Sweet as Pie Crimes (15 page)

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 months 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 d
éjà 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.

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.”