Fruit Baskets and Holiday Caskets

by Gayle Leeson

  “It’s all right,” Scott said. “I’ve got it.”

  “Chris, did Ricky know where Devon was all along?” I asked.

  “He at least suspected.” Chris shrugged. “Ricky has family in Virginia too, so he, Devon, and Uncle Cyrus used to talk about things they’d done around here and Ricky’s hometown. Anyway, Uncle Cyrus told Devon to watch his back because he thought Ricky had sent somebody around to keep an eye on him.”

  I got goosebumps. “Do you know who it was?”

  Chris shook his head. “No idea. I was never in Florida, so I didn’t meet Ricky or any of his crew. And, of course, his family wasn’t from this part of Virginia. They were from Roanoke or somewhere up north.”

  My goosebumps got goosebumps. Devon was killed because Belinda made him appear suspicious to his former partner. They thought he’d become a witness in the smuggling case.

  I went into the kitchen where Jackie was solemnly chopping carrots. Putting my hand on her forearm, I said, “What happened to Devon was in no way your fault.”

  “I know.” The tears glittering on her lashes contradicted her words.

  “Belinda was a fool to not realize how much Devon loved her and to think he’d cheat on her. Even his business partner knew that was so inconceivable that it made more sense to believe he’d become a federal witness before he’d cheat on his wife.”

  “But what does everyone else think?” she asked.

  “Chris—and everyone else, I imagine—thinks Belinda’s rash behavior led to her husband’s death. You were doing a sweet thing for a friend. Anyone who knows you would never think you’d break Roger’s heart or destroy another person’s home.” I moved over to the grill. “I’m going to make Walter, Dilly, and Chris their breakfast. Then would you mind taking over for just a couple of minutes?”

  “No problem.”

  A few minutes later, I put the three orders onto the window ledge for Scott to pick up, and I stepped outside with my smartphone. I logged onto social media and searched for Richard D’Angelo. Nothing matched the criteria of the man who’d served as Devon’s partner. Rick D’Angelo was also a bust, but I hit pay dirt with Ricky D’Angelo. Not only did the man fit the description, he had Devon Murphy in his friends list.

  Bingo.

  Searching through Ricky D’Angelo’s photos, I found a snapshot of Ricky and another man at the beach. The man looked familiar. I mentally removed his beard and made his face fuller. The profile tagged in the photo was that of Neal D’Angelo.

  Jackie poked her head out the door. “Sorry, but I need your help. A church group just arrived.”

  MOM, AUNT BESS, AND Clark arrived at around ten o’clock. Mom and Clark wore their Down South Café shirts, jeans, and jackets. Aunt Bess wore a red pantsuit with sequins on the lapels and had a little Santa hat perched on her head.

  Homer wasn’t far behind. Like Mom and Clark, he wore a Down South Café shirt and jeans.

  “Good morning, Homer. Would you like me to go ahead and get your sausage biscuit ready?”

  He glanced at the clock. “We have to be lined up for the parade at ten-thirty, right?”

  “Right.” That was the time he usually had his biscuit.

  “We can get there in ten minutes,” he said, “so I’ll have my biscuit at 10:15 please. I’m flexible, but let’s not go too crazy.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing and headed for the kitchen.

  “Who’s your hero today, Guru Guy?” Scott asked.

  “Keanu Reeves, who once said that the simple act of paying attention can take you a long way.”

  I’d just delivered Homer’s sausage biscuit when Ryan and his parents got to the café. I wanted to tell Ryan what I’d learned on social media, but I didn’t really have time. Besides, I didn’t want to spoil the fun he was having with his parents. Michelle was delighted with the cookies she’d made and proudly gave one to her husband and her son.

  “Amy, your car looks super,” Ryan’s dad, David, said.

  “Thank you. I—” I was interrupted by Ryan giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Gotta run,” he said. “I’m helping with traffic, crowd control, all that good stuff. I’ll see you all after the parade, though.”

  “We should go get in line,” Aunt Bess said. “We want a prominent spot.”

  Roger stepped into the café then. “Hey, Flowerpot, I checked the luggage rack to make sure it’s good and sturdy.”

  Aunt Bess gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, dear, but we have to roll.”

  Jackie hurried over and kissed Aunt Bess’s cheek. “We’ll be watching for you when the parade comes by here.”

  “Scott, Homer, would you like to ride with Jenna and me?” Clark asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Scott grabbed two baskets of cookies to put in Clark’s SUV.

  Homer scrambled to finish his coffee and wipe his mouth on his napkin. “Oh, wait, I have to pay.”

  “It’s on me this morning, Homer,” I said. “It’s my thank-you for helping hand out cookies.”

  “I don’t need a thank you for that! I’m—”

  “Well, you’ll take it,” Aunt Bess said. “I’m not going to be late to my parade.”

  We went outside and got into the car. Aunt Bess waved goodbye to everyone as if she was the homecoming queen. My parade indeed.

  “See you along the parade route!” Michelle called.

  As we slowly drove to the gathering spot, Aunt Bess practiced her wave.

  “I’ve got the passenger side whipped,” she said, “but I need a better wave for the people on the other side of the road.”

  “I’ll be waving too, you know.”

  She frowned slightly. “You need to concentrate on driving and not running anyone over. That sweet little Scott will be walking right beside our car.”

  “So will my mother,” I reminded her.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  When we got to the meeting place, a woman in a puffy coat with a clipboard told us we were between the Winter Garden High School marching band and an ambulance.

  I looked over at Aunt Bess. “Well, that’s good news. If I’m waving at onlookers and accidentally hit Scott or Mom, help will be right behind us.”

  She was not amused.

  At last, we started down Main Street. Admittedly, it was really cool to see all the people lining the street. Many of them were pointing at the cake and were happily accepting cookies from either Scott, Homer, Mom, or Clark. Our four volunteers seemed to be having a blast. Not as much as Aunt Bess, but then I doubted anyone was.

  Could Aunt Bess’s day get better, you ask? You wouldn’t think so. But then it did.

  As the parade turned off Main Street to go into a different part of town, I spotted Bryson Neal shoving Adam Tate into the back of a car. It looked as if Adam’s hands were tied behind his back.

  “Did you see that?” I asked Aunt Bess.

  “That handsome fellow blowing me a kiss? Yessiree, Bob, I saw that!”

  “No! Bryson Neal just pushed Adam Tate into a car!” I tried to control my breathing, so I didn’t hyperventilate. “Aunt Bess, I believe that man killed Devon, and Adam might be next.”

  She went from catering to her adoring public to crime solver in two seconds flat. “How are we going to handle this?”

  “He’s turning onto Cyprus to take the shortcut back to the highway.” I fumbled for my phone and handed it to her. “Pull up my contacts and call Ryan. We can’t let Bryson get away.”

  When we got to Cyprus, I had a tough decision to make. Instead of going straight with the parade, we slowly turned and followed Bryson’s car. The ambulance turned too.

  Oops.

  “Put Ryan on speaker when he answers please,” I said.

  She did so, and Ryan’s voice filled the car.

  “Hey, sweetheart, is everything all right?”

  “No, it’s not,” Aunt Bess said. “Amy and I are in hot pursuit of a black sedan, license plate—I don’t know because I can’t see it.
”

  “Is this a joke?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “We’re unarmed, and we need backup.”

  “Ryan, I think Bryson Neal is actually Bryson Neal D’Angelo and that he’s related to Devon’s partner,” I said.

  “We know. Belinda told us. She’s terrified of the man.” He blew out a breath. “Can you give me your exact location?”

  “We’re on Cyprus Road,” I said.

  “Where exactly?” he asked.

  “We’re in a yellow Bug with an enormous cake on the roof,” Aunt Bess said. “We shouldn’t be too hard to find!”

  Bryson stopped at a railroad crossing.

  “Oh, no.” I groaned. “The train is coming. He knows we’re behind him.”

  “Once again, we’re hard to miss,” Aunt Bess said.

  Bryson got out of his car. He had a gun down by his side.

  While I was screaming the play-by-play to Ryan, Aunt Bess was shouting, “Duck and floor it!”

  I didn’t duck, but I did reflexively hit the gas pedal. The car lurched forward. Slamming on the brakes to keep from hitting Bryson, I watched as my coffee cup top tier of the cake crashed down onto the man.

  Bryson deflected the cake, but it provided the distraction Adam needed to get out of the back of the car and send Bryson sprawling. He hadn’t knocked the gun from Bryson’s hand though.

  I slammed the gearshift into park and jumped out of the car just as Aunt Bess opened her door. “Don’t you dare!” I ran forward and stepped onto Bryson’s wrist to keep him from raising the gun.

  “I’ll kill you all! I swear I will!” he shouted.

  Aunt Bess got out of the car and started snapping photos with her phone. “Live action shots for my Crime Scenes board! It doesn’t get much better than this!”

  As I stood there on Bryson’s arm, I looked around and saw that not only was the train coming, but the ambulance had followed us...and so had the hardware store float...and the firetruck with Santa. Aunt Bess was right—it didn’t get much better than that.

  { }

  Epilogue

  J

  ackie called me early Sunday morning. I’d been so tired that I’d gone back to bed after feeding Rory and Princess Eloise an hour earlier.

  “What’s going on?” I asked groggily, hoping she hadn’t had a relapse of her illness.

  “I’m at the café,” she said. “I need you to come over here.”

  Immediately awake, I sat up in bed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I—”

  The phone went completely silent. Had Jackie muted the call, or had we been disconnected?

  “Hello?” I asked. “Jackie, are you there?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry. There’s just something here you need to see.”

  I quickly got up and got dressed. Hurrying to the café, I saw that the parking lot was filled with familiar vehicles. I whipped my cosmetics case out of my purse and made myself presentable before going into the building.

  Taking a deep breath, I got out of the Bug—now without the cake topper, which had been removed by Roger and Ryan yesterday evening—and walked toward the door.

  Unable to stand it, Jackie opened the door and shouted, “Surprise!”

  “Why? What’s the occasion?”

  She laughed. “You’re a celebrity.” Tugging my arm, she pulled me into the café where I was greeted with cheers and applause.

  “Aw, come on,” I said. “This is totally unnecessary.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Jackie nodded toward Scott. “Our favorite wild child and I prepared a brunch buffet, so you don’t have to do any work today. Simply relax and enjoy being with friends and family.”

  In addition to her and Scott, Roger, Ryan, Aunt Bess, Mom, Clark, Homer, Dilly, Walter, Michelle and David Hall, Ivy and a man I guessed to be Ivy’s husband were gathered in the dining room.

  “Look!” Aunt Bess pointed to framed photographs of newspaper articles showcasing the Bug in yesterday’s parade adorning several of the tables. “I’m featured prominently in most of the pictures, but don’t let that take away from your part in our heroic actions.”

  I laughed.

  Mom came over and gave me a hug. “I was proud of you for simply creating the float but seeing the headline Local Café’s Giant Cake Float Helps Thwart Killer absolutely made my year.”

  “Thanks.” I checked out each of the articles, not realizing how much press had been generated by the parade’s part in capturing Brandon Neal.

  Scott’s sister Ivy sidled next to me. Her auburn hair was pulled into a French braid, and she wore a denim shirtdress. “You—and everyone else here in this dining room—have meant the world to Scott. I appreciate everything you’re doing for him.”

  “I’m grateful for everything he does for us,” I said. “He’s going to be—” I gulped.

  She smiled. “He told me he let it slip. And, yes, he’s going to be a wonderful uncle.” She motioned someone over. “Amy, I’d like you to meet my husband, Matt.”

  Matt was tall with an athletic build and a military bearing. I knew he was in the armed services, but I hadn’t realized he was home on leave.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I told him. “Ivy and Scott are the best. You’re blessed to have them in your family.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you too, Amy.”

  We chatted for a few minutes, and then Ryan joined me.

  “Do you have any idea how busy you’re going to be tomorrow?” he asked. “The café is famous now.”

  I scoffed. “Hardly.”

  “Don’t be such a skeptic.” He spread his hands. “You helped capture a murderer, allowed Belinda to be bold enough to testify in a federal smuggling operation, and showed off your cake decorating prowess. That’s impressive stuff.”

  “How did Belinda not know Sheila was dating Richard D’Angelo?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “She thinks Sheila probably didn’t tell her because D’Angelo was threatening Devon.”

  Homer walked by with a sausage biscuit on a plate.

  “Homer, who’s your hero today?” I asked him.

  “You are.” He smiled. “You’re all of Winter Garden’s hero today.”

  { }

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you so very much to Rosemary Galpin, Master Sugar Artist at Texas Home Baker in Luling, Texas. When I asked Rosemary if it would be possible to make and anchor a large dummy cake onto the top of a Volkswagen Beetle, she went above and beyond in providing instructions. She started with the cake board Amy would need and walked me through the process step-by-step. If you want to see some gorgeous creations, please look for Rosemary on Facebook and Twitter—or Google her to see her award-winning creations featured in the media.

  Recipes from the Down South Café

  Easiest Candy Ever

  Ingredients

  1 can sweetened condensed milk

  1 12-oz. pkg. of chocolate chips (semi-sweet or milk – your preference)

  1 12-oz. pkg. of peanut butter chips (you can also substitute mint chips)

  In a saucepan, combine your milk and chocolate chips. Stir until chips are melted. Remove the saucepan from heat and stir in the peanut butter chips. Pour into an 8 x 8-inch baking pan lined with aluminum foil. Put the pan into the refrigerator. After the candy has set (about an hour or two), take the candy out of the pan and peel the foil from the back. Cut into squares.

  Yield: 64 1-inch pieces

  Tiramisu Bundt Cake

  Ingredients

  1 (18-oz.) box white cake mix

  1 pint coffee ice cream, melted

  3 eggs

  1 12-oz. container of whipped vanilla frosting

  1 teaspoon instant coffee granules dissolved in 1 tablespoon water

  Cinnamon sugar for dusting (optional)

  Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C, Gas Mark 4). Coat a 10-cup Bundt pan with non-stick cooking spray. In large bowl, beat the cake mix, melted ice cream, and eg
gs on low speed for one minute. Beat for 2 minutes on medium speed. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a wooden pick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Cool in the pan on a wire rack for 20 minutes. Invert the pan onto wire rack to cool completely. In large bowl, beat together the frosting and instant coffee mixture. Spread the frosting onto the cake in an even layer. Dust with cinnamon sugar, if desired. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

  Yield: 8-10 servings

  *IF YOU LIKE THESE RECIPES, they and several others are in Tea For You, a complimentary e-book of recipes based on the Victoria Square Mysteries and the Life On Victoria Square companion series which I co-write with Lorraine Bartlett. To download the e-book, visit me at http://www.gayleleeson.com and click the Victoria Square Series tab.

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  Also by Gayle Leeson

  Down South Café Mystery Series

  The Calamity Café

  Silence of the Jams

  Honey-Baked Homicide

  Apples and Alibis

  Ghostly Fashionista Mystery Series

  Designs on Murder

  Perils and Lace

  Kinsey Falls Chick-Lit Series

  Hightail It to Kinsey Falls

  Putting Down Roots in Kinsey Falls

  Sleighing It in Kinsey Falls

  Victoria Square Series (With Lorraine Bartlett)

  Yule Be Dead

  Murder Ink

  Murderous Misconception

  Embroidery Mystery Series (Written as Amanda Lee)

  The Quick and The Thread

  Stitch Me Deadly

  Thread Reckoning

  The Long Stitch Goodnight

  Thread on Arrival

  Cross-Stitch Before Dying

  Thread End

  Wicked Stitch

  The Stitching Hour

  Better Off Thread

  Cake Decorating Mystery Series (Written as Gayle Trent)

  Murder Takes the Cake

  Dead Pan

  Killer Sweet Tooth

  Battered to Death