Confections and Confessions Read online




  Confections and Confessions

  A Pink Cupcake Mystery Book 9

  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.

  CONFECTIONS AND CONFESSIONS

  Copyright © 2019 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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Recipe 1: Ginger Orange Cupcakes

  Recipe 2: Caramel Apple Cupcakes

  About the Author

  A Note From Harper

  Excerpt from “Granny’s Got a Gun”

  Chapter One

  Amelia Harley cringed when she heard her cell phone ring again. Her morning was already hectic. Her business, the Pink Cupcake food truck, had become a local sensation, but she hardly had a chance to enjoy it. Like today. It wasn’t even eight in the morning, and she had already received an emergency call from Beatrice Mooch, the newest addition to the Pink Cupcake family, who was in a dither over the low amount of flour and peppermint extract in the truck.

  “Ms. Harley, the artist must have ample supplies to create the masterpiece.”

  “Yes, Beatrice,” Amelia replied, her phone pinched between her shoulder and her ear as she got in her car. “You are absolutely right. I’m on my way to Hershall’s. I’ll get you everything you need.”

  “Can you pick up some fresh cilantro?” she added.

  “Fresh cilantro? What are you thinking?” Amelia loved cilantro.

  “Imagine a tropical island.” Beatrice began her yarn. “The air is warm, and you can smell the freshly cut lime on the rim of your piña colada.”

  “I’d love to imagine being on a tropical island, Bea, but I’ve got to get these tasks accomplished. How about giving me the short version?”

  “A lime and cilantro cupcake with coconut frosting and cilantro sprigs as garnish,” Beatrice replied.

  “That sounds delicious. I’ll get you the cilantro, and I better pick up some more coconut shavings because I think this is going to be a big seller.” Amelia smiled. “I’ll get to the truck as soon as possible, but the rain has slowed up traffic. Just hang in there. Reinforcements are on their way.”

  Just as she hung up, her daughter Meg called, nearly in hysterics because she couldn’t find a certain pair of socks that went with a certain blouse, and her big brother Adam was being a jerk and not helping her look.

  “I don’t think your brother would even know where to look, honey. Go check in the laundry,” Amelia instructed. “I know there are some folded on the table next to Adam’s bed.”

  Adam had long ago taken up residence in the basement, the only room in the house big enough for the vast computer network he had assembled. NORAD would have envied the entire system Amelia’s sixteen-year-old had.

  “He won’t open up the door,” Meg said.

  “Tell him I said to open the door and let you look.” Amelia heard Meg repeat her command, adding, “Or else you are going to be grounded.” There was an exchange of words and a few names called, but Meg was soon in Adam’s inner sanctum. The desired socks were located, and the two teenagers went off to school.

  After Amelia picked up Beatrice’s supplies, her phone rang again. She didn’t answer. Whoever it was could wait until she parked. When it rang a second time, her first thought was that the kids were having a problem. Did they forget something? Was there an emergency? By the third time it rang, she was annoyed and worried at the same time until she finally parked her car, pulled her phone from her back pocket, and looked at the number. Her heart sank.

  John Harley had left three messages, each one more hysterical than the last. For a moment, Amelia wondered if perhaps he’d lost track of his favorite pair of socks, too. Of course, in typical John Harley, Attorney at Law fashion, he made demands that she call him immediately. This crisis could not wait.

  She dialed her ex-husband’s number, put the phone to her ear, and held her breath.

  “It’s about time you called me back,” John snapped. “You know when I call, I need you to answer the phone immediately.”

  “I was driving, John. And hello. Good morning. I’m doing well, thanks for asking. How are you?” Amelia replied, rolling her eyes.

  “I don’t need to hear your sarcasm, Amelia. This is serious.” He sounded like a spoiled teenager, and Amelia was pretty sure his drama-filled request would be appropriately nonsensical.

  “What is it then, John, because I need to get to work.” Amelia knew her tone wasn’t going to make him any happier, but she had to ask herself: when did anything she said make John happy?

  “You know,” John started. “I’m looking at these child-support payments, and I have to ask you: what are you doing with all this money? I mean, the kids go to public school, so you don’t have to pay for that. Adam is already six feet tall. He won’t be growing any more, so you can’t possibly be spending it on clothes. According to all the magazines in town, your little business is turning a profit. To be honest, Amelia, I’m suspicious of what you are using my money for.”

  Amelia took a deep breath. Her knuckles whitened on her left hand as she squeezed the steering wheel and on her right hand as she gripped her cell phone.

  “Again with the money, John? Maybe, instead of asking where your ex-wife is putting your child support, you should look a little closer to home and ask where your wife is putting your paycheck.”

  “Jennifer has to buy for the baby,” John replied. “It costs a fortune to have a kid today.”

  “Oh, it does? Right, because it was so inexpensive and convenient when we had Adam and Meg. Or did you forget about them?”

  “How can I forget about them when I’m paying for them still every month?” John raised his voice to a level that shut Amelia down completely.

  She’d learned soon after their divorce that she no longer had to listen to him. When they were married, and he yelled, she would scurry around to find a solution to whatever bothered him. And whatever solution she came up with was never good enough, always naïve or stupid and something he’d never consider. Until he thought about it, tweaked it, and made it his own genius idea.

  But now, as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t help relish the little twinge of satisfaction that came from hearing him sound so frustrated.

  “John, I was more than fair in my request for child support in court. You know it. Your financial problems have to do with you and your wife. I am no longer part of the equation.”

  “Amelia, I know you think that, but I’m not so sure. I need you to start providing receipts for the things my money is going toward,” John said.

  “What? John, are you crazy?”

  “I knew you were going to respond this way.” He growled. “But I’m telling you now that if you fight me on this, you’ll lose.”

  “Oh really? Well
, fasten your seatbelt because I am fighting you on this, John. It’s the unreasonable request of a drowning man too stupid and stubborn to tell his child bride to lay off the credit cards. Any judge will see that.” She trembled. Why couldn’t John just talk to her like a person? Why did it always have to be these condescending ultimatums? She couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to her like an adult with respect or even a little levity. Everything was Armageddon.

  “Tonya has nothing to do with this, Amelia!” John yelled.

  “Tonya? Who the heck is Tonya?” Amelia asked, wrinkling her nose.

  John quickly cleared his throat. “Jennifer and I deserve to be happy, Amelia. Our baby deserves the best life has to offer.”

  “What about Meg and Adam?” There was silence on the other end.

  “I’ll see you in court” was all he said before hanging up the phone.

  “Yeah. How many times have I heard that before?” she said to no one. With Beatrice’s flour and peppermint extract plus extra shredded coconut in her hands, she climbed out of her car and kicked the door shut just as Lila Bergman approached the truck.

  “That can only mean one thing,” Lila said as she reached out to help Amelia with her supplies. “You talked to John this morning, didn’t you?”

  “I just need some coffee. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Come on inside, boss. We’ve got plenty,” Lila said as they walked to the front of the truck and climbed inside.

  Chapter Two

  “Did you bring the… ah, yes. Come to me, my precious,” Beatrice said as she darted over to Amelia and took the bag of flour from her.

  When Amelia first hired Beatrice, she didn’t know what to expect. Beatrice had the shape of a fire hydrant and had mentioned a girlish crush on Karl Malden. But her baking skills were second to none, and every day the little gnome transformed into a fairy as she flitted almost effortlessly from the prep area to the ovens to decorating and final display for sale.

  “Good morning, Bea,” Lila said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’m in the zone right now, Lila,” Beatrice mumbled. “The greatest bakers of history are channeling through me at this very moment.”

  “Well, we’ve only got so much room in this truck, so I hope they keep their hands to themselves,” Lila teased as she set down the things she took from Amelia. Without hesitating, she poured coffee into two small cups and placed one in front of Amelia, who was opening up the service window. They had about five minutes before they officially opened, and Amelia launched right into her conversation with John. When she finished, Lila sat with her mouth hanging open.

  “Tonya?” Lila’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’s up to his old ways, do you? Not with Jennifer having the new baby and all.”

  “A leopard never changes its spots,” Beatrice opined without looking up from her work.

  Amelia jerked her thumb in Beatrice’s direction while nodding her head.

  “But that baby is how old? Only a couple of months, right?” Lila asked.

  “I think she’s got to be maybe six months at the most. I don’t really keep track because I’ve not been too involved. I like babies. Heck, I love babies. And the baby didn’t do anything wrong. But she’s my ex-husband’s new wife’s baby. I can’t worry about her. I have my own babies to worry about.”

  “And they make it clear every day that they aren’t babies anymore.” Lila chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee.

  Amelia smiled and nodded. “Meg is still a little girl. Even though she is fourteen, she still likes to act silly. And her best friend Katherine’s imagination is so far out there. Those two are not in any hurry to grow up. For that I’m thankful.”

  “How is Adam doing?” Lila asked. “If he’d like to earn a few bucks, I’m getting rid of some junk I’ve had in storage for a hundred years. If he’d load it on a U-Haul-It and take it to my favorite donation place, I’d be willing to pay him.”

  “I’ll be sure to let him know. He’s always looking for a way to make a few dollars. He is not unwilling to work, like some kids. He just doesn’t like being told what to do.”

  “Hmmm… he’s inclined to be his own boss? I wonder where he gets that from?” Lila smiled as the line of customers started to form outside the window.

  The smell of the sweet baking cake filled the truck and escaped out the service window, enticing anyone who walked by.

  The sounds of people talking on cell phones, chatting with one another, music from the other trucks, children laughing, and birds singing in the trees overhead formed the symphony Amelia had come to hear almost every day. Today, she heard thunder in the background, but that was most days in Gary, Oregon, and as everyone knew, if you didn’t like the rain, give it a few minutes, and it’ll pass.

  Amelia felt the same way regarding her mood. Just give it a little time and that storm cloud will pass, too. It was just so frustrating that John still had this effect on her. That cord should have been severed a long time ago.

  But soon enough, with the foot traffic and her customers’ demands, John’s issues had become a distant memory, a mere annoyance like a pesky mosquito during an otherwise pleasant picnic.

  Once everything died down and the ladies could sit for a few minutes before preparing for the lunchtime rush, Lila patted Amelia’s hand and told her to take a seat.

  “I was going to tell you first thing this morning, but it had to wait.”

  “Lila, please don’t tell me you’re leaving me to marry some Arab prince and moving to Dubai,” Amelia said.

  “The Pink Cupcake would be coming with me. Those people eat cupcakes.” Lila put her hands on her hips. “No. I’ve got good news and bad. The bad first?”

  Amelia nodded.

  “The bad news is we are falling behind on our ability to produce. We are turning down catering jobs, and that is not good for business.” She pulled out her black logbook and started to read her numerical notes, which made very little sense to Amelia, but she was sure she got the general gist of it.

  “The bottom line is that we are losing money that we could be making because we are too small.” Then Lila leaned back and admired her long, red manicured nails. “But in addition to this problem, I am prepared to offer you a solution.”

  “I’m all ears,” Amelia said, sitting up in her seat.

  “I’ve got a friend who knows a guy who is looking to unload an almost new food truck. It only has two ovens, but it’s barely been used, and he’s desperate to get rid of the thing.” Lila pursed her red lips together.

  “Really? What’s he asking?”

  “Minor details, Amelia. Whatever it is, I know we can afford it. I’ll make sure of that. But the real question is, are you ready to take on another truck?” Lila looked back at Beatrice. “I think we have a more than capable head baker. Am I right, Bea?”

  “Are you kidding? Gordon Ramsey better get out of my way. We will settle for nothing less than perfection. I will pass down the instructions that have sustained my people for generations, and the heavens will open with songs of praise to our cupcakes, showering us with favor and smiting our enemies.” She raised her hand like a power-hungry emperor. “And I will lead my army to the ends of…”

  “Okay, Bea is on board,” Lila interrupted. “So, can I tell this guy we’ll take his truck?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia said. “I trust you. Let’s do it.”

  As the reality of the situation slowly started to sink in, Amelia couldn’t help but feel a little snobby. Yes, she was going to enjoy this moment, and in her wildest, most intimate thoughts she imagined John’s envious face as he heard—secondhand, of course—that her business, the same business he made fun of, was not just flourishing but growing like a weed in the heat of July.

  A part of her whispered caution. Another truck meant more insurance and twice as many supplies. Plus, once again, they’d be faced with the prospect of hiring qualified people to fill the jobs of baker and what, an assistant manager? Amelia didn
’t even know the name of the position that she would have to put an ad out for.

  Okay, gloating time was over. That sure was short-lived. Now the responsibilities and reality came into focus. As the day went on, and the Pink Cupcake once again closed shop in the black and without a single cupcake left over to take home, not only was Amelia excited to tell the kids the good news, but she thought Dan would be pretty happy for her, too.

  Detective Dan Walishovsky and Amelia had been dating for quite some time. After John, Amelia never thought she’d let another man in her life. Especially the kind of man who had to deal with the riff-raff of society like Dan sometimes had to. But, when people make plans, God laughs. She couldn’t imagine not having Dan around.

  They had made plans to have dinner tonight. He was working the late shift, as usual, and they’d had to postpone the last two dates they’d planned because of his work. But tonight, she had a couple of steaks thawing in the fridge, baked potatoes ready for the oven, and a fresh tomato salad. She’d hoped for at least two cupcakes to take home, but they’d have to settle on an apple with peanut butter as a dessert.

  “Hey, Beatrice. What do you think of a caramel apple cupcake?” Amelia looked at Lila and winked.

  “I think you’re speaking my language. With sea salt, of course.” Beatrice’s eyes flashed as if she’d just been presented with a ruby the size of a football.

  They called it a night, and Amelia looked forward to telling Dan everything that happened during the day. But the Portland Police Department had other plans.

  Chapter Three

 

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