The Cupcake Capers Box Set

by Polly Holmes

  She raised an eyebrow. “Murder.”

  “I knew I had the majority of the votes, and if Hutson wasn’t there to stop me, I was sure I could push it through. I was in too far. It was the only way.” His tone was harsh and edgy.

  “And I suppose framing CC’s Simply Cupcakes was just pure luck.”

  “You being in the wrong place at the right time was just an added bonus. Who do you think leaked that story to the paper in the first place?” He smiled and her gut revolted. “Yours truly.”

  She shook her head. “Murder doesn’t solve anything. You lied about the affair, what else have you been lying about, Thomas?”

  Charlotte cringed as his spine-chilling laugh hit her fair in the chest. “And you thought you were a good actress. Now, enough talking. First, I’ll take care of you and then your nosey partner in crime, Liam.” He lunged for her and she contracted her body and jumped out of the way.

  The fear screaming through her body raked up to catastrophic levels. Liam. No. She should never have involved him in the first place. He’s in danger because of me.

  “How are you going to explain my body, then?” she demanded. Her gaze caught the pile of dirty saucepans stacked on the edge of the bench an arm’s length away. A plan of escape formed in her mind, but she’d only get one shot. All those years of discus practice at school were about to pay off. She hoped.

  “That’s easy,” he said as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “I came prepared, I have your typed confession and suicide note right here. Mr Hutson discovered you’ve been embezzling funds from CC’s Simply Cupcakes and when he confronted you, rather than confess, you decided to silence him. You were so distraught over your actions of poisoning poor Mr Hutson that you couldn’t live with the guilt any longer and decided to end it.”

  She held her breath. “No-one is ever going to believe that.”

  “Oh, after my award-winning performance today, I think I can make them believe anything,” he said making a beeline for her. “Now come here.”

  “Ahhhh,” she screamed and headed for the saucepan pile. He was close behind, but in a split second, she had a pan in her trembling hand. Charlotte turned and pitched in at Thomas’ head, scoring a bullseye. His body slumped to the ground, his arm taking out the glass bowl on the end of the bench. The syringe scooted across the kitchen floor. She panted, a loud crash registered behind her. She bolted toward the front door, slamming straight into a wall of pumping muscle.

  ****

  Something isn’t right. Why would Charlotte ignore his phone calls? His mouth went dry. Maybe his kiss had affected her more than he’d realised. Butterflies had his stomach doing summersaults. Eager to find out, he’d parked Lincoln’s car out front and was just about to ring the doorbell when he heard faint voices, followed by a female scream.

  His heart plummeted. Then he heard a thump and the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. “Charlotte,” he yelled trying the doorknob but it was locked. Afraid for her safety, he pulled back and rammed his shoulder into the heavy wood. It took two attempts before the lock broke and he barged his way in. His heart raced as he stopped to catch a hysterical Charlotte hurtling toward him. She thumped his chest with her fists. “Let me go. I have to get to Liam.”

  Liam froze as his name rolled off her lips. “Charlotte, it’s me, Liam. What the hell is going on?”

  She stilled in his arms and her eyes saw him for the first time since catching her. “Liam?”

  He nodded.

  She threw her arms around his neck and he held her trembling body to his.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Thomas, he’s the one that’s been poisoning people and he tried to kill me,” she blurted.

  “What?” Liam said dumbfounded. He struggled to believe the man they met this afternoon that looked like he’d just walked off the street would kill anyone. His gaze bolted upright as a moan echoed from the kitchen.

  She turned and gasped, fear radiating from her in waves. “I knocked him out with a saucepan, but it sounds like he’s coming to.”

  They had to move fast. “Do you have any rope, something to tie his hands and feet together?” he asked. She stared at him with a blank expression. “Maybe a dressing gown tie or something similar.”

  Her eyes sparkled with recognition. “Yes, yes, I have plenty, how many do you need?”

  “At least three. I’m going to get him into a kitchen chair. You grab the ties and then call the police and tell them what happened. It doesn’t matter if it’s Detective Anderson, just get them here.”

  They both bolted into action and by the time they had Thomas strapped to a chair, the police were storming the house.

  “Miss McCorrson, it’s Detective Anderson,” he called, his gun poised to take out the threat.

  “In the kitchen,” she yelled back.

  Seeing the syringe full of cyanide on the floor shook Liam more than he’d care to admit. His knees buckled every time he thought about how close he’d come to losing Charlotte. Before she had a chance to greet Detective Anderson, Liam threaded his hand in hers and pulled her to his side, gazing at her beautiful emerald-green eyes. “Stay with me.” He watched a myriad of emotions flash across her face, none of which he could decipher.

  “Well, it seems I owe you an apology,” Detective Anderson said as he holstered his gun eyeing Thomas strapped to the chair.

  Charlotte’s gaze whipped around and her jaw dropped open. An apology? Miracles do happen. Detective Anderson never admits he’s wrong. A glow of satisfaction worked its way up her body from her big toe.

  “It looks like you were right. CC’s Simply Cupcakes had nothing to do with the poisonings. You were very lucky things turned out in your favour. This could have gone terribly wrong.”

  Tell me about it. You don’t have to tell me how lucky I am.

  “We still need to get your statements about what happened here tonight. Would you like to do it here or down at the station?” he asked.

  Liam tensed. If he knew he’d get away with it, he’d deck the detective where he stood. After all, Charlotte had solved the case for him. All he had to do was the paperwork. “I’ll bring her down to the station.”

  Detective Anderson nodded. “Okay, then.” He grabbed Thomas from the chair. “I’ll take this piece of garbage out of your hair and expect you shortly.”

  They watched eagerly as Thomas struggled against the restraints. That’ll teach you to mess with my woman. Charlotte turned to face Liam and his heart beat inside his ribcage.

  “I’m glad you came back,” she said.

  He gifted her with a brilliant smile. “So am I.”

  “I mean, if you hadn’t, who knows what could have happened.” She eased her hand from his and slid to the other side of the kitchen.

  The stark coldness left by her body bothered him. “Oh, I think you had things well in hand before I even arrived. You’re one tough woman. But I came back not because you were being held hostage, but because we had unfinished business.”

  She sighed, exhaustion setting in her expression. “If you mean the kiss—”

  “Damn straight, I mean the kiss,” he said cutting her off. “You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the electric spark when our lips touched.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you then,” she said staring him down. “But like I said, we shouldn’t start something we can’t finish. You live on the other side of Australia and long distance relationships suck at the best of times.”

  Liam cleared his throat and ploughed forward, refusing to let her shut him out. “I won’t argue with you there. But what if I don’t want it to finish? What if distance wasn’t an issue?”

  Her jaw dropped open. “What are you saying?”

  So much nervous tension rifled through his body he could barely control its intensity. “I’m saying that you, Charlotte McCorrson, have awakened feelings in me that I have never felt before, and if it means I need to relocate to Ashton Point to see where this goes, so be it. I
t seems I’ve got more to lose if I return to Perth than if I stay.”

  She stood frozen for what seemed like forever and his insides knotted. Had he been wrong? He took a deep breath and curled his fingers into fists. “Say something, please. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

  A huge smile worked its way across her reddened face. “No,” she said as she threw herself into his arms her feet dangling mid-air. “You’re not wrong.”

  Thank heavens.

  Relief swamped him. He wrapped his arms tight around the precious bundle and spun her around. Could life get any better, he thought.

  He eventually placed her down and gazed into her mesmerising eyes. He held her close and kissed the tip of her nose. “Before this goes any further, promise me one thing?”

  “Anything,” she said linking her hands together behind his neck.

  “Next time there’s a murder, can we leave the investigative work up to the real policeman?”

  She grinned sheepishly. “Deal.”

  ****

  Book 2 - Cupcakes and Curses

  Murder and cupcakes, a deadly mix.

  Clair McCorrson has spent the last three years building her business, CC’s Simply Cupcakes with her sister gaining a reputation for mouth-watering excellence in their seaside town of Ashton Point. While Charlotte is the master baker, Clair keeps the business side looking sweet, and if everything goes as planned, she’ll be more than the girl behind the scenes.

  Expanding their business to the nearby town of Watson’s Creek is Clair’s idea, and acquiring the Sweets Mansion is her dream come true, her chance to step out from her sister’s shadow and make it on her own. Clair’s excitement quickly turns sour when she stumbles across the murdered body of a local settlement agent.

  Newspaper headlines screaming Cupcake Killer Strikes Again! Clair’s life seems to be going from bad to worse when rumours of the cursed Mansion begin to surface igniting chaos among the locals. Bodies literally begin to mount up around CC’s Simply Cupcakes and all the evidence points to Clair. Wrongly accused of murder, it’s a race against time to find the real culprit before she’s spends the rest of her life behind bars.

  Chapter One

  SWEAT BEADED CLAIR McCorrson’s forehead as she pulled her aging, red Toyota to an abrupt stop outside the old Sweets mansion. Her gaze caught Mr Hapworth’s charcoal-grey BMW, parked across the street. The words Hapworth Settlement Agents were branded across the door in bright silver script. Clair could barely contain her excitement.

  “I can’t believe this beautiful old house is going to be ours in a matter of minutes.” It was the perfect location to expand their business and open a new coffee and cupcake shop, CC’s Cupcake Haven.

  She’d worked her butt off since opening CC’s Simply Cupcakes with her sister, Charlotte, three years ago. It was Charlotte who had put them on the map, with her divinely scrumptious award-winning cupcakes while Clair kept the business side under control. Their youngest sister, Cassidy, stayed out of the kitchen and focused on her interior design company. What she loved most about CC’s Simply Cupcakes was eating them. Cassidy’s interior design skills had wowed the town folk. Especially, her beautifully designed, vintage-chic-themed interior of the shop.

  They were all in agreeance. It was time to branch out. With Charlotte taking charge of the Ashton Point store and Cassidy focused on her interior design company, it freed Clair to make CC’s Cupcake Haven her own success story. She even had her bank loan approved and was ready to start renovations as soon as the property settled.

  They couldn’t believe their luck when the local real estate agent had found this old mansion in a matter of days, and at a very reasonable price, considering the current real estate market in Australia.

  “Thank goodness Charlotte loves this house as much as I do,” she muttered as she stepped out of the car balancing the box of silver frosted cupcakes in one hand, and her bag and phone in the other. “I hope you have a sweet tooth, Mr Hapworth,” Clair said, her mouth still salivating from the aniseed taste tester she’d sampled before leaving the shop. It was Charlotte’s idea to bring a box of cupcakes, specially designed with Mr Hapworth’s company logo. As a thank you.

  Although Cassidy was away visiting their parents in New York, her tastes mirrored their own. They really couldn’t go past the house when they’d found out it was originally owned by a woman named Sweets. According to Charlotte, it was an omen.

  It was meant to be.

  Clair quickened her step, hopping over a raised paver by the rickety garden gate. She held her breath as the box of treats precariously rocked in her hand, almost tumbling to the ground. “Whoa, that was close. Charlotte would never forgive me if I dropped her master creations.” She glanced at her phone and it flashed seven-fifteen. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being late.” Her nerves twisted her gut into knots.

  Mr Hapworth’s words rolled around in her mind. There’s no reason we shouldn’t settle on time. Don’t you worry about a thing, my dear. I’ll take care of everything.

  She hadn’t heard from him, so, fingers crossed, everything went through as planned.

  As she approached the stained-glass door, she frowned, her gaze searching for Mr Hapworth. They’d agreed to meet on the porch at seven. She bit her bottom lip. Maybe he was waiting inside.

  Should I knock or just go straight in? Mum always said never go in uninvited. Her mother had always taught her good manners. She smiled to herself. Even though her parents lived in New York, she still missed them every day, especially her mother. Clair sucked in a lungful of salty air and tapped her knuckles on the glass.

  Silence.

  The whisper of a warm sea breeze coasting through the nearby trees caught her attention. Clair tapped once more, a little harder this time. The cold sting of the toughened glass was a sharp contrast to the warm summer evening. “Mr Hapworth, are you there? It’s Clair McCorrson.”

  As the wind picked up, the rustle of the trees grew into a dull roar, as if they were coaxing her to enter. Well, he did say meet him here at seven, and his car is parked out front. He has to be inside.

  Excitement spurred her into action as she turned the rickety, old door handle. The high-pitched creak of the door scraping along the tiles resembled fingernails down a chalkboard.

  “Oww,” she said, her entire body cringing at the familiar sound. “This door is definitely the first thing to get fixed.”

  She peeked inside and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. The slowly fading, golden rays of sunset streaming through the front windows were enough light to brighten parts of the dull interior. While it was after seven in the evening, they still had daylight savings on the central coast of New South Wales, which meant it was light ’til around nine. A perfect balmy Australian evening.

  “Mr Hapworth, are you here?” Clair called from the door. Again, silence met her words. Making her way inside, Clair’s gaze scanned the semi-empty house. Her mind raced, excited by the plans she’d already drawn up. She hoped when Cassidy started designing the interior, she’d be able to accentuate its unique charm by keeping most of the old antique furniture left by the previous owner. It would fit perfectly into their vintage-chic branding.

  A shiver ran through her spine, as if someone had just walked over her grave.

  Something’s not right. Where is he? And why hasn’t he come out to meet me? The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

  Edging herself farther into the house she called once again. “Mr Hapworth, it’s Clair McCorrson. I’ve some yummy cupcake treats here for you.” She froze, her words stuck in the back of her throat. All the wind rushed from Clair’s lungs in one forceful exhale. Her gaze fell on the limp body of Mr Hapworth, lying twisted at the base of the staircase.

  “Mr Hapworth,” she said barely above a whisper. The tormented stare of his lifeless eyes glared straight at her. She gasped and her hand shot to her mouth, muffling an impending scream. Clair
stared down in disbelief and her hands started to shake as she caught sight of the pool of thick crimson blood beneath his head. There was no question in her mind. James Hapworth was dead.

  The blood ran cold in her veins. She’d never seen a real dead body, other than her beautiful Grandma when she’d said good-bye at the funeral. This was different, other end of the scale different. It wasn’t at all like in the movies. She stood frozen to the spot for what felt like forever. Clair’s mind raced with what to do next, a million thoughts bombarding her all at once. What do they usually do in the movies? Run.

  Running from your problems never solves anything, her teenage years had taught her that. Clair’s gaze caught the edge of a tattered sideboard to the right of the formal lounge room. She managed to place the cupcake box down before dropping it. Dialling the police, her fingers shook so hard she nearly dropped the phone. “Come on, get it together.”

  In the distance, the creak of the front door was like a clap of thunder rolling in from the sea. She spun, coming face to face with the cold barrel of a gun. Terrified at the prospect of death, her heart skipped a beat.

  “Don’t move.” Robert’s stern voice held her frozen to the spot.

  “R-Robert?” Clair said with a quiver.

  His brow furrowed. “Clair…Clair McCorrson?”

  “Yes, Robert, it’s me.” She glanced down the steely barrel of his gun. “Do you think you could take that gun out of my face? You’re scaring the bejesus out of me.”

  “No can do, I’m afraid. We got an anonymous report that a murder had been committed in this old house.” He peered around behind her, absorbing the scene before him. “And by the looks of it, they may have been right.” His eerie tone stole her next breath.

  Clair’s gaze shot to the lifeless body. “You can’t possibly think I had anything to do with Mr Hapworth’s death.”

  Robert’s eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Mr Hapworth, the settlement agent?”

  Clair’s jaw dropped. Oh, my goodness, he does. Her shaking knees were barely holding her upright. “Um…yes, we were meeting here, only I was running late,” Clair’s voice rose an octave higher with each word. “I was just about to call you,” she said as she held her phone up. “See?”