Powdered Murder (10 page)

"Aggie," I stated.

"Oh." She jumped when she finally heard my voice. "You're still here, are you?" She stopped and wiped her hands on her apron. "Okay, what'll take to get rid of you?"

"I want to know about some of the food that was sent out yesterday," I replied. "A cupcake order sometime yesterday afternoon?"

"Oh," she huffed. "You'll be wanting the list." She stepped past me and opened a door I had previously assumed was a storage closet or an extra pantry. Inside was an office. It was small and it looked very much like it used to be a closet, but a half smile crossed Aggie's face as she sat at her computer and glanced at a photo of her dog Cuddles. "We keep track of all that stuff here." She opened a file on her desktop and clicked on a list of items that were ordered yesterday. They were categorized and alphabetized. "What are you looking for again?"

"Cupcakes," I answered.

Aggie's mouse scrolled through the list of items and stopped when she got to an order for a dozen specialty cupcakes for pickup. She highlighted the order.

"Here you go. Only one cupcake order was placed yesterday afternoon."

"A dozen Pinecliffe Delights," I said out loud. "What's that?"

The resort's prized dessert collection is a mystery to me. I made the mistake once of trying a slice of the specialty blueberry spice pie, and it almost killed me that I couldn't eat the whole thing. After thinking about it
so
much that a slice of berry heaven started showing up in my dreams, I decided it was best to leave the food in the kitchen to the guests.

"It's our award-winning cupcake," Aggie said proudly. "I came up the recipe myself. Chocolate cake with peanut butter cream inside. The filling is also a special invention of mine. It's like biting into a piece of peanut butter fudge."

I ignored the rumbling in my stomach upon hearing Aggie's detailed description.

"And who placed the order? Someone in the wedding party?"

"Of course not," she gasped. "Why, I wouldn't allow it. That's absurd." Her expression was stern. She glared at me like I was being scolded for licking the frosting off of a wedding cake.

"Why not?"

"Because one of the wedding guests has a severe nut allergy. I received the notice right after they checked in. I take the dietary needs of each guest very seriously you know. I wouldn't have even allowed this order to go through, but I wasn't here when it was called in. My foolish assistant approved it. I would've at least used the soy nut butter substitute just in case."

"Then who ordered it?"

She looked closer at here computer screen. I squinted and read the name on the order. It was called in on a line that wasn't connected to any of the hotel rooms. The order was paid for with cash, and picked up by someone named
C. Darnay
.

"C. Darnay?"

"Sometimes people don't bother to use their full names," Aggie responded. "Or even their real names if the order is a surprise for someone and they don't want any of the staff ringing their room about it."

"Were you here when the order was picked up?" I asked. Aggie studied the list and shook her head.

"No, that would be Dora. It says that the box was collected at one o'clock. I would have been on my lunch break." She stood up and gestured towards the door.

"Is Dora here?"

"Dora!" Aggie shouted. She waited as a young girl wearing a hair net came quickly with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face. "This woman wants to speak with you." Aggie turned to me. "Are we finished?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Can I help you?" Dora timidly asked. She was shorter than me and very petite. I remembered Joy telling me once that the kitchen staff had to be at least eighteen years old to qualify for a permanent position, but Dora looked like she was sixteen years old.

"Yeah." I took a deep breath. Doc Henry was right. Donna had an allergic reaction to the peanut butter filling. Someone gave her that cupcake on purpose. Someone really did kill her. Her fate was no accident. Shivers pulsed up and down my spine. "You were here yesterday afternoon when someone picked up an order for a dozen Pinecliffe Delights. Did you happen to see who it was?"

"Oh the cupcakes," Dora said. She nodded. "I remember those. Yeah."

"Was it a man?" My chest went tight. I was inches away from fixing this entire mess. "Was he tall or short? Older or younger?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Dora scratched the side of her head. "I meant I remember those
cupcakes
. I put them out on the counter and a few minutes later they were gone."

"So you didn't see who collected them?"

"No, ma’am."

"What about security cameras?" I asked. "Would I be able to see the person on one of them?"

"No, ma’am." Dora shook her head, eyeing the camera in the kitchen facing the storage room and freezers. "There's only the one in here facing all our food storage. There isn't one facing the pick-up window."

"Thanks." I sighed, reluctantly stepping out of the kitchen feeling defeated.

In my attempts to take a few steps forward, I'd taken a giant step back. I now knew what I had been hoping wasn't true. Donna's demise was the result of foul play and I wasn't any closer to identifying the killer.

I tugged at the collar of my sweater and took a few strides towards great hall where the ceremony would be taking place tomorrow. It didn't take long before Joy spotted me and sped down the hallway. Her sleeve was unbuttoned revealing the tattoo on her wrist of a yellow hibiscus. It was a tribute to one of the greatest moments of her life, her Hawaiian honeymoon with Wade. Their honeymoon bliss ended the moment they got home, as she repeatedly reminded me.

"You have a rehearsal to attend," she said through her teeth. "Mr. Kentworth is breathing down my neck."

"Unfortunately, I don’t have any updates for you."

"As long as Lila, the cosmetics queen, is happy, and the papers don't get ahold of this story and start giving the resort a bad rep." She looked down at her sleeve and promptly buttoned it closed. "I feel like the second I get a chance to breathe I am going to have a nervous breakdown. I need more coffee."

"Joy, you have to relax sometime." She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead the way she normally did when she was beginning to get a migraine. "Remember Christmas last year?"

"Gosh," she murmured. "Quit bringing that up. That was ages ago."

"Mom hasn't recovered from that yet," I reminded her.

"I was with Wade that Christmas. That dirtbag. He turns me into the biggest idiot in town for some reason. Him and his lame ass ideas."

When Joy reaches a certain stress level she acts much like a tea kettle, and not the cute whistling kind. She tends to boil over the brim and scorch anyone or anything in her path. That was the case last Christmas when she was put in charge of planning Mayor Millbreck's annual Holiday Charity Auction hosted by the resort. She hardly slept for weeks. When Christmas morning came around, my mom woke up and found her and Wade asleep in the middle of the family room on top of a pile of wet shingles. The two of them got so drunk they ended up hauling piles of snow onto the roof to build the world's largest snowman.

The weight of two village idiots and all that extra snow caused the roof to cave in.

Mom had a hard time understanding why someone as seemingly responsible as Joy would have allowed herself to drink that much. My dad, a car enthusiast, said she was “redlining.”

"You've got to slow down before you snap, sis."

"Fine," she agreed. "Since I'm probably going to get fired anyway I'll come home early tonight and try to wind down before the wedding dinner."

"Do you remember where I live?"

"Very funny." She glanced at the time and gasped. "I've got to go, but they're waiting on you to get started."

"Right." I ran my fingers through my long locks and looked down at my jeans to make sure there were no mud stains.

"And, Essie?” Joy added. "Thank you. You really are a life saver."

"What are sisters for?"

CHAPTER NINE

I couldn't take my eyes off of Patrick. He waited at the end of the great room with Pastor Tad in a pair of slacks and a navy sweater that brought out the broadness of his shoulders. His arms were folded as he grinned at his old family friend. Lila wasn't as amused to meet their marriage officiant. She was too busy staring at her cell phone while Franco held her purse and a half empty glass of champagne. Bebe's eyes lit up when she saw me. She glanced over at Lila and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, you're Essie right?" a voice called out behind me. It was Eli making one of his rounds.

"Do you ever actually wait tables like you're supposed to?"

"Not really." He chuckled and handed me a letter. "This came for you."

I glanced down at the envelope. It was plain with no writing on the front except my name spelled in all caps. I studied it, turning it over and searching for a return address or at least a seal of some kind that might tell me where it came from.

"Who from?" I asked.

"I don't know." Eli shrugged. "It was sitting against your locker in the break room. I thought I would bring it to you in case it was important."

"Thanks, Eli." He tilted his head like he was tipping an invisible hat before he walked away.

I took a few steps back towards the grand arched windows facing the parking lot and the Rocky Mountains. I tore open the letter as a ray of sunshine escaped through the glass and pushed its way towards my eyes. I took another step and glanced out the window.

My chest froze.

There it was again – the black BMW. It slowly crept through the parking lot before it turned a corner and headed for the exit. My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. My feet were heavy like two useless dumbbells that wouldn’t budge. I gulped. My gut told me that the mystery car was bad news. It kept popping up.

I took a couple of calming breaths and carefully opened the letter, tearing the envelope where it was previously sealed so nothing important ripped. Inside was a plain sheet of paper with only two words typed in an ordinary font.

You're Next.

I kept my eyes glued to the message for fear of looking up and seeing the killer waiting for me with a baseball bat. I forced my calf muscles to relax as my gaze wandered down to one last thing. A smudge on the paper that was light brown in color and looked pretty fresh. I knew what it was instantly. It was peanut butter.

Someone had to be watching me.

It was hard to contain myself. I knew that whoever had sent this could be watching my reaction as I read the threat. I couldn’t give that person the satisfaction of knowing I was freaking out inside. I forced myself to make a straight face and casually folded up the letter, placing it back in its envelope. I'd stepped into a forbidden realm. My questions and personal inquiries were no longer a casual thing. I'd ventured into dangerous territory, and I'd given away my position.

My stomach churned, and I felt queasy just thinking about the fact that someone in Bison Creek was capable of something as sinister as murder. I could hardly control my thumping heart and shaky hands. I closed my eyes. I'd dealt with physical pain like this once before. I could keep it together. I could control my outward appearance, appearing on the outside like I didn't want to run and hide.

Last summer I ran a marathon in Salt Lake City. It was one of the toughest things I have ever done. Near the middle of it, my mind and body engaged in an inner debate that went on for miles. I was fatigued, anxious, and almost defeated. My mind told me I couldn't handle taking another step. That I might collapse if I pushed myself farther. My body didn't agree. It kept moving. It continued to do the impossible with every stride. My legs propelled forward on their own as I contemplated what to do in my head.

In the end, I shut myself up and let my legs do what I'd trained them to do. I wasn't going to quit and my body obeyed my commands until I crossed the finish line. It wasn't until I stopped running that I began to feel all the pain. I'd been in pain the entire time, but I made the choice to temporarily ignore it for a greater reward.

Now I had to do the same thing again.

I had to force my body not to topple over. Not to turn the color of Franco's ruby red bowtie. Not to let my eyes explode with frightened tears. I had to make the choice to ignore my head and carry on like normal until I was back in the safety of my own apartment.

I did just that.

I folded the letter and shoved it in my purse, joining the others at the edge of the great room where the ceiling extended up towards a circular stained glass window overlooking the mountain tops. It was an exquisite place to get married. I knew Patrick wouldn't have had it any other way. He was starting the next chapter of his life where the previous one had begun. On the slopes.

"There you are," Bebe muttered. "Lila was just about to—"

"She's here," Lila shouted impatiently. "Let's move on with our day, people."

"Pastor," Patrick commented. "You remember Gwen … I mean, Essie?"

"Of course," the Pastor smiled and nodded in my direction. "I see your parents once in a while, but I haven't seen much of
you
lately."

"Someone is being called out," Franco muttered. He and Lila both chuckled quietly. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything. I would be surprised if the two of them
have attended a church service once in their lifetimes.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Pastor Tad lined everyone up in their official spots with Patrick and Lila at the head of the room facing each other. I stood next to Bebe as the Pastor reviewed what he was going to say during the ceremony.

"Bebe," I whispered. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," she whispered back.

"Does stuff like this happen to Lila a lot? I'm just curious."

"You mean the stalker stuff?" she clarified.

"Yeah." I sighed as Patrick recited a short version of his vows. Lila's eyes were locked on him as he did so.