Battered to Death (Daphne Martin Cake Mysteries) (21 page)

M
ARK,
M
YRA,
Ben, and I went back to the demonstration area where the awards ceremony would soon take place. I’d just started looking around for Violet when I heard her call my name.

“Over here!” She, Jason, Leslie, and Lucas were sitting on the risers midway up with Molly, Chris, and Alex.

The four of us climbed up to sit in front of them. I was directly in front of Leslie, and she bent forward and put her arms around my neck.

“I know, sweetheart,” I said. “But no matter what happens, we’ll use this competition as a learning experience and grow from it.”

“And if you don’t win, you can always say that the judges were idiots or that the other competitors bought them off,” said Myra.

I closed my eyes.
Way to come in there with a lesson on good sportsmanship, Myra.

“At least, that’s what I’ve always told myself over the years when I entered and lost contests,” she continued. “It makes me feel better and keeps me from beating myself up over it.”

I patted Leslie’s arm and subtly shook my head, hoping that Leslie would catch on that I was telling her not to take Myra’s advice. I needn’t have worried. Supermom Violet stepped in.

“Whether you win or lose, darling, you created a beautiful cake,” she said. “We’re all very proud of the work you’ve done, and I hope you are too. If we were the judges, you’d most certainly win. But all forms of art are subjective, and the judges might look at things differently.”

“Plus, they’re not biased,” said Lucas. “Or, at least, they’re not supposed to be. Part of the reason we think you and Aunt Daphne have the best cakes here is because you’re family. Right, Dad?”

Fortunately, Fiona and Lou Gimmel waved to us at that moment as they made their way up the risers toward us, thus ending the awkward conversation about winning and losing.

“May we join you?” Lou asked.

“Of course,” I said.

Leslie straightened back up, and Ben and I moved over to make room for the two newcomers.

“We heard about Pauline,” said Fiona. “Someone said you went to the hospital to check on her. Is she okay?”

“Is she the one we saw the paramedics leaving with?” Molly asked.

“Yes,” I answered Molly. “She accidentally stuck herself with a piece of floral wire this morning and had to have a tetanus shot. She apparently has a congenital heart defect that made her heart race once the vaccine was administered, and she almost had a heart attack.” I looked back at Fiona. “She appears to be fine now. The hospital is just keeping her until her heart rate returns to normal.”

“I’m glad she’s okay,” said Molly.

“So am I,” said Fiona. “That’s scary. Do you suppose she’d never had a tetanus shot before? You’d think a woman her age would’ve had at least one before now.”

I shrugged.

“I . . . I didn’t ask,” I said. “Ben, did you?”

He simply looked at me with amusement, refusing to justify my question with a response.

Kimmie Compton stepped out into the center of the demonstration area. Gavin Conroy’s makeshift memorial had been moved aside to make room for the trophies, plaques, and certificates to be awarded the winners.

“Thank you all for being a part of our first annual Brea Ridge Taste Bud Temptation Cake and Confectionary Arts Exhibit and Competition,” said Ms. Compton. “We appreciate all our sponsors, our competitors, and our spectators for making this event such a resounding success. We’d especially like to express our thanks to those spectators who voted for cakes with their pennies. Those pennies will be donated to the local food bank and, given the number of filled cups, we think they will amount to a significant contribution.”

Ms. Compton paused to allow the audience’s applause to die down before continuing.

We all applauded as Kelly Anderson came forward to accept her plaque and prize basket.

“Our second-place winner is Brandon Campbell,” said Ms. Compton.

Again, we applauded while Brandon went forward to claim his prizes. Our hands were going to be sore before all the winners had been announced.

“And, our first place winner in the beginners’ category is Pam Barnett.”

Myra gasped. “Pam Barnett is most definitely
not
a beginner! She’s been decorating cakes for years! What a liar and a cheat! I should yell ‘fraud.’ ”

“Please don’t,” I said.

Still, Myra fussed, and Mark and I tried to shush her. Mark finally persuaded her to lower her voice by saying that karma would come back to bite Pam in the derriere. That seemed to satisfy Myra for the moment.

“Another round of applause, please, for all our entrants and winners in the beginners category before we move on to the junior category,” Ms. Compton said.

As I applauded, I felt Leslie’s bony fingers dig into my shoulders.

Her little chin—also bony—joined her fingers on my right shoulder. It stayed there until the winners of third and second place in the junior category were announced. The fingers tightened as Ms. Compton started to announce the first-place winner:

“Leslie Armstrong.”

She’d won! She and I emitted simultaneous squeals of delight. The rest of our group cheered.

“Go, go, go!” I said. “But be careful going down these steps.” I felt tears prick my eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

As Leslie navigated the risers to make her way to the demonstration table, where her trophy and prize basket awaited, Ben put an arm around me, pulled me close, and kissed my cheek.

“You know, even if I don’t win, her winning has made this competition a wonderful experience for me,” I said. “All things considered.”

“I do know,” Ben said. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

My heart nearly skipped a beat. One of the things he
loved
about me. Was he saying he loved me . . . or only that he loved certain things
about
me?

Leslie returned with her treasures, and we all oohed and aahed over them until we missed the first winner announced in the advanced category. We applauded and tried to look contrite.

I rolled my eyes, and Molly giggled.

The other two winners in the advanced category were announced. These decorators were those who were skilled in decorating but who weren’t professionals. I’d never heard of any of the winners in the category, and I thought they were probably from out of town.

I hadn’t entered a cake in the professional category—only the novelty cake category and the wedding cake category. I was pleased, however, that Lou Gimmel took the top prize in the professional category and that another student from our Australian string work class took second place. It was the redhead whose name Pauline couldn’t recall. I couldn’t recall her name either and hadn’t been paying attention when it had been announced.

In the floral sugar craft category, Pauline Wilson won first place. Ms. Compton said she’d see to it that Pauline received her prizes and asked us all to keep Pauline in our thoughts and prayers as she recovered from a bad reaction to the tetanus vaccine injection she’d had that morning.

Myra harrumphed her skepticism at the reported cause of Pauline’s illness, but everyone pretended not to notice.

“Let’s move on to the novelty cake category,” said Ms. Compton. “Our third-place winner is Dana Mills.”

The second place winner was announced. It was Gavin Conroy. He accepted the prize, and I began to accept defeat. For some reason, I didn’t think I could outdo Gavin. Was I that impressed with his decorating skills, or was I intimidated by his forceful personality and his inflated opinion of himself? Thinking of his forceful personality made me wonder if it was possible that Gavin had killed Jordan Richards. When the two of them argued, their tempers had to have escalated quickly. I could well imagine either one of them taking the argument too far.

I was still pondering that possibility when Kimmie Compton called my name as the first-place winner in the novelty cake category. It didn’t really register that she’d said my name until Leslie squealed and threw her arms around my neck.

“Way to go, Aunt Daphne!” Lucas said.

I turned to look at them, and they were all smiling.

“Good,” said Alex simply.

“Thank you,” I said.

Ben squeezed my hand before I went down to accept my trophy and prize basket.

I’d barely sat back down before my name was announced again. I’d won third place in the wedding cake category.

“Our local girl is racking up the wins,” said Ms. Compton. “Congratulations, Daphne!”

I was thrilled. Of course, there was a part of me that wished I’d won first place, but third place was a huge honor. The wedding cakes in this ballroom were gorgeous and represented hundreds of hours of painstaking work.

Once again, Gavin Conroy won second place. Lou Gimmel won first place in the wedding cake category. I was so happy for Lou. He seemed to be such a nice guy.

Ms. Compton gave her closing remarks and announced that the winning cakes would be photographed before they would be released.

“After the cakes have been photographed for our website and brochures, the decorators may pick them up,” she said. “Again, I appreciate everyone coming out to lend your support of the culinary arts. Please join us again next year.”

The audience had one last round of applause in them, and then everyone began milling toward the ballroom exits. Jason and Ben helped Leslie and me carry our prizes down the risers.

“Thank you.” I fished in my purse and brought out my keys. I took one final look at my goodies before Ben turned to leave with them.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

Jason volunteered to go out with Ben, since he needed to put Leslie’s prizes in their van. Lucas decided to go along and help carry the prizes because he figured Ben and Jason could use “another guy on the job.”

I noticed that Leslie was busy talking with Alex, and—though it’s as clichéd as it gets—I commented, “They grow up so quickly.”

“Yes, they do,” Molly said. “It seems like only yesterday that Alex was taking his first steps.”

I wondered if his motor development had been delayed any by his Asperger’s syndrome, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to appear rude, and it was none of my business anyhow. Besides, the child certainly didn’t seem to have any difficulties now.

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Violet. “We went from an Easy-Bake oven to the real thing overnight.”

“I just hope this trip . . . this show . . . sets Alex back on the right track,” Chris said softly. “Think about how much time he lost after that moron Richards set him back so far.”

“I hope so too,” I said.

Chris looked at his watch. “Shouldn’t we be starting back soon?”

“I guess so,” said Molly. “I just hate to leave. We’ve had so much fun.”

Violet gave her a hug. “We’ll definitely keep in touch. If nothing else, we’ll get the kids together sometime this summer.”

“If nothing else?” Chris scoffed. “They’re going to be on that TV show. What was it called?”

“
John and Joni,
” Leslie answered. “I hope we do get on that show. It would be the coolest thing
ever
!”

Alex grinned and nodded.

I too hugged Molly and said my goodbyes to Chris and Alex. I believed some true friendships had been forged through this cake competition, and I was looking forward to seeing the three of them again. I knew Violet and her family were too.

I excused myself for a moment and went to congratulate Lou.

“You’re the man of the hour,” I said. “Congratulations!”

He swept me into a hug. “Thank you so much. I can hardly believe I did so well. The competition was fierce.”