Sugar and Iced (Cupcake Bakery Mystery) (14 page)

“And for my cookies,” Olivia growled.

Cici glanced between them with a warning look. “I’m sure our
professional
bakers will do their best with each recipe submitted by the girls.”

Mel and Olivia exchanged a glance. There was no mistaking the emphasis Cici put on the word
professional
. Mel took it as the warning it was and changed the subject.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Mel turned to Anka and said, “How very fortunate for the pageant that you happened to be in town and could be an emergency replacement.”

Cici gave her a dark look, but Mel kept her expression innocent. Olivia began to prattle on at the creative director about how a spread in
SWS
featuring her bakery would be a boost to the magazine’s sales, while also trying to get the photographer to agree to photograph some of her creations.

Anka’s lips twitched in what Mel assumed was a smile before Anka lost all muscle control, leaving her expression blank.

“I’m just happy to be of help,” Anka said. Her voice was a low purr and Mel had to lean in close to hear her over the noise of the crowded lobby.

“I heard that you and Mariel competed often over the years,” Mel said. “You must have been quite devastated to hear of her demise.”

Mel was pretty sure Anka’s eyes would have narrowed at her if they could have. Instead, her full lips moved into a half moue and she said, “Yes, I was quite overcome.”

As Cici ushered the judges away, Mel couldn’t help but wonder if Anka meant she had been overcome with regret, sorrow, or something else, like joy.

“Get this!” Tate was grinning as he read the next rec
ipe. “They want us to use Red Bull instead of milk in the cupcake batter.”

Mel lowered her head into her hands. She’d known it was going to be bad, but honestly, her gag reflex was in overdrive.

“I thought beauty queens were all about healthy living and eating. You know, so they have that natural glow,” Angie said. “Shouldn’t they be making cupcakes out of agave nectar and kale?”

“Apparently not,” Mel said. She had been scribbling down a shopping list that Tate was taking to the grocery store to get their “special” ingredients.

It was early evening and Mel knew she had a long night of baking ahead of her in order to get ready for the next two days at the pageant. On the upside, Oz had popped in earlier to tell them that Lupe had made the final round, the top twenty contestants to move forward, despite her fall by the pool. He said he was going to help her with her talent and then he disappeared for the afternoon.

Alma Rodriguez, the designer, had texted Mel back and said she could give Lupe’s dress some pizzazz but she was going to need some cupcakes as motivation. Cupcake blackmail, you had to respect it. Mel packed up an assorted two dozen and sent Joyce with the cupcakes and the dress to Alma’s studio.

Tomorrow was the big talent day and the day after that was cupcake tasting and evening gowns. Marty was manning the front of the shop, while Mel and Angie began the baking for the shop and for tomorrow’s cupcake tower. Mel had been given ten anonymous cupcake recipes, as had Olivia, and she would have to start those tomorrow.

Mel read the last recipe and scribbled
SpaghettiOs
and
Velveeta
on the list before she ripped it off the pad and handed it to Tate.

“Good luck with that,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said. He kissed Angie’s head before heading out the door.

“So, the police didn’t keep Lupe for very long,” Angie said.

“No, and they didn’t arrest her,” Mel said. “So I’m taking that as a good sign.”

“Still no word as to what the evidence was that made them bring her in to begin with?” Angie asked.

“No. Neither Uncle Stan nor Manny is talking,” Mel said. “Lupe did say that they fingerprinted her, so I’m wondering if prints were found that they are trying to match.”

“Prints on what?” Angie asked. “The sash used to strangle her? Can fabric hold a fingerprint?”

“Good question,” Mel said. “Maybe I’ll try to work that into conversation with Uncle Stan.”

“You’d probably have better luck if you tried Manny and batted your eyelashes at him,” Angie said.

Mel wasn’t sure how to take that. Surely, Angie wasn’t encouraging her to flirt with the cop.

“Just a thought,” Angie said with a shrug. “I mean he obviously likes you and it couldn’t hurt to find out what he’s thinking.”

“What who is thinking?” Paulie DeLaura asked as he entered the kitchen from the bakery with his little brother Al right behind him.

“Hey, guys!” Angie hopped off of her stool and hurried around the table to give her brothers hugs.

Mel gave them a little wave from her side of the table, but Paulie shook his head at her. “Aw, come here, Mel.”

“Yeah,” Al said. “Come in for the real thing.”

Relieved that she wasn’t still in trouble with the brothers for her relationship fallout with Joe, Mel hurried around the table for hugs, too.

There had been a tense couple of weeks when all six of the DeLaura brothers were mad at her. They’d let her know with the silent treatment and some fierce stink eye until Mrs. DeLaura told them to knock it off. She said that Mel would always be family, whether she married Joe or not. Then she took Mel aside and said that of course she fully expected that Mel would make the right choice. Yep, no pressure.

“How are my two favorite ladies doing?” Paulie asked.

Angie rolled her eyes. “You say that to all the girls.”

“Yeah, but with you two I mean it,” he said.

Mel laughed. Al shook his head as if he was embarrassed to be with his brother.

“We’re looking for Oz,” Al said. “He texted us that he needs some of our expertise.”

“Last I knew, he and Lupe were going to work on her talent for the pageant,” Mel said.

Paulie and Al exchanged a look. Mel took that to mean that they knew what Lupe’s talent was.

“So, what is she doing?” she asked.

“We can’t say,” Paulie said with a shrug. “Oz told us to keep it hush-hush.”

“Even from your sister?” Angie asked. She sounded outraged.

“Sorry, Sis,” Al said, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “We promised.”

Paulie was walking into the walk-in cooler to help himself to a cupcake, but Angie hurried across the room and slammed the door in his face.

“Oh, no, if you don’t talk, you get no cupcakes,” she said.

“Harsh!” Paulie said.

“Al,” Mel used her most cajoling tone. “You know you can trust us not to say anything. Just give us a hint.”

Al studied her. Then he nodded and said, “No.”

Mel let out an exasperated huff.

“Just please tell me. We’re not going to have one of those ‘What is your daughter doing? She’s kickin’ ass . . . that’s what she’s doing,’ moments,” Mel said.

“Hey, that’s from
Little Miss Sunshine
,” Angie said. “I can’t believe we haven’t worked one of those quotes in before now.”

“We’ve been busy,” Mel said. She turned back to Al and Paulie. “So, really, not even a hint?”

“Yeah,” Angie said. “Why does Oz need you two?”

“Not just us,” Paulie said. “All of the brothers—”

Al cut him off with an elbow to the ribs.

“So, Joe is in on it, too?” Mel asked.

“Don’t even try,” Al said. “Joe is on strict orders to stay away from you, so you can’t charm any information out of him.”

“As if I could,” Mel scoffed.

“Oh, you could,” Paulie said. “Even though you crushed him, he’s still crazy in love with you.”

As soon as the words left Paulie’s mouth, all four of them looked away from each other.

“Awkward,” Al said. “And on that charming note, we’ll just go look for Oz at our alternate meeting place.”

“See ya,” Paulie yelped as the younger and bigger Al hauled him out the door by the back of his collar.

“What do you suppose they’re up to?” Mel asked.

“No idea,” Angie said. “And if we can’t get it out of Paulie, we won’t know until they want us to know. I mean, we all know he’s the weakest link in the DeLaura chain.”

“You don’t think they’re teaching her stripper moves, do you?” Mel asked.

Angie laughed. “My mother would kill them.”

“You’re right,” Mel said. “No need to worry then, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Angie said.

Mel shuffled the recipes in front of her. “So, probably, I should focus on what we
can
do.”

“Like bake cupcakes.” Angie hefted the industrial-sized cupcake baking trays that they used out from under the table.

“Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of figuring out who murdered Mariel and why.”

Angie glanced up. “Silly me, of course you were. So, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that there are a whole lot of people who wanted Mariel dead,” she said.

“Who is your favorite suspect so far?” Angie asked.

“If it comes down to money, I’m thinking Ji Lily has a solid motive,” Mel said. “She told me that Mariel was deeply in debt to her because of their nail polish line, but I did a consult with Christine and she seems to think Ji is too smart to go into business with Mariel unless Mariel had solid backing, which Mariel proved by paying half up front. According to Ji, Mariel was stalling on the rest of the money. Now Ji is planning to sell Mariel’s nail polish as a tribute item.”

“Ew,” Angie said. “What about that replacement judge, the one who looks like a walking mannequin?”

“Anka Holland?” Mel asked. “What would be her motive?”

“Well, she’s never going to be second to Mariel again, now is she?”

“True, and I still find it convenient that she just happened to be in town during the pageant,” Mel said. “If she’s the murderer, in her mind this could have been long overdue. What do you think about Cici?”

“Hastings?” Angie asked. “But she’s so petite, and despite looking amazing, Cici has to be somewhere in her eighties. Do you really think she could have strangled Mariel?”

“She’s pretty spry,” Mel said. “Also, do we know if Mariel was marking any other contestants low on their scores? There’s a pretty nasty redhead named Sarah Hendricks who looks like she’d have no problem removing anyone who stood in her way of winning.”

“Yeah, I saw her,” Angie said. “She scared me.”

“And there must be others,” Mel said. “Maybe if we cozy up to Anka, we can check her out and see if anyone else seems a likely candidate.”

The door to the bakery swung open. Marty stood halfway in it, as if he wasn’t sure if he was coming or going.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Marty said over his shoulder to someone in the bakery.

“You said that about last night, too,” a voice, a female voice, said from behind him. “Do you regret that?”

Mel saw the tips of Marty’s ears go red with embarrassment and he turned away from the doorway to face them.

“Uh . . . I . . . the thing is . . .” he stammered.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake just tell them I’m here.” The woman’s voice was strident and bossy.

Mel and Angie exchanged an alarmed look. Mel knew that voice. No, it couldn’t be. Not in her kitchen. This was her sanctuary. Her oasis. Her insides clutched. Marty could not seriously be considering letting that plague enter it.

The door swung open, knocking Marty forward, and into the room strode Olivia Puckett.

“What are you doing here?” Angie asked.

At least that’s what Mel thought she said. It was hard to tell given that her voice was more feral growl than anything else.

“Relax, bite size,” Olivia said. “I’m just here to talk shop.”

“Livy, remember when we talked about not insulting them?” Marty asked. “Well, you just did.”

Olivia shrugged. “Sorry. I’m working on it.”

Mel eyed the woman who had been the irritating equivalent of a scorch mark on her countertop for the past few years.

“What do you want, Puckett?” she asked. Just because Olivia and Marty had some sort of weird relationship going did not mean Mel wanted to be drawn into her crazy.

“I came to commiserate,” Olivia said. “Is that so wrong?”

Mel eyed her suspiciously. “Not wrong so much as completely out of character.”

Marty glanced between the three of them as if he were trying to anticipate who would throw the first punch.

“You’ve got me there,” Olivia said.

She sat down without being invited and Mel felt a pinch of annoyance. Sadly, her mother had raised her to be gracious and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t quite shake it off.

“Are these your recipes?” Olivia asked, pointing to the sheets of paper on the steel table. “I just read through mine and they made me want to stab myself in the eye with a cake tester.”

Mel snorted. She had felt the same. Angie gave her an incredulous look and Mel shrugged.

“It’s true,” she said. “There were a few that are promising, but most of them are completely out there and totally uninspired.”

“It’s like these girls have never even heard of cooking from scratch,” Olivia said. “And then I have one that I know the girl ripped off from Martha Stewart. I mean, come on, what seventeen-year-old girl knows about reducing?”

“At least that one will taste good,” Mel said. “I have one that wants me to use cheese food.”

“Oh, gag.” Olivia made a face. “We should be getting hazard pay.”

They glanced at each other across the table and they both began to chuckle. Angie gave Mel a disgruntled look, and Mel tried to stifle it but she just laughed harder.

Marty glanced between them and then slowly took a seat beside Olivia.

“See? No bloodshed.” Olivia smiled at him and Mel saw a definite sparkle in Marty’s eye. She sucked in a surprised breath. It wasn’t just some strange matchup; Marty was truly smitten with Olivia Puckett.

Mel glanced quickly at Angie, but she was too busy scowling at Olivia to notice Marty. Mel looked back, wondering if she was wrong. No, the sparkle was there and what’s more, Olivia sparkled right back at him. Oh, wow.

“I like your kitchen,” Olivia said. “It’s cozy.”

“Is that an insult?” Angie half rose out of her seat. “Just because your kitchen is bigger doesn’t make you a better baker.”

Olivia blew out a breath. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, she was being polite,” Marty said. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ah,” Angie gasped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Now, Martin,” Olivia said as she patted his knee. “This is new for all of us and it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“What’s to get used to?” Marty asked. He circled his finger at the three of them. “You all had a crazy thing, now she and I have a different crazy thing. NBD.”

“Did you just ‘No Big Deal’ me?” Angie asked. She looked as if the hold she was keeping on her temper was tenuous at best. She frowned at Olivia. “The man is talking in acronyms now. Did you teach him that?”

“No, but it’s just darling, isn’t it?” Olivia asked. She wrinkled her snub nose and made kissy noises at him.

“I’m dry heaving on the inside if anyone cares,” Angie said.

Mel glanced between Marty and Olivia. They were a thing. This wasn’t just temporary insanity on his part. Not to go all acronym, but in her head she was shouting “OMG!” She forced herself to remain calm.

“No, Marty’s right,” Mel said. “This is what it is.”

“What?” Angie asked. Then she gestured across the table. “Do not encourage this! This needs to be ending—and soon.”

“Why?” Olivia asked. She looked unhappy, like she was ready to roll up her sleeves and wade into a brawl, which Mel really didn’t want in her kitchen.

“Because you’re whacko,” Angie said. “Have you forgotten how you’ve stalked us, tackled us, sabotaged our cupcake van, and tried to horn in on our photo shoot? Because I can assure you, I have not.”

“I’ve changed,” Olivia said.

Mel glanced at Marty. He nodded. “She really has.”

“How?” Angie asked. “How have you changed?”

“I’m happy now,” she said. She cast a shy glance at Marty. “I have more in my life than just the bakery. I’m not lonely anymore. It’s made me see things differently.”

Marty reached over and took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Mel knew that if Angie pushed this and told Marty it was them or Olivia, they stood a really good chance of losing Marty. That was not an option.

“I’m sorry, but this is completely unacceptable,” Angie said. “We’ve been patient but enough is enough—”

“Hey, when you hooked up with Roach, we didn’t abandon you,” Marty said.

“That was different,” Angie protested.

“Uh, yeah, he was a rock star with a murder rap following him around like a bad smell and we still didn’t make you choose,” Marty said.

“He has a point,” Mel said.

Angie rolled her eyes, then leaned across the table and glared at Olivia. “Fine, but if you hurt him, I will
reduce
you, if you get my drift.”

Olivia nodded while Marty gave Angie a lopsided grin. “Aw, I love you, too, Ange.”

Angie glowered at him and grunted, but her meaning was clear. Marty was her friend and she would protect him until the end.

“Well, on that peculiar note, I’d better get back to my bakery,” Olivia said. “Sadly, and I do mean that, these concoctions are not going to bake themselves.”

“Olivia, I know you came into the pageant late,” Mel said, “but have you seen anything—”

“No,” Olivia answered as Mel let the question dangle. “Marty and I have talked about it, but I haven’t seen anything related to the murder.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Mel said.

“Sure,” Olivia said. She walked to the kitchen door with Marty by her side.

“Well, I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Angie said as the door shut behind them. “I mean I know I don’t like it, but it’s nice to see Marty with a spring in his step.”

“If Marty’s happy, we’re happy for him,” Mel said.

“Even if we’re not,” Angie said.

“Exactly,” Mel said.