The Diva Frosts a Cupcake (10 page)

The united hands at which I stared broke up when Natasha yanked her hand out of Mars’s, stood up, and said, “I demand a recount. Humphrey was biased because he’s smitten with Renee, and Bernie is his friend.”

Renee drew a sharp breath and appeared on the verge of tears. Had Natasha’s outburst offended her so deeply?

Bernie ran a hand over his face. “Blimey, Natasha! Couldn’t you lose gracefully just once in your life?”

Mars rose and placed a hand on Natasha’s shoulder, which looked to me less like support and more like restraint. Martha took that opportunity to leap onto Natasha’s empty chair and up onto the table, where she nabbed the remainder of a Coco Loco Cupcake. Hands reached for her from all directions, but the clever dog evaded them, hopping down so fast she was little more than a blur.

Bernie rose to chase her, shouting, “Stop that dog. She has dark chocolate in her mouth. It could kill her!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dear Natasha,

I have never been fond of cupcakes. They’re just too sweet for my taste. I’ve been asked to bring them to our next bridge club party, but I can’t bring myself to make that sweet, fluffy icing. Are there any alternatives?

—Savory Gal in Sugartown, New York

Dear Savory Gal,

Dip your cupcakes in melted chocolate. Or drizzle them with a glaze and sprinkle chopped nuts on top. The added bonus is that the frosting lovers won’t ask you to bring cupcakes to bridge club again.

—Natasha

Mars, Daisy, and I collided directly behind Bernie. We chased after Martha, but in single file we weren’t effective. When we reached the entrance of the tent, we came to an abrupt halt. This time, Martha had made good on her escape.

Silently, the three of us scanned the park and surrounding area. Cars lined the street, providing plenty of shadows where Martha could hide. Not to mention the trees and bushes in the park. The streetlights offered ample light for walking, but not for locating little dogs.

“Will she come if we call her?”

“I doubt it,” said Mars. “We’ve only had her for a couple of days.”

Nevertheless, we all called her name.

“What if we split up and carry dog treats? Something she’d smell—like the chicken liver pupcakes,” I suggested.

“It’s worth a shot,” said Bernie. “If she ate that chocolate cupcake, she’ll be in trouble soon.”

“If we ever find her, I’m going to rename her Trouble,” grumbled Mars.

I handed Daisy’s leash to Mars and poked my head into the cupcake tent. Luckily, a couple of the liver pupcakes remained. I grabbed them and returned to hand one to Mars and half of one to Bernie. We divided the area. Mars offered to check the cars along the street. He insisted on taking Daisy with him, saying she might alert him if Martha was hiding underneath a car.

Bernie took the left side of the park, and I strolled out to the right.

When I reached the edge of the river, I wished I had a flashlight. Even though the lights of the tent were bright in the distance, the dark river’s edge seemed a little sinister. A wind kicked up, and the water gurgled. I’d grown up in the country, so there was no reason for me to be afraid of the thickets of bushes, but I was uncomfortable nevertheless. Someone crashed through the brush. I paused, thinking it could be Martha, but heard a strange singsong voice.

Instead of calling out Martha’s name, I shouted Bernie’s.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

Relief swept over me. I ran in the direction of his voice.

“I don’t have her, sorry. Just got a little spooked. Someone is creeping around out there.”

Bernie slung an arm around me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just wish we could locate Martha. Especially since she’s so small.”

I could feel him nodding. “The smaller the dog, the darker the chocolate, the more dangerous the situation. Maybe we should come back with flashlights. She could be a meter away and we wouldn’t see her.”

We walked across the grass and rounded the tents. Guests flooded out to their cars. Nina had arranged for valet parking as well, and a polite line had formed for that.

Mars and Daisy met us. “From your empty arms, I’m guessing you didn’t find her,” said Mars.

Daisy nuzzled my hand for the liver cupcake and ate it with gusto.

“It’s too dark back there. I suggest we go home, change clothes, and return with flashlights.”

“That’s about all we can do right now,” said Mars. “You know, Maurice is a very strange egg. After that fuss he made about not feeling well, would you believe he was out here on the sidewalk? It was bizarre. When he saw me, he took off down that way and disappeared in the dark.”

“Sophie, I bet that’s why you were creeped out,” said Bernie. “Maybe you got a vibe that he was lurking in the bushes.”

“Eww.” Chill bumps rose on my arms at the mere thought. “But why? Why run from Mars, and why hide?”

“He didn’t want me to recognize him? Or to know he wasn’t really sick? Beats me. I’ll watch Daisy while you go home and change. Do you have any stinky meat or cheese?”

I could have called Mars on that, but I knew what he meant. “I’ll sniff the fridge.”

Instead of taking both cars, Bernie gave me a lift home. I changed into jeans that had enough spandex in them to make them feel comfortable and soft, even after a ten-cupcake meal. Mochie watched from my bed, but he’d curled up into a soft ball that indicated he planned to stay there for a nap. I found a teal three-quarter-sleeve T-shirt with a V-neck and managed to slide it on without messing up my hair. A pair of running shoes, and I was set to go. In case Nina wanted to join in the hunt, I stuffed drawstring pants and another Tee into a bag. She wore a larger shoe size, so I hoped she might have taken a pair of sneakers with her for the prep work before the dinner.

Mochie purred when I stroked him, and I assured him I’d be home later. He didn’t seem worried.

I took a minute to sniff the fridge for anything with a powerful scent. The best I could do was leftover lamb steak and a block of sharp cheddar cheese. When I grabbed my favorite flashlight, which pointed straight as well as down at my feet so I could see where I was stepping, it dawned on me to bring leashes, too, in case one of us nabbed her.

Leaving a light on in the kitchen for Mochie, I locked the front door. Bernie pulled around in minutes. He drove to the park slowly so we could be on the lookout for Martha, and Buddy, too.

He hit the brakes. “Do you see that?”

I bent forward to look past him. In the dim recesses of an alley, a slender figure darted crazily from shadow to shadow. “Is that Maurice?”

“I certainly hope he’s not up to no good. What peculiar behavior.”

“I think he’s hiding from someone. What other reason would he have to run into the shadows and lurk like that?”

“Martha’s more important than that nutter, Maurice.” Bernie drove on. “He’s off his trolley!”

By the time we reached the park and the tent, only Nina, Francie, Natasha, Mars, Spenser, and Clarissa remained along with cleanup and break-down crews. Bernie passed out flashlights, and I handed out leashes, cheese, and chunks of lamb. Nina changed clothes.

Natasha pulled me aside. “Will she really die from eating chocolate? I think Mars and Bernie are trying to scare me as punishment for contesting the results, which I’m certain were wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Natasha. It doesn’t take much chocolate to be lethal to a tiny dog like Martha.”

It was rare for me to feel sorry for Natasha, but she looked so sad that I hugged her. “Maybe we’ll find her in time. Don’t give up hope yet.”

“I feel so guilty. I . . . I was thinking about returning her to the breeder, but I didn’t want her to
die
.”

“Natasha, it wasn’t your fault. She’s a fast little devil.”

“It was the fault of the person who didn’t finish that cupcake.”

That was ridiculous, too. But I didn’t point that out because she was already miserable.

Nina returned, and we spread out in a line to canvas the park. Natasha still wore her beautiful gown, so she kept watch on the street and the tents with Francie and Clarissa while the rest of us ventured toward the river flicking our flashlights across the grass and under bushes.

We neared the spot where I’d heard a strange voice. Loud and clear, someone was speaking gibberish. I aimed my flashlight into the bushes but didn’t see anyone.

It was a woman’s voice I heard, and she continued speaking. “Come back to me. I can see you there, glittering. Why can’t I reach you? Nana? Oh, Nana! Don’t hate me.”

We inched forward, and there at the edge of the river, on a rock that jutted out toward the water, stood Joy, her arms outstretched as though she were reaching for something in the depths of the river.

Bernie whispered, “I hope she’s not planning to jump. Sophie and Nina, get as close to her as you can without endangering yourselves. Mars, Spenser, and I will walk around in back of her. When you see my light flash twice, distract her, and we’ll move in to grab her.”

Branches cracked as they plowed through the bushes. Nina and I eased forward. We reached the edge of the river, and didn’t dare go farther. One more step and we would have fallen several feet and slid into the water.

Two quick bursts of light flashed behind Joy.

“Joy?” I started with a very soft singsong voice so she wouldn’t be alarmed. “Joy?”

“Nana! I’ll get your ring back.”

I had no idea what she meant. What if I said the wrong thing, and she plunged into the river?

Nina whispered, “Tell her to take a step back.”

“Joy . . . step back. It’s Nana, Joy. I want you to step backward.”

“I hurt her,” she moaned. “It was evil of me.” Her wail turned into a nightmarish scream, like she had been attacked.

I feared she had jumped.

Nina shone her light directly on Joy. Thank heaven. She’d cried out because Bernie had grabbed her around the waist. She kicked her legs like a wild woman and fought him. He turned around and passed her to Spenser, who held fast while Mars tried to calm her.

They carried her out of the brush. She stopped fighting them but talked nonstop. None of it made any sense. She tried to walk, but staggered as though the earth were sliding away underneath her.

For the second time that night, we called 911.

While we waited for the rescue squad to arrive, she answered our questions politely, but seemed embarrassed when she had trouble finding words. She also conversed with people who weren’t there, which I thought extremely worrisome.

Mars pulled me aside. “I found Nick’s number on the cell phone in her purse. He’s waiting for her at the emergency room.” He glanced over at Natasha. “I know it’s my turn to take Daisy, but given the situation with Martha, I think it might be better if Daisy stayed with you tonight. Is that okay?”

“It’s always okay.” I was glad to know someone would be looking after Joy, too. “Do you think this has anything to do with that sting she complained about earlier?”

Mars shrugged. “It’s very bizarre. Bernie says he’s seen people act like this under the influence of hallucinogens. I hope it’s not related to what the general has, or we could all be in trouble. Do you feel funny?”

“No.” I hadn’t given it any thought, but I felt fine.

“Me, either.”

Bernie joined us. “Did you hear her say that she hurt someone and it was evil? Could she have been talking about Muffin?”

“Muffin? You think Joy murdered Muffin?” asked Mars.

“Shh. It’s possible.” I watched Joy play patty cake with someone who wasn’t there. “Those were pretty condemning words. On the other hand, maybe the person who murdered Muffin slipped Joy something tonight.”

The paramedics made quick work of securing Joy to a gurney. They asked us questions about what she’d had to eat and drink, but none of us were experiencing anything remotely similar. I relayed the information about the sting she’d felt earlier, but other than that, there wasn’t much we could do. Our panic over her condition waned a hair when the ambulance pulled away.

“Could we all take different routes home tonight?” asked Mars. “Just in case Martha is running along the street somewhere.”

Mars had grown attached to her. Even Natasha seemed upset. Their long faces left no mistake that they were heartbroken.

I walked Daisy to my car. We hopped in, and I rolled down the rear windows. It might be silly to think she would bark if she saw Martha, but she had barked at dogs on the street before. It couldn’t hurt.

We drove to the tent to pick up Francie and Duke. On the way home, we scanned the quiet streets, on the alert for dogs.

We arrived at my garage without seeing a single one. Francie and Duke went home through the gate that joined our properties, and I trudged to my kitchen door with a heavy heart.

Mochie greeted Daisy and me with a long kitty stretch and a yawn. I picked him up and carried him to my den to check for messages. Nothing.

It was too late to call anyone to check on General German. Other than prowling the streets of Old Town, there wasn’t much I could do. I suspected worry about the general, Joy, and Martha would prevent me from sleeping. The night air had been cold, so I heated milk for hot chocolate. I spooned rich powdered chocolate and sugar into a mug and added just enough water to dissolve them before stirring in the milk. I turned off the lights and padded into the sunroom where I curled up on the loveseat. Daisy sprawled at my feet, and Mochie jumped up on the loveseat, forcing me to change my position so he could snuggle on my lap.

I stared out into the dark backyard, lighted only by a few strategically placed solar lights that were mostly just decorative.

Mochie purred as I sipped my hot chocolate and contemplated the evening’s disasters. Normally, Humphrey would have stayed with us and helped search for Martha. But he’d left with everyone else, undoubtedly at Renee’s urging. Mars would say that I was jealous. I smiled at the thought. That was complete nonsense. I cared about Humphrey, though. He’d become a close friend, and I hated to think he might be hurt by Renee. I didn’t like the way she’d appeared to ignore him at the feast, or the way she’d used him for everything from running her booth to fetching her furniture. Helping friends was fine. I had nothing against that. But chances were good that either she or Joy had killed Muffin during an argument. I’d dismissed the possibility that Renee might have planned to pin the murder on Humphrey, but maybe I’d been too hasty. She had no problem using him for everything else she needed.