Sweet as Pie Crimes Read online

  Perplexed, I wondered who would be at my shop so early in the morning. Had Aunt Marilyn forgotten her set of keys? But no, Aunt Marilyn had said she would be spending some time at her own store before coming here. Could it be Lane again with another surprise? With my heart flip-flopping around somewhere in my belly, I hurried out to the storefront.

  A man stood outside my shop, but it certainly wasn’t Lane. Dressed in a navy blue suit and striped tie, the fifty-something man looked like he meant business. I wondered why he would be outside my cupcake shop so early in the morning. Perhaps trying to grab a quick, sugary breakfast before heading to the office?

  Opening the door a crack, I said, “Good morning, sir. We open at noon.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” the man replied with a slight smile. “I’m Mayor Sam O’Donnell.”

  “The mayor of Sea Ridge?” I exclaimed excitedly.

  “Yes indeed. I’ve been making the rounds to all the small businesses in town, trying to welcome the new ones into the community and help the old ones continue to thrive,” Mayor O’Donnell informed as his nose twitched curiously.

  Mortified, I realized that I must smell like a medicine cabinet. Of all the times for the mayor of Sea Ridge to come knocking on my door! “I’m sorry, Mayor. I had a little spillage accident in the kitchen this morning. Should have had my coffee before starting the day.” I made a feeble attempt at a joke, but Mayor O’Donnell was polite enough to laugh.

  “No need to worry. But may I come in?”

  “Of course! Please come in!” I opened the door all the way to welcome the mayor into my shop.

  “Lovely place,” he said kindly. “Have you had your ribbon cutting ceremony yet?”

  “Ribbon cutting ceremony? Gee, I hadn’t even thought of that. I had my grand opening this week, but that kind of fizzled out…” My voice faded away with embarrassment.

  “Every new business needs a ribbon cutting ceremony. And every new business also needs a prominent figure in the community to help it get off the ground. So I’d like to join you for the ceremony if you can arrange a day that fits into my calendar.”

  I couldn’t believe my luck. A ribbon cutting ceremony and the celebrity presence of a local politician were exactly what Cupcakes by the Sea needed to give it a boost! “You just name the day, and I’ll set everything up.”

  “Let’s see. Today is Thursday, so why don’t we say Saturday? My schedule is generally clear of meetings on the weekends, unless there’s some kind of emergency. Plus that will give us a couple of days to get the event into the Sea Ridge Daily News.” Mayor O’Donnell slipped an iPhone out of his pocket and tapped in a few words as I watched gratefully.

  “That sounds perfect…except for the Sea Ridge Daily News. I had a really bad experience with that newspaper.”

  Mayor O’Donnell arched a bushy gray eyebrow. “Did you? What sort of bad experience?”

  “Well, I paid for a full page ad, but they never ran it. Then the salesman who sold me the ad mysteriously doesn’t work there anymore, and I haven’t had time to talk to anyone else at the paper about a refund,” I explained as the mayor listened with apparent sympathy.

  “Just mention my name, and the ad for the ceremony will run front and center. After Saturday, your shop will be swarming with customers.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right! Thank you so much, Mayor. I’ll call the newspaper at 9 am sharp.” I reached out for a handshake as he gently squeezed and smiled amiably.

  “See you Saturday. 10 am,” Mayor O’Donnell said as he gave me a goodbye nod and walked out the door.

  ***

  The police officer entered my shop with a skeptical expression on his hardened features. Glancing around and taking inventory of me in my sticky apparel, his expression softened into one of amusement and mild pity. Standing next to the cash register, he took out a pad of paper and scribbled a few words.

  “So you say someone has been switching ingredients in your shop?” The officer began.

  “Yes, that’s right. The past two days I’ve found that my ingredients have been tampered with,” I informed, setting my shoulders squarely in a stance that said ‘I’m no pushover. I’m dead serious.’

  “But there’s no evidence of a break-in or any other type of forced entry?” He prodded, massaging his jawline thoughtfully.

  I faltered, knowing my story was far-fetched and that the officer would be more likely to believe that a ghost had swapped the ingredients than a real nemesis like Betty. “No, there’s no evidence of a break-in. But I have my suspicions about who did this.”

  “And who are you suspicious of?”

  Slowly, I unraveled the story of how I had recently moved from Minnesota and hired real estate agent Betty to find me a storefront. I conveyed how she had been hesitant to show me this picturesque oceanfront property until I threatened working with another agency if she didn’t give me the tour. “And that’s when she told me that the place was haunted. She also showed up after my grand opening and harassed my aunt and me.” I wanted to leave out the detail about Aunt Marilyn’s affair with Marvin to spare her pride, but I knew it was crucial to the case. “There’s some bad blood between Betty and Marilyn. My aunt Marilyn was, um, involved with Betty’s husband a number of years ago.”

  “Okay, miss. But none of this adds up to a resolution of your case. Everything you’ve just told me is circumstantial. There’s nothing our police department can do for you without forensic proof.”

  Undefeated, I pressed on. “Then at least will you check for fingerprints in the kitchen? I have the bottles and the jars that were tainted. You can examine them and see if you can trace them back to Betty.”

  “Yes, we can do a fingerprint search. But you have to understand that it’s not going to happen right away. Cases like this don’t get priority in Sea Ridge. We have much more serious crimes to worry about in southern California, unfortunately,” the cop explained as I nodded my understanding.

  After taking a few more notes, he left my shop as a new thought occurred to me with a shiver: Betty couldn’t have the new keys to my cupcake shop. No one could except for Aunt Marilyn and me. So either it wasn’t Betty who had snuck into the shop, or she had done so like a caper in the night, perhaps with a credit card or crowbar that left no breakage behind. Or, the extract had been tainted at the same time as the confectioner’s sugar, but I had been too flustered to realize it.

  Questions and theories haunted me for the rest of the day as I connected to a new salesman at the Sea Ridge Daily News who immediately reserved ad space for me when I mentioned Mayor O’Donnell’s name. Aunt Marilyn and I quickly whipped up a strategy for the ribbon cutting ceremony. She would invite everyone in her social circle and pass out flyers to the community. Her pretty face and vivacious personality were certain to get us some customers, if only male customers.

  “This event is going to turn your shop around, I just know it,” Aunt Marilyn encouraged as I gave her a hug.

  “Thanks for being my cheerleader through all of this,” I said warmly. “By the way, you and I have a baseball game to go to on Monday night.”

  “We do?” She asked curiously.

  “Yes. That man you saw in here last night, Lane, well he plays first base for the Padres, and he gave me box seats for Monday’s game.” I couldn’t contain the eagerness in my voice.

  “Oh that’s wonderful! I think he’s really interested in you,” Aunt Marilyn chirped. For a split second, she looked like a bright-eyed school girl rather than a middle aged lady.

  “We’ll see what happens,” I said cautiously even though my fluttery insides felt anything but cautious.

  “Have a little fun, Danica. You’re so young. How many boyfriends did you have in Minnesota? I’ve only heard about the one. What was his name?”

  “Charlie,” I reminded her, puckering my lips at the memory of the only serious boyfriend I’d ever had.

  “Yes and that was back when you were in culinary school, wasn’t it? It’s
time to get back in the game! Literally!” She joked, swinging an invisible bat as I rolled my eyes comically.

  ***

  Saturday morning rolled around, and I sprang out of bed before the sun rose. Too excited about the ribbon cutting ceremony to sleep another second, I briskly showered and donned my favorite petal pink apron over a pair of black jeans and crisp white shirt. Aunt Marilyn and I drove to the shop in one car, chatting about the photo opps and other juicy tidbits that the day promised to bring.

  A gentle breeze swayed from the ocean as I unlocked the front door and rushed inside to set up. The police hadn’t bothered to test for fingerprints yet, but there hadn’t been any ingredient-switching incidents since the cough syrup debacle. Confidently, I powered up the cash register and drew the curtains wide, feeling strongly that a new chapter was opening for Cupcakes by the Sea.

  My cell phone plucked me from my reverie as I answered it in a dream-state. “Good morning. Cupcakes by the Sea.”

  “Good morning. This is Lorraine Fallow calling from Mayor O’Donnell’s office. He’s not going to be able to make it to your ribbon cutting ceremony today. Unfortunately, there’s been an emergency.”

  Chapter 5

  “Emergency?” My chest throbbed with stress, and my stomach was whirling around in circles.

  “Yes, he’s very sorry and offers his regrets for not being there. Have a good day.” With that cursory response, the secretary hung up the phone, leaving me standing in the middle of my empty shop with a look of horror on my face.

  Alarmed, Aunt Marilyn put down the Chunky S’mores cupcake she had been decorating with mini marshmallows and hurried to my side. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, she asked gently, “What’s happened now?”

  “The mayor isn’t coming! Some woman from his office just called and said there’s been an emergency! What am I going to do?!” I couldn’t control the decibel of my voice or the panic in my tone.

  “Calm down…”

  “No!” I cut her off in mid-sentence. “I can’t calm down. There could be hundreds of people here today, all expecting to meet and shake hands with the mayor. I’m going to look like a liar. No one is going to want to come back here. They’ll think I pulled some kind of prank to get customers through the door.” I fought back tears welling up in my eyes. Was my cupcake shop cursed? Nothing had gone right since the moment I rented this stupid place. Not a single thing.

  “Don’t get defeated. We’ll figure something out. Let me put my thinking cap on.” Aunt Marilyn’s face turned grave as she tried to piece together a solution to my enormous public relations problem.

  “Unless we drug the mayor and drag him here from his house, there’s nothing that we can do to make this better! People are expecting the mayor. And the mayor’s not going to be here. My business is screwed. Period.” My chin dropped to my chest as I contemplated the loss of my dream. I could deal with losing a few thousand dollars, but I couldn’t fathom that my dream of owning a successful bakery was gone too.

  Aunt Marilyn still looked deep in thought, but she didn’t say another word. I rambled on, “It’s hopeless. I should just shut down this place right now.”

  “Enough already, Danica! This is a set-back, but it’s not the end of your business. You can’t keep crumbling like a stale cupcake every time things don’t go your way. You have to keep fighting harder. That’s what your father would want.” She looked me directly in the eyes as she emphasized those last words. Tears glistened in her eyes as she spoke of the older brother she had loved and lost.

  “Okay, you just got through to me,” I said firmly. My father had always encouraged me to seize my dreams. “Dad kept playing baseball even though he never made it to the big leagues. It was still his passion, and he didn’t give up on it. I guess that’s how baking needs to be for me. Even if all of Sea Ridge never walks through those doors after today, I have to keep trying.” My thought process was anything but logical. Most entrepreneurs would probably laugh their asses off at my idealistic attitude, but Aunt Marilyn had changed the game when she invoked the memory of my father.

  ***

  Hours later, the sun was shining fully in a cloudless sky, and I was ready to greet the customers---mayor or no mayor. A light bulb idea of offering free samples to every customer now seemed even better than having the boring old mayor as guest of honor at the ribbon cutting ceremony. I would choose the youngest child in the crowd to snip the red ribbon and officially launch Cupcakes by the Sea.

  “I wonder why the newspaper isn’t here yet,” I said suspiciously.

  “Maybe they’re not going to come now that the mayor pooped out,” Aunt Marilyn suggested.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. This is a small potatoes event without Mayor O’Donnell. The newspaper probably has much hotter stories to cover.” Loosening my apron strings just a tad so I could breathe---or try to because I was so nervous---I put on a fluffy white chef’s hat and tossed one to Aunt Marilyn.

  “But I just curled my hair this morning!” She complained.

  “Smile and put it on! You’d look gorgeous wearing a dunce cap!” I said sincerely as she giggled and propped the clumsy hat up on her head.

  Cheerful voices outside my shop doors caught me by surprise. “Could those be actual customers?” I asked hopefully, rushing to open the door even though it was still a few minutes early.

  “Oh, I can smell the success! Smells even sweeter than your Vanilla Bean cupcakes!” Aunt Marilyn enthused, adjusting her chef’s hat and smiling brightly.

  There weren’t hundreds of people outside my door like I had envisioned, but there were several dozen. I greeted each customer individually with a spirited “hello” and a sincere smile. Half the customers were small children who clamored into the shop with fascinated eyes and open mouths. No one even seemed to notice that the mayor wasn’t there.

  The youngest child in the bunch was easy to spot. No more than four years old, the strawberry blond haired little girl squealed with excitement when I offered her mother the scissors to cut the ribbon.

  “And what’s your name?” I asked the sweet child.

  “Destiny,” she replied, trying to grab the scissors from her mother.

  “Careful! You place your hand over mine and we’ll cut the ribbon together,” her mother coaxed.

  The crowd cheered as the ruby ribbon was sliced in two. I cut off another shorter piece and handed it to Destiny, who promptly twirled it through her waist length hair and tied it into a bow. Everyone eagerly lined up for free cupcakes as Aunt Marilyn stood at the counter, trying to keep orders straight. Not once did anyone ask about Mayor O’Donnell, and I felt foolish for having lost my cool earlier.

  By closing time, my feet ached beyond belief, and I was sure I had developed a blister in between every toe. My lower back was also sore, but I was so happy that I barely noticed the pain.

  “People loved my cupcakes! Look how many real sales we made!” I pointed to the computer screen where the day’s totals glowed in the dark.

  “And I lost count of how many people asked about parties! I think you’re going to have a lot of cupcake catering to do,” Aunt Marilyn added.

  “I think you may be right,” I said positively, heading to the kitchen to clean up.

  Aunt Marilyn followed me with a roll of paper towels and other cleaning supplies. She opened the refrigerator and made a sour face. “Oh honey, we need to clean this fridge top to bottom. Look.”

  I peered inside the fridge and immediately started emptying out the contents. Crumbs were stuck to the refrigerator walls and slimy liquids were congealing everywhere. “Glad the customers didn’t see this!” I quipped.

  “What’s this?” Aunt Marilyn asked as she pulled out a huge tub of Cool Whip.

  “I don’t know. How did that get in there?” My heart stopped, instantly afraid that yet another ingredient had been swapped. I always made whipped cream from scratch. Using Cool Whip was a shortcut I wouldn’t take with my baked goods.

&
nbsp; “And it’s open too.” Aunt Marilyn pulled the lid off and sniffed the contents.

  I took a whiff too, instantly realizing what wasn’t in the container. “That’s not Cool Whip! Damn it, I think it could be shaving cream. Can this really be happening again?”

  “Well, we don’t know if it’s again. You hadn’t cleaned out the fridge until now.”

  “No because all the tainted ingredients I found were in the cabinets. I hope this container was put in the fridge before.” I shook my head in distress, the high of my ribbon cutting ceremony instantly sinking to sewer level.

  “We’ve got to figure this out ourselves,” Aunt Marilyn decided firmly.

  “I know. The police definitely haven’t been any help,” I snorted. “One cop took a few notes and was gone in less than half an hour.”

  “I still feel like Betty is responsible for this,” Aunt Marilyn said angrily.

  “Me too,” I concurred. “But there’s no way to prove it.”

  “Well, actually, there might be,” she said slyly.

  “How?” I asked cautiously, somehow sensing that what she had in mind was dangerous.

  “We need to have a look at her computer at work. See if she’s sent any emails out about your shop. Or about you and me.”

  I scrunched my face, completely perplexed by Aunt Marilyn’s vague idea. “Huh? First of all, there’s no way we can get a look at her computer at work unless we break into the building after dark and hack her password. Plus, what kind of emails would she send out? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “To your second point, no one works alone, Danica. If she has been switching ingredients in here, you can be sure she has an accomplice. And her computer is very likely to hold some answers. As far as getting into her office, that’s easy. We don’t need to break in at all,” Aunt Marilyn said with royal confidence.

  “Why not?” I asked warily.

  “Because Marvin will give me the key. He’s never gotten over me. If I ask him for the key and promise him a rendezvous he’ll say yes in a heartbeat, I’m sure of it.” She paused, finally removing her chef’s hat and running a hand through her flattened coif. “I’ll tell him to meet me at the real estate office at midnight for a little fun on his desk. But you and I will be out of there by 11, and Marvin will arrive to an empty office. He’ll have no idea what happened. He’ll think I just stood him up.” Aunt Marilyn looked proud of her plan, but I was still skeptical.