04 Cold Case and Cupcakes

  Cold Case and Cupcakes

  A Pink Cupcake Mystery Book 4

  Harper Lin

  Harper Lin Books

  Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Recipe 1: “Lemon Drops” Cupcakes

  Recipe 2: Chili Cornbread Muffin

  All Books by Harper Lin

  A Note From Harper

  About the Author

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cold Case and Cupcakes

  Copyright © 2017 by Harper Lin.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  www.harperlin.com

  Chapter One

  Traffic on Wolf Road was in complete lockdown. Cars were stalled bumper to bumper as drivers stretched their necks to catch a glimpse of what was causing the delay. All they could see were the back ends of the other cars in front of them.

  Amelia Harley looked at her watch. Even though the view from the Pink Cupcake food truck was better than that of her neighbor in the sedan, she could only see the long snake of traffic and the flashing lights of squad cars up in the distance.

  “An accident,” she mumbled. “Someone speeding, or maybe a car broke down.”

  With the truck in park, she reached into her purse and fumbled around for her phone. She called home and smiled when her son answered the phone.

  “House of insanity.”

  “Adam, are you really answering the phone like that?”

  “Hi, Mom. No. Sometimes I answer, ‘Harley Estate of Madness.’”

  “Great.” Amelia chuckled. “So long as people don’t think we’re crazy.”

  “Where are you? Meg’s threatening to turn cannibal if you don’t get home soon.” Amelia’s daughter, Meg, could be heard in the background, yelling the word brraains like a zombie from a horror movie.

  “I’m stuck in traffic. There was an accident or some kind of incident on Wolf Road, and everything is backed up for miles.” She sighed. “Tell Dan when he gets there that I’m trying to get home.”

  A bubbly beep went off in Amelia’s ear. She lowered the phone and saw the familiar number of Detective Dan Walishovsky, who should have been pulling in her driveway at this very moment.

  “Honey, Dan is on the other line. I’ll call you right back.” With a little more fumbling, she pressed the green telephone image and listened. “Dan?”

  “Hi, Amelia.” His deep voice on the other end of the line always gave Amelia a slight shiver when he spoke. It was that macho just-the-facts tone that she couldn’t resist.

  “Hey. I’m so sorry, but I’m stuck in traffic. I’m going to be late, so you and the kids can go ahead and get started. Just make sure they save me some spaghetti, because I’m starving.” She spat all the words out in one breath.

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault.” Dan groaned. “We’ve got a situation at the No-Tell Motel, and the ambulance and black-and-whites have bottlenecked the street.”

  “My gosh!” She stretched her neck as if she could see something, but the view hadn’t changed. “What happened?”

  “Without giving out too many details, we’ve got a dead man here. Looks like a suicide, but…”

  Amelia could tell by Dan’s voice he was already working the case. Something wasn’t right. There was a wet towel or a torn-up newspaper or some other weird oddity that made him think the scene wasn’t what it seemed.

  “I’ve got some leftover cupcakes in the truck. Would you like me to drop them off for you and your officers when I get closer? I’m literally down the street.”

  She rubbed her stomach as she thought of the spaghetti waiting for her at home. Since she baked cupcakes all day every day, that was the last thing on her list to eat. However, if she had a spaghetti-and-red-gravy cupcake in the back of her truck, she’d eat it and not share. Her mind began to toss around the idea as Dan spoke.

  “Not this time. It’s too much of a risk for contamination. We haven’t swept the parking lot yet.”

  “Okay, well, I know the kids will be disappointed.”

  “Just the kids?”

  Amelia clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.

  “No. I’m disappointed too. But I know how work can be. Do you want to come by when all your paperwork is done?”

  “It’s going to be a pretty late night. I think I better take a rain check.”

  “Okay, Detective. Be careful.”

  Without another word, Dan hung up on his end. It was one of his little quirks that he rarely said good-bye to Amelia when he hung up the phone. Just as he would tuck her hair behind her ears if a few short wisps got out of place.

  It wasn’t the first time Dan had cancelled due to work. It was one of the hazards of dating a detective on the Gary Police Department. But Amelia had really been looking forward to tonight. Adam, Meg, and Dan were all free. The spaghetti was just the glue to bring them together. They were going to eat in front of the television like bad people do and watch one of Meg’s all-time favorite movies, Soylent Green with Charlton Heston.

  “He’s dreamy,” Meg gushed when she got to pick the movie of the week.

  “What?” Adam couldn’t keep from making a comment. “He’s like a hundred years old, and he’s losing his hair.”

  “Yes, but he’s got that something. Mom knows. He’s a detective in the movie like Dan is.”

  Amelia shook her head at her daughter’s observation but smiled. The fact she thought Dan was good enough to be compared to the late Charlton Heston was a pretty big accomplishment. No badge of honor bestowed on any uniform could quite match it.

  She called home again.

  “Mom, are you almost here?” Now it was Meg’s turn to whine. “I’m starving.”

  “Looks like Dan can’t come. He’s been called to investigate something at the No-Tell Motel.”

  “Eww.” Amelia was sure Meg was wrinkling her nose on the other end of the phone. “I’ve heard that place has bed bugs, and that’s the good review.”

  “You guys go ahead and get started without us. I’m still in traffic, and it doesn’t look to be moving, and he doesn’t have any idea when he’ll be done doing what he needs to do.”

  “Okay. We’ll save you some.”

  “Thanks.” Amelia sighed.

  “Mom’s spaghetti is people!” Adam yelled in the background. “People!”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  Meg could be heard laughing at her brother as Amelia ended the call. She slumped behind the wheel and wondered what could be taking so long for the police to get traffic moving again.

  To take her mind off being hungry, she tried to plan her day for tomorrow. But the idea of a spaghetti-flavored muffin just wouldn’t let her go.

  “People don’t eat muffins with spaghetti. They eat bread or garlic bread. The time it takes to make bread might be too much,” she mused to herself.

  She thought that people did eat cornbread. That was really more like a muffin. And, a lot of time
, they ate it with chili.

  “So how could I get the taste of chili in a cornbread muffin without the mess?”

  Her stomach grumbled.

  “If I baked it inside the corn muffin, just a teaspoon or something. Garnish with a sprinkling of cilantro and a jalapeño on top.” She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not. Her leftover double-chocolate-fudge cupcakes were sounding better and better.

  “You’ll ruin your appetite,” she scolded herself and called for backup. But, instead of backup, she got voicemail.

  “You’ve reached Lila Bergman. Please leave a message.” Beep.

  “I’m stuck in traffic. Where are you when I need you?” Amelia teased her. “What do you think of a corn muffin with a dollop of chili in the middle with cilantro and jalapeño on top? Call me back.”

  Lila was hired just as Amelia was starting The Pink Cupcake. It was one of the best decisions she’d ever made in business and in her personal life. Lila had quickly become a priceless employee and a trusted friend.

  Amelia leaned back in her seat and started to stretch just as her phone chirped and made her jump.

  “I’m sorry,” Lila snapped into the phone. “I am ignoring my calls, but when I saw your number, I was too late to answer it.”

  “Why are you ignoring your calls?” Amelia was immediately suspicious. Lila had a few health issues that she was keeping close to the vest, and it was in Amelia’s nature to assume the worst right off the bat.

  “Because I’ve got a brother threatening to come to town and I told him I was not taking in strays at the moment.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Yeah, we don’t really get along. He’s weird.”

  Amelia smirked. “Sort of the pot calling the kettle black, I’d say.”

  “He’s not weird in a good way like you. He’s weird in an annoying and aggravating way. I made the mistake of telling him about my visits to the doctor. No children. No spouse. Where will my fortune go?”

  “No. You don’t really think that’s what he’s thinking, do you?”

  “He wouldn’t be Bobby if he didn’t. I’ll bet he has a coffin all picked out and an urn just for backup.”

  “Lila, please don’t talk like that.” Amelia gasped. “You aren’t dying.”

  “No. I’m not. I’m not anywhere near that, but that doesn’t stop Bobby’s wishful thinking.” She snorted. “Remind me to tell you tomorrow about how his wife manages to get placed in the wills of all kinds of people who aren’t related to her.”

  “What?”

  “It’s true. Her best friend is seventy-nine years old. My sister-in-law is only thirty-six. What kind of thirty-six-year-old woman has a best friend forty-three years older than her? But trust me. When the woman dies, my brother and sister-in-law will be the beneficiaries. It’s a very lucrative hobby.”

  “It sounds kind of sinister.”

  “Morbid. That’s the word I’d use.”

  “Yikes, can we change the topic? What do you think of my idea?”

  “Oh yes, chili muffins? Fantastic idea!”

  Talking with Lila managed to kill some time. Finally, traffic slowly began to creep forward.

  “I gotta go, Lila. The cars are finally moving. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Are you going to make those chili corn muffins tonight?” Lila murmured.

  “You sound like you want me to.”

  “Well, if you’ve got nothing better to do. I’d love to sample one. Sounds like a great breakfast muffin for people who crave something savory instead of sweet.”

  “Good point.” Amelia rubbed her growling stomach. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  After they said their good-byes, Amelia tossed her phone back in her purse, put the car in drive, and slowly started to inch her way up as the cars ahead began to move.

  As she got closer to the No-Tell Motel, Amelia couldn’t help but notice how conflicting the landscaping looked: beautiful blooming red flowers around the sign advertising hourly rates and Jacuzzi suites.

  The parking lot and two stories of rooms looked clean enough, but Amelia saw one of Dan’s uniformed officers standing outside the motel office with a man who she assumed was the proprietor. He looked how she expected an hourly-motel office manager to look. He wore tan pants that had seen better days and a T-shirt affectionately known as a “wife-beater.” Chest hair that matched his forearms bubbled out the top. In his hand, which was more like a paw, he had a stogie. He wore flip-flops because he assumed people wanted to see his feet.

  Amelia also saw Dan’s car in the parking lot, but the detective was nowhere to be seen.

  At long last, she was able to press down on the accelerator and push the needle dangerously close to fifty miles an hour in a forty-mile zone. With a little luck, the lights remained green along the way, and Amelia happily walked in the door, greeted by the delicious smell of spaghetti and the sound of her kids talking together like movie critics. It was wonderful to be home.

  After Edward G. Robinson’s tearful suicide and Charlton Heston’s feeble attempt to save humanity, Amelia strolled into the kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of her cupboard.

  “Mom, can I go to Shooshies?”

  “What’s at Shooshies?” Amelia asked, looking at the expiration date on a bag of cornmeal. “Did you break a wheel on your skateboard?”

  “No. Nothing. Just a couple of the guys from school were talking about hanging out there.”

  Amelia looked up at her son. He was taller than her. Spending all that time in the dark basement he’d converted into his room must have helped him grow, because last time she looked, he was clinging to her thigh with a binky in his mouth.

  “Be home before nine. School tomorrow.”

  He agreed and grabbed his skateboard and left out the front door.

  Going back to her cupboard, Amelia found a can of Hormel chili. Meg stood up from the couch and stretched her arms over her head.

  “That movie has a sad ending.” Amelia looked at her daughter.

  “It does. But sometimes life is sad.” The provocative thought came out of her fifteen-year-old daughter’s mouth in that cute singsongy way she spoke.

  “I hope for you that’s not very often.” Amelia set the can down on the kitchen table and went to the fridge. Fresh cilantro and jalapeños were in the crisper.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Meg pulled her long brown hair over her right shoulder.

  Amelia turned around and looked at her daughter.

  “Me? Why would you be worried about me being sad? Do I look sad?” Amelia clenched her teeth together and pulled her lips back like a snarling dog. Meg laughed.

  “No. You look psychotic.” She stepped up to the kitchen table and began to trace the wood grain with her finger. “I just think sometimes you might miss the way things used to be, you know, when you and Dad were still together.”

  Amelia heard the words and turned to look at Meg.

  “Do you miss those days?” Amelia was afraid to hear the answer. When she stepped back and looked at her life now compared to where it had been, she couldn’t believe it was hers. Her business was doing better than she could have imagined. Her kids were doing well in school. Dan had become an important person in her life. But as she looked at Meg, who was still so innocent but had to face the all too grown-up issue of divorce, she couldn’t help but feel she had been selfish.

  “Sometimes,” Meg mumbled. “But I don’t think The Pink Cupcake would have ever existed otherwise. Plus, we probably would have never met Dan, and I really like him.”

  “You do? What do you like?”

  “His stories. He told me once how he chased this drug dealer into an alley when he was still a uniformed cop. The guy waited for him and then jumped out with a knife.” Amelia gasped. She hadn’t heard this story and wondered why Dan had shared this particular tale with her daughter. “Dan grabbed the guy’s hands in his and then head-butted him, knocking him out c
old.”

  Meg watched her daughter’s eyes widen and blink as she concluded the harrowing story.

  “He also told me one about a snitch that….”

  “Okay, okay. I get the idea. You mean you like those stories better than the stories I used to tell you before bed? You always liked the one about the princess and the pea.” Amelia grabbed her cutting board. Placing it on the table, she pulled a large knife from her chopping block and began to slice the jalapeños after she had turned the dial to warm the oven. “Of course, I always added a few embellishments to the story.”

  “Yeah.” Meg laughed. “The princess went to sleep on a watermelon, a turnip, a sack of potatoes, and I think you even threw in a wild boar and Emma Jackson, that little brat who used to pull my hair in kindergarten.”

  “So Dan’s stories are better than mine?”

  “Well, they are different, that’s for sure.” Meg looked at her mother with questions in her eyes. “Is that okay?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I like you knowing about drug dealers and snitches, but…”

  “Mom, we watched The Man with the Golden Arm with Frank Sinatra two years ago. And I saw the edited version of Goodfellas, so I know what a snitch is.”

  “Good heavens, how much television are you watching?”

  “It isn’t quantity, Mom. It’s quality.”

  Amelia pursed her brow then shrugged.

  “Speaking of quality, did you get your homework done?”

  “Did it in study hall.”

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  Meg looked around the kitchen and then to her mother’s ingredients spread out on the table.

  “I don’t know. Need some help?”

  Amelia looked up and smiled. “Yes.”

  She explained her new muffin idea and got an enthusiastic seal of approval from The Pink Cupcake’s biggest supporter. After all the prep work and in between gossiping, Amelia and Meg put the ingredients together, adding just a pinch of sharp cheddar. That was Meg’s idea. When the timer had gone off and they pulled the new concoction from the oven, the Tex-Mex muffin had been born.