Sugar and Iced (Cupcake Bakery Mystery) (7 page)

“Finding the body is not
my
job,” Angie said. “That’s
supposed to be you.”

Mel put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. She knew it was shock making Angie babble.

“I wouldn’t say it was my job exactly,” Mel said. “Did you call the police?”

“Lydia is on it,” Angie said. She gestured to the far side of the table and Mel saw Lydia, the pretty woman from the front desk, on her cell phone. She looked stressed as she paced back and forth in the narrow area.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” Mel asked.

Angie gestured for Mel to look closer. Mel took a deep breath and leaned over Mariel’s still form.

There was no rise and fall to her chest. No warmth coming off of her body. Her bloodshot eyes were unseeing. A wide pink satin sash was wrapped around her neck and Mel could see scratch marks along her throat, as if she’d been clawed by something or someone.

“The police are on their way,” Lydia said as she crouched beside them. “I’ve had security paged to move the crowd out of the lobby.”

As she spoke, a big burly man in a navy blue uniform with a radio on his hip arrived and began pushing the crowd back. Lydia rose to go and speak with him.

“How did you find her?” Mel asked.

“I dropped a cupcake,” Angie said. “When I couldn’t find it, I thought it rolled under the table. When I lifted the cloth, there she was.”

“That was quite a scream you let out,” Mel said. “I’m pretty sure they heard you all the way out to the main road.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m going to have nightmares tonight and for many nights after,” Angie said. She shuddered and lowered the cloth, letting it fall carefully around Mariel’s middle.

“Melanie, Angela, what’s happening?” Joyce Cooper hissed. She ignored the arm of the security guard as he tried to keep her back.

They looked from Joyce to the body. Mel wasn’t comfortable leaving but she didn’t really want to keep watch, either.

“It’s all right,” Lydia said, rejoining them beside the body. “Go talk to her. I’ll stay with—her. I can’t get any more freaked out than I already am.”

Mel and Angie studied Lydia. She looked as if she was fighting to keep it together. Mel was pretty sure they didn’t have a course for this in hospitality school. Angie met her gaze and Mel knew she was thinking the same thing.

“Call us if you need us,” Mel said.

Lydia nodded with a grateful glance.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but you’ve got to keep back with everyone else until the police arrive,” the security guard said to Joyce.

“That is my daughter,” Joyce argued, pointing at Mel. “And I will not back up until I know what is happening.”

The security guard glanced behind him just as Mel and Angie joined them. The look he gave Mel was one of relief, and she nodded. Having been the one to hold her mother back a few times, she commiserated with the poor guy who was obviously out of his depth.

“I’m here, Mom,” Mel said. “It’s okay.”

Lupe was standing behind Joyce and the two of them followed Mel and Angie off to the far side of the lobby. Lupe’s eyes were huge and she was biting her lower lip as if to keep herself from crying. She was knotting the belt of her robe in her hands and Mel wondered if she should send her to go and change. Surely, they wouldn’t be going ahead with the pageant now.

“I’m sorry this happened, Lupe,” Mel said. They each sat down on the edge of a large planter with precisely arranged bromeliads in it.

“What happened exactly?” Joyce asked. “All we heard was that a woman was found underneath the cupcake table. Is that true? Who is it?”

“It’s Mariel Mars,” Angie said.

“What? But how? Why?” Joyce stammered, looking stunned.

“From what I saw, I’m guessing she was strangled with a sash,” Mel said. “No idea why, though.”

She reached out and took her mother’s hand. Joyce’s skin felt cold, and Mel squeezed her fingers tight as if she could transfer some warmth. Joyce squeezed back letting Mel know that it was appreciated. Joyce reached out and hugged Mel.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “That must have been awful.”

Mel heaved a huge sigh. It felt so good to have her mother speaking to her again. Joyce squeezed her tight and then let her go so that she could do the same with Angie. Mel sat back and watched as her mother comforted her best friend.

She felt movement beside her and glanced over to see Lupe rise to her feet. She started backing away with a fearful look in her eyes.

“Lupe, where are you going?” Joyce asked.

“I have to get out of here,” Lupe said.

“I don’t think anyone will be allowed to leave until the police have talked to us,” Mel said.

“Oh, that’s not happening,” Lupe said with a shake of her head.

“I don’t think you have any choice,” Angie said.

“That’s why I need to leave now before the cops get here,” Lupe said.

“Lupe, honey, what are you afraid of?” Joyce asked.

Lupe looked at Mel. “She really doesn’t get it, does she?”

“And neither do I,” Mel said. “What’s got you so worried?”

“Look at me,” Lupe said. She pointed to herself. “I’m a Latina in a room full of white blondies. Who do you think the cops are going to suspect first?”

“No,” Joyce said with a shake of her head. “My brother-in-law Stan is a longtime detective with the Scottsdale PD, and he’s not like that.”

Lupe shook her head. Her long dark hair hid her face, and Mel wondered if she missed the colored bangs that used to hide her from the world.

“And if you don’t believe that,” Mel said, “Uncle Stan’s partner is Hispanic and he isn’t like that, either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lupe said. Her voice quavered and she sounded on the verge of crying.

“Why not?” Angie asked.

“Because even if the color of my skin doesn’t make them suspect me, what happened yesterday will. We had a fight with Mariel Mars in a room full of witnesses. I threatened her! How long do you think it will take them to look at me after they find out about that?”

“Find out about what?” a voice asked from behind Lupe. Mel glanced up to see Detective Manny Martinez standing there. He did not look happy to see them.

“Manny!” Mel greeted the tall, dark, and annoyingly
handsome detective. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not checking the flower arrangements,” he said, giving her a look that made her feel flustered and not just because she had evaded his question.

“Oh, right,” Mel said. She stepped forward and gave him an awkward half hug. He looked amused, as if he knew she was uncertain how to behave around him. “Homicide detective. Body. It all adds up now.”

“The hotel manager said you were the one to find the victim,” he said. His black eyes looked concerned and Mel gave him a rueful smile.

“It wasn’t me this time,” she said. “It was Angie.”

“Hi.” Angie rose from her seat on the planter and gave him a small wave.

Manny and Angie had an uneasy relationship. Mel knew it was mostly her fault. With Joe being Angie’s older brother, Angie felt a certain loyalty to him to not like any man who showed an interest in the woman Joe wanted to marry, which would be Mel. On the other hand, Angie was Mel’s best friend and wanted her to be happy, so she tried to be extra nice to Manny on the off—very off—chance that Mel and Manny ended up together.

“How are you doing?” he asked. He gave Angie the same concerned look he’d given Mel.

“Not great,” Angie said.

“Understandable,” Manny said. “Can you talk about it? We can wait for Stan if you want. He’s coming here from another call.”

“No, it’s fine,” Angie said. “I can do this.”

It sounded to Mel like she was talking herself into it.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Angie gave her a stiff nod.

“If you could just walk me through what happened.” Manny said. He gestured to the crime scene.

The uniformed police who had responded had already cordoned off the area with plastic yellow tape, and gawkers were being dispersed by the resort’s security staff. While Mel watched, she noted that the crime scene investigators had arrived and were surveying the surrounding scene.

Manny and Angie walked closer to the perimeter of the tape and Mel saw Angie explaining how she’d found the body. Even from across the room, she could see that Angie’s hands were shaking. She wished she could go over and hug her friend.

“She’ll be okay,” Joyce said, and she hugged Mel to her side.

Mel turned to look at her. “Thanks, Mom. Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“It seems silly now to have been so annoyed with you.” Joyce let go of her and reached up to brush the blond bangs out of Mel’s eyes. “My feelings were hurt that you left me out of your big news and then you broke up with dear Joe.”

Joyce let out a sigh that sounded like it came from her feet. “An assistant district attorney.” She sighed again. “I’m sure I’ll be able to let it go, eventually.”

Mel smiled at her. “That’s my girl.”

Joyce gave her a rueful look.

Mel glanced at Lupe and noticed she was scanning the room as if looking for the nearest exit.

“Trust me,” she said to the teen. “You’re going to be okay. Mariel must have been under the table before Angie and I set up today’s cupcake tower. Whoever harmed her had to have done it earlier today when you were prepping for the bathing suit event, so you have Mom as an alibi.”

Lupe and Joyce exchanged a glance. It was the bottom-heavy look of two people who were sharing a secret.

“Oh, no, spill it,” Mel said.

Joyce put a protective arm around Lupe. “No one is accountable for every second of their day.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you weren’t with Lupe all morning?” Mel asked.

Lupe looked down and away as if afraid to meet Mel’s gaze directly. Mel could feel her stomach knot up with anxiety. This wasn’t good. Much as she hated to admit it, Lupe had been right. Her spat with Mariel yesterday didn’t bode well for her. She would be the one that Manny and Uncle Stan looked at first. She had to have an alibi.

“Where were you this morning?” Mel asked.

“Studying,” Lupe said. She looked miserable.

“Did anyone see you?” Mel asked. “Please tell me someone saw you.”

“You’re being overly dramatic. She doesn’t need an alibi,” Joyce insisted. “She’s an eighteen-year-old girl, not a killer.”

“Who’s not a killer?” Uncle Stan asked as he joined them.

Joyce and Mel exchanged alarmed glances. When did he get here and how much had he heard?

A love of Mel’s cupcakes and every other sweet he could lay his chubby fingers on had given Uncle Stan a physique that took up more than its fair share of real estate, so it wasn’t often that he got the drop on anyone.

“They’re talking about me,” Lupe said. Mel and Joyce began to protest, but Lupe held up her hand. “Let’s just get it out there. Mariel Mars tried to have me booted from the pageant yesterday. She was pretty mean, but I didn’t kill her.”

Uncle Stan blinked as he took in the young woman before him. “Hey, aren’t you the girl who hangs out with Oz?”

Lupe nodded.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without the . . .” Uncle Stan paused and wiggled his fingers over his bare forehead.

Lupe cracked a smile. “Green bangs?”

“I think they were pink the last time I saw you,” he said.

“I liked the pink,” Lupe said. Her voice was wistful, as if she were longing for more than her old hairdo—like, maybe her old life.

Stan glanced at the three of them. “So, what happened?”

“Well, Mariel Mars is a hideous, vile, nasty woman,” Joyce began.

“This is the victim?” Stan asked.

“Yes,” Joyce confirmed.

“And still you’re describing her to me in such derogatory terms, knowing that I am a homicide detective?” he asked.

“You’re my brother-in-law,” Joyce said. “I am giving you the unvarnished truth.”

Mel met Uncle Stan’s gaze and rolled her eyes. He tucked his lips in, trying to hide his smile.

“Anyway, Mariel scored Lupe thirty points lower than any other judge on her interview yesterday,” Joyce said. “So I challenged Mariel about it and, oh, did she ever throw a fit.”

Stan’s smile disappeared. “You challenged her?”

“I was just looking for some accountability,” Joyce said.

“Did anyone else see this quest for accountability?” Stan asked.

“Well, Lupe was with me,” Joyce said. Mel could tell she was trying to avoid answering the question. Probably she was afraid she was going to give Stan a heart attack. Mel figured they’d best just get it over with.

“The entire lobby area, which was full, heard Mom and Mariel disagree.”

“They also might have heard me threaten her,” Lupe said.

“Threaten her how?” Stan asked.

“I may have said something like ‘hurt my friends and I’ll make you pay,’” Lupe said.

“Oh, and you told her if she hurt us, you’d hurt her bad,” Joyce said. Lupe gave her a wide-eyed stare. “Or something like that,” Joyce muttered.

Uncle Stan started patting his shirtfront pocket and Mel knew he was searching for his antacid pills. When that yielded no results, he patted his front pants pockets. Then he looked around as if a pack of Tums might appear on the floor.

“Here you go.” Manny held out an unopened roll of the chalky tablets to Stan. He looked at Mel and said, “I started carrying them when we partnered up.”

Stan glowered but took the pack. “What have we got?”

“At a quick glance, we have a middle-aged female vic, strangled with a beauty pageant sash. Given the claw marks on her throat, she put up a fight,” Manny said. “You ready to have a look?”

Uncle Stan nodded. Mel studied him, wondering if he was going to tell Manny what they had told him.

“Stick around,” Uncle Stan said to Joyce. “I’m going to look over the scene. I’ll be back shortly.”

Joyce nodded. Mel wondered if she had finally caught on that they were not in the best possible situation here.

“Oh, man, I’m dead,” Lupe moaned.

“Don’t panic,” Angie said. “Think about it this way—if Mariel was as nasty to the others as she was to you, and that seems likely, than you’re hardly the only one with a motive to kill her.”

“But how are we going to find out who she was mean to?” Lupe asked. “I was already an outsider before this happened. I think it’s safe to say none of the other pageant girls are ever going to talk to me.”

“We can ask Cici,” Mel said.

“She does seem to like us,” Angie said. “And I don’t think she was terribly fond of Mariel, either.”

“Mom, since Ginny is connected in the pageant world, can you ask her to dig up what she can?”

“Good idea,” Joyce said. “I’m sure Mariel left a trail of unhappy behind her and all we need to do is follow it.” She turned to Lupe. “Don’t you worry, honey, your pageant dream is alive and well.”

“Scholarship dream,” Lupe said.

“Yes, of course,” Joyce agreed. “That’s what I meant.”

Mel looked at the glint in her mother’s eye. She wondered if this was what her mother had hoped for when she was a teenage girl, to be the champion of a beauty pageant daughter. To Joyce’s credit, if she had felt that way, Mel had never known. Still, she felt a little bad that she might have let her mother down by being the chunk she’d been all those years ago. The thought didn’t sit well.

“Mel, can I have a word?” Manny approached their group and Mel felt her face get warm.

Joyce looked perturbed, but said nothing. Angie glanced away as if she hadn’t heard.

“Sure,” she said.

They walked across the room toward the French doors that led out to the pool. Several of the contestants were sitting on the padded lounge chairs with their knees drawn up to their chests, as if they could tuck and roll away from the tragedy inside.

Mel saw the blunt-featured redhead called Sarah, who she remembered was particularly nasty to her mother the day before, after her interview. When she’d asked Ginny about her, Ginny had told her that Sarah Hendricks was the scourge of the pageant circuit, known for weeping when she lost, which she usually did due to her serious lack of people skills. Presently, Sarah was pacing in the corner, with her mother pacing beside her.

Mel also spotted Destiny Richards with her mother, Brittany. Destiny was watching a hummingbird working its way around a potted plant of petunias while her mother talked animatedly on her cell phone.

Manny moved to the side of the doors and Mel followed him, turning away from the view of the stressed contestants. He was quiet for a moment and she got a bad feeling down deep.

She had met Manny when he was investigating the murder of Baxter Malloy, a man her mother had been dating. Since he had been murdered on their very first date, Joyce had not been dating Baxter for very long. Still, she had been a suspect and Mel and Manny had not hit it off, not until a few months ago when Manny transferred to the Scottsdale PD and became her uncle’s partner. Murder had brought them together again, but that time, Manny had saved her life, forever altering their relationship.

Mel glanced at the handsome detective out of the corner of her eye. He was good-looking in a raw-boned, rugged, “not afraid to punch a guy in the face if it was needed” sort of way. Frankly, Mel found it very attractive, which only served to make her feel even more awkward around the man, since she was quite sure that her heart belonged to Joe. She cleared her throat and forced her mind back to the situation at hand.

“So, is this where you break it to me gently that you’re arresting my mother or Lupe for the murder of Mariel Mars?” she asked.

Manny met her gaze with a grim one of his own before he said, “Yes.”