Death by Strawberry Cupcake

  Death by Strawberry Cupcake

  A Cupcake Whisperer Mystery

  By Rose Pressey

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, places, and brands are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Index

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 1

  Things had been a whirlwind lately. I’d inherited my grandmother’s farmhouse outside of Atlanta. The place was kind of in the middle of nowhere, yet not too far of a drive into town. Which was a good thing since I had recently also gotten my own baking show, The Cupcake Whisperer. Well, I wasn’t the only one on the show. I had a cohost. That had been a sore subject for me at first. I supposed I was learning to deal with it now.

  It helped that he was drop-dead gorgeous. I tried not to let that sway me though. However, sometimes when he looked at me with those big green eyes it was hard not to feel a bit giddy inside like I had a schoolgirl crush. No way would I ever let him know that. Finn Fine already knew he was fine, but he didn’t need me to tell him that.

  It was still early on with my baking show he Cupcake Whisperer, but I thought things were going well after a shaky start. I was excited to get things going today. I had to be on set in an hour. I’d just woken up trying not to tumble down the stairs as I headed toward the kitchen. I was a bit blurry eyed. I had to make breakfast, get myself in gear, and out the door.

  Today I would meet the new producer. The other one had been let go. She’d been involved in some scary activities, but that was all behind me now. And I was excited to meet the new producer. Well as long as she saw fit to keep me on as co-host. What if she didn’t like me and told me to pack my baking supplies and hit the door? That was no way to think right now. I had to keep positive thoughts. Positive would attract positive, right?

  I even had to stop off and pick up chocolate before I arrived at the studio. It was called for in today’s recipe. Normally we would’ve had someone shop for all the supplies before such late notice. But apparently the person shopping had forgotten the most important ingredient.

  I liked to buy my candy from this cute little shop not too far from the studio. In my opinion, they had the best sweets in town. Maybe it had worked out for the best that the assistant had forgotten the chocolate. Now I had a chance to get my favorite. Although no one other than the staff would be eating the cupcakes anyway—just me, my cohost, and the production crew.

  As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, something jumped out at me. I screamed and clutches my chest. A streak of furry black and gray raced in front of me.

  “Oh, Ms. Kitty, you scared me,” I said breathlessly.

  My neighbor’s cat was sat on my retro farmhouse kitchen table, staring at me as she licked her paws. I still wasn’t sure how she was getting in the house. I mean, I knew that my neighbor Lucille had had a key, but I’d changed the locks before I’d realized she’d been slipping in the house. Sometimes the kitchen door opened if I didn’t shut it securely, but I knew it had been locked this time. I supposed I need it to just realize that my neighbor’s cat would come over anytime she wanted. Not that I didn’t like the cat and having an announced pop in, but it was a little startling.

  “Oh, there you are, Ms. Kitty. You should come into Scarlet’s house,” Lucille said as she stepped into my kitchen.

  “It’s okay,” I said as I smoothed down my bed head hair.

  “Did you just wake up?” Lucille asked as she eyed me up and down.

  I knew I wasn’t the most glamorous person in the morning when I rolled out of bed. Mrs. Lucille Wells lived in the house across the street. She lived there for years and came over for regular visits when my grandmother owned the place. Now she always came over to check on me. And occasionally bring a delicious dessert like her fabulous apple pie or her blueberry muffins. Unfortunately, her hands were empty today. I could really have gone for one of those muffins right now.

  “I guess she just likes to see you,” she said.

  “Well, I like to see her too, but I wasn’t expecting her to jump out like that,” I said.

  “See, Ms. Kitty, you can’t scare her.” Lucille stroked the cat.

  “Would you like to stay for breakfast, Lucille?” I asked

  “Oh, no, I have a busy morning,” she said.

  “Really? What’s going on?” I asked.

  “The handyman is coming over to repair the fence and I want to make sure he does it exactly right.”

  “Well, that’s understandable,” I said.

  “I suppose I need to get home and out of your hair.” She actually looked at my head. “You can use all the time to get to get ready for the show.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I supposed she meant that in a good way. At least that was the way I would take it.

  “I do need to get to the show.”

  “I’ve been watching every episode. May I suggest that you use a smidgen more cinnamon in your apple cinnamon cupcake recipe?” She pinched her index finger and thumb together.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said with a smile.

  She shrugged and I knew she was probably unhappy with my answer. I should have just agreed with her. Though I felt I had just the right amount of cinnamon. Too much would overwhelm the apple. Sweet Lucille was just trying to help though.

  “Okay, Ms. Kitty, You and I are going back to the house. We’ll see you later, Scarlet.”

  “Have a good day, Lucille. See you,” I said as she walked out the door.

  I closed the screen door and locked it again. Although I had a feeling it would work at keeping out Ms. Kitty. I needed to get that fixed. There was a whole list of things I needed to have done around the house. And no time to get them done. After a visit with Lucille and Ms. Kitty, I was lacking the time to make a hot breakfast. Instead, I had a bowl of bran cereal. Yes, the host of a baking show was having cereal for breakfast. But hey, I liked cereal, and there just wasn’t time to make anything else. Every meal couldn’t be elaborate. Oh, what would everyone say if they heard me say that?

  Anyway, I finished up my meal, cleaned up my dishes, and then hurried back up the stairs to get ready for the show. I’d have my makeup done there. Thank goodness. Because I was definitely no expert in that field. But I often wore my own wardrobe. The funds for the show were limited by the way.

  So today, I decided on a beautiful green dress. It was still summer but of easing its way into fall. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, grabbed my bag, and
headed out the door toward my shiny red Mustang. The car had been a new purchase when I decided to start my life over again.

  As I pulled out of the driveway, I looked over and saw Lucille standing at the edge of the property with the handyman. She was pointing out where she wanted the fenced repaired. She tossed her hand up in a quick wave, but apparently, she was too focused on the work to pay too much attention to me.

  I listened to all the radio as a neighbor driving to Atlanta. I was always the worst when I hit the traffic. I don’t most of the turn for the candy shop. Thank goodness it was open. I worked into the lot and found a spot up front. I didn’t look like anyone else in the shop, but the lights were on. And the sign on the door was turned to open. I grabbed my bag and hurried out of the car to the shop. I stepped inside in the little bell above the door chimed announcing my arrival. No one was around.

  Chapter 2

  After walking up to the counter, I stood there for about a half a minute before I called out.

  “Hello. Is anyone here?”

  No one answered and there was no sound from anywhere in the shop. This was kind of strange. I hoped everything was all right. Maybe I should step back behind the counter and check on things. Or maybe I should just leave and head over to the studio since I was going to be late. But I just had an uneasy feeling about this. I didn’t want to leave this place without talking to someone and knowing that everything was all right. After another minute, I stepped around the counter.

  “Hello,” I called out again.

  Still I received no answer. Everything looked in order as if someone had been working and then just stepped out for a moment. Maybe they had left for a moment and forgot to lock the door. A swinging hinged door that I assumed led into the back area was to the left. I decided to check back there. After stepping over to the door, I pushed the door open just a crack. I didn’t want to startle someone back there if they didn’t know I was in the building.

  “Is anyone here?” I called out.

  I received no answer, but I thought I heard a voice toward the back of the room. Feeling a bit anxious, I stepped into the room. Shelves of supplies and a big stainless-steel island sat in the middle of the room. That was where they made the candy. Containers of the fantastic strawberry cream candy I used for my special strawberry cupcakes had been knocked off the island. An uneasy feeling crept over me.

  Something moved at the back of the room, my attention traveled down. What was that on the ground? Was it really what it looked like? I thought for sure I saw someone lying on the ground at the back of the room. The person was in front of the back door. Someone must be injured.

  As I raced toward the woman, I dropped my bag. The closer I got the more terrified I became. A large amount of blood pooled on the floor under the body. I knew that this person was in serious trouble. The dark-haired woman lay face forward on the ground.

  When I reached her, I kneeled down by the body. I recognized her right away. This was Rhonda Blackwell the candy shop owner. Rhonda always had something nice to say when I stopped in for supplies. A smile always appeared on her face.

  My stomach turned seeing her now. Who would do something like this? I didn’t know much about Rhonda. She sometimes mentioned her husband. Usually it was something in a teasing tone. Like complaining that he never mowed the grass or that he stayed out too late because he was always at the gym. Other than that, I knew nothing about her. Other than she made delicious candy.

  She wore her usual uniform for the shop with a pink apron with white pants and shirt. The clothing was no longer white though. Crimson colored had saturated the white fabric. As I reached out to touch her and check for a pulse, I noticed a knife close to her. Apparently, whoever did this had left without the murder weapon. That would be good for the police. But bad for me if the killer was still somewhere around. I knew enough to know not to touch that knife.

  “Are you all right?” I asked again, knowing I wouldn’t get a response.

  However, I had to ask. Since she didn’t answer, I had to call for help. I’d left my phone in my purse which was now across the floor. A clicking noise sounded from behind me and my fear grew so much that I thought I might faint right there next to Rhonda. I had to keep it together for me and for her. If I wanted to get her help, then I couldn’t freak out right now. I thought for sure I saw the door shut at the back of the room. The metal shelving obstructed my view.

  I assumed that door led out to the back of the shop by the trash cans and additional parking. Had that been the killer leaving? Who else could it have been? Would the killer come back for me? Was there more than one person responsible for this and was that other person still hiding in the room somewhere? I had to get help before I found these answers.

  “Hold on, Rhonda, I’m getting help,” I whispered in case anyone was listening.

  I jumped up to retrieve my tote bag. Before I reached it, a noise sounded from behind me. It felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me. I turned around, but no one was there. Pushing back my fear, I continued toward the bag. I just had to get someone here. Maybe I should wait outside.

  Just as my hand had touched the bag, a baritone voice from somewhere behind me said, “Put your hands in the air.”

  Oh no. This wouldn’t end well. I did as I was told and put my hands in the air.

  “Don’t move,” the voice said.

  I wasn’t about to move. I was forgetting to even breathe. The sound of footsteps swooshed against the floor as he made his way toward me. My heart pounded in rhythm with the steps.

  “Place your hands behind your back,” the male said.

  I was being arrested?

  ‘You’ve got this all wrong, officer,” I said as I placed my hands behind my back.

  Apparently, this did little to stop the police officer because I felt the cold metal rings clasp over my wrists. It wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

  “I didn’t harm that woman,” I said.

  The officer stepped in front of me. Our eyes met.

  “Detective Bailey,” I said breathlessly.

  It felt as if someone had been punched in the stomach. Apparently Detective Bailey felt the same way.

  “Scarlet? What’s going on?” he asked.

  He almost looked apologetic for placing the handcuffs on me. I guess he hadn’t known it with me. But he also wasn’t taking me out of them immediately either.

  “I just came in here and found the woman on the ground. You couldn’t possibly think that I did something to her.”

  There was a pause which was concerning because I thought Detective Bailey liked me. Thank goodness after a few seconds longer he walked behind me and started to uncuff me.

  I rubbed my wrists where the metal had rested against my skin. Other officers and emergency technicians had arrived now. They were tending to Rhonda, but I knew it was too late.

  “Okay, Scarlet, start over and tell me exactly what happened,” Detective Bailey said.

  I did just that as I told and recounted the story of coming into the shop.

  “No one was here so I came to the back and saw her on the ground. On the way over to check on her, I dropped my bag on the floor. When I saw how bad it was, I ran to get my phone to call for help. That’s when you came. By the way, how did you know to come here?”

  He placed the handcuffs back on his belt. “The store next-door heard screaming and then saw someone running from the store. They called for help.”

  The detective was tall, around six foot. He had short dark hair and mesmerizing dark eyes. Thick eyelashes that made me envious. I had to use those fake things if I wanted to achieve that look. Yes, he was a good-looking man. Snap out of it, Scarlet. I had to force myself to stop thinking about his gorgeous face and body. For heaven’s sake, I had almost been arrested. This was no time to think about his muscles.

  I was glad they’d called, but now I was caught in the middle of all this. Though I suppose I would’ve been if I had called just the same.

&
nbsp; “Rhonda was a nice woman. Who would do something like this to her?” I asked. “Was it a robbery?”

  “It’s too soon for us to know,” Detective Bailey said.

  I’d met the detective recently when he was on set at the studio. We had some issues when I first started the show, but that had all been worked out. It was kind of odd that I was on the scene of that murder and now this one too. He had to realize that I was just having a bit of bad luck lately.

  “If you’d like we can step outside,” he said, gesturing toward the front of the store.

  The back area was a bit chaotic.

  “Yes, I’d like that very much,” I said.

  “Sorry that you had to go to this,” he said as we walked.

  “Well, I just hope they find out who did this soon.”

  “We’ll find out who did this. I guarantee it.” His voice had taken on an even more stern tone.

  It wasn’t that I had doubt in his abilities. The killer could strike again though before they even found the first clue.

  “You’re sure you didn’t see anything else?” He pressed.

  “Not that I remember. I noticed a bit of a mess on the counter. Like maybe someone had been looking for something.”