by Harper Lin
“The Pink Cupcake.” Colleen smiled prettily through running mascara and red eyes. “Yes, I remember you. It’s so nice of you to come.” She sniffed, stood, and offered her hand to Amelia, who shook it.
“I just wanted to say I was sorry for your loss. I know you don’t know me, but I thought you and Greg made a lovely couple that time I spoke to the two of you, and since I’m having some cupcakes sent to your house tomorrow, I—”
“You’re what?” A shadow fell over Colleen’s eyes.
“Having cupcakes delivered to your house. Your mother ordered them. They are your favorites. The chocolate raspberry kind.” Amelia felt like an inept kindergarten teacher trying to reason with a five-year-old. “She told me you liked those the best.”
The cloud passed as quickly as it had surfaced, and again Colleen smiled politely.
“Yes. My mother is arranging the luncheon at our house. She said she was.”
Amelia sensed uneasiness in Colleen’s voice and was suddenly wishing she had talked herself out of coming.
“I could tell when your mother called that she was very worried about you,” Amelia lied. “Some people just have a hard time getting it out. They make you look for the compassion with a fine-tooth comb. But rest assured, it’s in there.”
Colleen looked at Amelia as if she were getting directions.
“That’s very kind of you,” Colleen said. “I know my mother means well. But I’m not like her. I’m more sensitive, like my dad.” She sighed, and a fresh spring of tears welled up in her eyes. “I wish he were here.”
Amelia plucked a Kleenex from a nearby table and handed it to Colleen, who blew her nose loudly.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Amelia said soothingly. She watched Colleen take her seat again, and when the girl didn’t say anything else, Amelia took a step toward the door. That was when she saw the face peering in at them. A man had been eavesdropping.
Feeling her entire back bristle, Amelia took off after him. She saw a portly-looking guy in a wrinkled denim jacket and black slacks quickly stride down the hallway, to the lobby, and out the front door.
Are you really going to chase him down? Amelia thought for a split second. Yes, I am.
Without drawing too much attention to herself, Amelia pursued the strange man into the parking lot. He was fumbling with his keys when she saw him.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Hey, you! I want to talk to you!”
The man looked up and snickered.
“It’s no big deal, lady. I didn’t do anything.”
“I didn’t say you did,” Amelia snapped back. “But your remark makes me think you might be up to no good.”
“Oh, no. Not me. I’m the only one trying to do any good. I’m the only one who knows the truth, and no one will believe me.”
“How do you know Colleen?”
The man bit his lip. He wouldn’t be unattractive if he’d get his hair trimmed off his collar and maybe wear a pair of dress shoes instead of gym shoes with his slacks.
“I don’t really know her,” he muttered, looking up at the sky. He scratched his eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve just been her neighbor for over ten years. But her mother the pit bull never let the outside world infringe on her azaleas.”
Could this be the rarely seen Bud Fetzer?
“I don’t really know her either. My name is Amelia Harley.” She extended her hand.
“Bud Fetzer,” the man replied, looking down his nose at Amelia as if he were studying lobsters in a tank, looking for the healthiest specimen. His lips pulled down at the corners as though he smelled something bad.
“So Bud. Why were you eavesdropping on Colleen and me?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was hoping I might be able to get her alone for just a minute.”
“To do what?” Amelia’s eyes flashed with that same storm she’d seen in Colleen’s eyes.
“Please, don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Amelia gasped.
“I needed to talk to her about something that I’m not sharing with you, Amelia Harley.” Bud smirked. “It’s a matter for law enforcement, if you must know.”
“Law enforcement?” Amelia looked Bud up and down.
“For what it’s worth. The law enforcement in Gary is hardly the public’s first line of defense. If they knew what I knew. Let’s just say more people would have those decorative bars on their doors and windows. But they want to stay blind. Asleep. But all you have to do is listen.”
“Listen? To what?”
“My podcast.” Bud pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Amelia. Clock-watcher’s Report was written in black letters over a plain white background with nothing but Bud’s name and an email address on it. “I’ve got over one million subscribers. Over a million people from all over the country are awake. But I can’t get my neighbor to flipping open her eyes for even a second. Not even one second.”
“Do you have a crush on Colleen?” Amelia asked kindly as if she were talking to Adam or someone his age.
“What?” Bud blushed. “No. I mean, she’s beautiful. But she knows it. It’s only a matter of time before she takes on her mother’s personality and the whole fantasy is ruined.”
“Fantasy?”
“Look, Amelia, I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m getting out of here. There are eyes and ears all over the place. I have to watch my back. Now that you’ve been seen with me, you better do the same.”
He climbed into a beautiful silver BMW and quickly zoomed out of the parking lot and onto the quiet street.
Before he hit the first traffic light, Amelia had Dan on the phone.
Chapter Six
After telling Dan what Bud had said to her, Amelia was on her way to relieve Lila of her duties for the day. She had graciously agreed to steer the ship until Amelia returned, and when she saw her face and a batch of burnt PB&J cupcakes, she felt a wave of guilt.
“I should have never left you alone,” Amelia said, fretting, as she quickly dumped her purse and pulled on a pink apron.
“I’m sorry. We got slammed, and those PB and Js were the casualties. You know, when we first started, you could walk away from the truck for two hours and the steady stream was manageable. But now, you are in demand. How many magazines have you been written up in?”
“I lost count.” Amelia grabbed a rag and started cleaning the workstation in order to start a new batch.
“So it’s not a bad thing.”
“That’s it, Lila. Take a break. In fact, if you want to leave for the day, I’ll handle the truck.”
“What? And not hear what you learned at the Scottson funeral? No way.”
Amelia chuckled and shook her head. The truth was she did learn a good deal at the Scottson funeral, and she repeated it to Lila, up to and including her call to Dan.
“You know, I hate to say it, but this little incident with Bud Fetzer has given me the jolt of energy I’ve been needing,” Amelia confessed. “Lila, we need to hire an assistant. You write up the ad. Anyone with food truck experience will be bumped to the front of the line. Anyone with baking experience will be hired.”
“You got it, boss lady. Now tell me, do you think that Bud Fetzer had something to do with Greg’s death?”
“I don’t know. He just didn’t act right. Dan always says go with your gut. That’s why I called him.”
“I went with my gut when I joined Rusty for a pig roast at his house. The whole pig was cooked in the ground.”
“How is Rusty? You haven’t mentioned him in a while.” Amelia smiled. Rusty owned the Twisted Spoke biker bar and restaurant in town and was just as delightfully odd and brassy as Lila.
“He’s off on his yearly sabbatical through Idaho and Montana.”
“Yikes. He’s looking for a little solitude.”
“He says it keeps him centered and he remembers how small he is in the grand scheme of things.”
“He didn’t ask you to tag alon
g?” Amelia winked.
“Actually, he did. Something about one sleeping bag and a blanket of stars over our heads every night.”
Amelia stared at her friend.
“Amelia, do I look like the kind of girl who sleeps outside?”
Both ladies laughed just as Amelia’s phone went off. It was Dan.
“I just came from Bud Fetzer’s place,” Dan reported. “We’ve got a bit of a problem.”
“Did another camera fall on you?” Amelia asked seriously.
“Not quite. Bud took me into his house.”
“Oh no. Did he make you watch reruns of Star Trek and Doctor Who?” Amelia teased. Quickly, she realized that Dan was not in a joking mood.
“He’s got an arsenal of surveillance devices in there. Night-vision goggles. Infrared binoculars. He’s got video surveillance cameras that connect with half a dozen television screens showing what’s out there on his property. Telescopes that can focus in on a flea on a pinhead. It’s at least a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of equipment.”
“That’s quite a hobby,” Amelia said.
“He’s also got a telescope and two surveillance cameras that are pointed directly at the Jameson house.”
“Eww.” Amelia squealed. “See, I told you I got a slimy feel from the guy.”
“Right. I asked him why he was watching them.”
“What did he say?”
“As cool as a cucumber, he said he wasn’t watching them. He was watching the northern sky since that was where SETI had reported a highly active area of the sky for unidentified flying objects.”
“What in the world is SETI?”
“The Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence,” both Dan and Lila replied in unison. Amelia looked at Lila in surprise.
“So is he saying aliens did something to Greg?”
“Nope. He’s saying he saw a man up on the roof.”
“So he saw Greg up there?”
“He said he saw Greg up there and another man toss him off the roof.”
Amelia slumped.
“I don’t know what to say.” Amelia hadn’t been prepared for such an odd response. Instead, she thought about her visit tomorrow to the Jameson home for the funeral luncheon.
“Neither do I,” Dan muttered. “We are required to follow up with every lead, but I don’t know if this can be considered a lead. The guy sees shadow people and men in black and a conspiracy on every billboard and television ad. What am I supposed to do?”
Amelia heard the worry in Dan’s voice.
“Do what you always tell me, Dan. Go with your gut.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Amelia chuckled.
They chatted for a few more minutes before Amelia hung up and looked at Lila, who was yawning.
“All right, young lady,” Amelia snapped. “You go home. Get me that ad for an assistant for tomorrow, and we’ll get some help in here.”
“What is the pay?”
“What? We have to pay them?” Amelia joked. “We start off at minimum wage with an increase for good work in three months and bonuses.”
Lila nodded, yawned again, stood from the stool she was perched on, and grabbed her purse.
“I’ll have this for you tomorrow,” she said with her mouth stretched open.
“Bring it by the house around four. I think we both need a sabbatical for one day from the truck.”
Lila nodded and stepped off the truck while waving good-bye. Amelia set to baking a replacement batch for the PB&J cupcakes that had been burnt, and thought about Bud Fetzer.
* * *
The following morning, Amelia was up early and had the pleasure of working closely with her two favorite seasonal assistants, Adam and Meg.
“You don’t ever have to worry about me, Mom,” Meg piped up as she popped plain white paper cups into the muffin tins. “I’m not going to fall for some guy just because he’s cute.”
“He’d have to be blind, too, in order for him to fall for Meg,” Adam teased.
“I did hear Amy was dropped on her head as a baby,” Meg volleyed back. “That explains a lot. She probably only writes with crayons because she can’t be trusted with sharp pens or pencils.”
“All right. That’s enough.” Amelia rolled her eyes as she added an egg to the mixture she was beating.
“Meg’s never going to date, anyway.” Adam said. “That would take too much time away from her gabbing with Katherine over world events like crappy music and crappy movies and the crappy books they read.”
“At least we know how to read and can do it in the daylight without worrying about shriveling up and turning to dust.”
“Okay, you two,” Amelia said. “We are not going to say anything mean about each other the rest of the morning, or else I’m going to have to go all psycho mom. Do you want that?”
“No, ma’am,” both children replied in unison.
“Meg, I just thought we should discuss these things about boys now. Adam, you are no exception. There are people out there who are just looking to make themselves happy with money or whatever. I want you kids to judge people by how they treat you, not how they look or what they can give you.”
“Is that what Jennifer did to Dad?” Adam asked.
The question froze Amelia to her bones.
Hell yes, that’s what that home-wrecker did! She saw a meal ticket and latched on with both talons.
“I think they love each other, Adam.” Amelia wanted to puke. “We just need to be happy for them, and if we can’t be happy, we can be kind. Right?”
“She’s nothing compared to you, Mom,” Meg chirped as she grabbed another baking tin. “She doesn’t even know how to cook.”
“That’s because she’s so young.” Okay, Amelia felt a little good getting in that jab.
“I’m young, and I know how to cook,” Meg bragged.
“You do, angel. But don’t ever cook so good your husband doesn’t take you out for dinner.” Amelia winked.
“Mom, are Dad and Jennifer going to have kids?” Adam seemed to be very interested in the workings of John and Jennifer’s marriage. Amelia took a deep breath.
“Jennifer is young, and it is only natural that she’s going to want to have kids too someday. So I wouldn’t rule it out, but it might be a couple years yet before that happens. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just been so hard growing up with Meg that I just don’t know if I could do it again with a stepbrother or sister.”
Amelia smiled, and Meg rolled her eyes.
“Luckily for you, I have primary custody of you kids, and so the sleepless nights of baby crying will be at a minimum. But look at it this way. If your dad and Jennifer do have a baby, I think you guys could take turns babysitting and make yourselves some cash.”
Their eyes lit up, and they looked at each other.
“What do babysitters charge?” Meg asked.
Amelia arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, nowadays, I don’t think your dad would be able to pay less than fifteen dollars an hour, and that would be for a stranger in their home. People will pay for security. You might get a little more.”
“That’s even more than you pay!” Meg squealed.
“Yeah, well, you won’t get free cupcakes. You’ll get dirty diapers. But I think you’d both make excellent babysitters.”
Sure, it was petty, and John hadn’t even talked about having kids, let alone hitting Adam or Meg up for babysitting duty. But Amelia didn’t feel the least bit guilty for planting the expensive seed of babysitting fees. Especially since her ex-husband was on a crusade to give less and less as his new wife cost him more and more.
“Okay, Mom. These are ready for the batter,” Meg said, setting the cupcake tins in an assembly line.
“Adam, how’s that raspberry glaze coming along?”
“Mom, I could make this in my sleep. In fact, I think I did because you got us up so early.”
“Yeah, Mom. You know Adam needs his
beauty rest. But for it to do any good, he’d need to be in a coma.”
“Meg, don’t talk about your brother being in a coma. That’s morbid.”
“Yeah, Meg,” Adam grumped.
“Adam, don’t antagonize your sister.” Amelia sighed as she spooned the mixture slowly into the cups. “I swear you two are going to make me start drinking.”
“So how much are you getting paid for this job, Mom?” Adam asked.
“This is a good one. Due to the short notice, even though the quantity isn’t huge, I think we’ll get about five hundred dollars.”
Adam and Meg’s eyes lit up again.
“Mom, since I am the oldest, when you die, I get to inherit the business, right?”
“That’s not fair. I work there more than you,” Meg interrupted.
“That’s only because you aren’t in any after-school activities.” Adam cleared his throat.
“Yeah, talking about computers at the Nerds Swap and Spit or whatever it’s called makes you a real socialite.”
“It’s the Programmers Host and Hack. Get it right.”
Amelia couldn’t help laughing at Meg’s jab. It was funny even if it was at her son’s expense.
“I’m not dying anytime soon, so let’s not talk about who gets my stuff. We need to get these cupcakes done, and they need to be perfect. This is a real tough customer. I have to make a good impression.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the kids once again chimed in unison. It was a beautiful morning. What could go wrong?
Chapter Seven
Amelia could never drive through Sarkis Estates and not gasp and sigh at the beautiful homes. Some were just big and made her jaw drop. But others were made to really reflect the owners who lived in them. Not everyone had a giant copper sunflower or a bright-red vintage tractor in their yard. Some people had water fountains. Others had waterfalls that Amelia bet there were koi swimming around in along with a couple dozen copper pennies thrown in for fun.
But the Jameson home was not in the main area of Sarkis Estates. It was just close enough to the border of Brightway that there may have been a significant tax break. Amelia couldn’t be sure. Brightway was an old neighborhood of people who were living out their golden years in ranch-style homes that were paid in full two decades earlier. They were middle class, plain and simple.
