Sweet as Pie Crimes Page 15

My phone chirped from inside my purse as I mechanically walked over to answer it. Maybe Aunt Marilyn had some news about her meeting with Andy. I hadn’t heard from her since she walked out of the shop earlier in the afternoon.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Cupcakes by the Sea?” A man’s voice asked, sounding mildly surprised.

  “Oh yes!” I said quickly, remembering that my cell phone was also my business phone now. “Good evening. How may I help you?”

  “This is Lane. I was in your shop earlier today. You know, about the princess birthday party.”

  I grinned, instantly giddy at the sound of his voice. Then, recalling Aunt Marilyn’s debacle with the ringless Marvin, I tempered my excitement. Or tried to. With his naturally tanned skin and luminous smile, he was sexier than any man I could ever recall meeting in Minnesota.

  “Right! Did you have a chance to look at the website?”

  “I sure did. Your credentials are very impressive, Danica.”

  “Impressive?” I echoed doubtfully, not sure what credentials he was referring to.

  “Oh I get it. You’re a modest girl. Well that’s very sweet…and rare these days. But it says on your website that you graduated at the top of your culinary class, so you should be pretty proud of that,” Lane said as I breathed a silent sigh of relief that he couldn’t see me blush through the phone.

  “Well, I’ve always loved to bake. Ever since I was about your daughter’s age actually.”

  “And I’d like to book that party for her, so would it be okay if I swung by your shop now? I just live a couple of blocks away, so I could be there in 10 minutes.”

  Forgetting my plans to go back to Aunt Marilyn’s house, flop on my bed and bury my face in a pillow, I told him yes. Jittery, I hung up the phone and grabbed my compact mirror from my purse. I never wore any foundation or eye makeup, but I could always use a fresh sweep of mauve color across my lips. Dabbing the gloss to my mouth, I clicked the compact shut and untied the strings of my apron. Lane didn’t need to see me covered in flour and frosting.

  True to his word, Lane was at my shop within 10 minutes. Holding his hand was an adorable little girl with long honey hair and a casual outfit of denim overalls. I looked at her clothes quizzically, wondering if Lane really was raising her on his own. No woman would dress her daughter in farmer’s overalls, and it was immediately obvious to me why the child would want to wear a princess costume.

  “Well hello there,” I greeted sweetly, gazing down at the wide-eyed girl. “Is this the princess I’ve heard so much about?”

  Mackenzie bowed her head shyly as her father replied, “This is the princess, alright.” Just as he had done earlier, Lane removed his baseball cap and charmed me with another knee-weakening smile.

  “I guess you’re a big fan of the Padres,” I surmised, pointing to the cap.

  Lane chuckled and replied, “Well I better be, considering I play first base for them.”

  “You’re a professional baseball player?” I marveled, completely impressed and even more attracted to him. Not much of a sports fan, I had nonetheless always had a special place in my heart for baseball. “I love baseball. My father always wanted to be a baseball player,” I revealed, not realizing what I was saying. My expression darkened as I thought of the beloved man who had played in a community league for his entire adult life until succumbing to a stroke two years ago. His absence in Minneapolis was just one other reason that had made me want to move away. Far away.

  “That’s all I ever wanted to be too. I guess a lot of boys dream about it,” Lane mused as I nodded fervently, glad that he hadn’t asked me to elaborate about my father. Talking about him still brought tears to my eyes.

  “Definitely,” I agreed. “So did you decide on a menu for the party?”

  Lane gazed adoringly at his daughter and gestured for her to pipe up. Coyly, she said, “I want your special Cherry Cheesecake cupcakes. And the make-your-own-cupcake workshop.”

  “Please,” Lane emphasized, nudging the girl to utter the courtesy.

  “PLEASE!” She exclaimed whole-heartedly as I laughed at her innocent lack of self-consciousness. Why couldn’t girls stay so sure of themselves and not let the world break them down?

  “Well that sounds like a perfect choice, young lady!” I said warmly before turning back to Lane. “How many children will be attending?”

  We took a seat at one of my round birch wood dining tables and sketched out the remaining details for the party. Mackenzie poked around the shop curiously, staring at the framed pastry artwork on the walls and smacking her lips.

  “I think you’ve got a hungry girl on your hands,” I laughed. “Why don’t I go to the kitchen and get her a cupcake from the refrigerator? We have plenty of leftovers from today.”

  “Oh yes Daddy please! PLEASE!” Mackenzie squealed, dashing over to Lane and softening him with googly eyes.

  “You did eat all your broccoli at dinner. So the answer is yes. One cupcake.”

  “Would you like chocolate or vanilla?” I asked.

  “Chocolate! Please!” She replied automatically as Lane and I traded amused looks.

  “Coming right up,” I promised, rubbing my hands together.

  As I left the storefront, I felt a draft gust through the shop. Arriving in the kitchen, I was astonished to see the back door wide open. I gasped, tip-toeing across the room and holding my breath. Who had opened the door, and were they still there?

  Outside the door, I could swear I heard footsteps retreating. Tight as a wooden doll, I crept outside, narrowing my eyes in the dark trying to make out any human form. All I could see was the trash bin a few hundred feet away and the lively steakhouse across the street with its neon sign flashing. Not a soul was around. But I had definitely heard footsteps. I gulped in fear, wondering if I had been foolish to dismiss the idea of ghosts. My fear turned into panic as I felt a cold hand close over my shoulder in a death-grip.

  Chapter 3

  “You look like you just saw a ghost!” I heard a voice accuse laughingly as my eyes darted up and focused on the feminine silhouette in the darkness.

  “Aunt Marilyn! Are you the one who opened the back door?” I asked as some of the natural pink color flooded my cheeks and my pulse slowed almost to normal.

  “Yes, and I didn’t mean to frighten you! Why are you so jumpy? Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about that idiotic woman, Betty.” Aunt Marilyn shuddered distastefully.

  “What are you doing back here? And why didn’t you get in touch earlier?” I asked, evading her comment about Betty. Truth was, I was very worried that Betty and her shenanigans would try to make my life and burgeoning business a living hell.

  “I forgot my cell phone in the kitchen,” she explained, walking ahead of me back into the shop.

  “Oh,” I said quietly. Perfectly reasonable explanation. But Betty still wasn’t off the hook in my eyes. That woman had a clear vendetta against my aunt and a murky one against me. “So what happened with Andy? Did you get to meet with him?”

  “Actually no.” Aunt Marilyn frowned pensively. “According to his boss, Larson, he no longer works for the newspaper as of today. But Larson wouldn’t tell me whether Andy quit or was fired. Very strange.”

  “That is very strange. We need to get to the bottom of this. It can’t be a coincidence that he quit or was fired on the same day that my ad didn’t run. Could it?” I asked, suddenly unsure of myself.

  “Of course it could, honey! Now I love you, but that ad was more important to you than to anyone else. The world doesn’t revolve around…”

  I put a hand up to silence my lecturing aunt. “I just moved away from my mother. I don’t need another one! You would think the two of you were sisters rather than sister-in-laws!” I shook my head with a mixture of humor and exasperation.

  She merely smiled and peeked her head out the kitchen door. “Who’s that adorable man sitting out front?” Aunt Marilyn queried, winking at me. “In California just a few mo
nths and already romance is on the horizon?”

  “No, he’s a customer, Aunt Marilyn. He has a 5 year old daughter he’s throwing a birthday party for at the shop.”

  “Oh, so he’s married?” Aunt Marilyn surmised with audible disappointment.

  “I’m not so sure…listen I have to get back to my meeting with him. I’ll see you at home.”

  Never meddlesome past her welcome, Aunt Marilyn winked again and walked towards the back door. But as she was leaving, she called out to me, “If he’s not married, there’s no harm in flirting a little! You’re only young once. And even when you’re not, there’s still no harm!”

  ***

  The next morning, I arrived at Cupcakes by the Sea shortly after dawn. Aunt Marilyn was still fast asleep in her bedroom when I left. Hopefully, she would catch more than 1,000 winks of beauty rest so that I could have some time to myself to get down to business in the shop. Baking was the first order of the day. I methodically set up my equipment and ingredients, anticipating how customers (if there were any!) would react to my flavor of the day: Key Lime Pie.

  Cutting up fresh limes and slicing zest from the rind felt cathartic. Baking always put me in my element and relaxed me even in the midst of chaos. There could be a bulldozer and wrecking ball crashing into the building next door, and I’d still be contentedly stirring my batter and whipping my frosting.

  As I prepared the lime zest garnish, I reached into the cabinet for my glass jar of confectioner’s sugar. Unexpectedly, visions of Lane in a pin-striped baseball uniform floated through my mind. I could only imagine how delicious the man must look in his tight uniform. But after our meeting ended last night, I still had no idea whether he was married or not. All I knew was that he had a daughter whom he adored and an upcoming party at my little shop.

  As I swept a spoon into the confectioner’s sugar, I detected an unusual odor under my nose. Confectioner’s sugar has a light, sweet scent and never really expires. So why did this jar smell so odd? I brought the spoon closer to my nose and then dusted a little powder onto my hands. The consistency was all wrong.

  “This isn’t sugar,” I muttered to the empty kitchen. “This is talcum powder!”

  Shocked, I ran over to the cabinet and unloaded my other powdered ingredients. The baking soda, flour, and salt all appeared normal, but had they been tainted too? And by whom? I paused, trying to figure out what I should do. Should I call the police? Obviously, someone had broken into my shop during the night and swapped my confectioner’s sugar for poisonous talcum powder. But nothing else seemed out of place. The back door was firmly locked…and the front door? In my sleepy state at 6 am, I couldn’t remember if I had unlocked the door or simply waltzed through it.

  “Am I losing my mind?” I wondered aloud, contemplating if I could have accidentally filled the jar with the wrong substance. But I didn’t use talcum powder. Ever. Did Aunt Marilyn use it?

  Grabbing my phone, I dialed her and waited five rings until she picked up with a groggy voice. “Danica? Everything okay?”

  “Do you use talcum powder?” I blurted out, not caring how crazy I sounded.

  “Huh? Talcum powder?” Aunt Marilyn sounded as confused as I felt.

  “Yes. I found a jar full of talcum powder in my cabinet rather than confectioner’s sugar, which should have been there!”

  “But I don’t use talcum powder, sweetie. That’s for babies’ bottoms and women much older than me.” She sounded affronted, but I couldn’t worry about her feelings right now.

  “Well I don’t use it either, which means that someone snuck in here and poured it into the jar! It had to be Betty. Who else would it be, right?” I said, my temper flaring and my voice rising.

  Now fully awake, Aunt Marilyn passionately concurred, “You’re right. I don’t see who else would want to sabotage your brand new business like this! Damn that ugly witch. No wonder her husband cheated on her! Okay, that was catty, I know. But she has no right to play games like this, and she’s not going to get away with it! I just wonder how she got in there. Was there any sign of a break in?”

  “No, not at all,” I said as a thought dawned on me. “But Betty wouldn’t need to break in! As the real estate agent for this property, she has her own set of keys!”

  “Well, honey, that means you’ve got to call a locksmith. Now. And call the police while you’re at it. Or do you want me to do that while you get a locksmith on the phone?” Aunt Marilyn, always hungry for a new project with just the lightest touch of drama, sounded raring to go.

  “No, I don’t think we should call the police yet. They probably wouldn’t take us seriously. Nothing else in the shop has been touched. They’ll probably just tell me that I could have accidentally poured the wrong ingredients into the jar,” I reasoned, hoping that changing the locks to my shop would put an end to this mischief and vengeance seeking.

  “I hear what you’re saying. Okay, honey, I’m going to get up and shower now. I’m meeting with a few clients at the jewelry store this morning. Then I’ll be right over to your shop!”

  As soon as we hung up, I searched the internet for a local locksmith and found more than three dozen to choose from. Randomly pointing my finger at one of the listings, I made the call.

  By the end of the day, all the locks in the shop were brand new and Betty-proof. Sighing, I gathered up several trays of unsold cupcakes and emptied them into the garbage. I tried to eat my unsold inventory as much as I could, but at this lousy sales rate, I would turn into a human cupcake.

  “I just love Key Lime!” Aunt Marilyn raved, her mouth overflowing with cupcake.

  “Glad someone is enjoying them,” I said bitterly, thinking how Lane’s party was the only source of revenue I could count on in the near future. And if he knew about the controversy surrounding my shop, he might withdraw his business and leave me with nothing but shuttered doors and a carb belly.

  “Businesses take time,” Aunt Marilyn reminded me, licking a bit of cream cheese icing off her index finger.

  Before I could reply, a knock at the front door startled me. “Damn it, if that’s Betty!” I burst out, flouncing over to the door.

  In the glass reflection, I was overjoyed to see Lane’s smiling face. In his hands, he held an envelope and waved it at me, grinning. I unlocked the door for him as Mackenzie popped out from behind and gave me a big smile of her own.

  “Hi! We have a surprise for you,” Mackenzie announced proudly, pointing to the envelope in her father’s hands.

  “Since you’re such a baseball fan, I thought you might enjoy these two tickets. The game is Monday night. Padres versus the Chicago White Sox. Seats right behind first base.”

  “That’s awesome! I’ve never been to an actual game.” It was true. Other than for my dad’s community league games, I had never been to a real sports stadium and seen pro ball players in action. The idea of sitting directly behind Lane’s first base position filled me with excitement and made me forget momentarily about my financial worries. “Thank you so much, Lane.”

  “Can I have a cupcake?” Mackenzie asked, tilting her chin up hopefully and looking like a precious little tomboy in her jeans and tee-shirt.

  “If your dad says it’s okay…” I turned to Lane who was smiling his approval. What did those lips do when they weren’t smiling…

  “It’s okay. Asparagus was on the menu tonight, and again she ate every bite. My good angel,” Lane praised, patting his daughter lovingly on the back.

  “There was butter on the ‘paragus, so it wasn’t too bad!” Mackenzie cheered, stumbling endearingly on the word ‘asparagus.’

  “Sounds like you’re quite the chef,” I commented lightly, secretly hoping that it were true and that a pretty wife or girlfriend wasn’t doing all this vegetarian cooking.

  “Well, I have to be. As a single dad, keeping my girl healthy is my most important job. Forget about baseball. Wait, did I just say that?” Lane laughed as I beamed at him, thrilled speechless to learn that he was
single.

  A few moments later, we sat down to a plate of assorted cupcakes and a pot of hot herbal tea. Aunt Marilyn slipped out the back door, not wanting to disturb what she perceived to be a budding love story. And now that I knew Lane was single, I hoped she was right.

  ***

  In the morning, I pulled into the parking lot of my shop, shiny new keys in hand. Deliberately, I turned the key in the lock so I wouldn’t second guess myself later on. Heading to the kitchen, I grabbed a blackboard and wrote the specials of the day with pastel chalk. There would be a Strawberries & Champagne cupcake with real alcohol flavoring for adults only. And a Festive Confetti cupcake loaded with rainbow sprinkles to please the kids. I had to believe that some customers would walk through the door that day. Even though I still hadn’t run an ad successfully, people had to pass by and be curious about my quaint shop. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  Arranging the blackboard on the sidewalk, I hurried back inside to start baking. Ripe strawberries were diced into heart shapes as organic eggs were separated and beaten. I selected a bottle of strawberry extract from the cabinet and poured it into a teaspoon. Like déjà vu, I could smell immediately that something was off about the liquid’s fragrance.

  “Not again. This can’t be happening again.” The extract had a potent fragrance, like cough syrup or some kind of medicine. Like a madwoman, I ran to the cabinet and pulled out every item one by one. The vanilla extract didn’t smell right either. In fact, it smelled even more dangerous than the strawberry extract. Toxic and overpowering. Fingers trembling, I dropped the bottle as it crashed to the floor and shattered.

  Chapter 4

  As I crept across the floor trying to dodge the shards of glass, I slipped on the soup of sticky liquids and landed on my bottom. Layered in cough syrup or whatever the nasty substance was, I immediately jumped to my feet and grabbed for my phone. This time I had no choice but to call the police. They might laugh hysterically at me, but I couldn’t let this second incident go unreported. Just as I was dialing, a knock sounded at the front door.