Bake Sale for Murder Page 9

  “If you had kept your eyes on your work and not Dan, maybe that wouldn’t have happened,” Meg teased as she studied her mother’s hands.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. That’s so,” Meg continued, smirking. “Well, it looks weird, but Katherine’s dad has eczema, and that doesn’t stop him from serving the spaghetti at half a dozen fundraisers.” Meg smiled and said hello to a few kids who walked past her, talking loudly and giggling. “Besides, everyone has been waiting for these. I’ve been telling the entire school all week that you were baking the most delicious, smooth red-velvet cupcakes with fancy buttercream frosting. Katherine is going to freak. She loves red-velvet cake.”

  “I hope so. Do me a favor.” Amelia took the two hot-pink boxes from her daughter. “Go check and make sure your brother isn’t having any trouble with the other boxes.”

  “Okay. This is so exciting.” Meg clapped then hurried back the way they’d come.

  Amelia chuckled. She looked at the number thirteen, and even though she had been feeling better that morning, John still had a way of ruining things.

  Before starting to unpack her cupcakes, she thought she’d introduce herself to the people already there since she was the one who’d called them, asking for help. Slowly, she strolled up and down the aisles and checked out the competition. Some people had pies or cakes. Rice Krispies treats were always a favorite among the fourteen- to eighteen-year-old demographic. On the table behind Amelia’s was a very creative display that offered a banana, an orange, and an apple in a plastic bag tied with red and black ribbons.

  “What a clever idea,” Amelia said to the woman standing behind the table.

  “Thanks. I can’t bake at all, but I wanted to help out. I figured there might be a couple of girls who are on diets and will shy away from the gooey stuff. In a sea of teenagers, you’re bound to have a couple of weirdos,” she said behind her hand as if she were letting Amelia in on a secret. Her laugh was bubbly and ended in a snort. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Amelia laughed and tried not to stare at the gigantic diamond ring she had on her plump ring finger.

  “My name is Mae Weatherfellow.” She stuck out her hand.

  “I’m Amelia Harley. We spoke on the phone.”

  “Right. I think I promised to bring something.”

  “You did, and this is great!” Amelia was truly encouraged. “It’s a really unique idea. I love it.”

  “I’m glad. With the colds going around too.” Mae rolled her eyes.

  “I know. I just got over a real doozy of a cold myself.”

  “You should probably take these too.” She handed Amelia a bag of fruit. “The vitamin C will do you good.”

  “I really appreciate it, Mae. Thanks.” Amelia took the baggie. “Hey, one good turn deserves another. Come. Have one of my cupcakes.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” She giggle-snorted again while following Amelia. Before she could reach the table in the middle, two boys came running in Amelia’s direction.

  “Mom! Can we go to the library after this?” The boys towered over Mae Weatherfellow. How such a short, stocky woman could have pushed those two giants through her birth canal was a mystery Amelia ranked up there with Stonehenge and Area 51.

  The first boy had Mae’s pug nose and a crew cut of blond hair. The second had more defined cheekbones and rampant freckles.

  “What’s at the library?” Mae asked with the most serious mom tone.

  “They are having a game night with Leviathan Five and Bounty,” the freckled boy replied.

  “Zach and Tieg are going,” the pug-nosed boy said with pleading eyes.

  “I don’t know if those games are on our approved-play list,” Mae replied as if she were a general discussing missile launch codes.

  “Please, Mom. There isn’t anything bad in them. Leviathan Five is about a deep-sea dive for treasure, and there are monsters under the water. That’s all.”

  “What about Bounty?” She looked at both boys as though they were on trial.

  “Well.” The pug-nosed boy stuttered for a moment. “It’s got some blood in it because you are hunting bad guys, but it takes place during the Robin Hood era.”

  “Robin Hood was fictitious. You mean the Middle Ages,” Mae snapped as she straightened her blouse. She took a deep breath, looked up at both boys, and then put her hands on her hips. “You get those friends of yours to come buy some fruit, and you can go. But I will be looking into these two games. If I find out they should be on our no-play list, you know what will happen.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boys said in unison.

  “Fine. You can go. Get Tieg to give you a ride home.”

  Both boys thanked their mother and kissed her quickly on the cheek before dashing off to share the good news with their friends.

  “You’ve got to be so careful with kids these days,” Mae said to Amelia.

  “Right. What grade are your boys in?”

  “They are both freshmen. Twins.”

  “Yikes! I hope they’ve finished with their growth spurts.” Amelia smiled.

  “My oldest is a junior. He towers over those two. But all of them know Mama doesn’t play.” Mae put her hands on her hips. “I’ll beat them within an inch of their lives if I find out they are doing something they aren’t supposed to. But I have to be this way. Look at me. I’m four feet eleven. I tell my boys, ‘I’m not your friend. I’m your mother. I’ll tell you when you’re doing something stupid.’”

  Amelia couldn’t help but like Mae.

  “I can’t stand those women who want to be their kids’ friends. Kids are dumb. They’ve been on the planet fifteen, sixteen years. Why would I ever listen to anything they have to say?”

  Amelia found herself giggling at everything Mae was saying. Just then, she saw her own children coming down the aisle. Adam had a dolly loaded with hot-pink boxes. Meg had located her best friend, Katherine, and they were chatting away as if they’d both been stuck on separate desert islands for the past year.

  “Any trouble?” Amelia asked.

  “Adam dropped one box,” Meg tattled.

  “Just one, you little snitch,” Adam replied, handing the slightly damaged pink box to his mother.

  “One casualty? I can be happy with that. Meg, would you and Katherine set them up for me? Adam, would you put the dolly back in the car?”

  Adam grunted a yes. Meg and Katherine happily chatted as they arranged the cupcakes.

  “Wow!” Mae gasped. “Those are beautiful!” Amelia had used an airbrush to color the frosting she’d shaped as petals. Using a glossy glaze, she’d coated them with hot-pink edible glitter, and she’d added three silver candy drops in the center of each bloom.

  “I’m so embarrassed about my bags of fruit. I look like the laziest mom around. Just because I am doesn’t mean I have to advertise.”

  “You don’t sound lazy to me.” Amelia waved her hand. “I own the Pink Cupcake food truck, so I do this all day, every day. This wasn’t just a one-time Martha Stewart moment.”

  “They look delicious.”

  “Here. If you don’t mind one of the casualties.” Amelia offered Mae a slightly smeared cupcake from the box Adam had dropped.

  “You know, my doctor says I don’t eat enough sweets. Don’t mind if I do.”

  “Mom, how does this look?” Meg interrupted.

  Amelia turned around and smiled.

  “It looks good. Do you think we’ll sell all of them?”

  “Yesh!” Mae answered.

  When Amelia turned around, she was shocked to see the cupcake was nothing but an empty paper cup and Mae was licking her fingers.

  “That was the most decadent red velvet I’ve ever tasted. And I’ve tasted a lot, as you can tell by looking at me.”

  Within a few minutes, every table was filled with pastries and desserts of all varieties. Amelia had made the rounds to every table, thanking everyone for helping out. She was happy that Mae was situated behind her. She sto
od close by for a few moments, enjoying the woman’s brutally honest assessments of a variety of things, mostly teenagers.

  Finally, they opened the doors, and a flood of people came in, including a couple of familiar faces. Dan quickly spotted Amelia and took Lila by the hand to lead her along with him.

  “Hi, Dan! Hi, Auntie Lila!” Meg squealed, racing off to give them both hugs. She babbled on and on about something before she brought them back to the table.

  “Thanks for coming, guys,” Amelia said.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Lila said, making herself at home behind the table. She quickly took charge with the girls and dove in to some new story about the one time in her life she decided to bake something.

  “You can cook for a man, but never do it too well unless you never want to be taken out for dinner again.” She laughed.

  “Looks great, Amelia,” Dan whispered before kissing her on the head.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to have a look around.”

  Amelia nodded and watched him walk off into the crowd.

  “You’d think these people hadn’t eaten in a week,” Mae muttered, again making Amelia laugh.

  Meg and Katherine were wild, saying hello to everyone and up-selling the cupcakes. Not that they needed to. People gasped and pointed when they saw Amelia’s creations. With the dainty things only going for two dollars apiece, as opposed to the five dollars she charged on the truck, it took no time for half the inventory to be scooped up.

  “I smell coffee,” Amelia said. “Mae, would you like a cup of joe?”

  “It’s like we have one brain,” she replied. “Sure.”

  “I’ll get us some.”

  As Amelia wove her way through the crowd, she caught a glimpse of Stacy. The girl looked angry. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was shifting from one foot to another. Who was she waiting for?

  “Stacy?” Amelia approached her carefully, as if she were reaching out to pet a skittish cat. “Amelia. I spoke with you at the football game.”

  Stacy thought for a moment and then forced a smile. She was wearing jeans that left very little to the imagination and a snug T-shirt with the school mascot on it. She slung a Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder and tugged at her hair again. Again, her makeup was a little heavy, and it looked as if she’d been crying. Either that, or the heavy makeup was making her eyes water.

  “How are you, honey? Feeling any better?”

  “I’m doing okay,” she said, flipping her hair behind her. “I’m fine. I just wish I didn’t have to be here. But they made a special announcement that the cheerleading squad and the junior varsity and varsity football players had to come.”

  “So Joe will be here?”

  “Who?” She looked at Amelia, and then a light clicked on. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure. They haven’t arrested him yet, so he’ll be here. Not that they are ever going to.”

  “Stacy, what makes you so sure it was Joe who hurt Brian? The only reason I ask is because when I talked to him, Joe really seemed to miss Brian.”

  “He hated Brian!’ Stacy snapped. “I’m telling you they hated each other!” Her voice was high-pitched and loud.

  “Is everything all right, Stacy?” a woman came out of nowhere and looked Amelia up and down. Amelia couldn’t help but do the same to her.

  “Mom, just stop!”

  Mom? Amelia could see the resemblance in the faces of the two females. But Stacy’s mom was not what she would have expected. She was wearing a pair of similarly painted-on skinny jeans with leopard stiletto heels. Her blouse was off the shoulders, revealing more than one tattoo, and her hair was frosted and layered in a way that required she flip it behind her as often as Stacy did. Her acrylic nails were more like talons, and the makeup she wore would have been better suited for an evening on the red carpet than the high school bake sale.

  “What did you say to my daughter?”

  “I-I just asked if she was doing okay,” Amelia stammered.

  “My daughter’s well-being is none of your business.” She stomped up to Stacy and put her arm around her daughter. “She’s been through enough without some busybody trying to get some gossip or have a cheap thrill.”

  “What?” Amelia batted her eyes. She had to have heard the woman wrong. “I’m sorry. With everything that’s happened, I just thought I could help.”

  She watched as Stacy shrugged her mother’s arm off her shoulder.

  “We don’t need your help,” Mrs. Arlings hissed.

  “Stacy, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Amelia started.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” Stacy’s mom took a step forward. Amelia didn’t move. “Leave her alone.”

  “Mom!” Stacy shouted. “Stop it! You’re embarrassing me!”

  Amelia raised her hands in surrender, but her gaze toward Stacy and then at her mother made it very clear she was doing it for the girl and not out of fear.

  “Some people just want to know your business, Stacy,” Mrs. Arlings said loudly. “You can’t trust them!”

  “Shut up, Mom!” Stacy recoiled when her mother reached for her as if she’d extended a tentacle and not a hand. “This is your fault!”

  Mrs. Arlings looked around at everyone watching. She stopped, dropped her hip, and pointed one of her long French-manicured nails at Amelia. “See what you’ve done? Are you happy now?” She clenched her jaw. “You’ve got some nerve upsetting my daughter when she’s been through—”

  “Don’t yell at her! You know it’s all your fault!” Stacy kept shouting.

  “All right. Let’s get going.” Mrs. Arlings reached for her daughter’s arm, but Stacy shrugged it away.

  “I can’t do this! I can’t keep saying it!”

  “Saying what, Stacy?” Amelia asked. By now, half the gym was watching the exchange take place.

  “I told you to shut your mouth. If you don’t, I’ll shut it for you.”

  “What?” Amelia squinted. “You’re a grown woman. Are you really threatening to fight me? Your daughter is in pain. What is wrong with you?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with her!” Stacy cried. Her eyes filled with tears. She pointed at her mother. “She can’t keep her hands to herself!”

  At first, Amelia thought Stacy meant her mother had hit her. That was a dangerous slippery slope to tackle. Although she never had to use the threat of violence on her own kids, she’d heard the language of some children their age. More than once, she thought a mouthful of soap or a sudden crack across the lips might teach them some manners. But it soon became clear that this wasn’t what Stacy was talking about. Not at all. Not even close.

  “She wants me to keep telling everyone Joe Smarman killed Brian! Joe, who I swear has trouble tying his own shoes! Joe goes to church with his family every weekend! Not like mine,” Stacy hissed at her mother.

  Amelia decided now was a good time to take a step back.

  “No. My dad is too busy flying his girlfriend and their new baby across the country for vacation. And my mom…”

  Mrs. Arlings was about to rush her daughter. She was actually going to charge the girl, but it was too late. Stacy stepped back and pointed her own French-manicured nail at her mother.

  “My mom told me Brian was no good for me. He was not going to be a pro ball player. He was stupid and just a jock. He wasn’t worth keeping around. She said he was a loser. She said all this before she slept with him. My mother was too busy sleeping with my boyfriend to worry about me. While I was at work at Hot Topic. She was sleeping with my boyfriend! But now she wants me to blame Joe Smarman. She wants me to tell everyone he killed Brian. It was me! I killed Brian!” The girl began to cry hysterically. “I did it! He said he wanted to be with my mom! How gross is that? And she didn’t care. He was eighteen, she said! He could make up his own mind. Isn’t that right, Mom?”

  “Oh boy.” Amelia couldn’t watch any more. She walked up to Stacy, leaving Mrs. Arlings standing there staring at her daughter in sho
ck. “It’s okay, honey.” Looking up, Amelia saw Dan and another plainclothes officer approaching.

  “It’s legal!” Mrs. Arlings yelled. She actually had a grin on her face. “He was of age. It was all legal. We didn’t do anything until after he turned eighteen.”

  “Mom! Do you really think you are making it better?” Stacy gasped.

  “You have to understand something, Stacy. Things happen, and—”

  “You’re disgusting! I’d rather be in jail than live in the same house as you!” Finally, Stacy broke down in real sobs. Only finally getting a burden too heavy to carry off your chest produced sobs like these. She clung to Amelia, who held her close and smoothed her hair. When Dan approached, he looked at Mrs. Arlings first.

  “We’ll need you to come with us,” he said as the other officer stood next to Mrs. Arlings, making sure she didn’t try to make a break for it in her high heels.

  “Stacy?” Amelia said soothingly. “This is Detective Dan Walishovski. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll help you.”

  “I don’t deserve it!” Stacy cried.

  “Yes, you do, honey,” Amelia said, looking Stacy in the eyes.

  All she saw was a little girl. Technically, eighteen was considered an adult, but that wasn’t really the case. Stacy was only three years and a couple months older than Meg. It broke Amelia’s heart to see her led away like that. Her mother was mumbling something about teenagers and mix-ups and shaking her head so her frosted blond hair fell in her face.

  “That one is in another world.”

  Amelia turned to see Mae Weatherfellow standing next to her, nodding toward Mrs. Arlings.

  “I like you, Harley. This is the best bake sale I’ve ever been to. Pencil me in for next year.”

  Amelia chuckled.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What a day,” Adam said as he walked into the house after the bake sale. “Those people all should have been charged extra. They got a meal and a show.”

  “I can’t believe we beat the cheerleaders’ fundraiser,” Meg said. “They made four hundred dollars at their car wash. We made nine hundred dollars. Mo’ money!”