Cornered by Cupcakes (5 page)

Hannah felt she had finally found her place in life; she loved helping people and she could do it with her best friend at her side. Adam was more than a friend to her now; he was a brother. They both saw many happy years ahead; with the same dream of making the world a better place.

The End

Amber Dearing is living her dream - she's finally the owner of her own brand new ice cream shop and she's got the chance to make it a huge success. Everything is riding on the Cow & Moon launch going as planned. With all of Amber's life savings poured into the business she has no plan B. When, on the day of the official launch, a women drops dead in the middle of store, Amber is not only in danger of losing her business - she is a prime suspect.

Taking matters into her own hands, Amber decides to investigate the case herself. She needs to clear her own name, and she needs to save the business she has worked so hard to start. When she meets Ryan, the cute barista/manager of a competitor's store, Amber really has to put her instincts to the test. Could Ryan be the one to blame, or is Amber not seeing what is right in front of her nose?

Outside the weather was burning hot, but inside the display shelves spilled over with fluffy, deviously inviting mountains of cream and sugar mixed into that heavenly desert known as gelato. The scent of vanilla, hazelnut, and chocolate hit my nose as I surveyed my creations. The aroma hit my stomach - I'd be hungry if I wasn't so nervous.

Technically we’d been open for three days but today was the 'real' opening - the other days had been trials, a 'soft open' which had done little to qualm my nerves. In fact, with every scoop, cone, and sundae my blood pressure only seemed to increase. What would people think? Would they enjoy my creations? Would they tell their friends? Most importantly - would they return for more.

My livelihood depended on it. I put everything into this venture, and it
had
to pay off. There was no other option, no back up plan, no plan b in place. What else was I going to do? I poured all my life savings into The Cow & Moon Gelato shop. It had been an uphill battle getting the thing set up. From day one, I'd been up against a national ice cream franchise - Frozen Planet - who'd tried to out bid me for the shop space. In the end a petition by the community to have more locally owned businesses in the street was the only thing that had saved me. Now everything rested on the store being a success - aside from making ice cream, the only other thing I was good at was reading murder mysteries - and I was hardly going to make a living at that was I?

"Amber? Hellllooo?" June, my 19 year old employee, and the one and only staff member I could afford, waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you in there? Earth to Amber..."

I shook myself back to conscious thought and brought a bright smile to my face. "Yes, I'm here! All good. Just hoping we've got enough to go round... it's a hot day out there." Not that my real concern was that we'd sell out of ice cream. In fact, just the opposite was true, but as the boss it was my responsibility to put on a brave face.

June seemed to see right through it. She rested her hand on her hip and cocked her head to look at me. "Amber, relax." She grinned at me. "It's going to be fine. I'm sure we'll be turning a profit by the end of the week!"

That was easy for June to say, of course. She was only 19, still a student at my former university. She knew nothing of the kind of responsibility that starting a business took. The sleepless nights, the rapidly depleting bank account, the 80 hour work weeks. Still, June was a sweet girl, and there was only a 6-year age gap between us. Even though we were technically boss and employee, I liked to think we were friends. She been there since the start to support me - I'd really come to rely on her.

I smiled back and nodded, forcing myself to relax. "You're right June - it's a beautiful day and the customers are going to come pouring in!" I patted her on the arm before turning to walk towards the front door. With a deep breath and a quick silent prayer upwards to anyone who might be listening, I shut my eyes, and then turned around the "Open" sign.

***

We were so run off our feet that I barely had time to catch my breath, let alone get a meal break - or even a moment to myself. Still, the ache in my feet and ankles was a pleasant one, as I grinned around at my bustling little shop. My baby! I'd done this, I thought, giving myself a little metaphorical pat on the back. Why had I been so worried?

June pushed past me at the gelato fridge and grinned. "See, Ambs? This is a roaring success!" She elbowed me in the ribs and began to scoop up a generous portion of peanut butter gelato for a pair of ladies who'd just sat down. The sweet smell hit my stomach and I realised how hungry I was.

I began to untie my apron. "It's starting to quieten down a bit - do you mind if I leave you in charge for five minutes while I grab a bite to eat?" I looked around to make sure it would be okay for me to leave June in charge.

"Of course! No problems! Go eat girl - you deserve it."

I nodded. "Okay! Don't worry, I won't be long."

"I can handle it." She shot me a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, I've got it all under control."

Bustling into the back room I closed the door behind me and let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding for the past five hours. Gratefully, I staggered towards the staff table and reached over to the fridge for the salad I had stored away in there. I pushed my shoes off and stretched my feet. Hunger had overtaken my nerves now and I eagerly enjoyed a few mouthfuls before I heard a screaming coming from out the front of the shop.

I dropped my salad and ran back to the door without even putting my shoes back on, pushing the swinging plank of wood out. There was another scream.

"What on Earth is going -" I stopped, bringing my hands up to my mouth to stifle my own scream. There, in the middle of my store, was a woman, lying flat and limp on the floor.

"Watch out," a woman said, rushing over to the body. "I'm a nurse." She checked for a pulse at the women's neck, and after a few moments that seemed to drag on for a thousand years, she looked up at my gravely. "She's dead. I'm sorry."

I looked at June, who was in despair. All I could do was stand there, as around me people's abandoned ice cream started to drip onto the tables. They all looked at the ice cream as though it was poisonous.

My stomach no longer filled with nerves, or hunger was suddenly filled with dread. Was I to blame?

Had my ice cream actually poisoned a woman?

***

The following day The Cow & Moon was less playing home to a bustling crowd of customers, and more host to a pile of tumbleweeds blowing through. Outside it was still blistering hot, but inside the gelato cabinets remained untouched.

"I can't believe this is happening..." I murmured.

Besides me, I heard June gulp. "Amber this is all my fault - you left me in charge and-"

"Nonsense," I said, straightening myself up. "You've been nothing but help to me June." I forced my face into a smile, but tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.

"Oh Amber." June leaned over and gave me a hug. "It's okay. We'll get past this. We'll be back on track in no time. This will all blow over."

"Will it? Who wants to come and eat at an ice cream shop where a woman dropped dead on the first official day of business?"

June didn't reply. I knew I had her there.

"Come on," she eventually said, patting me on the back. "Let's just try to make the best of this."

"How, exactly?"

"The quiet time will give you a chance to catch up on you book work?"

I sighed. "Not much book work to take care of considering we've taken in exactly zero dollars of profit today." I looked down at the tubs of over flowing ice cream. "Though if we don't sell any I AM going to have to record a loss-" I was just about to take off my apron when the doorbell jingled to let me know we had a new customer. I looked up with high hopes, only to have them dashed when I saw two blue-uniformed police officers standing there.

I gulped. "I don't suppose you're interested in sampling some of our new vanilla fudge ice cream, are you?"

"We're more interested in asking you about an incident here yesterday."

I shot a look at June, who managed to speak up when I couldn't get my voice to work. "And what do you need to speak to us for?"

"Are you Amber Dearing?"

June shook her head and pointed to me. "This is Amber."

Words were still not my friends. I wiped my rapidly sweating hands and reached one out to shake the officer's hand. June shot me a funny look. "What?" I whispered to her.

"You don't have to shake their hands. They're obviously here to accuse you of something."

"I panicked," I whispered back. Besides, I didn't want to appear guilty. Not that I had anything to feel guilty about. Still, cops in uniforms had a way of inducing guilt, even when you never so much as gotten a parking ticket in your life.

"So you're June." The officer, who announced himself as Officer Tomlinson took out a notepad and snapped the lid off a pen. He gave me a skeptical look as he began taking down my details.

"How long have you owned this store?"

"About a week."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how long have you been open for."

"Well, one day, technically."

His brow shot up even higher. "And you killed someone on your first day open?"

"I didn't kill anyone."

He put the cap back on his pen. "Well someone died immediately after eating at your store."

"But - but surely it was an accident?" My palms were practically dripping.

Officer Tomlinson gave me a slow look. "We're still waiting for the autopsy report, but it looks as though Monica Musgrave was poisoned. Deliberately."

"But I didn't - I couldn't- I mean, I didn't even know her," I tried to protest.

"You're the one who makes all the ice cream, aren't you?"

"Yes, by hand," I replied. "All natural ingredients, all made right here in the back of the shop." That had supposed to be our biggest selling point. Now it seemed like it was going to land me in prison for murder.

"We'll be in touch Ms. Dearing, don't worry about that." Tomlinson put away his notepad and turned to leave. "Make sure you don't go too far."

As soon as they were out the door, I spun around to look at June. Now the tears that had threatened to spill out did. "What am I going to do? They think I that I poisoned Monica on purpose?" I was horrified.

June reached over and patted my shoulder. "Don't worry Amber - they'll obviously clear you - realize it wasn't your fault-"

"Oh what does it matter?" I brushed her hand off my shoulder and looked around at the empty shop. "Whether or not I get cleared doesn't matter - no one is ever going to eat in an ice cream store where a woman died! They are going to assume my ice cream killed her, one way or the other..."

Suddenly I pulled myself up. "Unless..." I began.

"Unless what?"

"Unless I - "I turned to look at June and wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. “ Unless I figure out who killed Monica, myself."

June straightened herself up. "Can you do that though?"

"Well why not? I read enough murder mystery novels, don't I?"

"I suppose so-"

"And I know enough from the books I read to know the police will never do a thorough job. No, if I rely on them to solve this case I'll be bankrupt by the end of the week." I waved my hand around the store, where I could have sworn the cobwebs were already starting to spring up. "No. I need to take matters into my own hands June." I sniffled and straightened myself up fully. "One way or the other I will find out who killed Monica Musgrave, and save this business!" I banged my fist down triumphantly on the bench.

"That sounds great Amber."

"So are you in?"

June nodded. "Yeah." She grinned. "You'll be Inspector Gadget, and I'll be your niece!"

"Or... you could be Watson, and I could be Sherlock..."

"Either way."

I took my apron off and strutted over to the door, turning the sign to "Closed."

"It's time to get started then."

"Monica Musgrave...Monica Musgrave..." I muttered, as I typed her name into every social media platform in existence. Monica was in her mid 50s, but I was hoping she had been active online. I didn’t know how else to find out who she was or figure out who might have wanted her dead.

"There she is!" I shouted, with a little too much glee.

"Where?" June asked.

"Her Facebook profile. Hmmm." I skimmed over the basic info, before pointing to something. "Look! She posted that she was attending a meeting of a local book club this Tuesday. That's - that's today!" I turned around and grabbed June by the shoulders. "You know what we have to do then?"

"What's that?"

"We need to go and attend that book club meeting."

June frowned and turned to look at the other members of the book club. "I don't think we'll exactly fit in there June. Everyone is over 50. I'm only 19. Besides, what will our excuse be for suddenly wanting to join them? They look like a pretty close knit group."

"Right." I thought for a moment. "Well, where is the meeting supposed to take place?"

"The Coffee Corner," June answered, leaning closer in towards the computer. "That's right near here, isn't it?"

I nodded. Believe me; I did my research on the area's competition. The Coffee Corner, like The Cow & Moon, supplied coffee; they even had a homemade gelato counter. The selection was considerably smaller than ours was, but I was still wary of them. "I guess we're going to have to go scope it out," I said reluctantly. Checking the time, "We'd better hurry up, if we want to catch Monica's book club. It's already 10 o'clock, and they've been meeting since 9.30! Let's just hope it was an interesting book that they read this week."

We swung through the doors of The Coffee Corner and I immediately stopped dead in my tracks. "What the..."

The store was full to the brim with customers. The hot weather outside meant that iced coffees seemed to be the order of the day, along with - you guessed if - gelato. "So I guess this is where all our customers have gone."

A young man, with brown curls and tan skin, grinned at us from behind the counter. "Hi there ladies." He waved towards the ice cream counter. "Can I interest you in one of our homemade ice cream cones?"

"No thanks," I snapped. I quickly eyed the display cabinets. He had a very small selection - basic flavours like strawberry, vanilla, and hazelnut. Nothing like the artisan selection, I provided at The Cow & Moon, or had intended to provide...

His smile faded a bit. "Right. That's okay. What can I get you then?"

I glanced over my shoulder towards a space in the store where a group of well-groomed ladies were gathered round a table, sitting on comfy sofas and lounges. They were all holding the same book with the same red cover. That's our group, I thought.

I turned back to the man behind the counter. "I'll just get a latte, thank you."

"No worries."

June ordered the same and as he began to grind the beans, I pulled June towards me and whispered to her. "Watch out for an opening, then try to snatch a table for us near that group."

"Do you think that's them?"

I gave her a look. "It's obviously them June. They are all reading the same book." I was starting to think that June might not be the best detective's assistant.

"Right. Okay - look, that couple is getting up. I'll go grab us a seat."

I smiled at her before turning back to the coffee counter, where the cute guy was frothing the milk for our lattes. I watched his technique carefully. He poured the milk with a deft touch, causing the cream to rise to the surface perfectly, before he embellished the top with a leaf design. A little basic, I could do better, but he seemed to know what he was doing.

"So," he started. "What are you getting up to today?"

I had to think quickly. I hardly wanted to tell him the truth. That I owned a rival store that was in danger of shutting down due to my product, so I was here to spy on his customers.

"Just on a break from work."

"Oh yeah?" He looked up and smiled at me. "What do you do?"

"I work at a bank." Not a great cover, but one that I hoped wouldn't garner any further questions. Better to keep it boring.

"My name's Ryan, by the way." He reached over and passed me my coffee. I took a sip. Not the best I'd ever had, but close.

"I'm Amber," I replied. I considered giving a fake name but decided to keep it simple. I knew from the books I read that you need to keep your lies down to a manageable amount when you're snooping and spying.

"Enjoy your coffee Amber."

I tried not to enjoy it too much. I was already a bit disheartened by how great everything at the Coffee Corner seemed. I hurried back over to June with the two lattes in my hands, being careful not to spill them. I hate to admit it, I was conscious that Ryan might be watching me walk away. Not that I assumed he was or that I wanted him to be watching. But...maybe he was.

June took a sip and nodded in approval.

"Calm down, it's not that great," I said. "Personally, I think our coffee is much better."

"Of course it is Amber." She had to say that though. I paid her.

"Anyway. Did you manage to overhear anything yet?"

June shook her head. "Nothing interesting anyway. They've just been discussing the book they're reading. Apparently it’s called,
The Velvet Dungeon
."

"I've never heard of it."

"Me neither."

As casually as I could, I tried to lean back to catch some of the women’s' conversation. They were busy discussing the protagonist's motivations for staying with her bastard of a boyfriend. It didn't really sound like the sort of book I'd be interested in. No murders. No mysteries.

Speaking of, one thing did strike me as very odd about the women’s' discussion. A member of their club died the day before. I was surprised they even decided to keep the meeting. Maybe they hadn't actually been all that close to Monica. Maybe they just didn't care that a member of their book club had carked in a nearby shop.

Just when I was starting to think they were all psychopaths, one lady finally pipped up on the subject. "Of course, Monica would have loved this book..."

They all murmured in agreement. Another lady stated, "I just can't believe this has happened..."

More murmurs. Then, "Do they know how it happened yet?"

I felt my chest tighten and leant back just a little bit further in my chair.

"They think that she ate some bad ice cream at that new ice cream shop."

Well, at least eating bad ice cream was slightly better than premeditated murder. Slightly.

Another of the women tutted. "I knew that place would be no good."

"No one will ever eat there again."

"I know I won't. I'll be avoiding it like the plague - mark my words."

I leaned so far back in my chair that I toppled over, falling backwards right into the laps of one of the woman, a lady in her 40s with blonde hair and a crisp white shirt.

"Are you quite right there!" She exclaimed, pushing me off her.

I noticed June bring her hands to her face in shock over the scene I had made.

"Oh I'm just - sorry, it's just, I heard what you were saying." I straightened myself up and readjusted my clothes. "Is it really true then? Did a friend of yours really die from eating bad ice cream? That's terrible."

The women nodded. "It happened yesterday. You'd better take our advice and stay away from that new ice cream shop."

"Really? Because I heard it was actually supposed to be pretty good."

"Pretty good?" The blonde women looked aghast. "Someone died their yesterday."

"But aside from that, I heard the ice cream was amazing-"

"Don't eat there, and tell everyone you know to stay away from there. Just like we are."

"I don't think we need to tell everyone we know."

The blonde lady raised an eyebrow. "I certainly will be."

Something about her rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was because she was setting out to single handily ruin my business. Who can say, but I did notice something else about her. She seemed familiar.

"I mean, I was there with her when she ate the bad ice cream."

Ah ha! So I did recognise her. Hopefully she didn't recognise me though. Thankfully I'd been out the back when the majority of the action took place.

"Did you get sick then?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Well, no."

"Then how can you blame the ice cream for what happened? You ate it as well and you are still okay."

The rest of the women looked towards her, expectantly. I knew I'd made a pretty good point.

"Well I…I didn't eat as much as she did. I barely even managed to touch mine before Monica keeled over."

Hmmm, I thought, looking at her skeptically. It seemed to me that she was very quick to blame the ice cream for what had happened. A little too quick, if you asked me.

She returned my gaze. "What does it matter to you, anyway?"

"It doesn't," I replied quickly. "I just don't want anyone innocent getting the blame for what happened. Innocent businesses don't need to suffer."

"Yeah, well, there's nothing innocent about that place, believe me." She took a final sip of her coffee before buttoning up her cardigan. "I need to be off, ladies. I've got a crucial manicure appointment I simply can't miss. Same time next week!"

The rest of the group murmured their goodbyes. From that, I gathered that her name was Beverly, and that she was something of the de facto leader of the group. As soon as she left, I felt the entire energy of the book club change. It was more relaxed and less organised as well. Discussion of the book all but ground to a halt and the conversation drifted more towards gossip and personal lives.

"So who was she?" I asked a lady sitting next to me - the most elderly member of the club, as far as I could tell - a kind looking woman of about 70, wearing a purple blouse and a glistening swan broach.

"Her? That's Beverly." She raised an eyebrow. Before she continued on, she glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "And if you ask me - she's being very quick to cast the blame over Monica's death."

"I thought that too." I whispered gleefully. "So you don't think the ice cream could be responsible either? Or the lovely young women who owns the store."

"It's not that. It's that..." she hesitated, still making sure that no one else in the group was paying attention.

"What is it then?" I prodded.

"Well if you ask me."

"Yes?"

"Beverly never liked Monica. In fact, she hated her. They were always arguing."

"Why's that?"

"Well it sounds silly now. It's…it's probably nothing."

"What? What were they arguing about? Were they arguing yesterday, do you think?"

"Well you see, Beverly has always been the president of the book club."

"Book clubs have presidents?"

"Oh, we take this club very seriously my dear."

"I see. So, what happened yesterday? Before Monica died that is."

"Well, Monica had told her she didn't like the way Beverly has been running things. We all sort of think that way, but none of us would dare say that to Beverly's face."

"Except Monica," I said.

She nodded. "Except Monica. She told Beverly she was going to challenge her for club president."

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "Next thing you know, Monica's dead."

She shuddered. "Yes."

"So you think she might have..."

"Oh, no. No of course not," she answered, too quickly. But she didn't seem convinced.

Neither was I.

"Sorry to disturb your meeting." I smiled and patted the woman on the arm. "And I'm sorry to hear about your friend's passing."

She lowered her eyes. "Who are you?"

I smiled. "Oh, no one. I just work at a bank."