Creamsicle Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 11 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)
Read Creamsicle Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 11 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Online
Authors: Carol Durand,Summer Prescott
Get Early Access to My Books For FREE!
Every two weeks you’ll get a new Cozy Novella
from me absolutely FREE.
Sign up now!
http://bit.ly/CarolDurand
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction.
Names,
characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of
the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015
by Maven Publishing - All rights reserved.
All rights
Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted
from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning,
photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright
holder.
Table of Contents
Cupcake
shop owner, Melissa Gladstone was practically run over by Cheryl Radigan, the
manager of her LaChance, Louisiana shop, Missy’s Muffins and More, when she
came in the door on Monday morning.
“Omigosh,
Ms. G., you had a phone call that you have to return! My heart is still
pounding, and it came in like 10 minutes ago,” Cheryl was breathless and
practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“Whoa,
slow down there, girl,” Missy teased. “What has you so worked up on this fine
Louisiana morning?” she asked, heading for the gleaming commercial kitchen.
“You
will not believe who called here asking for you this morning,” she said,
bursting to blurt out the info.
“Santa
Claus?” Missy asked, flipping through her recipe book and deciding to create a
new recipe for tomorrow’s Cupcake of the Day.
“Ms.
G.! I’m serious, this is really important,” Cheryl insisted, frustrated at the
owner’s distracted air.
Missy
put the book down and grinned indulgently. “Fine, who called, my dear?”
Cheryl’s
eyes sparkled as she finally had the opening to break her exciting news. “A
representative from the office of Ivana Cherie,” she announced, smugly.
“Yvonne
who?” Missy raised an eyebrow, clearly out of touch with popular culture.
“Are
you serious?” her manager was astounded. “You’ve never heard of Ivana Cherie???
She’s like, the hottest thing in Hollywood!”
“Hmm…that’s
interesting. Why on earth would a representative of someone from Hollywood be
calling me?” she wondered aloud.
“Wow,
how can you be so young and cool and not know anything about this stuff?”
Cheryl asked, shaking her head.
“You
called me young and cool, remind me to give you a raise,” the fortysomething
blonde joked.
“Don’t
worry, I will. Ivana Cherie is going to be filming a movie here, starting in a
couple of weeks. You need to call her rep back – they may want to use the shop
for a scene or something, wow, wouldn’t that be amazing!” the star-struck girl
gushed.
“Umm…I’m
thinking no,” Missy looked at her manager pointedly. “This is a business, not a
movie set. We have a responsibility to our customers.”
“But
what if it makes you famous? You could think of it as free advertising!”
“Famous?
No, thank you. I’ve gotten through life just fine so far without paparazzi
following my every move and I’d like to keep it that way,” she shook her head.
“Fine,”
Cheryl sulked. “But will you at least just call her back?” she pleaded.
“Of
course. I’m a professional,” Missy winked at her frustrated manager, taking the
message from her hand.
As
it turned out, Miss Cherie’s assistant, Lola, was very pleasant. The reason for
her call was her employer’s “pretty obsessive” relationship with cupcakes.
Apparently, the diva eats three cupcakes a day, which, judging by her online
photos, means she must work out several times a day as well. Her rules
regarding her cupcake consumption were fixed and immovable. She refused to eat
the same flavor of cupcake twice in one week, the baking cups used had to be
foil, not paper, and had to be a color that was compatible with the cupcake, no
plain silver foil was allowed. She liked granular sugar sprinkles, but no
powdered sugar, under any circumstances, and any frosting had to be swirled,
not spread. Missy had some serious misgivings about working with someone who
was so particular, but had changed her mind when she heard the weekly sum that
would be paid for her services.
When
Missy agreed to be interviewed as a prospective cupcake provider, Lola set up a
time to fly out to meet her and do a tasting on behalf of Ivana. The star’s
assistant was required to sample no fewer than twenty-one flavors and/or
varieties, because filming was expected to take at least three weeks, and there
had to be an adequate variety available. Missy would be generously compensated
for the tasting and her time, so, shaking her head in amusement, she agreed to
take the appointment.
“Good
morning, Miss Gladstone, I’m Lola Allure, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the
most beautiful ebony-skinned woman she’d ever seen purred, extending a
perfectly manicured hand.
Cheryl
was watching wide-eyed from behind the front counter, trying not to gawk at the
elegant woman or the sleek white limousine in which she had arrived. Missy had
set up the tasting on one of the spotless stainless steel counters in the
kitchen. Each flavor of cupcake was in a foil cup that complemented the
frosting, the frosting was swirled, as directed, and there was no powdered
sugar to be found.
“Thank
you for taking the time to do this,” Lola smiled. “These look absolutely
delicious, she commented, taking in the lovely display of culinary art.
“My
pleasure, I hope you enjoy them.”
“I’ll
be hitting the treadmill at the hotel, for sure,” the assistant giggled. “But
oh my, it’s going to be worth it.”
Each
cupcake had a placard in front of it with the name and flavor details. Moving
first to “Margarita Madness,” Lola took a photo, picked up the cupcake and took
a delicate bite.
“Oh
my goodness, are the green sprinkles on top little salt crystals?” she asked,
impressed.
Missy
nodded.
“I
love this! I think Ivana is going to be so pleased if the others are even half
this good,” she said, making notes on her phone while blotting at her lips with
a napkin.
“Would
you like some coffee? Or ice water?” Missy offered.
“Both,
please,” she requested, moving along the line of cupcakes to the Carob
Cappuccino Cream, having a similar reaction when she tasted it. She informed
Missy after trying just three, that they would definitely be extending her an
offer to do business during filming, then proceeded to try the rest of the
flavors.
“Melissa,
there was not one cupcake here that is anything but spectacular,” she beamed,
obviously pleased. “I will speak to Ivana, and send over a contract upon my
return, thank you so much for your time.”
“My
pleasure,” Missy smiled and showed her out, a bit stunned that she was going to
be providing cupcakes to a movie star for three weeks and making as much money
as she did in six months of regular business.
Cheryl
and the rest of Missy’s staff, at both stores, were thrilled to hear that they
were going to be providing cupcakes for an internationally-known movie star,
and speculated wildly about what she’d be like and the chances they might have
of being cast as an extra. Missy assured them that, with the extra demand that
would be created by having a movie filmed in their town, she’d need them to
help out at the shops, rather than standing around for hours on end at a movie
set.
**
“Cupcakes
for the stars…what a concept,” Detective Chas Beckett, Missy’s handsome,
lantern-jawed Significant Other, teased.
“I’ve
never even met anyone famous,” Missy sighed. “I have no idea how to cater to
the tastes of these people.”
“Well,
from what you told me, her assistant was pretty impressed. You’re an amazing
cupcake artist, my beautiful baker, just do what you do and she’s sure to love
it. Besides, celebrities are just human beings. How different can Ivana Cherie
be if she eats cupcakes just like the rest of us?” he shrugged.
“Hmm…after
speaking with her assistant, I’m thinking that she just may eat hers with a
platinum knife and fork,” Missy made a face.
“Which
is none of your concern,” he reminded her gently. “If she eats the cupcakes and
likes them, then you’ve done your job and done it well, as always,” he smiled
tenderly, kissing her temple.
“The
good news is that the production company wants several dozen cupcakes every day
too, and they’re not nearly as particular. Ivana has, of course, insisted that
the flavors of her daily three cupcakes must be different from those of the
production crew. I could very well go crazy by the end of this movie,” she
smiled, shaking her head.
“Nahhh…you’ll
be fine, you always are, despite your worrying,” he teased lightly. “What’s the
movie about anyway?”
“I’m
not exactly sure, I think Cheryl said something about it being a pretty gory
horror flick,” she shuddered.
“Oh
great, that’s just what we need,” Chas sighed, grimacing.
“What
do you mean?” Missy’s brow furrowed.
“Typically
there are some pretty unusual types of folks that hang around during the
production of those types of films. People who believe in blood sacrifice, evil
spirits, all sorts of superstitions and dark acts. I should’ve known when the
chief of police started calling other parishes for support during filming.”
“That
won’t affect you at all, will it?” Missy asked, concerned.
“No,
it’ll only affect me if a crime is committed. The production company has
private security, and we’ll have uniforms doing drive-by checks periodically,”
he explained. “Well, beautiful, I need to get going, but I’ll see you tonight,”
he promised, kissing her soundly.
She
stared after him, counting her blessings that she had the good fortune to be in
love with such an amazing human being.
Missy
had never had this particular kind of stomach-rattling nervousness quite so
early on a Thursday morning that she could recall. The production company for
the new Ivana Cherie movie,
Whispers of Blood,
had arrived on Monday,
and the renowned actress herself was due on the set today. The cupcake menu of
the day for the diva included the Margarita Madness cupcake that Ivana’s assistant
had raved about, a Coconut Dream, and a Honey-Lavender Delight. Each cupcake
had been graced with foil in colors that were sure to please, and all of the
specifics that had been dictated as to their presentation had been strictly
followed.
Each
cupcake had its own special box, also in a complementary color, that had been
tied with satin ribbon and featured a card with the name of the cupcake on it.
Bracing herself, Missy carefully placed the individual boxes into a larger box
for transport and drove out into the bayou, where the movie was currently being
filmed. The lack of morning breeze promised a sweltering Louisiana day, and
Missy was glad that she’d had the foresight to pack the cupcakes in an
insulated box for transport. Ben, the manager of her Dellville store, was
bringing several boxes over a bit later for the crew.
Stepping
out of the car, Missy followed the directions that Lola, Ivana’s assistant had
given her, and found the front gate. A security guard checked a list for her
name, and when he found it, lifted the chain barring access to the site and
gave her directions to Ivana’s trailer. She had hoped that she’d be able to
simply drop off the cupcakes with an aide or something, in order to avoid the possibility
of being perceived as a tongue-tied rube in the face of Hollywood royalty, but
apparently that was not going to be the case. Taking a deep breath and
straightening her shoulders, Missy knocked on the door of the magnificent motor
home to which the gate guard had directed her.
“What?”
a wild-haired, diminutive bleach-blonde with a mud-pack on her face snapped,
after yanking open the door.
Missy
was non-plussed. “Umm…hello,” she stammered, having expected Lola to answer the
door and not certain what to do next. “I…uh…I’m Melissa Gladstone, and I’m
dropping off some cupcakes for Ivana Cherie. Is she here?”
The
blonde woman at the door raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not pleased. “I’m
Ivana Cherie, you ninny,” she exclaimed rudely, snatching the box from Missy’s
hands. “Seriously, how could you not have known that?” She slammed the door in
Missy’s face muttering something about hicks living under rocks. Missy was
astonished at the audacity of the nasty little woman. For a moment, she was
tempted to knock on the door and give the diva a piece of her mind and a crash
course in southern hospitality, but she thought better of it, grimly
remembering the exorbitant sum that she was being paid for three cupcakes per
day.
Still
stunned by the less than positive interaction, Missy wasn’t paying attention to
where she was going, and digging into her purse for her keys, she stumbled hard
into a very tall, well-built man. Looking up to apologize, she was utterly
horrified. The man had a huge gash in his cheek, what looked like a sucking
chest wound on his right side, and was totally covered in blood. Oddly, he
smiled at her when she screamed, and suddenly the world went black.
When
she came out of her faint a few minutes later, the horribly injured man was
crouched down next to her, looking at her with concern. Startled again by his
appearance, she sat up quickly and clamped her hands over her mouth trying not
to scream again.
“Hey,”
the man said softly, putting his hands up as though surrendering. “It’s okay,
gorgeous, this isn’t real. I’m perfectly fine, it’s just stage blood. We’re
filming a movie here, okay?” he explained with a smile. He was really quite
attractive under all the gore, and Missy felt a flush rising from the base of
her neck all the way up to the tips of her ears.
“I’m
such an idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,
Mr…?”
“Carson,
Ian Carson. Call me Ian,” he offered his hand slowly, as though he didn’t want
to scare her.
“Ian,
I’m so sorry that I reacted the way I did – it just really startled me,” she
apologized, noting the “blood” that was all over her clothes because Ian had
carried her to a spot in the shade.
“No
worries,” he grinned. “Just lets me know that our special effects guys are
doing a great job.”
Missy
nodded vehemently. “It’s very convincing,” she said, trying not to make a face.
“Thanks,”
he chuckled. “Hey, can I get you a water bottle or something?” he offered, his
manner a welcome respite after being mistreated by Ivana Cherie.
“No,
thanks, I need to get going. Thanks for helping me out though, I really
appreciate it,” she smiled shyly.
“Anytime.
Hey, I didn’t catch your name, pretty lady,” he said as she turned to go.
“Melissa…call
me Missy,” she said, smiling at the non-mortally-wounded man.
“Missy,
nice. Hopefully we’ll meet again,” he raised a hand in farewell and walked off
toward one of the other luxury motor homes.
**
“So,
what was she like?” Cheryl badgered Missy for information when she got back to
the shop. Missy was quiet for a moment, having been raised with the old adage,
“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” and struggled to
come up with something even remotely positive to say about Ivana Cherie.
“Well…she
was just a tiny little thing. I don’t know how she manages to eat three
cupcakes a day and stay that size,” Missy offered, at a loss.
“I
know, right?” Cheryl gushed, excited that her boss had met an actual celebrity.
“Did anything fun or interesting happen? Did you get to watch the filming? What
was it like?” she peppered Missy with questions.
Her
boss laughed, raising her hands as a defense against the onslaught of
curiosity. “No, I really wasn’t there for very long. Long enough to make a fool
of myself though,” she shook her head, remembering her encounter with Ian. She
told Cheryl about it and watched as the manager’s jaw dropped open in
disbelief.
“What?”
Missy asked. “It was embarrassing, but it wasn’t
that
bad,” she grinned.
“You.
Met. Ian. Carson???” she practically screamed.
“Yes,
he was very sweet. Is he a local boy?” she asked innocently.
Cheryl
snorted. “Are you kidding? He’s like, one of the hottest movie stars of all
time!” she exclaimed, practically swooning with envy.
“Really?
Wow, that’s impressive,” Missy remarked, surprised. “I wouldn’t have expected
him to be so nice. He even offered to get me a bottle of water.”
“Please
tell me you took that water,” Cheryl said. “Tell me that he autographed it for
you and you’re going to keep it forever,” she said melodramatically, cracking
her boss up.
“Goodness,
girl, you’d think he was a superhero or something,” Missy shook her head.
“Celebrities are just people,” she said, echoing Chas’s sentiment.
“But
he
is
a superhero, didn’t you see the last Adventureman movie?” she
asked starry-eyed.
Missy
laughed again at her manager’s antics. “Careful darlin,’ I’d hate to have to
tell that over-protective husband of yours that you’re all in a tizzy about a
movie star,” she warned playfully.
“Ben
knows that he has no worries,” Cheryl smiled fondly, thinking of the love of
her life. “But still, if you can get me an autograph, I’ll work for you
forever,” she promised.
“I’ll
see what I can do,” Missy headed for the kitchen with a smile.
