Confection is Good for the Soul: An Amish Cupcake Cozy Mystery

by Ruth Hartzler

  “It is mysterious,” Sarah agreed. “What is the antidote?”

  “Oral Prussian Blue,” Matilda told her.

  Sarah bent down to stroke her cat. The cat had the same big green eyes as Mr. Crumbles, but this cat was a pretty ginger tabby. “But would knowing the type of poison give you a clue as to the murderer?” she asked Matilda.

  Matilda nodded slowly. “If it is thallium, that will certainly help because it’s no longer available.”

  “What was it used for back when it was available?” I asked her.

  “Rat poison,” she said.

  “Maybe someone had an old bottle of rat poison lying around,” Sarah offered.

  Matilda shook her head. “It’s possible, but it’s highly unlikely. I think it’s been banned for decades. Nevertheless, that’s a good point. I’ll have Eleanor look into that. Still, thallium is an unusual poison and what’s more, it’s not readily available. Jane and I will have to question the vic’s husband to find out if the vic suffered from a skin rash.”

  “And Eleanor can research any current uses of thallium,” I said. “Maybe that will point us in the right direction to the murderer.”

  “I’m sorry I’m of no help to you this time,” Sarah said.

  “No, not at all! I’m most grateful,” Matilda said. “It’s good to be able to discuss these things with you.”

  “I enjoy our discussions about herbs as well,” Sarah said. “Would you do me a favor?”

  “Of course,” Matilda said.

  “Amy Allumbaugh has the flu, so I made some elderberry syrup to take to her. If you could drop by and give it to her on your way back to your sister’s store, that would be a big help. I’ve also made her some Dutch cabbage rolls and a butter pound cake.”

  “We’d be happy to,” I said.

  “Why don’t I drive and you can navigate?” Matilda said rather too gleefully when we reached the car.

  I laughed. “Good try, Matilda. You forget I was raised in these parts. I can easily find my own way to Amy Allumbaugh’s house. What’s more, it isn’t far out of our way.”

  I carried the elderberry syrup to Amy’s porch. I had to knock twice before she came to the door, holding a tissue over her face. She at once broke into a terrible fit of coughing. “I have the flu,” she announced, rather unnecessarily.

  “I’m Rebecca Yoder’s sister,” I began, but Amy interrupted me.

  “You must be Jane!”

  “Yes, and this is my friend, Matilda.”

  “Come in, won’t you. I’m Amy Allumbaugh, but please call me Amy. Don’t get too close to me; I don’t want to give you the flu.” She waved us inside. “Would you mind putting those in the kitchen for me?”

  “Sure,” I said. After we placed the Dutch cabbage rolls and the butter pound cake in the kitchen, I asked Amy if she would like us to make her some meadow tea.

  “Would you mind making me some kaffi instead?” She said. “I’ve been drinking meadow tea for days, but I’ve recovered just enough now that I could really do with a nice cup of coffee.”

  “Sure,” I said again. “Would you like anything to eat?”

  Amy clutched her stomach and shook her head vigorously.

  After I placed the coffee in front of her, I noticed a glossy cupcake cookery book on the table. “That looks familiar,” I said, staring at it.

  “I have an English pen pal,” she said. “She sent it to me for my birthday last week.”

  “Happy birthday,” Matilda and I said in unison.

  I added, “That looks just like Judy Jenkins’s book.” To Amy, I said, “Would you mind if I pick it up and look inside?”

  “Of course not!” Amy said, still keeping her distance from us.

  I looked inside and saw the book was released only a month earlier. “This cookbook was by Karen Francis, Judy’s manager,” I said. “I wonder if Judy knew about it.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t keeping an eye on paperback sales, only ebook sales,” Matilda said, frowning.

  I put the cookbook back on the coffee table. “We’d better check that as soon as we can.”

  This certainly was a development—surely Judy Jenkins wouldn’t have taken kindly to her manager producing a cupcake cookbook.

  Surely it was only a matter of time before Judy found out. Or maybe she already found out and threatened Karen?

  Could Karen be the murderer?”

  Chapter 11

  I spent the morning baking in between serving customers. There was an influx of tourists this morning looking for the Amish experience. They had all stayed at an Amish bed and breakfast in the district and now were on their way back home doing some shopping from Amish venues.

  Our usual stocks had been depleted rather quickly, so I did my best to make more as fast as I could. Thankfully, cupcakes didn’t take too long to bake. The longest time was waiting for them to cool so I could put on the frosting.

  I worked all through my lunch break and Rebecca worked all through hers as well. A lull in the customers didn’t come until mid-afternoon.

  I looked out the window to see if there was another tourist bus on its way. When I saw Eleanor walking along the pavement with Mr. Crumbles on a leash, I covered my eyes with my hands. Finally, I risked peeping between my fingers. It all seemed to be going well until I spotted a man with a large Rottweiler coming her way.

  I clutched my throat and hurried outside.

  “What’s wrong?” Rebecca called after me.

  “Eleanor has Mr. Crumbles on a leash and there’s a big dog heading straight for him,” I said over my shoulder.

  Rebecca hurried to the door hard on my heels.

  I watched as Eleanor headed straight toward the dog. I called to her, but she didn’t hear me. I figured Mr. Crumbles would turn and run away or at least climb up Eleanor or the walls of the nearest building when he saw the dog.

  The dog and the cat were so close now that Eleanor nodded to the man. The man was walking toward me so I was able to see his face. He looked utterly shocked to see a cat on a leash and so did his dog.

  The dog stuck out his nose to take a closer look at Mr. Crumbles. Mr. Crumbles let out the most horrible sound I had ever heard. It was somewhere between a deep growl and a high-pitched scream.

  The dog turned and sprinted away, dragging his hapless owner behind him.

  Eleanor simply shrugged and kept walking.

  Rebecca and I stared at each other in disbelief.

  “Where is everyone?” a voice called from inside the shop.

  I hurried back inside to see Matilda. “Um, err, Eleanor has taken Mr. Crumbles for a walk,” I stammered.

  Matilda ignored me and pushed on. “Eleanor has been quite clever,” she said in a begrudging tone. “She’s found a wonderful way for us to question Karen Francis.”

  I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Exactly what do you have in mind?”

  Matilda’s face glowed. “Oh, it’s entirely Eleanor’s idea of course,” she said. “Karen Francis is on Facebook.”

  “Isn’t everyone?” I said.

  “I’m not,” Rebecca said from behind me.

  “Karen has a Facebook timeline as well, and Eleanor found out that she has a class tonight. We can all go to her class, and that will give us an opportunity to chat with her. We can be all like, ‘Imagine seeing you here!’ She won’t be in the least suspicious. It’s a far better idea than going to her house and telling her the far-fetched story we told Selena Starr.”

  “It worked with Selena Starr,” I protested. “And what exactly is this class? It’s not lion taming or mountain climbing or anything that could cause grievous bodily harm, is it?”

  Matilda laughed uproariously as if I had made the funniest joke imaginable. “Of course not! Nothing like that at all.”

  “Exactly what is it?” I asked her.

  Matilda bit her lip. “It’s self defense.”

  “Self defense!” I shrieked. “That sounds dangerous to me!”

  “Only for th
e victim,” Matilda said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t like the sound of it. Why don’t just you and Eleanor go?”

  “You’ll have to come with us,” Matilda said in an insistent tone. “Besides, self defense is tame. It’s not as if we’re doing a martial arts class where we would have to do any sparring or anything like that. It’s quite tame,” she repeated. “They’ll merely demonstrate where to kick someone or maybe poke them in the eye or throat to render them immobile.”

  “Sounds great,” I said sarcastically.

  My sarcasm appeared to be lost on Matilda. Before I could find a way to wriggle out of it, Brian Birch walked in.

  “Hello, Jane and Matilda,” he said. To Rebecca, he said, “You must be Jane’s sister. I’m Brian Birch.”

  Rebecca shot him a small smile.

  “I’ve come to buy some cupcakes,” he said. “It’s hard being a bachelor. I never cook for myself.” He patted his stomach and looked pointedly at me. I wondered if he was angling for a dinner invitation. I held my breath, hoping Matilda wouldn’t take the hint and invite him.

  “Jane, what would you recommend? I’m going to have them for dinner.”

  “For dinner?” I echoed. “Are you going to eat something else for dinner besides cupcakes?”

  He smiled wryly. “Oh, the life of a bachelor,” he said in a sad tone.

  I shot Matilda a warning look. Thankfully, she remained silent.

  Brian pushed on. “Anyway, Jane, what would you recommend?”

  “We do have a huge range,” I said. “Do you like more traditional cupcakes such as triple chocolate or red velvet cake? Or would you prefer something more Amish like Shoo-fly pie cupcakes or maybe Thimble cookie cupcakes?”

  He pointed to the Amish sour cream spice cupcakes. “I must say those were delicious. I’ll have five of those please and five of the Flat Rock pudding cupcakes.”

  “You’re having quite a big dinner then,” Matilda said.

  “If I don’t get a better offer, that’s what it will have to be,” he said, swiping his card.

  Matilda opened her mouth, but I elbowed her in the ribs and shot her a warning look. I knew she would love to invite him for dinner, simply so she could extract more information from him. I didn’t think that was a good idea since he was a single man around my age and I wasn’t the slightest bit attracted to him.

  Just when I thought I was safe, Matilda said, “Why don’t we cook you a hearty meal? I mean, it can’t be tonight because we have a class, but what about sometime later in the week?”

  Brian winked at me. “That would be wonderful.”

  My stomach sank. I shot a dirty look at Matilda, but she simply smiled in return.

  The store door opened and Detective Damon McCloud walked in. His eyes narrowed when he saw Brian Birch.

  “Ladies, Mr. Birch,” he said.

  Brian took the box of cupcakes from Rebecca. “Thank you,” he said. To Damon he said, “Did you want to speak with me?”

  “No, not this time,” Damon said in even tones.

  “All right then, I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night, Jane.” With that he winked at me again and left.

  My stomach fell. No doubt Damon would think Brian and I were having a dinner date. To my relief, Matilda came to my rescue. “I invited Brian to have dinner with us tomorrow night since he was complaining at length about being a struggling bachelor,” she said. “It was the neighborly thing to do.”

  Damon put his hands on his hips and fixed me with a steely look. “I do hope you’re not investigating.”

  “Oh, investigating? What do you mean?” I said.

  Damon narrowed his eyes. “There’s a murderer on the loose, as you very well know. It’s not safe for you ladies to do any investigating. Please leave it to us, just this time.”

  Matilda stepped in front of me. “Of course, Detective McCloud. Did you suspect we invited Brian to have dinner with us simply because we wanted to ask him questions about the victim?”

  Damon seemed to be at a loss. “I’m just saying that it’s not safe to investigate.”

  “Does that mean you don’t know who did it yet?” Matilda asked.

  “There are several persons of interest,” Damon said, fielding the question. “That means that you shouldn’t trust anyone who is involved with the case.” He shot me a look as he said it.

  “So were you here to question us?” Matilda said.

  Damon shook his head. “I just came to ask you to be careful.”

  “We’re always careful,” Eleanor said. “In fact, that’s my middle name. Eleanor Careful Birtwistle.”

  Damon stood silent for a moment but then said, “All right. But I mean it. I don’t want any of you putting yourselves in danger.”

  With that, he left as abruptly as he had arrived.

  “He’s jealous, Jane,” Matilda said. “He thought you might be having a dinner date with Brian.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I need to take the cupcakes out of the oven,” I said as I walked to the store’s kitchen.

  Was Damon jealous? Or was it only Matilda’s imagination? I thought on it while I sat the cupcakes on the cooling tray. Still, I had worse problems—I had to go to a self defense class that night. I wasn’t looking forward to it. Surely Matilda had booked us into a class for beginners. I certainly didn’t want to get hurt and thrown hard onto a mat like I had seen on TV. I thought about it some more and then decided I didn’t have anything to worry about. It was probably only someone demonstrating how to get out of a chokehold and things like that. I nodded to reassure myself.

  That night, I drove Matilda and Eleanor to the location. To say I was a little uneasy was an understatement. To my surprise, it was held in a dance studio. “It’s where we had the pole dancing lessons,” Eleanor cheerily informed me.

  “The class is for beginners, isn’t it?” I asked for the umpteenth time.

  Eleanor pointed to a big sign. “See! Women’s personal safety and defense training for beginners.”

  That did make me feel a little better. As we walked into the room, I saw the most muscle-bound man I had ever seen. His head was shaven and his skin was glistening. He looked like the epitome of a serial killer. I shuddered at the sight of him. I was already scared and the class hadn’t even started yet.

  Everyone stood around looking nervous. I spotted Karen Francis from behind—her auburn hair was unmistakable.

  “I have a degree in criminal justice,” the burly man who introduced himself as Dennis Conley said. “I’ve worked in private security for years and I have a second degree black belt in karate and a first degree black belt in Aikijitsu. These classes will empower you with the skills and confidence you need to defend yourselves if and when the need arises. Of course, the first rule of self defense is to avoid a dangerous situation. You will always win a fight if you never engage in the fight in the first place. Do you understand?”

  Everyone answered in the affirmative, and I wondered if the man would scream at us to speak more loudly. Fortunately, he did not. He introduced his off-sider, Ron Swann, another man who had worked in private security for some years and had various black belts.

  Ron Swann apologized. “I’m sorry that Natalie can’t be here. She’s recovering from the flu. She was to be your instructor tonight. Are there any questions before we begin?”

  No one spoke, so Ron continued, “In a dangerous situation in which you are threatened, you will have no time to think, so you need to respond instinctively. First of all, Dennis will demonstrate how to get out of a chokehold. If someone comes up behind you and puts his arm around your neck like so, Dennis will show you how to get out of the hold.”

  They demonstrated. Dennis put the crook of his elbow around Ron’s neck. Ron deftly got out of the hold.

  “Now, it’s a question of technique,” Ron said. “No doubt, your attacker will be stronger and more powerful than you, so you need to use technique rather than brute strength to overcome
him. Last week, we focused more on awareness of the situation. That is, tips you can use to keep yourself safe in all environments. Tonight, we’re focusing on physical technique. These can be used by anyone of any age and any ability, even old ladies.” He looked at Eleanor and Matilda as he said it.

  “You speaking to us?” Matilda said.

  Ron did not appear to notice the edge in her voice. “Yes. Feel free to sit this out and just be observers if it gets too much for you,” he said. I’m sure he was trying to be kind, but his tone came across as overly condescending.

  “Sure, I’ll bear that in mind,” Matilda said.

  Ron smiled broadly at her. “Here’s something that everyone, or rather most of you, can do. We’re going to practice a kick to a vulnerable spot. This is more of a warm up before we get into the technical matters in the class. Now remember, when you kick someone in a vulnerable spot, you need to keep your toes bent down. If your toes are bent upward and you land a kick, you could easily break your toes. Safety first, ladies!”

  Dennis agreed. “But if you kick someone in the stomach or the chest, you need to bend your toes backward. Of course, we don’t actually teach you to kick anyone in the chest or the stomach region, but I just need to see how hard you all can kick so I can get an idea of your fitness and training level.” He looked at Matilda and Eleanor. “You two ladies don’t need to line up for this. I’m sure I have a good idea of your abilities already.”

  “We’d like to try,” Matilda said.

  He shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t want you to hurt yourselves.”

  Everyone lined up. Ron held a large, blue body shield in front of himself. When it was my turn, I kicked as hard as I could. It seemed to make no impression whatsoever on Ron. I looked at Dennis who nodded encouragingly and gave me the thumbs up. Oh well, I suppose I wasn’t a complete failure. At least I had bent back my toes as he suggested.

  Matilda was right behind me. “Would you like me to lower the bag so your little foot can reach it?” Ron said in an encouraging tone.

  “No, you’re fine,” Matilda said. She charged at him and her foot shot out. Ron flew backward several steps into the wall. I looked at Dennis to see his mouth had fallen open, forming a perfect ‘O’.