by Amy Saunders
While Jonas investigated Kevin Pratt’s murder, Belinda parked the Cake Diva cupcake truck on the shady part of the lawn of the Lachappelle property. They were catering a late graduation party for the daughter, Shelby, who’d spent the weeks since her high school graduation on an art tour of Europe. A present from her parents. Shelby was an art major, heading abroad for her studies.
Since the worst of the Sykes’ scandal and Bennett’s legal issues had blown over, several in Belinda’s circle had asked about hiring the Cake Diva for events, which wasn’t something she’d set out to do, but it was worth a try since it meant more money and positive publicity. This was the first catering attempt, a rather last minute one, and Belinda had a different partner for the day while her cousin Mia (and pro baker) vacationed with her family on the Vineyard.
Belinda’s BFF, Victoria Hart, filled cupcake orders while Belinda iced more in the background. It was a reversal for her, and she appreciated Mia’s calm demeanor even more now while trying to keep up with the demand. She was also grateful she’d been working with Mia and improving her own baking and decorating skills.
The first rush of cupcake serving petered out, which was a good thing because they were running out of favorites and Belinda was hot and tired and emotionally drained. The special Shelby cupcake, invented specifically for this event, was a huge hit and Belinda was glad Mia had recommended making more of those and only a few of the other flavors.
Victoria was a natural. It took her no time at all to adapt to the truck environment, or to fill orders and engage customers. When they finally ran out of teenagers, Victoria grabbed a rag and started wiping down the metal counter. Her copper hair was held back with barrettes and she had a streak of blue icing around her temple. Belinda had learned that baking for sale meant finding icing, flour, and powdered sugar in every imaginable and unimaginable place on your body. “So give me the abridged version of Ardith and Jonas,” Victoria said. “I can’t wait any longer!”
Belinda tried to hit the highlights of the previous afternoon, skipping the body finding, which was another conversation entirely. “I think Jonas is going to ask her out.”
“He said that?” Victoria lit up. There was nothing like a potential romance to make a woman giddy, no matter how long she’d been married–or pregnant.
“No, but he seemed determined by the time things broke up. I don’t know much about his love life, but I can’t picture him blowing off a chance to go on a date with someone like Ardith.”
“She is gorgeous.”
“She hit him on the head with the volleyball.”
“Seriously?”
“I honestly think that’s when Jonas really started to like her.” They both laughed, standing in front of the open window to feel the breeze that blew up across the yard from the water. They had a fan in the truck, but it wasn’t enough on days like that.
“So this beach murder,” Victoria whispered in a more serious tone. “Are you and Bennett going to look into the painting?”
“As soon as this job is over, I’m getting in touch with Simone.”
Victoria smirked. “I’m surprised you haven’t already.”
“Actually, I left a message. I just haven’t heard back.”
“That’s more like it. Just don’t leave me out of things. I want to help.”
Belinda’s eyes darted to her friend’s growing baby bump, then Victoria’s hands rubbing at a stubborn spot on the stainless steel. “Go outside and sit down for a while. I’ve gotta make this other batch.”
“What if someone comes back for seconds?”
Belinda smiled, forcing her out the door. “Go. Sit. Down. I’ve got this.”
“Oookay, Miss Bossy Cakes.”
Belinda shooed her out, watching to make sure Victoria took a seat in one of the beach chairs they’d set out. Under the stubbornness, Belinda thought she looked thoroughly relieved to get off her feet.
Belinda retreated to the back of the truck to light up one of the gas ovens. It was difficult to light, but she could manage to do it herself now after a few tries. She leaned into the knob, cocking the lighter, and…nothing. After several passes, and switching to try to light the bottom oven without so much as a puff of smoke, she panicked and yelled out to Victoria, “The ovens won’t light!”
“Hold on!” In a few seconds, Victoria stood behind her, holding out her hand. “Give it here.” Definitely the more mechanically savvy of the two of them, Belinda knew it wasn’t good when Victoria swore into the metal box after several attempts. “I think the oven’s dead, Bels.”
“Dead?” She could feel heat rising to her face as her blood pressure spiked.
“Dead dead.”
Belinda counted the number of cupcakes left on the shelves versus the number of guests. Not. Good. She ran a hand over the top of her head. “I could take the car and race home and bake these while you hold down the fort. That won’t take too long. They’re all busy swimming now. Maybe none of them will want more anyway.”
Victoria just gave her a look. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Which is why I’m taking these home to bake.” Belinda stacked the cupcake trays, already filled, and tried to figure out the best way to put them in the car. Seat or floor?
“No, I mean taking them home. They have a house right there with a ginormous kitchen with glittering stainless appliances. Just explain what happened to Dinah and ask to use their oven.” Because asking Dinah Lachappelle to bake more cupcakes in her gleaming oven wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Belinda had never seen her oven, but she was positive it gleamed.
Belinda gazed at the house, a castle-like Cape nestled on a hill surrounded by greenery and a salt marsh. The truck was parked at the bottom of the hill in back, near the built-in pool. The salt marsh snaked around the rock cliffs bolstering up the homes dotting the shoreline. It was like a protective inlet, but with more wind because of the proximity of the open ocean. You could see the peak of their roof from a lookout on Ocean Avenue, just across the marsh.
“This is mortifying.” Belinda folded her arms.
“And carrying unbaked cupcakes in your backseat isn’t?”
Belinda sighed. “Fine. I’ll just go ask Dinah.” She marched up the hill, scanning the pool filled with bikini-clad teen girls, and entered through the glass door. She hoped she wouldn’t have to run through the whole house to find Dinah. This was embarrassing enough as it was.
She tiptoed in, trying not to make noise because of the echo from the vaulted ceiling, briefly admiring the artwork adorning each wall in the foyer. They were mostly original paintings by Shelby, landscapes of the farms in Portside, green and rocky pastures with horses and goats and sheep. Though Belinda loved the ocean side of Portside, the farms and vineyards decking the interior of the town were a large part of the beauty as well, and it was nice to see it represented.
After no success downstairs, she finally thought she heard Dinah’s voice and followed it into a hallway near the curved staircase that led to the bedrooms.
“Your father wouldn’t be happy about this,” Dinah said. “You shouldn’t have gone to that party.”
“Well, he’s not here to complain, is he?” Shelby said as Belinda crashed the conversation.
Dinah and Shelby were practically the same person physically and it startled Belinda as they turned toward her with the same waifish figures, same strawberry blonde hair falling to their backs, same blue-gray eyes and pinched nose with a splash of freckles across their cheeks. They were both in bare feet with a similar color toenail polish. It was quite different from Belinda and her mother. They shared the same golden brown eyes, but their coloring was very different. Her mom had olive skin with dark brown hair while Belinda was fair and blonde. Her father did call her Rosalind the Second sometimes, so she supposed they were more alike than she realized.
Belinda felt her cheeks turn red and she wanted to back out of there and run all the way home.
“We’ll finish this later,” Dinah sa
id to her daughter. “You have guests.”
Shelby gave Belinda a forced smile, her eyes on the verge of tears, and left. When the door shut, Belinda smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Dinah shook her head, trying not to appear stressed, though it was pinching up her face. “Just be grateful you don’t have a teenage daughter.” She inhaled sharply, brightening her expression. “Do you need anything?”
Belinda flushed. This was the exact situation she’d feared from day one of opening the cupcake truck: running out of products. “I’m sorry to have to ask this, but I have a situation with the truck. My ovens won’t start, and I need to bake more cupcakes or I’m afraid we’ll run out soon. I was wondering if I could bake them in your oven?” The words came out at top speed and her voice squeaked against her best efforts to calm down. Her heart was pumping too quickly.
To her relief, Dinah didn’t flinch. “This way.” Dinah waved Belinda after her through the foyer into the back of the house. And there it was, the gleaming stainless steel oven set amidst black granite countertops and traditional white cabinets. The kitchen didn’t look used, which was a shame because they had a perfect view of the salt marsh through the back windows. They’d kept the view unobstructed, setting the porch furniture to the side, closer to the pool. A ceiling fan whirred over their heads and Dinah’s voice echoed as she showed Belinda how to use the oven. “Need anything else?”
Belinda glanced around. “No, this is perfect. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.”
“It’s not inconvenient for me. If you need me, I’ll be upstairs. Just come on up.” Dinah smiled, though Belinda sensed something was still stressing her, maybe the talk with her daughter. Her feet padded softly on the tile as she left the room.
Once Dinah was gone, Belinda took a deep breath and hurried back out to grab her cupcake trays, knocking into a guy coming in from the pool. After apologizing, they both recognized each other. “Jarrett!”
A tall, lanky eighteen-year-old boy with blue eyes and brown hair smiled shyly. “Hi, Belinda.”
Belinda hadn’t seen Jarrett since his…well, issues, with her months ago. She’d heard from Russell Carmichael that his family had been staying with his grandparents, which is why she hadn’t seen any of them since everything went down. “How are you?”
“Okay. You know, busy. But okay.” He nodded fervently to back up his statement.
“Is everything…?” She wanted to ask about his court proceedings, but didn’t want to embarrass him or pry either. She hoped he would take the hint.
“You know… It takes forever. Nothing’s really happened yet.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve wondered how you were.”
“You have?” His expression perked up and Belinda immediately regretted saying so. Surely he was over it by now? “I’ve wondered about you too. How are you? How’s your business? Shelby says you’re famous.” The shyness blew away like morning fog and the upbeat neighbor kid was back, which Belinda wasn’t sure was a good thing.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Belinda laughed. Infamous might be more appropriate. “The Cake Diva’s doing well, though.”
“No, no. I mean the other stuff. Shelby says everyone at the yacht club is wearing your shoes now or something.”
By “other stuff,” Belinda guessed he meant the embezzling scandal, which she didn’t want to get into. But she’d be laughing for weeks if everyone at the yacht club went to Target to buy the shoes she was wearing. “So, you’re friends with Shelby?”
Jarrett rubbed the back of his head, acting awkward again. “Yeah. In school, you know.”
Belinda glanced beyond him to the Cake Diva truck–and a group heading there for seconds. Her panic returned. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing okay. I, um, need to get back to the truck for something. But it was nice to see you.”
“See you later!”
Belinda smiled back as he waved, his face beaming again. She didn’t dare return the idea…just in case.
She saw Jarrett by the pool again when she ran back into the kitchen entrance with the cupcake trays. He was engrossed in a conversation with Shelby, and Belinda thought in passing that maybe he was the source of the tension between Dinah and Shelby. After all, he’d gotten into serious trouble and had a history of, well, stalking. If that were her daughter, Belinda wouldn’t want him around either, though it pained her to think so. Maybe Shelby had invited him without consent. She’d mentioned something about a party her mom wasn’t crazy about. Maybe they reunited there.
Waiting for the cupcakes to bake was the longest twenty minutes of her life. Belinda rushed back to the truck, grateful to still see a few cupcakes in the glass peekaboo under the window. “Thank goodness!” she said as she fell into the truck, the trays clattering on the metal counters when she set them down. “I never thought I’d get back.” She felt hot from her walk from the house and took a minute to stand in front of the oscillating fan in the corner. The cupcakes needed to cool anyway.
After a second, Belinda opened her eyes. Victoria stood in the corner, eyeing her funny. “Why are you looking at me like that? Am I a mess?” She’d spent a few minutes in the bathroom to tidy up before lugging the baked cupcakes back to the truck, and didn’t think she’d undone it that quickly.
“Jarrett’s here.” Victoria tensed like she was braced for a freak-out, but Belinda didn’t even blink.
“I know. I ran into him on my way to get the trays.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Belinda shrugged. “Should I not be?”
Victoria only had to give her a look to tell her everything she thought about that. It was the sort of nonverbal conversation you could only have when you knew someone forever.
“He didn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me.” Belinda started popping cupcakes out of the trays. “It’s fine. Besides, I think he’s otherwise preoccupied right now.”
Victoria crossed her arms. “He came over here while you were in the kitchen.”
“So?”
“So that was after you talked to him. He didn’t come over here earlier.”
“He was probably nervous. He seemed really uncomfortable at first.”
“At first?”
“Yeah, well, he loosened up once I…once he realized I wasn’t going to try and eat him or anything.” Belinda busied herself with filling the pastry bag, hoping to avoid the rest of this conversation.
“Oh, brother.” Victoria sighed heavily. “You said something that gave him hope.”
“I said something that let him know I don’t hate him.” She fumbled with the pastry tip, not nearly as adept as these things as Mia. With Mia, the pastry bag was like an extension of her hand.
“Mm-hm. All I can say is it’s a good thing you moved.”
Her brand spanking new surveillance cameras came to mind, but Belinda dismissed it. That wouldn’t be an issue again. Not with Jarrett. “He and Shelby may be a thing,” she said. If she couldn’t completely change the subject, maybe she could at least divert the topic to something less personal.
Victoria took a knife and coaxed the cupcakes out of the tray, setting them in front of Belinda. “You know, while they were in line, I heard one of the girls whisper something about a guy to Shelby and she told her to shut up and glanced behind her nervously. So maybe the parents aren’t supposed to know.”
“Well, I guess she shouldn’t get too attached to anyone. She won’t be around much longer.”
“Are you really okay? I know it feels like it, but it wasn’t that long ago.”
Belinda paused her work and faced her friend, knowing what Victoria really wanted to hear. “I’ll be careful and I promise I won’t get complacent.”
Victoria pursed her lips, but nodded in acceptance.
Belinda finished decorating and stepped back to admire her handiwork on the first cupcake.
“Bravo!” Victoria said. “Only thirty-one to go before that gaggle of teens spy
ing us makes it down the hill.”
Belinda gave her a scathing glance and got to work.
Chapter 5
Standing in the art museum parking lot with Bennett the next day brought back a lot of memories. But the one Belinda chose to think about involved impulsively kissing him on the other side of the road in the dark. Before they almost got mowed over by a car. That Jarrett was driving.
So much for a perfectly happy thought.
Belinda had tried to contact Simone to find out about the painting, but learned she was in Europe for the rest of the summer, so she’d been redirected to Simone’s assistant, Angie Chen, a grad student at the Rhode Island School of Design. Angie agreed to meet them at the museum since she worked there part-time as a teacher’s assistant in the museum’s art class program.
Bennett put his arm around her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. It was his day off at the hardware store, though he did have some security-related client to see later, which he was being very mysterious about. Belinda couldn’t figure why, but she was too happy Tate Security was getting back in the game to care… Okay, so maybe she was dying for him to tell her, but she was trying to be patient.
“Are you thinking about the same thing?” he said.
“Our first kiss?” Belinda wrapped her arms around his waist, gazing up at him as they headed inside the museum.
“Actually, I was thinking about how you squirted that shrimp at Devore’s face, but the kiss was nice, too.”
Belinda pulled away, glaring at him as his gray eyes watched her gleefully, and strode ahead to the receptionist’s desk in the lobby. The museum was actually an old Victorian house, the rooms converted into galleries (and offices). Belinda asked for Angie Chen and the receptionist made a call and said she’d be there in a minute.
While they waited, Bennett poked his head into a small gallery off to the side filled with black and white photographs. He’d used most of his spare time recently for photography, and he had some beautiful shots on the Ocean Walk that she wanted to use above her mantle. Plus, being her boyfriend and all, Belinda had special-requested some images of different spots on the shoreline. They’d discussed frames and arrangement, and stuck various sizes of poster board to the wall with painter’s tape with notes about which images belonged where. She officially made up her mind after a gazillion changes, and Bennett was now at work getting the final pieces ready.
