A Death Before the Wedding

  A Death Before the Wedding

  A Pink Cupcake Mystery Book 10

  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.

  A DEATH BEFORE THE WEDDING

  Copyright © 2020 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

  Recipe 1: Corn bread Cupcakes with Maple Bacon

  Recipe 2: Jalapeño Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

  About the Author

  A Note From Harper

  Excerpt from “Granny’s Got a Gun”

  Chapter One

  The beautifully airbrushed faces of over a dozen brides-to-be stared back at Amelia Harley. She had agreed to meet her best friend, Christine Mills, at the last remaining bookstore in Gary, Oregon, to chat and catch up and discuss Amelia’s upcoming wedding. They’d found two comfy chairs with a coffee table in front of them where they could spread out but were still close enough to talk without disturbing anyone else. As Amelia looked at all the choices and all the price tags, she started to get cold feet.

  “They all look so young and perfect,” she muttered as she swept her hand across all the glossy covers.

  Christine sat next to Amelia, snuggling into the high-back armchair with her own large coffee in front of her and a magazine in her hands. “Brides can be any age. My Aunt Tootie has been married three times, and she’s worn a white dress at each wedding. She even decorated her walker at the last one. It had streamers and a Just Married sign made from cardboard and glitter hanging from the front.”

  Amelia nearly spit out her coffee. “No she didn’t.” She laughed.

  “I swear.” Christine held up her right hand as if taking an oath. “If she can wear a wedding dress at her age, you certainly can. Stop with the false modesty. You know you’re still a little hottie. Any one of these dresses would look fabulous on you.”

  “I don’t know, Chris. Look at this one.” She held up a magazine called Exquisite Bride. On the page was a gorgeous, rail-thin model wearing what was nothing more than the laciest, sheerest body stocking sewn with Swarovski crystals and real mother-of-pearl buttons up the back. Amelia was fairly sure wearing underpants in this number would be an impossibility.

  “Okay, first, the dress is horrendous,” Christine said flatly, making Amelia laugh. “Second, only a stripper would wear something like that. You and Dan aren’t getting married on the Vegas Strip. You’re going to have a beautiful wedding. You know what they say.”

  Amelia waited as Christine continued to flip through her magazines. “Well, I’m waiting. What do they say?”

  “They say every bride finds the right dress for her. Sheesh. You’d think you’ve never been through this before.”

  “That’s another thing.” Amelia shook her head. “My wedding to John was a huge spectacle. It’s so embarrassing now. I keep thinking, who am I to have a second wedding with all the trimmings and attention? Especially when I’ve got a daughter. She’s going to have a special day someday and—”

  “She’s just turned fifteen,” Christine said. “I should hope she’s not making plans yet.”

  “You know what I mean, Chris. I don’t feel like I deserve this.” Amelia closed the magazine and took a sip of her coffee. She thought back to her wedding day with John. She’d been so happy, and he was so handsome, towering over her a good solid foot, his shoulders even broader in the tuxedo he wore. Forever, they had promised. After so many years together and two beautiful children, how could it have gone so wrong?

  She remembered her big billowy dress, the couple hundred guests, their honeymoon in Hawaii. It was beautiful, but it turned out to be nothing more than a dog and pony show. At least, that was how Amelia felt looking back on it.

  “You of all people do deserve this.” Christine took her friend’s hand. “John was the one who cheated. John was the one who ruined everything. It wasn’t you.”

  “I can’t look at any more wedding magazines.” Amelia smiled and started to arrange them in a stack. “I should be working on the second truck. That’s something I can get jazzed about.”

  “So you’re really expanding the business?” Christine asked.

  “I have to. The demand is insane.” Amelia smiled. “I never would have believed that my little cupcake business would have taken off like it did. I just can’t believe it sometimes.”

  “There it is,” Christine said, smiling and pointing at her friend.

  “There what is?”

  “That excited bride-to-be face. I think you are right. Let’s put away these magazines and finish our coffee. Do you still want to go check out The Old Barn for the reception?” Christine asked before taking a sip.

  “We made the appointment. We should go. I’ve been dying to see the place even if I weren’t getting married. I’ve heard it’s really something unique.”

  “Uh-oh,” Christine said, looking at the door that had just been set off by a chain of jingling bells. “Don’t look now, but we’ve got incoming missiles at nine o’clock.”

  Before Amelia could turn and look, she heard the high-pitched squeal of excitement. Her shoulders bunched up against the noise, and as she looked to her left, she saw Denise, Linda, and Sarah coming toward her.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t come to the bookstore for months and the one time I do the Witches of Eastwick show up,” Amelia said with an annoyed smirk on her face. It was bad enough they’d known all about John’s affair for months and never breathed a word to her. But to come up to her after Amelia had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with this nest of vipers showed even more ignorance on their part.

  “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it!” Denise gushed. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Having coffee,” Christine said.

  “Amelia, you have no idea how much I have been thinking about you lately,” Denise said.

  “It’s true,” Sarah interrupted with a nervous smile. “She was just telling us the other day that she wondered where you’ve been.”

  That wouldn’t have anything to do with my wedding announcement being in the paper about three months ago, Amelia thought but said nothing.

  “She’s been working,” Christine offered. “In fact, we’re on our way to go look at another truck. Business is booming.”

  “Oh, looks like you have your very own PR person,” Denise jabbed.

  “Amelia takes good care of her friends,” Christine snapped back.

  Amelia sensed that any minute this chance meeting might turn into a brawl. She cleared her throat and picked up Exquisite Bride and started flipping through the pages, falling back to the sheer dress Christine said only a stripper would wear.

  “Christine and I are trying to get some wedding dress ideas,” Amelia said, instantly hating she said anything. Why didn’t she just let Christine tear Denise, Linda, and Sar
ah apart? If anyone could do it, it was Chris. Living in a house with four boys plus her husband, she was the most qualified to take down these gossipers.

  “Oh, are you getting married?” Linda asked, feigning surprise.

  “I told you that I read it in the paper,” Sarah said, looking at Linda, who ignored her and stared at Amelia with a smile, while Denise gave Sarah a nudge with her elbow.

  They hadn’t changed at all from the day they told Amelia about her husband’s infidelity in the middle of lunch at a full restaurant. It was not just the news that shocked Amelia, but the joy these women took in telling her about it. She couldn’t say what was worse—having a cheating husband or having women who said they were her friends savoring her distress.

  “Congratulations,” Denise finally said. “It’s about time. I mean, John moved on. It’s only natural you should want to too.”

  “Denise, I’m getting married because I love my fiancé. Not because I feel that since John did, I should too. That’s stupid.” Amelia glared at Denise. “And I don’t think you should comment on things you know nothing about. None of you know anything about me anymore. We travel in different circles now.”

  Denise swallowed hard. Linda and Sarah looked at her as if waiting for her to direct them on what to do next. She lifted her chin and quickly blinked a couple of times before clearing her throat and looking at Christine, who smiled broadly before taking a long, loud sip of her coffee.

  “I thought we could bury the hatchet,” Denise said.

  Maybe she meant it. But that would mean she felt bad for how she and the girls had treated Amelia that day at lunch. Amelia didn’t think that was their motivation. Maybe it was cynical of her, but Amelia was sure it had more to do with the Three Stooges looking for fodder and not forgiveness. They had come by the Pink Cupcake on Food Truck Alley a couple of times, but Amelia was playing the role of businesswoman and boss. She served them and was pleasant. But this wasn’t the food truck, they weren’t customers, and Amelia had had enough. She looked sternly at them all and said not another word.

  “We just wanted to say hello and wish you luck,” Linda snapped.

  Amelia looked at Christine, who narrowed her eyes at the trio but kept her mouth shut.

  “Fine. We’ll go,” Denise said before turning and stomping up to the counter to order a coffee. It reminded Amelia of high school when one clique clashed with another. Now they would get their lattes, find a table to sit at, and lean in to whisper to each other about how awful Amelia was to them.

  “That was fun. Can we do some more?” Christine chuckled.

  “I’m done with them for good,” Amelia said, feeling a little lighter. She looked down at the wedding magazines and shook her head. “And I’m done with these. I’ll just go buy something off a rack somewhere.”

  “You sure you don’t want to look at Novelty Bride? Each dress comes with a boutonniere that squirts water. Oh, here we go. Biker Bride. No? What are you shaking your head for?” Christine asked with a straight face, making Amelia laugh even harder.

  They left the bookstore, the magazines, and a good chunk of Amelia’s past behind and never looked back.

  Chapter Two

  The Old Barn was exactly that, a beautiful, giant red barn that was transformed into a reception hall that could accommodate an intimate party of seventy-five people or an extravagant event for up to five hundred. It was rustic and simple, yet anyone who was able to book their party there was allowed bragging rights of having celebrated their special day in the same place where the governor of Oregon’s daughter had her wedding reception. Recently, the star of a comic book superhero movie also had his son’s fifth birthday party there.

  The property sat on top of a hill with a beautifully manicured lawn with brilliant patches of every kind of flower imaginable. Tall weeping willows added to the romance of the entire place. The long drive leading up to it was gravel until it got to the house where the owners lived. They rented out their farmhouse as a bed-and-breakfast able to accommodate about thirty guests. The wraparound porch was sprinkled with antique milk canisters, rocking chairs, and even a tub with a washboard in it. Delicate wind chimes hung from every corner of the house and were set off with the slightest breeze.

  “It’s like we stepped into a Jane Austen book,” Christine said as they parked Amelia’s old sedan at the top of the hill.

  As soon as they got out of the car, a tall woman in a striking green blazer and matching skirt came hustling out of the farmhouse. She had to be about six feet tall, and that was without the stilettos she was wearing.

  “Hello,” she said without smiling. Her thick lips were coated with a brown lipstick, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun. “You must be Amelia Harley. We’ve been expecting you.” The woman sniffled. Either she was coming down with a cold or she had been crying. Amelia wasn’t sure.

  “Yes,” Amelia replied and stuck out her hand.

  “I’m Sondra Hope. I’m the owner of The Old Barn. Welcome,” she said, still barely cracking a smile.

  Amelia went on to express how much she liked what she’d seen so far just coming up the driveway. “It’s absolutely breathtaking,” she said.

  “Thank you. Um, if you’ll excuse me for a second, I have an issue with some of the staff I must tend to. We’ve got a huge fundraiser taking place in four days and aren’t nearly ready. But we will be. Why don’t you walk around the grounds and look inside the old barn, and I’ll be right back to answer any of your questions.” Sondra looked over her shoulder as though she expected someone to come running out after her.

  “Thank you. We’ll do just that,” Amelia said.

  As soon as Sondra turned her back and headed back toward the house, Christine looked at Amelia with raised eyebrows. “What do you think that is all about?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she just got some bad news, or her pet died. I couldn’t even guess,” Amelia replied.

  “She isn’t what I expected as the owner of The Old Barn. I thought it would be a chubby middle-aged farm lady wearing a flowered house dress, and her husband would be in overalls, holding a pitchfork, while she carried a basket of ripe tomatoes,” Christine added.

  “That’s what I would have thought too. She looks like she stepped out of one of those magazines we were looking at.”

  Amelia nodded toward the barn. They started to walk in that direction when suddenly there was a loud shriek, the sound of something crashing, and then dead silence. From around the back of the house, a man in a navy-blue jumpsuit came rushing out. He was covered in sweat, and his eyes were wild, but he stopped as soon as he saw Amelia and Christine.

  “Did you hear that?” Christine asked.

  Just then, a tall man in sleek black slacks and a crisp light-gray button-down shirt came strolling out from what looked like a greenhouse attached to the house. His hands were in his pockets. His eyes shifted up, then he stopped abruptly as if he wasn’t expecting to see two strangers standing near his porch.

  He pulled his hands from his pockets. “What was that?” he barked while looking at Amelia and Christine.

  They shrugged, and Amelia pointed toward the house. He went inside the house through the front door, letting it slam behind him. There were shuffling sounds, something glass broke on the floor, and there was grunting.

  Before Amelia could say another word, the front screen door flew open, and Sondra came staggering out, her face contorted in pain, her eyes wide and yet unseeing. Her hands were held out in front of her as if she were only able to find her way by touch. After three clumsy steps, she fell over, slapping hard against the wood porch floor and revealing a pair of garden shears protruding from her back. She was dead.

  “Oh my gosh!” Christine cried. “Someone call 911!”

  The gardener stood there, sweating and looking around nervously, before he hurried to the work shed at the far end of the barn and disappeared inside.

  Christine fumbled through her purse, muttering t
he entire time that she had never seen anything like it, nor had she ever wanted to. “You can’t have your reception here now. There has got to be a saying from the old country warning brides not to marry where a death has occurred, or you’ll be cursed with eighty years of sorrow or thick black facial hair or something equally ghoulish.”

  She held her cell phone up to her ear and spoke with the dispatcher, giving a quick yet gruesome account of what just happened. The thing Amelia wondered was where the guy in the sports jacket was. He was looking for Sondra just a minute ago, but now he didn’t even come to the porch to see if she was all right.

  Amelia ran up to her but could tell by the way her eyes stared blankly and her face was twisted in a grimace of fear that she was dead. Other than the garden tool protruding from her back, her nails, jewelry, and hair were still in place. Her right shoe had come off, exposing a perfectly pedicured foot. Amelia shook her head at Christine, who continued to speak to the dispatcher. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

  “What are you doing? Get away from her!” screamed a hysterical man who looked like Superman had just stepped out of a comic book and slipped out of his superhero costume into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and cowboy boots.

  “I’m sorry. I was just trying…” Amelia stuttered before looking at Christine, who stared with her mouth open and the phone hovering away from her ear. She mouthed the word “Wow.”

  “He did it! I can’t believe it! He finally did it! Oh, Sondra! Sondra, can you hear me?” the man blubbered like a big baby. Tears gushed from his eyes as he tried to roll Sondra over.

  “You shouldn’t touch her until the police arrive. You might—”