A Perilous Cake Pop

by Fiona Grace

  “Murdered,” Piper added in a gossipy tone. “And left in our dumpster.”

  Teddy gasped. He looked astonished.

  “Told you I’d been busy,” Ali said, sheepishly.

  Teddy opened and closed his mouth, clearly too stunned to speak. Which was a lot coming from Teddy. It was usually impossible to get him to shut up.

  “Someone was murdered?” he finally cried. “Why? By whom?”

  “It was the new property developer guy,” Piper explained. “You know, the Texan. He didn’t like the negative reviews. What a weirdo. Giving Southerners a bad name.” She shook her head disdainfully and headed off to the kitchen with the coffees.

  Ali looked back at Teddy. He looked floored. He whistled between his teeth.

  “That’s… wow. That’s a lot.” He sipped his coffee again. “Okay but dead guy aside what’s the deal with Nate and Seth?”

  Ali rolled her eyes. Trust her brother to be more interested in the state of her love life than the actual murder of a man and the case she’d solved!

  “There is no deal,” she told him, sternly. “They both wanted to date me, and I told them both no for now.”

  “Why?” Teddy queried.

  “Because of the aforementioned dead guy, obviously,” Ali explained.

  “Sure, but that’s been solved now,” Teddy said, simply. “So what’s stopping you from getting back to dating?”

  It was a good point. Now the case was resolved, perhaps Ali could start dating afresh, and on a more honest footing.

  “The thing is, Teddy,” Ali said. “I like them both.”

  Teddy chuckled. “Of course you do. They’re both drop-dead gorgeous. What’s the problem? Just date them both.”

  “That’s what I said!” came Piper’s voice from the kitchen.

  “And me!” Delaney added.

  Ali tensed. Everyone was putting their two cents into the fray today.

  “I can’t do that,” she said. “It makes me too uncomfortable. Maybe I’m more of a prude than you three. The other day on the beach they passed one another and I totally freaked out. It panicked me. This whole double dating thing just isn’t for me.”

  “Then you’ll have to choose,” Teddy said.

  “I don’t know how,” Ali said, truly torn. “I like them both.”

  How could she decide between the gorgeous, suave Seth, and the stunning, adventurous Nate?

  “You’re overthinking it,” Teddy said, with a simple shrug of the shoulder as if it was all so easy. “Stop using your head and start using your heart. Trust your gut. Your instincts. The next time one of them asks for a date, pay attention to how your body feels. If it says yes, then say yes.”

  “So first come first served?” Ali said wryly.

  “Beats sitting around agonizing,” Teddy replied.

  He was right about that, Ali had to admit.

  Just then the bell over the door went, and a gray-haired lady in a flowery dress poked her head inside. “Are you open again?” she asked.

  Ali glanced at the clock. “Not for another hour and a half,” she replied.

  “Right you are,” the woman said. “If I can wait for days for my favorite bakery to open, then I can wait an hour or two more.”

  She headed off into the sunshine, and Ali felt a swirl of pride in her chest. Nate, Seth, dating, none of that was a priority. What mattered now was kick-starting the bakery again.

  “ALI!” Delaney cried from the kitchen. “Hurry up or you’ll miss sun salutation!”

  Ali smiled and looked at Teddy. “You coming?”

  “Hard pass,” Teddy replied. He downed the rest of his coffee, pecked her on the cheek, and headed for the door. “I’m sure your first day back will go without a hitch!” he called as he went, before stopping at the door and calling back, “As long as there are no more dead bodies in the dumpster, of course!”

  Ali smiled to herself at her brother’s dark joke and watched him disappear. She had a very good feeling about the day and was excited to throw herself back into things. If it all went as well as she hoped, she’d be ending the day exhausted and flopped on her couch, with the memories of the murder fading into the past.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  Ali reached her apartment door at the end of the night and paused on her mat as she fished her key from her purse.

  Her first day back at the bakery had, indeed, gone without any hitches whatsoever. No more bodies in the dumpsters. No more agonizing over the investigation or needing to clear her name. The news of Sullivan’s arrest had filtered quickly through town and everyone had accepted it. And though Ali’s first day back had felt longer and more grueling than usual, and she certainly felt more fatigued than usual by closing time, there were no dramas. That was all that mattered. Everything was back to normal, just as she’d hoped.

  She unlocked her door and was about to head inside when she heard a bark. She looked over to see Scruff trotting towards her.

  “Did you want to come in?” she asked him.

  He barked again, and Ali pushed the door wider. He trotted inside and jumped on the couch.

  “Alright then,” Ali said, smiling to herself.

  She headed inside and changed into her comfiest pajamas. After everything that had happened, she really wanted a lazy, mindless evening in front of the TV. It was just what she needed.

  She made some popcorn and sat down beside Scruff. But straight away, she felt something digging into her lower back.

  “Ow! What is that?” she muttered.

  She reached behind her and felt the spiral bound wire of the notebook she’d been writing her theories and suspect list in. She dug it out from where it was wedged between the couch cushions and looked at her musings.

  There was Ophelia’s name crossed out, and Timothy Clarke’s. There was her long list of theories about disgruntled vendors or an enemy following Arlo from Chicago. It hadn’t occurred to her back then that the killer would be someone with so much clout. She hadn’t even guessed at Sullivan as the suspect.

  But as she looked over her list, she realized she still didn’t feel quite right about it, even with him arrested and in custody. Something was bothering her about Sullivan as the culprit. He’d not made the list in the first place—despite having a solid motive for wanting Arlo dead—for one very important reason. If he was trying to protect the reputation of the boardwalk, then why dump the body there? Why not take it some place out of the way? Why risk it? It didn’t really make sense to Ali that he’d leave Arlo’s dead body in the very place whose reputation he was trying to protect…

  But before she had a chance to think about it any further, Ali heard a knock at the door.

  Scruff quirked his head up and whinnied.

  “Who could that be?” Ali wondered aloud.

  She unfolded her legs from beneath her and put the popcorn on the coffee table. Then she went over to the door and up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole. She saw a flash of dark brown hair and her heart immediately began to race. It was Seth.

  With trembling, excited fingers, Ali quickly unlatched the door and pulled it open.

  “Seth?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

  He looked gorgeous in the moonlight, his dark eyes and chiseled chin only accentuated by the shadows. Then he grinned his wide smile and Ali practically went weak at the knees.

  “I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Seth said as he eyed her pajamas.

  Ali peered down at them and felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “Not at all. I’m just having a cozy night in with Scruff and some popcorn.”

  Seth peered over her shoulder at the dog curled up on the couch. “Have you adopted him?”

  Ali shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re just...I guess you could say we’re taking things slowly.” She smirked at her own joke.

  Seth let out a low, knowing chuckle. “Funny.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking more coy than Ali was used to seeing him. “So, I heard the cas
e got solved,” he said. “You’re a free woman again.”

  “Yup,” Ali said, with a nod. “I opened the bakery again today. I thought people might still be wary, but it was back to business as usual.”

  “That’s great,” Seth replied. “I’m really happy for you.”

  He paused, and Ali studied him. “Was there anything else?”

  He scratched his neck awkwardly. “Did you want to go out for dinner to celebrate?” he blurted. “Nothing crazy or fancy, I know you’re not ready to date, but just to catch up.”

  “Now?” Ali replied, looking down at her pajamas.

  “Unless your plans with Scruff are more important...” Seth said with a chuckle. “Which I’d fully understand of course.”

  Ali faltered as she mulled it over. The case was solved. Her business was back. The feud with Teddy was over. If there was any time to celebrate, it would surely be now.

  And as she deliberated, Ali remembered Teddy’s words from before. To stop thinking and pay attention to how she felt. Right now, she felt butterflies in her stomach and a magnetic pull in her veins. If you feel like saying yes, say yes. Ali had to admit it. She really felt like saying yes.

  So before she had a chance to change her mind, she blurted, “Yes! Okay. I’ll just slip into something less comfortable!”

  She left Seth at the door and skipped back to her room to change, her heart galloping with excitement.

  *

  Ali tugged down at the hem of her skirt and wobbled on her heels. She was used to wearing flats and jeans, and she always felt a little uncomfortable dressed up. She was also feeling rather hot under the collar to be standing beside the gorgeous Seth, as they waited at the podium to be seated.

  True to his word, the restaurant he’d taken her to was not fancy. It was just a little place tucked away behind a larger store on the boardwalk, a place one could easily walk right past without noticing. There wasn’t even a sign above the door. Had Seth not led her here, she may well have continued to overlook it.

  “This is a cute little place,” she said, looking around at the nautical themed decor.

  It was a bit hokey and dated for her taste, but it had its own cute kind of charm, and by the looks of all the diners inside, it certainly offered something of worth. It had a buzzing kind of ambiance and was clearly a good spot to go to for an easy, fun time. In fact, it was a really good place for a date because it had a very relaxed vibe. Ali felt herself relaxing.

  “Table for two?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes please,” Seth said.

  They followed the woman, wending their way through the buzzing tables to an intimate looking spot in the corner. A big fish tank was positioned behind it, beaming a bright light onto the table. Ali felt a bit like she was in the spotlight as she took her seat.

  The waitress passed her a menu. “We have a special romance deal on tonight,” she said. “A bottle of pink champagne for half price with any seafood platter.”

  “Oh, this isn't a date,” Seth informed her, lowering himself into the seat opposite.

  But as Ali glanced across the table at him, she felt her stomach flutter. She decided to pay attention to it for once. “Actually, the romance deal sounds perfect to me,” she said. “I’d love some pink champagne and a seafood platter, if you would too.”

  She glanced up at Seth. He looked surprised, but not in a bad way.

  “Romance deal, it is,” he said with a flirty glint in his eyes.

  “Coming right up,” the waitress said, passing him a menu too. “We have seafood platters for two available. I’ll be right back with your champagne, and you can let me know which you want.”

  She smiled pleasantly and walked away.

  Ali looked down at the menu, with the words The Cove embossed on the front in gold letters.

  “The Cove?” Ali said, reading it aloud. “Where have I heard that name before?” She searched through her mind, and suddenly remembered. “This was the place Arlo wrote his other review of!”

  Seth’s eyes widened. “The mean that horrible weasel who ruined our last date? Let me guess, it was another horrible, scathing one?”

  “Actually no,” Ali replied, shaking her head as she cast her mind back to her research from before. “I read it and it was actually complimentary. I wonder if that’s why it’s so busy in here?” she wondered aloud. She didn’t recall the article having much in the way of comments or views. In fact, she’d theorized at the time that the article’s nice, bland tone had been the reason why Arlo had switched to such a scathing tone with his review of Seaside Sweets.

  “Arlo wrote a complimentary review?” Seth asked. “That’s ironic, considering how thoroughly miserable the owner looks.”

  “Oh?” Ali asked.

  Seth pointed out a man at the bar, sitting with his head slumped in his hands and a half-drunk beer in front of him. He looked disheveled and unhappy, his tie hanging askew to reveal only half of his shirt buttons were actually done up.

  “Yikes,” Ali said. “He looks awful.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder why the owner looked so terrible considering his restaurant was clearly doing so well. If it was anything to do with the review and Arlo, then she certainly had far more reason to look miserable than he did—Arlo had put her through the ringer and made her the prime suspect in his murder! Her curiosity got the better of her, as it always did, and she scanned him all over, before honing in on a clue.

  There was a pale band of skin on his left ring finger, which was a starkly different color to the rest of his tanned skin.

  “I think there might be another reason for his misery,” Ali told Seth. “I think he’s getting divorced.” She pointed at her own ring finger to illustrate the point. “He has a tan line here. Looks like he only just took his ring off.”

  Seth raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you really are good at that detective stuff!” he said. “That’s a pretty keen eye you have.”

  “Why thank you,” Ali replied. “I guess I have a natural talent for putting together different bits of information, you know? Names. Places…”

  But her voice trailed away as a thought suddenly hit her. Names. Places. She suddenly realized where she’d heard the name The Cove before. Not just from Arlo’s review but from…Nate!

  This was the spot she’d agreed to meet with him. Tonight. At nine thirty.

  With a sudden surge of panic in her chest, Ali glanced behind her at the clock, and discovered to her horror, that it had just hit nine thirty.

  Ali turned back to face Seth and, in a sudden moment of shock, discovered it was already too late.

  There, standing in the doorway, staring at her with his mouth agape in horror, was Nate.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  “Ali?” Nate exclaimed, staring down at her. “What are you doing here?”

  Ali shuffled awkwardly in her seat, feeling extremely on display under the light of the fish tank, and in her dress and heels.

  From Nate’s face, Ali could tell he was clearly hurt, and she felt awful. He had every right to be. She’d agreed to meet him here, only to completely forget in all the drama of the investigation. Then she’d taken Teddy’s stupid advice and followed her heart instead of her head! She realized now there was a reason she always thought things through before she did them — to avoid terrible situations like this.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Ali began, but before she had the chance to fully explain, the waitress from before returned holding a silver platter.

  “Your romance special champagne,” she said, placing the platter on the table between Ali and Seth. Upon it was an ice bucket with the champagne bottle and two red roses. “Did you decide which of the seafood sharing platters for two you’d like?”

  Ali felt every muscle in her body clench. Her toes curled. She cringed all the way down to the bone.

  In the uncomfortable, stunned silence that followed, the waitress hesitated. She looked from Ali and Seth sitting on either side of the champagn
e bucket to Nate, standing in flabbergasted horror beside them. Clearly picking up on the vibes, she started backing away. “I’ll give you another minute,” she said hurriedly. Then she scurried off into the darkness.

  In her chair, Ali felt her shoulders slump. This was a disaster. This was awful. This was everything she’d hoped wouldn’t happen—the two men she adored being harmed by her indecisiveness, by her heart’s failure to choose between them. She knew it was her responsibility to right the wrong she’d caused, but how? She’d always known dating them both would end badly, and bruise the hearts of everyone involved, and here was the proof of it; the matching looks of mortification and humiliation on both Nate and Seth’s faces. Ali felt as if her stomach had sunk all the way to her toes, knowing instinctively that the hurt looks on the faces of the two men — looks she’d caused — would make a mark on her mind forever more.

  Ali felt awful for having hurt them both with her actions and felt a desperate need to put things right in any way she could, to somehow take back the harm she’d caused. She glanced pleadingly from one man to the next. “Let me explain.”

  “Yes,” Seth prompted in a cold, sad voice. “Please explain. I’d love to know who this man is.”

  “This is Nate,” Ali said. “He owns the surf shop on the boardwalk. We’re friends—”

  “--friends?” Seth interjected with disbelief, at the very same time that Nate said, “Friends? That’s all we are to you?” in a tone of utter anguish.

  Ali felt their dual pain right in the center of her chest like a deep, aching throb. She’d caused so much harm, and there was no real way to explain it away.

  “Okay, no, not just friends,” she said to Nate. “Obviously, it’s more complicated than that.”

  “Complicated in what way?” Seth asked in a low murmur. “In a romantic way?”

  “I suppose so,” Ali said, feeling her shoulders begin to slump from the weight of it all.

  “I see,” Seth replied with a sad nod. He stood abruptly, his chair squeaking back against the tiles.

  The noise reverberated around them, and other diners were starting to look now. Ali felt increasingly flustered and scrutinized. To anyone watching the scene unfold, it would look like a two-timing situation, and Ali felt silently judged, because the real situation was slightly more nuanced, at least in her mind. And maybe, Ali realized now, that was the problem. However she tried to explain her actions, they only made sense to her in her mind. To all involved, to all watching, a very different scenario was taking place, a far more black and white one. She’d strung two men along romantically, keeping their existence from one another. She’d lied by omission.