Bake Sale for Murder Read online

  “And give all this up?” He shrugged. “I’ll see you after school.”

  That afternoon, when the school was emptied of nearly all the students, Amelia was joined by Meg and Adam plus Katherine and Amy.

  “This is a nice surprise.” She gave all the kids a hug.

  “Many hands make easy work,” Katherine replied. “I heard that there were going to be over fifty people bringing some kind of dessert. I doubt any of them will even come close to your cupcakes, Mrs. Harley.”

  “Well, thanks, Katherine. Not everybody likes cupcakes, so with that many people, I’m sure there will be something for everyone.”

  With the keys for the supply closet in her hand, Amelia unlocked the door and found more than enough stuff to decorate not just the tables but half the gym as well. There were banners with the school name, huge pictures of the mascot, a knight with a huge shield, pom-poms, streamers, and half a dozen trinkets in the school colors of red, white, and black.

  While Amelia had the kids start covering the tables and putting up the banners, she left the gym to use the ladies’ room. It looked exactly like the bathroom where she’d attended high school. There was graffiti on the stall doors. It smelled of soap and ammonia.

  She stepped into the last stall away from the door, which was propped open with a tiny wedge of wood. Amelia was just about to flush the toilet when something made her freeze.

  “Stacy, you have to stop.” It was a girl’s voice.

  “How do you think I feel seeing him every day? He’s the reason Brian isn’t here anymore.”

  “You don’t know that. Joe is as harmless as a fly unless you have a football in your hand. Then he’s like a wild man. But…”

  “So you don’t believe me either?”

  “I don’t think Joe did anything to Brian. It doesn’t make sense. And just last week, you were riding in the car with both of them. I saw you. You were laughing and smiling and…”

  “Fine, Laney. Take their side.”

  “I’m not taking sides. I just think you need to stop bad-mouthing Joe to everyone. It’s making you look psychotic.”

  “Oh, okay, my boyfriend is dead because of him, and you expect me to just go on with my life?”

  “Stacy, you were talking about breaking up with Brian. Now, you are, like, making it out like you guys were going to get married or something.”

  “You just don’t understand.”

  “Come on. We’ve been friends forever. Stacy, if Joe did anything to Brian, the police will figure it out.”

  “They won’t. They don’t believe me any more than you do.”

  “Maybe it’s because it’s sounding crazier and crazier every time you say it. Look, we’ve got cheerleading practice whether you like it or not. Football practice is all the way down the field. Just don’t look down there.”

  “That’s your solution? Just ignore it and it’ll go away? Brilliant.”

  “Stacy, wait.”

  Amelia held her breath and listened. The girl who went by the name Laney mumbled a couple of colorful words under her breath about Stacy and then used the sink. Amelia had nothing to lose, so she flushed the toilet and came out of the stall.

  “Oh gosh. I didn’t know anyone was in here,” the girl said, tugging at the hem of her cheerleading skirt.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Amelia said soothingly as she went to a sink to wash her hands. “You aren’t the first person I’ve run into at school over the past few days who’s having a rough time. You were friends with Brian?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded suspiciously.

  “I’m Amelia. I’m organizing the bake sale for the art-club fundraiser.”

  “Oh, yeah, and the donation in Brian’s name. Sure.” She warmed up. “I’ll definitely be buying something. Even though I shouldn’t. My thighs are huge.”

  Amelia could see the girl didn’t have an ounce of fat on her.

  “Honey, please. Trust me when I tell you that there isn’t a boy worth his salt who wouldn’t be thrilled to have you on his arm.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled.

  “Is your friend okay?”

  “Stacy? Yeah. Brian was her boyfriend. Well, they hadn’t officially broken up when he, you know.” She stuck her tongue out and tilted her head against her shoulder. “But they were fighting all the time. He did something that she said she’d never forgive him for, but she never said what. He probably forgot to call her or didn’t drive her to school or something like that.”

  “Was she that kind of girlfriend? Unappreciative?”

  “Stacy can be pretty selfish when she wants to be. She keeps saying Joe had something to do with Brian’s death, but it doesn’t make any sense. Those guys were friends even if all they did was talk smack to each other all day.”

  “That’s Joe Smarman. You don’t believe Joe was involved.”

  “I mean, maybe.” She shrugged. “But I just don’t think so.”

  “Well, these things have a way of working themselves out. Stacy might just be trying to cope and she doesn’t know how. Be patient. She’ll come around.”

  Laney nodded and gave that same suspicious smile.

  “See you at the bake sale,” she said before leaving.

  “I hope so, honey.”

  When Amelia got back to the gym, the kids were waiting.

  “Don’t go in, Mom,” Meg said. “We want you to be surprised when you bring our cupcakes tomorrow.”

  “What did you guys do?”

  “It’s all finished, Mrs. Harley,” Amy said. “You are going to love it.”

  “You’re done decorating already? I was only in the bathroom for a few minutes.”

  “Many hands make easy work,” Katherine said. She bounced on her heels with excitement.

  “Yeah, Mom. Just wait until tomorrow. You’ve got enough work to do, getting the cupcakes ready. We handled everything in there. We’ve even got the pay station set up and everything.” Adam nodded.

  “If you guys say so.”

  Amelia walked with her army of four back to Reggie’s office to give back the keys. They left the school and headed back home. Amelia had an evening of baking ahead of her. But as usual, her kids made it all worth it.

  Chapter Eleven

  When they finally arrived home, Amelia found a thick envelope stuck in her front door.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  “It’s from your dad’s law firm. Probably just some stuff for me to fill out,” Amelia lied. “You guys go ahead inside.”

  It was from John, but it wasn’t his law firm. It was from his lawyer’s law firm, and it had to do with custody of the kids. She ground her teeth as she locked the front door behind her and stomped upstairs.

  Once in her bedroom, she shut the door and sat down on the bed. Of course, half the documents were unreadable in their legalese. But the gist of it was unmistakable. John was requesting custody of the kids. Full custody.

  As she skimmed the papers, she didn’t see anything that stated a specific reason why John wanted this. That led her to believe her hunch was right. John wanted the kids so he and Jennifer could still have the freedom to come and go even with a newborn in the house.

  Her heart was pounding as she dug through her purse for her phone. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself down.

  “Don’t cry, Amelia. Don’t cry. Don’t shout. Just ask John if it’s true that Jennifer is pregnant. If he says yes, then ask why he thinks now is a good time to take the kids when the stress of a new baby is something they are not prepared for? That’s good. Just ask him that. Don’t say anything else. Stay calm.” She dialed his number and waited as it rang.

  “Hello,” John barked as usual.

  “John, why did you have this stuff from your lawyer just dropped here?”

  “Amelia, I said I was serious. You didn’t want to talk. Now you can talk through my lawyer.”

  “When is the baby due?”

  “What?”

  Amelia knew she’d hit a n
erve. Jennifer was pregnant, and John wasn’t going to tell her.

  “Jennifer’s baby, John. Please don’t play stupid. When is the baby due?”

  It was quiet on the other end of the phone. It was obvious the element of surprise was squelched.

  “May.” John cleared his throat.

  “And why would you want Adam and Meg to move in when a new baby is about to arrive, subjecting them to sleepless nights and the stress of newborn responsibilities?”

  Again, there was no reply.

  “You weren’t even going to say anything. If I hadn’t found out on my own, you wouldn’t have said anything until the kids were at your house. You’ve done some low things, John, but this is by far the worst.”

  “Amelia, it isn’t what you think.”

  “Really? Tell me. What am I missing here?”

  “I… can’t talk about it now.”

  “Jennifer will hear you? You can assure her you are not cheating on her with your ex-wife. I wouldn’t have you if you were dipped in chocolate.”

  “No. That’s not it. I just…”

  “Need time to come up with plan B. I’ll tell you what, John. Since I’ve got these papers, that means my attorney does too. We’ll just talk about this in front of the judge.”

  Amelia hung up the phone and then started to cry. Not like before, when she sobbed and sobbed until her chest ached. No. She sat with tears in her eyes more out of frustration than sadness or fear.

  Before she could get too distracted, her phone rang. It was John.

  “Nope,” she said, swiping the decline button. “I’ve got a bake sale to deal with. You can wait. You can wait until…” She looked at the legal documents. “October tenth at ten o’clock in the morning.”

  She folded the documents up, stuffed them back in her purse, wiped her eyes, and went downstairs.

  “We’re ready, Mom,” Adam said.

  “Oh, you’re both helping?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?” he replied as Meg slipped a hot-pink apron over her brother’s head. “How do I look?”

  “You should wear that to prom,” Meg teased. “Of course, you’d have to get a date first. Good luck.”

  “You know, I think one of those paper bags will just about cover your head. You’ll get a date for sure that way,” Adam returned the volley.

  “All right, you two. No fighting in the kitchen. It’ll make the cupcakes taste bad.”

  “Is that true?” Meg asked.

  “Yes. Remember that time I tried to make Girl Scout Surprise and you both hated it?”

  “That stuff was gross. It was green beans and potatoes with hamburger meat all tossed together in tinfoil.”

  “Yup. All kinds of things that taste good. But you guys were fighting and whining, so you ruined it. It’s all your fault it didn’t turn out. I hope you are happy.”

  “No way!” Adam snapped.

  “That’s not true. That stuff was gross!” Meg squealed.

  “Well, when you curse it with bad behavior, yeah,” Amelia said with a serious face. “But that’s what happens when I let you go too long without a beating. Beatings will resume tonight.”

  They all laughed. Before long, the kitchen was warm from the oven. The batter for the cakes was being made. The ingredients for the frosting were set out. It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang and Dan came in. Before she said hello, Meg had a hot-pink apron over his head, as well.

  “Do you guys have any homework?” Amelia asked, pointing to the clock, which read nine thirty.”

  “I can get mine done in study hall,” Adam said.

  “I’ll finish mine in the morning.” Meg yawned.

  Well, I’ll finish these up. You guys were a great help. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

  “What about the frosting?”

  “I’ll handle that,” Amelia said. “Dan, you’ll help, right?”

  “Frost cupcakes?” he said as if she’d offered him a spider to hold. “That may not be a good idea. It’s better if you do the baking and I do the eating.” He patted his stomach, which was anything but pudgy.

  After sending the kids to bed with a kiss and pulling up a chair for Dan to be comfortable, Amelia told him about the conversation she overheard with Laney and Stacy.

  “That’s interesting. I had a feeling it might be smart to talk to that Stacy girl again. I think I’ll pay the school one last visit on Monday and see what I can shake loose.”

  “I’d let Stacy see you pull Laney aside. Sometimes a little fear is all you need to get the rest of the story.”

  “I like the way you think, lady.”

  “You’re going to come to the bake sale tomorrow, right?” Amelia said as she whipped together the frosting. Her hands moved mechanically, as she’d made buttercream frosting a thousand times before. The real pizzazz wouldn’t come until the end when she colored them. “I know it would mean a lot to Meg. Half the proceeds are going to the art club.”

  “She loves art club.” Dan smiled. Since Amelia had met him, Dan had never been a gushy, smiley kind of guy. “Yeah, of course I’ll stop by and buy something. I hope she doesn’t mind if it’s just a couple of her mom’s cupcakes.” He winked.

  “You’re so good to us, Dan.” Amelia’s eyes watered again. “I know it’s sophomoric, but I wish I had met you first.”

  Dan understood what she meant. He didn’t move or smirk but looked at her as his own eyes welled up. But not a tear fell. As quickly as the emotion surfaced, it was gone. But Amelia saw it. It meant more to her than dozens of roses or an eight-carat ring or a hundred quick I love yous.

  “I find it rather fitting considering all the sophomores we have been dealing with the past several days,” he quipped.

  Amelia chuckled and shook her head, pushing a bowl and spoon in front of him.

  “Stir,” she ordered.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve got to get my airbrush ready.”

  “Airbrush?”

  “I’m representing the Pink Cupcake. I can’t let Granny’s lemon tart upstage me, can I?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Amelia was up early again. The papers John had delivered were done in haste. She knew it. He hadn’t thought his actions through, and she was sure he hadn’t counted on her knowing anything about Jennifer’s pregnancy. It was the sound of his voice. There were very few times in their marriage when John was unsure of himself. But he always betrayed that insecurity in the sound of his voice. When she heard that, it was like a shot of adrenaline during the last mile of a marathon.

  It didn’t mean she was going to beat him in this custody fight. It didn’t mean things weren’t going to get ugly. But it meant he wasn’t as sure of himself as he pretended to be. That was enough of a chink in the armor for Amelia.

  When she was finally dressed, she heard Meg stirring in her room. It was like Christmas morning for her. That made Amelia happy but also gave her a bitter reality check. No matter what happened with John, no matter how things played out, it was important to not just keep the kids out of it but to play along.

  Amelia refused to allow John and herself to become one of those divorced couples. She didn’t want to become the kind of people that swore at each other, left vulgar or threatening messages on voicemail, or bad-mouthed one another to the kids. John was not a hero. The longer he and Jennifer were together, the further he was getting from Adam and Meg. It didn’t make him evil. It made him typical. To Amelia, it made him pathetic. But she’d never tell the kids that. They would learn that, although John had changed, it was only because he had already helped create the most beautiful, perfect things in his life.

  She marked the court date in her calendar then left her bedroom, the legal documents, and all thoughts of John behind. That day was going to be about the kids.

  “I’ll take two boxes,” Meg offered as she jumped out of the back seat of the truck. “Adam, you can get the rest.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, yaw
ning and scratching his head.

  “The dolly is back there, honey, so you can just load them on that,” Amelia said.

  When Amelia walked into the gym, she gasped. In the short amount of time she had slipped away just to go to the bathroom and have a quick chat with Laney What’s-Her-Face, they’d transformed the entire gym.

  Each table was covered with alternating tablecloths in red, white, and black. Sparkly table decorations were on each one along with confetti across the tabletops. The banners they had initially unrolled were hanging on every vacant section of wall. There were even a couple of handmade posters promoting the bake sale.

  “This looks fantastic!” Amelia gushed. “Where did those posters come from?”

  “We made them in art club. We asked Mr. Moss to put them up as a surprise for you after we left,” Meg said. “He assigned all the tables and put up the payment station so people can use cash or credit cards. Pretty cool, right?” Meg nodded to the table where people could pay. It was decorated with dollar signs and a big board that read “PAY HERE.”

  “Perfect.” Amelia bumped her daughter with her hip. “Where is my table?”

  There were already a dozen people setting up their tables with fabulous-looking desserts. Kids too young to be in high school as well as some of Meg’s classmates were darting around, either playing or helping get things organized.

  Meg walked over to the bulletin board that had half a dozen notices on it. There were people looking for babysitters, a notice for carpooling, and the schedule of which grades were responsible for lunch cleanup that week.

  “Here it is.” Meg pointed again with her head. “Lucky number thirteen.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “Find thirteen.”

  Amelia and Meg scanned the tables, and as it turned out, being number thirteen was lucky, indeed. It was right in the middle of the rows. No one would miss their table.

  “Reggie did this on purpose.”

  “Mom!” Meg huffed. “Your hands!”

  “You’re just noticing this now?” Amelia held up her hands as if she were showcasing bejeweled fingers. They were stained a purple color, but it looked as if they were bruised. “I had a little mishap with the coloring.”