Bake Sale for Murder

  Bake Sale for Murder

  A Pink Cupcake Mystery Book 7

  Harper Lin

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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.

  BAKE SALE FOR MURDER

  Copyright © 2018 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

  Contents

  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: Red Velvet Cupcakes with Buttercream Frosting

  Recipe 2: Butterscotch Cupcakes

  About the Author

  A Note From Harper

  Excerpt from “Sugar and Scandals”

  Chapter One

  Amelia Harley woke up wincing. She had felt the slight scratchiness in her throat the day before but thought that if she paid it little attention, it would leave her alone, like a bully in grade school. So every time she swallowed or had to clear her throat, she ignored the fact that it was scratchier than it should be. When she sneezed five times in a row, she blamed it on an aggressive dander or patch of dust that sought her out. When her eyes watered, it was due to plain old tiredness.

  She wasn’t getting sick. She had no time to get sick.

  The Pink Cupcake was a booming business. Amelia could see from Lila’s bookkeeping that if things continued this way, she’d be able to pay back the bank ahead of schedule. Not next month, but she did estimate six months earlier than she had originally projected. Lila Bergman was a genius with the numbers and had become as much a part of the Pink Cupcake’s success as the cupcakes themselves. There was one thing Amelia had learned working with the fiery redhead. She never had to doubt Lila’s numbers. Lila might confuse the sugar with the salt, but that only happened once, and thankfully, the error was discovered before any customers were served.

  Now, Amelia and Lila were in the process of hiring a third person. This lucky individual would help with everything but the bookkeeping and inventory. Baking experience was not necessary but certainly a plus. Food truck experience was not necessary but a plus. The requirements to fill this position really boiled down to nothing more than being over eighteen, reliable, and halfway sane. It was discouraging that they hadn’t had more takers so far.

  Finally, after waking up in bed but remaining under the covers, Amelia pried open her eyes. They were watery and caked with crusty guck that only collected like that around a sick person’s eyes. She rubbed them, and they watered some more. When she swallowed, she clenched her teeth. It felt as if someone had slipped sandpaper that had been baking in the dry Arizona sun for several hours down her throat.

  She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It read five thirty. That was when she usually got up. But today, she just couldn’t do it. Her mind wrestled with the idea of taking a sick day. She’d have to call Lila and tell her she had a day off. But it was Monday. Monday was the busiest day of the week.

  Amelia started to wonder if she was really all that sick. When she moved under the warm, smooth sheets of her bed, every muscle in her body ached. It was as though she were stuck in a giant spiderweb. Each time she tried to move, she felt pain in a dozen different places. The germs she tried so hard to ignore infected every one of Amelia’s muscles and weighed her down in the bed when she tried to sit up.

  But her guilty conscience wouldn’t stop pushing her. It was a good day to work. The money was needed. If she stayed home that day, she’d have to work twice as hard the next day. Plus, there were people coming to interview for the position of assistant baker. She had to seek counsel.

  “Please, Amelia,” Lila barked in the phone. “The ad’s been out for two weeks, and so far, we interviewed a human yeti who I wouldn’t hire to work around food if my life depended on it and a millennial who refused to touch eggs because of an allergy. You can stay home today and tomorrow, and we’ll get by just fine. In fact, over the weekend, I was studying the numbers, and I think there might be a few places where we can cut corners that might be really worth it. We’ll talk business Wednesday.”

  “Are you sure?” Amelia croaked.

  “Honey, listen to you. You sound like you had your trachea removed and are trying to talk without that electric voice thingy,” Lila said. “Take the next two days off. Knowing you don’t have to come in will give your mind the peace it needs to help your body. Plus, no one wants to eat food handed to them by someone with the plague.”

  Amelia wanted to cry at Lila’s confidence. It was a symptom of her illness. Severe colds like this one always made her weepy.

  “Thanks, Lila.”

  “Do you want me to stop by later and check on you? Wait. Don’t answer that. I’ll bring soup for you and the kids. Don’t worry about dinner.”

  “Lila, you couldn’t be kinder to me if you were my own mother.”

  “Get some rest, and I’ll come by later to make sure the animals have been fed.”

  Amelia set her cell phone on her nightstand, rolled over in her bed, pulled the blankets tightly around her, and blinked back tears. The relief of not having to worry about the Pink Cupcake for two days was huge. Amelia needed someone to tell her not to worry, and Lila was just the person to do that.

  But there was something else that had Amelia tossing and turning during the night. It had her distracted all day the day before. It was the blow that knocked her internal defenses off. The memory dragged itself into the front of her mind and with it more tears. When she tried to swallow them back, she clenched her teeth, again making her jaw hurt and her temples throb.

  People always made fun of mothers-in-law. If the world were a fairer place, it would be ex-husbands who would be the butt of jokes and targets of ridicule.

  “Amelia, Jennifer and I have been talking.”

  Whenever her ex-husband, John, started a sentence with the words Jennifer and I have been talking, Amelia knew she wasn’t going to like what followed.

  He had called her the morning before to let her know he was sending the kids home with his driver. Amelia’s business wasn’t the only one doing well. John’s law firm had acquired some millionaire or billionaire client that shot the whole place up two tax brackets. So John had a Lincoln Town Car with a guy just waiting to drive him around. Amelia’s alimony hadn’t gone up. But her days of relying on John were over. She couldn’t rely on him for a kind word, let alone financial stability, and she had grown to like that. It offered her a freedom there was no price for.

  “You know, with the kinds of things that have been happening…”

  “What things, John?”

  “Your truck getting vandalized, for starters.”

  “John, the truck was repaired. It didn’t cost you a nickel, so I don’t even know what you’re bringing that up for.” It was this comment when Amelia had put her hand to her head and felt the beginning of a headache that turned into a fever. “Besides, your children, the two greatest kids in the world, had a group of their classmates come to help clean everything up. They scrubbed the inside and outside. The father of one of the kids works at the hardware stor
e and donated the paint to cover the…”

  “Yeah, I heard all about the words that were scratched into the paint.”

  “John, you are acting like this somehow affects you,” Amelia replied.

  “It does affect me. But more importantly, this affects the kids.”

  “What are you talking about? The kids are doing fine.” Amelia coughed and cleared her throat. “You insist that they are in trouble or suffering, and that just isn’t true.”

  “Amelia, your little adventures in crime solving have brought a negative element into their lives. You can’t deny that,” John scolded. “They are only children.”

  “John, Meg is fifteen, and Adam is seventeen. It is a little late to try to protect them from the evils of the world. Besides, it wasn’t me that decided to introduce them to divorce. That was all you.”

  Amelia heard John clenching his teeth on the other end of the phone. It pleased her. She was not feeling well, and rubbing John’s nose in the cold, hard facts about their breakup was almost as satisfying as a hot toddy.

  “Amelia, Jennifer and I want the kids to live with us.”

  “I’ve heard this song and dance before, John. You know it’s not going to happen. Their school is here. Their friends are here. Hell, John, I am here. This is where they belong.”

  “I’m afraid it isn’t that easy, Amelia.” John had taken on his lawyering voice. She hated when he did that. Not only was it condescending, but it also usually indicated he was angry about something and taking action. “Meg has been having nightmares.”

  Amelia knew that Meg had had a terrible scare. It was a while back when that stranger came knocking on their front door. Meg almost let him in the house. Almost. But he didn’t get in. He didn’t even get a good look at her, let alone touch her or hurt her. But just because she wasn’t physically hurt didn’t mean Meg wasn’t suffering a little posttraumatic stress disorder. Even Amelia had woken up in the middle of the night and run to her daughter’s room only to find her sleeping soundly.

  “It’s completely normal for her to have a few after…”

  “After a close call that was caused by you. Amelia, the kids will be safer with me.”

  “No, they won’t, John.”

  “Amelia, you are kidding yourself. Now look. I want to do this as easily as possible, but I will drag you into court if I have to. You know I don’t want to.”

  “You can drag me to court all you want, John. I’m not handing the kids over to you just like that.”

  “They don’t want to stay with you anymore.”

  “What?”

  The other end of the phone was quiet.

  “That’s a lie. And let me ask you, what are you bribing them with to get them to admit this? Money? Someone want a new car? A fancy sweet-sixteen party. Tell me.”

  “They’ll be better off. I can offer them more. They can see that there is more to life than Mom’s cupcake truck.”

  Amelia gasped. “That’s it. You hate that I’ve got the business up and running and that I’m turning a profit and sometimes in the papers. It’s not glamorous enough for you. It never was.”

  “Come on, Amelia.” John laughed.

  Amelia knew she had hit the nail on the head when she heard that condescending chuckle.

  “If you have the kids, you can slowly start to cut me and my little business out of your life. You won’t have to be reminded that at one time, you were married to a woman your own age.” Her eyes watered, and her voice wavered. “Am I that much of an embarrassment?”

  “You’ve changed, Amelia.”

  “No kidding, genius!” she shouted. “I’ve had to because I had my life yanked out from underneath me and handed to some girl who only just recently became old enough to drink in a bar.”

  “You know Jennifer is older than twenty-one!” John shouted back. “Your jealousy doesn’t help things!”

  “I’m not jealous, John. I’m happy. I’m happy that we aren’t together anymore. We were just meant to have the kids. Don’t you think that? They are the best of both of us.” She tried to appeal to his compassion. “But they have been with me since the day you decided to leave. If they are having problems, I’ll talk to them. But to yank them out of our home so you can look a certain way to your partners and clients, well, you’re going to be in for a bigger fight than you imagined.”

  “Amelia, don’t do this.”

  “John, don’t you do this.”

  “My lawyer will be in touch.”

  That was it. That was the phone call that had knocked Amelia out and had her laid up in her bed, sick with a fever and chills and a sore throat.

  She squeezed the pillow under her head and began to cry again. Everything seemed hopeless and lost and depressing. But Amelia was sure that once she got some rest, once she was feeling better, she’d see things clearly and come up with a solution to John’s threat. He couldn’t take the kids. Just because he wanted them didn’t mean a judge would just hand them over.

  “But you better be prepared for it.” She whimpered. “All those judges and lawyers, they stick together. You are just one woman.”

  Before she responded seriously to John’s bold move, she would talk with the kids. If there was any truth to what he was saying, if either one or both of them wanted to live with John, then there would be no use fighting him on anything. But not that morning.

  Amelia crawled out of bed to make sure Meg was up. She didn’t have to explain to her daughter why she wasn’t going to work. Meg commented on the black circles around her eyes and snot running down her nose. After handing Meg two five-dollar bills and making her promise to give one to her brother for lunch, Amelia returned to her bed. As soon as her body hit the mattress and her head fell on the pillow, every muscle cried with relief. But her mind still raced, feeling heavy with worry and frustration.

  As tears fell on her pillow, Amelia closed her eyes and soon fell asleep. She woke up again around ten, feeling worse than she had at five thirty.

  Using all her strength, she pulled herself out of bed. Each step hurt, from the bottoms of her feet all the way up her legs. Her back groaned under the heavy pressure of standing. Her nose was totally stuffed, and her head pounded as she shuffled to the bathroom.

  She opened the medicine cabinet and looked for any kind of cold medicine.

  “No.” The medicine cabinet had a cure for every bug bite, itchy skin, pimple, or halitosis but not a single drop of medicine to fight a cold.

  The thought of going out in the world made her want to start crying all over again. But she held it together and took a moment to think. She didn’t want to, but she did. She called Lila for help.

  “Of course. I’ll run to the drugstore and be at your place within the hour. Don’t worry. Go on back to bed, and I’ll let myself in with the key.”

  Amelia had long ago given Lila a key to her house. She was more than trustworthy. The kids loved her because she told them stories about her life and barely kept them at a PG level of appropriateness.

  “I owe you one, Lila.”

  “No, you don’t. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Amelia did as she was told and headed back to bed. Every time she swallowed and clenched her teeth, her head hurt. She’d given herself a headache clenching her jaws the way she was.

  Before she climbed under the covers, Amelia decided she wanted a drink. A tall glass of ice-cold milk or iced tea or even 7-UP was so tempting she couldn’t resist.

  With her bones and muscles protesting violently with shivers, she managed to inch her way down the steps and to the kitchen. She tapped the thermostat, setting it up to seventy-two, and listened for the heater to kick on. It was not that cold in the house, but Amelia didn’t care. She wanted to hear the hum of the furnace and feel the house get toasty. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge along with a tall glass of milk. She wasn’t sure if vitamin D helped when you were sick, but the liquid couldn’t hurt.

  Once back in her bed, Amelia fell asleep
.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Amelia woke up to hear a party going on in her kitchen. She sat up, happy to feel her throat was no longer so sore. The cold had moved from her throat to her nose. She couldn’t breathe at all. Her eyes watered, and a cough had settled into her chest. But the sore throat was gone. That meant the cold was progressing along its normal route. By the same time the next week, she should be as right as rain.

  As she slowly moved down the steps, she heard Lila.

  “Well, you know what they say about sailors. They’ve got a girl in every port.”

  Amelia shuffled down the hall and into the kitchen to see Meg sitting at the kitchen table with several measuring cups and bowls and bags of flour, sugar, salt, and a dozen other cupcake ingredients in front of her. Her eyes were glued on Lila.

  “So when I showed up, I was wearing this red dress. It had a slit up the side that went from there to ya-ya and—”

  “What are you two doing?” Amelia croaked then coughed then recovered.

  “Lila was just telling me about a guy she dated when she was my age. He was in the navy,” Meg said with wide eyes. “He wore a uniform and everything.”

  “It was a different era. Actually, I was sixteen. He was eighteen. I might have told him I was eighteen. Things were different back then.”

  “Lila, do you think we can finish this story some other time? I think Meg needs to get ready for school.”

  “Mom, I’m learning so much more here. This is real life. Did you know that you can’t smell vodka on your breath, but you can every other alcohol?”

  Amelia looked at Lila and arched her right eyebrow.

  “Before you get the wrong idea, I was talking about an alcoholic I’d gone out with. He used to drink on the sly.” Lila held up her finger then looked at Meg. “But even so. I think your mom is right. You better go to school. Maybe I can talk her into all of us playing hooky when the weather gets a little warmer.”