Cupcake Overload

by Bethany Lopez

  “From the salon in Greenswood?” I asked, hoping that was the case, since I knew Clarice pretty well and I knew she’d talk to me.

  “That’s the one,” Tony answered.

  He was about to go back inside when I stopped him and asked, “Do you know the yuppy douche’s name?”

  Tony’s lip twitched, and I realized that if he cleaned himself up and put some meat on his bones, he’d be a pretty handsome guy.

  “Carl, or some lame-ass shit like that. He works at the bank in Greenswood.”

  Of course he does, I thought as I watched him disappear inside the bagel shop.

  My ex, Eric, was the Branch Manager at the bank, and no matter how much I tried to avoid him whenever possible, my cases seemed to keep taking me back to that damn bank.

  I took my sandwich back to the van and ate it while I listened to a morning show on the radio and thought about what my next move was going to be for Samantha. The ex seemed like the logical first stop, followed by Clarice, and then her job.

  My mind wandered to my move this weekend, then, inevitably, to Cade.

  Should I try to call or text him? I wondered, then thought, Hell no. He’s the one who acted like an ass, so he should be the one to get ahold of me and apologize.

  I sighed, because although I knew I was right, I really, really missed him.

  “Lila,” Eric said from the doorway of his office when I walked in to the bank. “Come in.”

  He gestured into his office and I really had no choice but to step inside. I was doing my best to get over my anger at the humiliation he’d caused me, and keep the peace for the kids. I’d even (mostly) stopped calling him The Douche, which I thought was really big of me.

  That didn’t mean I was in a place where I wanted to hang out with him.

  “Hey, I actually wasn’t here to see you,” I began, keeping my voice gentle to soften the words.

  “Oh, well, I was about to call you, so you saved me from that task.”

  “The task of dialing your phone?”

  Okay, maybe that didn’t sound very nice.

  Eric sighed.

  “You’re not going to tell me you can’t take the kids this weekend, are you? It’ll be so much easier for me to move if they aren’t under foot.”

  “No, that’s not it, I’m happy to have them, and they’re really excited about the move,” he replied, pushing his hair up off of his forehead. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Mary away to the Florida Keys next week, and while we’re there, I’m going to propose.”

  I noticed that he was watching me nervously, but was too busy trying to decide whether his announcement had any effect on me.

  I was pleased to realize it didn’t.

  I wasn’t pissed, or sad, or even hurt. I think I was actually happy for him, and for Mary, and for our kids. Mary was a nice woman, and the kids loved her. It would be good for everyone involved.

  “That’s great, congratulations.”

  Eric’s surprise was apparent, but shouldn’t have been. He’d told me a few months ago that their relationship was headed in this direction. Maybe he was worried that I held some residual feelings for him, and finding out he was getting remarried would hurt me, or something.

  All I felt was relief. It was like a giant, bulletproof, steel door had just been shut on that chapter in my life.

  “If that’s all, I need to talk to one of your employee’s … Carl?”

  Eric looked confused for a moment, then he asked, “You mean, Carlton? The man whose ex-girlfriend was just killed?”

  “Yes,” I replied happily. Maybe this case is going to be easier than I first thought. “Can you point me in his direction?”

  “I could, but he’s taken a leave of absence. I can’t say I blame him, he’s devastated over Samantha’s murder.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Are you sure you should be working a murder investigation? Is it safe? After what happened last time…”

  “Eric,” I replied evenly, trying to keep my calm. “This is my job, and honestly, I don’t want to have this discussion with you. It’s none of your business what I do with my life. As long as the twins are safe, you don’t have a say.”

  “I know that, Lila, I just want you to be careful. I know I screwed up, and we aren’t married anymore, shoot, we aren’t even friends. But, you’re still the mother of my children, and I don’t want anything else to happen to you.”

  “I appreciate it,” I replied, even though I really didn’t. “I’m gonna go. Good luck next week.”

  “Thanks,” Eric said, then walked me to the door of his office and gave me a small wave before shutting the door.

  I was out the door and thinking I deserved a stop at Amy May’s after the day I’d had, when I ran into Mary. She was clutching a takeout bag in her hands, and her face turned from peaceful to wary when she realized it was me.

  “Oh, uh, hey, Delilah,” Mary stuttered. “How are you?”

  I’d known Mary for years. She’d attended all of the parties we’d held in our home when Eric and I were married. She was a very nice woman. About five years older than me, with a matronly feel to her. She was the kind of woman that seemed destined to be a grandmother. Imagine my shock and confusion when Eric had told me that Mary was the woman he was seriously dating after cheating on me with Slutty Shirley Finkle. I’d figure he’d go through a mid-life crisis and date someone ten years younger or something.

  Although they’d moved in together, and she spent time with the kids, we hadn’t spoken since she started dating Eric.

  All in all, it was a pretty awkward moment.

  “I’m good, Mary. You?”

  “Um, pretty good. Just grabbing some lunch,” she replied, then we both stood there just staring at each other.

  “Well,” she started, and was about to go inside, when I had an idea.

  It may seem in bad taste to use the fact that she probably felt weird around me, and maybe a little guilty, to get information that I needed for a case. But, in all honestly, I didn’t feel bad about it at all.

  “Hey, Mary, would you happen to know where Carlton lives?” I asked, keeping my voice sweet and innocent. “I heard about Samantha, and came by to give my condolences, but he isn’t in. I want to stop in and check on him, make sure he’s holding up okay.”

  “Oh, that’s very sweet.” Mary looked toward the building, as if she were asking Eric telepathically if it was all right for her to give out private information. She must have come to the conclusion that the fact that since I was the ex-wife of the Branch Manager, I still had some sort of need to know, because she turned back to me and said, “He has a condo over on Twenty-Fifth, in that new complex. It’s one of the first places on the street. Number five, I think.”

  “Awesome, thanks so much,” I said as I started walking backwards down the street toward my van. “I’ll let him know you guys are thinking of him in this terrible time.”

  “Thanks, Delilah,” Mary managed, then rushed into the bank.

  I parked on Twenty-Fifth, then sauntered down to condo number five, surveying the area as I walked.

  It was a nice, new neighborhood with a basketball court, a clubhouse, and pool. It didn’t seem like the kind of place that would house a murderer, but you never could tell just by an address. Lovers, spouses, and exes were usually prime suspects in a murder investigation for a reason, so I needed to be on my toes with this guy.

  I knocked and waited, then after a few seconds of silence, rang the doorbell.

  I was about to go peer in the window when I heard a shuffle behind the door, and then it opened and a pair of eyes peered out.

  “Who are you?” a male voice asked suspiciously.

  “I’m Lila, Delilah Horton,” I replied. “Are you Carlton?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I came by to check on you, see how you’re doing,” I said, taking a step closer. “I’m sorry about Samantha.”

  I heard what sounded l
ike a choked sob, and then the face disappeared. I could heard the sound of his feet sliding away from the door, as if he couldn’t be bothered to lift them high enough to walk properly.

  I took the cracked door as an invitation to enter, so I pushed the heavy wood slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the dark interior of the condo, then walked into the house. I left the door ajar, just in case I needed a quick getaway, then walked down the hallway.

  The place was a mess. I’m talking clothes, dirty dishes, and trash everywhere. It looked like a rat’s paradise.

  Carlton was laying face down on the couch, and no shit, he was bawling his eyes out.

  I stood there for a minute, fighting the urge to run away and never come out, then I bit the bullet and walked forward. I sat on the coffee table and let my hand hover over his back, before placing it on his shoulder and patting him softly.

  “There, there,” I mumbled, feeling like a gigantic ass.

  “Why?” he bellowed suddenly, his cry half muted by the pillow.

  Carlton sat up and looked at me, his face covered in tears and snot.

  It was disgusting actually, and I had to make myself hold his eyes and not turn my head. When a snot bubble popped out of his nose and lingered, I had to fight the urge to gag.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said again, wondering what I could do or say to get him to stop blubbering. “How long were you and Samantha together?”

  “Three months,” he wailed, his blond hair sticking up in tufts.

  Three months? Isn’t his reaction a little dramatic after only dating someone three months?

  “When was the last time you talked to her?”

  “When we broke up, six months ago,” he replied, then wiped his face with the back of his hand, causing shit to smear everywhere.

  This guy was seriously starting to get on my nerves.

  “Six months,” I asked dryly, thinking Carlton was totally taking advantage of Eric by taking a leave of absence for a girl he’d barely known. “So you hadn’t talked to her on the phone or anything?”

  I was getting the sinking feeling that Carlton was a dead lead.

  He shook his head, then looked at me pitifully and wailed, “She was the love of my life.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, although nothing that I came up with sounded nice or comforting, so I patted his knee and kept my mouth shut.

  “Well,” I began as I stood up and inched toward the exit. “Again, I’m so sorry for your loss…”

  “Who did you say you were again?” Carlton asked as he laid back down.

  “I’m Lila, and I’m looking into Samantha’s murder.”

  “Like the cops?”

  “Yeah, like that, but I’m a PI.”

  “Well, when they were here, I forgot to tell them about the phone call. Can you pass it along?”

  That stopped me in my tracks.

  “Phone call?”

  “Yeah, I had a guy call here a couple times looking for Samantha.”

  “Do you remember his name?” I asked, praying that he did.

  “No,” Carlton shook his face in the pillow and my hope died. Then he added, “But his number’s still in my phone,” and my pulse started pounding.

  “Can I see it?”

  Carlton’s hand darted out and he pointed toward the TV stand, so I picked up the smart phone and brought it to him, placing it in his outstretched hand.

  He flopped over and brought the phone close to his face, then started pressing buttons.

  I got out my own phone and opened up the memo app on my phone, then waited, poised and ready to jot down the number.

  After he called it out and I saved it, I said, “Thanks, Carlton. I’ll be sure to pass it on.”

  Carlton nodded, then his face turned fierce and he ordered, “Find the fucker who did this to Sammy. He needs to pay.”

  “Will do,” I replied, then got the hell out of there.

  Moving was not my favorite thing, unless it meant I was moving my kids out of our beat-up apartment into our newly renovated house.

  I woke up ecstatic. Eager to get going and get settled into our new home. The kids were with their dad, again, but hopefully they’d be back to their normal visitation schedule after this weekend. I needed snuggle time with my babies.

  I’d hired movers, plus Carmen, Amy May, and Jason were helping as well.

  The movers had come early and got everything packed and loaded, then had dropped the boxes in the rooms I’d directed them to, and taken off after being fed massive amounts of pizza.

  Now, I was in my house, surrounded by boxes, and no longer feeling quite so ecstatic.

  “Ugh, I don’t even know where to start,” I complained as I looked around at all of the boxes. “Why do we have so much stuff?”

  “It’s not so bad,” Amy May assured me. “Once we get going we’ll have it done in a jiffy.”

  “Uh, Lila?” Carmen called tentatively, causing me to turn my pouty gaze to her. “I absolutely love to unpack. I mean, l-o-v-e, love it. It makes my OCD heart sing with joy. If you don’t mind, I’d love to tackle your kitchen.”

  “Are you kidding?” I asked as I rushed forward to pull her into a hug. “You can unpack, put away, feng shui … Whatever your heart desires.”

  “Yay!” Carmen said with a laugh, jumping up and down in my arms.

  I pulled back and said, “I love you.” And I was totally serious. Carmen was the shit.

  “See,” Amy May said with a grin. “We’ll leave Carmen with the hard stuff, and go tackle the twins’ rooms. Jason is out in the backyard going through that tool shed. He’ll be happy for a while.”

  I’m not going to lie, I’d avoided going into Moose’s tool shed like the plague. There was no telling what was back in that thing, and I hadn’t been brave enough to even open the door. What if he had some weird fetish stuff back there, or a pack of wild mice, or a dead body?

  I shuddered just thinking about it. God bless Jason.

  We were about to break apart and move to our respective rooms when we heard the front door open and I thought, I really need to start locking that thing.

  I watched the entryway expectantly, hoping, even as the thought of confrontation scared me, that it would be Cade…

  My heart hammered in my chest when Bea rounded the corner, a bottle of wine in one hand and a basket of assorted cupcakes in the other.

  She stopped when she saw me, her face full of trepidation.

  I hated to think that I’d put that look on her face. That she was now uneasy around me, and unsure of our relationship.

  “I brought cupcakes,” Bea said lamely, letting out what sounded like a half laugh. “I would have come earlier, but I didn’t want to get in the way of the movers, so I’ve been waiting outside for the last few hours for them to leave.” My heart clenched at her admission, and I wanted to go to her, but Bea wasn’t done talking yet.

  “I’m sorry. Not that Shannon and I got married, but that I didn’t tell you right away. I shouldn’t have kept that from you, and I’m sorry that I told everyone else, but didn’t trust you enough to be honest. I’ve talked to Shannon, and we plan to have a reception here in a few weeks. Her parents have money put aside, and want to celebrate with us, and we want to celebrate with our friends. We can still do the Taco Man, margaritas, and the cake, and we’d love it if you’d be there.”

  There was a breath of silence before I launched myself into Bea’s arms.

  “I’m sorry I was such a jerk,” I cried as I cradled her to me.

  I felt movement next to us, and knew that Amy May and Carmen were saving the wine and cupcakes, because a moment later, Bea’s arms surrounded me.

  We held on tight, and may have shed a tear or two. We’d never had a fight before, and I really, really hated it.

  “We okay?” Bea asked as she pulled back and looked up at me.

  “Absolutely,” I replied, then grinned. “Really, you had me when you walked in with the cupcakes.”


  Bea chuckled, then out and out laughed when Amy May quipped, “You had me with the wine.”

  We turned to see that she’d opened the bottle and she and Carmen already had two glasses in their hands. One for them, one for us.

  We grabbed our glasses and held them up for a toast.

  “To Lila’s new home. May it be a wonderful place for her, Elin, and Elena,” Bea said.

  “To Bea and Shannon, may they have a long and happy life together,” I added with a smile.

  “To friendship. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry, sometimes we fight, but we know, we can always count on each other,” Amy May said, and I swear, I had to choke back tears.

  I am turning into a pansy.

  “To unpacking, organizing, and decorating … oh, how I love thee,” Carmen put in, causing us all to laugh.

  “Cheers,” we said together, then toasted each other.

  It was late; the girls, and the wine, were long gone. I was nibbling on a cupcake while I researched furniture online for a dining room table, since I’d deemed mine as too small for this space.

  I also wanted a new sectional sofa, some patio furniture, and since my bedroom was much bigger now, something to make a little sitting area for me to read.

  I was licking chocolate off my fingers and wishing for the hundredth time that I’d asked Eric to bring the kids back tonight, instead of tomorrow, when I felt a chill run up my spine and swiveled in my seat.

  Cade stood there.

  His hair was pulled back, in a loose bun with large chunks hanging loose, as if he’d put it back haphazardly. In a hurry.

  He was wearing a dark-gray tank top, with forest-green work pants, a dark belt, and chains hanging down across the side of his thigh.

  He looked tan, like he’d spent the past few days in the sun. His gaze was intent on me, but I couldn’t read him.

  I could read myself though, and I have to say, I was a little disappointed in the way my hormones were raging right now. I was pissed at him, dammit. He’d acted like a jerk, took Sledge’s word over mine, and had disappeared without a word.

  But, holy shit, he looked good.