talking about. She’s anything but reserved, and considerate, and normal. See, she’s not your average person. She’s impossible to deal with. But that’s why I love her. I don’t think she grew out to be so provident out of nowhere.

  Something seems off with her. And deep down I know what it is. What happened with Rylan got her down somehow and she still has not been able to recover, even though it’s been weeks since the breakup.

  I feel bad for having had to push her to go along with it. But it was inevitable. She couldn’t go around with a guy who didn’t treat her with the respect and consideration that she deserves.

  “Yeah, sure,” she accepts my offer, but I don’t detect there any sign of excitement or liveliness as it’d usually happen.

  The next house goes by uneventfully, and then it’s closing time. Heather and I drive back at my house, and the gloom has embraced the atmosphere. It’s strange how the darkness and coldness has wrapped up the city and it still looks lovable.

  Pulling over the driveway, I get out of the cat and walk toward my house with Heather strolling alongside me.

  I hinge at what I’m witnessing. I’m speechless and taken aback by the picture in front of me.

  “But I thought your yard was a real-life chaos. It looks nothing but…tidy to me.” She frowns and is as hinged by this as I am.

  “I did too. I know nothing about this.” I clarify.

  “Then how would you explain it? The attacker regretted what he did, came back and cleared all the mess he created? I don’t think that’s a possible scenario.”

  And then I look at the lit house next door. I spot shadows through the window and I think I know who might be after this unexpected tidiness.

  There’s just something magical about the outdoors this time of the year. Even though it’s really cold, there’s just some kind of quietness and snuggly embrace in the air that makes it just adorable. So beautiful it makes me so wishful.

  Chapter Twelve

  Needing new pumpkins made me visit the pumpkin shop again, and Heather tagged along even this time. She overstayed at my house last night, and this morning we decided to drive all the way down at the shop where I could find my harvest decorations.

  “Ainsley, I thought you already got the needful pumpkins for this year,” Kelsey points out when she sees me. Obviously, she hasn’t heard about the incident at my yard.

  “Well, something happened. Let’s just say that I need my pumpkins again.”

  “Oh, you’re always welcomed,” she smiles and asks me whether I need some tea, which this time I refuse. I don’t want to stay in the shop for so long. After everything that happened here, I don’t think that I feel the same nice vibe to it and I did prior the mystery.

  Heather and I amble towards the vine compositions and I avoid the one spot where I found the body in the beginning of the season.

  “I hope nothing unexpected hides underneath those compositions,” Heather notes, and I kind of expected her to say something about it. Because let’s be honest, the only reason Heather is here is because of me.

  I’ve been peering around the patch for a while now, but my eyes land on Heather’s for a moment, and I sigh. “Is it bad that I don’t feel the same enthusiastic about the decorations this time?” I ask, trying to realize where the lack of rejoice is coming from.

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s only normal you’d feel like this. After everything that happened.”

  I don’t know. Something seems off. I was overly enthusiastic at the beginning of the season, but now, not so much. Maybe it was bad coming here again. Maybe I should’ve left it at that. But, what can I do? People are counting on me to adorn my yard in the best seasonal way possible. Can’t let them down.

  “We still don’t know who’s behind your yard tidiness. Do you have any ideas?” Heather asks. I didn’t tell her about my suspicion about Gideon standing behind it. She’d just get skeptical and start asking more and more about him. And I’m not ready to tell her about the little moment we shared together at my yard and the night that I spend at his house, on his bed. Maybe it wasn’t even a moment after all, maybe it all just my imagination.

  That’s why I don’t want to rush. I have to be sure first. And it doesn’t even feel like me. Because I’d be sharing every trivial, silly detail with Heather. But this one, I want to keep it a secret.

  “I’m not sure just yet. Though we’ve got to be thankful to him,” I smile, not realizing the little lapse that just slipped by.

  “Him? Seems like you already got more ideas than you’re letting out,” she nudges my arm, teasing me. I think she knows that I’m hiding something. And if that’s so, then she won’t stop until she gets what she wants from me. She’s unstoppable. Boy, you’ve no idea.

  “Oh, it was just a lapse. Let’s not get hung up on it.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that it was,” she insists. “So tell me, who are you pinning this on to?”

  I sidetrack the question gracefully, having noticed something that captured my attention on the other part of the store. “Jaylon,” I call out.

  “Really?” Heather scoffs and wrinkles her face, surprised. And it’s a little funny because she’s not really so lightheaded so as to not notice that I was actually calling for his attention and not mentioning him as my secret yard fixer.

  I’m a little perplexed by everything that is going on inside of me, and I think that right this moment the impulsions are taking the better side of me. I find myself waddling towards him, calling out his name for his attention again.

  I don’t think that he heard me, but I stop howling since from what I remember, he didn’t like being pointed out, especially by me. So when I’m near enough, I sneak up on him, and ward off his way. This time there’s no escape, and I don’t care if he puts up a show. I’ll get the answers that I need. At least, that’s the motive.

  “Jaylon,” I mutter mildly as soon as I’m in front of him. “You got to listen to me. I’m not here to harm you in any way. But I think that you owe me some explanting. I don’t care about the body underneath the pumpkins this time. I believe that the police are taking good care for that, hopefully. What I need to know is why did you do it? Why did you destroy my yard decorations?” I know that the accusations I’m putting out are too strong, and merely based on hunches, but I think that they are to rely upon.

  “What are you talking about? Why are you even talking to me? I think I made it clear that I didn’t want to have anything to do with you. Should I get worried about getting a restraining order?” We maintain looks but he doesn’t seem scared this time.

  “I know it was you. The mallets, the pills, the anger, the vines compilation. Everything points out to it.” He frowns with each passing moment. Basically he didn’t expect me knowing this much about him. “And besides, I don’t think that I’ve upset anybody lately for them to carry on with smashing my ornaments for no reason. This is crazy behavior. And don’t mind me saying, but I think it defines you typically.” I know that probably I took it too far with this one, but I couldn’t help myself. All this rage gathered inside of me finally came out to the fore. And I think that I needed that. I don’t know whether it’s fair for me to take it all out on him, but I think that after that, I should feel better.

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And frankly I think you are the one who’s crazy. And if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” He manages to get away, and I remain speechless behind him.

  Approaching him, I had my hopes up that I’d get the truth out of him, but I think that I’m feeling this confused not just because I wasn’t able to fulfil my wishes, but because of what I did to him in the first place. The way that I lashed out on him.

  Heather imperfectly has snaked up on me, and having noticed the situation from the distance, she stokes my shoulder supportively.

  “Maybe we better p
ick up those pumpkins we came here for,” she proposes, and I look at her and force myself to smile. But I can’t. I’m just feeling all kinds of muddled right now.

  Silently, we get to the pumpkins and I know I won’t be spending much time here browsing. I just need to get out of here. But I won’t do that without a bunch of pumpkins alongside me.

  We waddle towards the compilation, and I start doing something that gives me so much joy, browsing.

  I think I’ve made nice choices when it comes to the pumpkins I carry with myself while I head out of the shop along with Heather, after having precipitated on the pumpkin’s selection segment. Heather needs to get to work, while I head for the cupcake shop.

  I didn’t expect too much attendance this morning, but despite my anticipation there’s a considerable number of customers in the shop, enough to make me exhausted. Most of them are here only for the cupcakes, but there are occasional cases where they are for something more, like coffee, tea or latte.

  It’s not been too long since I opened the shop for today, when Detective Cassidy appears in front of me for his usual order. I know that he’s not been changing his coffee habits for a while now, so I get ready preparing his black coffee before he even talks to me. I want to surprise him.

  “Wow, now that’s unexpected,” he points out with a smile when I place the cup of coffee above the counter. “You shouldn’t rely on customers carved in stone habits. They might surprise you in any moment. Like, say, today I was thinking about a latte for a change.”

  “Oh, snap,” I curse, banging the air with my fist.

  “I’m just messing with you,” he smiles when he detects the disappointed look on my face. “You just caught me off guard is all.”

  It’s not like detective and I are friends or something. Nothing like that to be honest. But since after what happened last month, we’ve grown to accept the presence of each other silently. So, say, when we’re in the same room together, the immanency of one another doesn’t bother any of us. That’s why I think to take advantage of the fact and ask him about something that has been bugging me lately.