Dying for Cupcakes

by Donna Doyle

  Sammy wondered how she had never before realized that Heather spoke in nothing but questions. “Well, things happen, you know.” She thought she would spend an evening dishing out all the emotional trauma of what had happened between herself and Greg, but it suddenly didn’t seem like something she wanted to discuss. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

  “Me? You don’t think I would actually get out of this town, do you? I mean, I’ve tried, but there’s just nothing else out there, you know? Sometimes you have to pick the evil you know instead of the one you do know.”

  “I suppose that can be true sometimes.” Sammy grabbed a napkin to catch the grease that dripped from her burger onto her hand. “I guess I’m doing a little of the same, coming back to my hometown like this. Where are you working?”

  Heather sighed as she picked at the lid of her cup. “I’m still at the bowling alley. Some old place I’ve always been. I was engaged to Billy York for a little while, but we broke it off.”

  “Oh? How come?” But Sammy already knew. Billy York was bad news, and even though Heather seemed like she maybe wasn’t the most upstanding citizen in town these days, she was probably better off without him.

  Her old friend waved a fry through the air, brushing off her former relationship. “We didn’t do anything but fight. I didn’t mind for a while. It was kind fun, you know? But who wants to be in a relationship like that? It might be good enough for some, but not for me.”

  “That much I can understand.” As much as Sammy had been looking forward to coming out and having dinner with an old friend, she was starting to regret it. Heather had changed a lot. Maybe they both had, but either way it made it feel like she had joined a stranger at their table. They could get along, but they weren’t necessarily friends any longer. She wondered if she would find anyone in town that was still the same person she had known back when she lived here. “Nobody needs that kind of drama.”

  “Speaking of drama,” Heather said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “I heard you got taken down to the police station the other night.” She grinned as though this was a good thing while she reached for the bottle of ketchup.

  Sammy pulled in a deep breath. She knew the subject would be unavoidable. A small town like Sunny Cove was full of grapevines, and people kept their ears constantly pressed to them. She remembered just how bad it had gotten when her dad had been arrested. For an entire week, she had stayed home from school just so she wouldn’t hear all the kids gossiping and spreading lies. “That’s true. But I was only questioned, not arrested.” It seemed important to make that point clear.

  “So did you do it?” Heather leaned across the table, awaiting Sammy’s confession.

  “Of course not!” It shocked Sammy that her old friend could even think such a thing. “Why would I poison someone?”

  “Well, the rumor is that you did it out of revenge for your dad.” Somewhat disappointed, Heather sank back into her side of the booth and poked a long-nailed finger at her fries.

  Adrenaline and anger mixed in Sammy’s veins. “People are saying that?” Somehow, she had imagined that her conversation with Barnes had been a private one. She had been a fool.

  “It’s just a rumor,” Heather replied dismissively. “I wouldn’t worry about it. And old Judge Jones is dead, so you don’t have to worry about him locking you away just for fun.”

  Sammy swiped her hands down her face. This was awful. “I’m not worried about that, because I didn’t do anything wrong. I baked the cupcakes, I gave one to Sheriff Jones, but that was it. I didn’t poison it.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to justify it to me. I believe you.” She took a long pull of her soda and swished it around her mouth. “I think they need to add more syrup. This tastes awful.”

  But Sammy already knew that nothing at the Hamburger Hideaway was going to taste as good as what they served at Just Like Grandma’s, and she didn’t really care if Heather believed her or not. “It’ll all blow over. I’ve got a job and a place to stay, so I’m already doing much better than most people who move halfway across the country without much notice.”

  “Yeah, I heard you were at Helen’s. Every time someone mentions that poisoned cupcake, they turn right around and mention how good your baking is.” Heather sounded almost sarcastic, but that seemed to just be the normal tone of her voice.

  “I’m lucky that she’s been so supportive of me. She waited at the restaurant until Barnes brought me back and made sure I got into my apartment okay. Things have been a little bit awkward, but I think they’ll be okay.” Poor Helen had to endure the crime scene investigation team swarming her restaurant, swabbing and sampling everything in sight, and yet she had still made sure that Sammy was taken care of when she got back. It gave Sammy a lot of hope to know she wasn’t completely alone. Her apartment wasn’t huge, but it was enough for just her. She still had a lot of work before she was completely settled in, but she would get there.

  “So that’s it? You’re not going to do anything?”

  Sammy looked across the table at Heather. “Do anything about what?”

  “About the poisoning!” Heather looked indignant at having to explain it. “You’re the prime suspect, Sam. I don’t know this Barnes guy, but you can’t just rely on him to clear your name. He wants to put someone behind bars just so he can say he did it. You need to get an attorney or find the real criminal or something.”

  The thought hadn’t occurred to her, and Sammy felt the weight of it sink onto her shoulders. Maybe Heather was right. If it was up to Barnes, she would have stayed in jail the night Alfred had eaten that cupcake. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Me, neither, but I wouldn’t just sit around. You’ll think of something. In the meantime, you want to go have some fun?” Heather waggled her eyebrows.

  “I wasn’t aware there was any fun to be had in Sunny Cove.” As a kid, she’d spent her time riding her bike around the neighborhood or playing at the park. Once she was in high school, she and the other kids drove laps around town and went down to the lake on hot days. The options for fun and entertainment had been few and far between.

  “Oh, trust me. There’s plenty of fun to be had in this town if you know where to look for it.” A slow smile spread across Heather’s face.

  Sammy wasn’t sure what her old friend had in mind, but she didn’t make it sound particularly appealing. It was early in the evening yet, and she had the rest of the night off from Just Like Grandma’s, but she didn’t want to go running off to some house party or get drunk in a barn. “I have to work in the morning, and I still have a lot of boxes to unpack. I think I’ll head home. Thanks anyway.”

  “Okay.” Heather stood and put her trash in a nearby can. “Suit yourself. Don’t unpack too much in case you end up in the pokey.” She grinned and waggled her fingers as she walked out the door.

  Sammy sighed. Maybe she should have just gone to a completely different town where nobody knew her at all.

  Chapter Five

  It was easy to throw herself into her work the next day. Sammy went downstairs early to make glazed donuts, something that she knew would go over well with the breakfast customers. Then she helped Johnny with some dishes before stepping out onto the dining floor to bus tables and bring out plates of bacon and eggs.

  In a way, it was nice to have so many jobs to do. She never had to slow down or stop simply because the lunch rush was over or because she had baked enough for the day. There was always something to do, and she liked it that way.

  “Got any of those donuts left?” asked a man at the counter in a business suit. “I already had one, and I’m on a diet, but I don’t think I would turn down another one.”

  Flattered, Sammy stepped into the back to get a new tray of them. “Coming right up. I’m glad you’re enjoying them. I made them myself.” She wasn’t trying to brag, but she knew that customers appreciated knowing where the food came from.

  He had immediately snatched the treat from his plate
, but he looked up at her with surprise before he took a bite. “Really? You know how to make donuts? I thought they all came in from factories.”

  She giggled. “I know. We’re so used to getting them in boxes, but they’re really not too hard to make, especially when they’re just plain glazed donuts.”

  “Well, those are my favorite. You should start selling them by the dozen. I would buy them to take to the office.”

  Sammy refilled his coffee. “That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Helen about that.”

  “You don’t need to talk to her about anything. You could start your own bakery. If the other stuff you make is half as good as this, then you’d have it made.” He bit into his donut, immediately following it with a sip of coffee, sat back, and closed his eyes with satisfaction.

  “I appreciate that, but this is her place, after all.” Maybe this guy was right, and she could make it on her own. But not only would that involve a lot of work and overhead, she felt she owed Helen a little something for being there for her. The older woman had allowed her to live and work in her building even though she was suspected of attempted murder. Most people wouldn’t be so understanding.

  “Suit yourself. I’ll be back later in the week for more.” He put his payment on the table and left.

  “Waitress!” called a shrill voice from across the room.

  Sammy turned to see a woman in her forties holding up an empty coffee mug. “Are you going to get me a refill, or would you rather stand there and flirt all day?”

  She most certainly hadn’t been flirting with the man at the counter, but her denial wouldn’t make the customer any happier about it. “Here you are. Thanks for your patience. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No, I…” the woman broke off as she studied Sammy’s face. “You’re Sammy Beaumont, aren’t you?”

  It was no surprise that someone would recognize her. Sammy had actually been more surprised to find out just how many people in Sunny Cove she didn’t know anymore. Some of the older generation had passed away, those her age had brought in people from other towns to be their husbands and wives, and there was the fact that she had been gone for so long. The backdrop was the same, but so many of the characters were different. “It’s Baker now, but yes.”

  “Well then, get back! Helen! Helen! I want you to wait on me!” The customer shooed Sammy away with her hands, her diamond rings glittering.

  Helen came bustling over. “What’s the matter, Julia?”

  The customer flicked her fingers toward Sammy as though she was a filthy stray dog on the street. “How can you let this woman touch the food? We all know what she did!”

  The owner heaved a sigh, and from the tired look in her eyes, Sammy could tell this wasn’t the first time she’d had this conversation. “Sammy didn’t do anything wrong. I ate one of those cupcakes myself, and I’m standing right here in front of you.”

  But Julia didn’t seem convinced. “Still, I’d rather know exactly who’s been near my food, if you know what I mean.”

  “Sammy, could you go into the kitchen and see how Johnny’s doing with the soup of the day, please?” It was Helen’s nice way of dismissing her, since they both knew Johnny didn’t need any help with the soup. He might not talk, but he was a very competent cook.

  “Of course.” Sammy went through the swinging door and turned to lean against the wall. “I swear, if one more person mentions poison cupcakes, I’m going to scream.”

  Johnny gave her a sympathetic look and returned to his grill. He had several hamburgers going, all of which looked much better than the grease patties the Hamburger Hideaway served up.

  Helen joined them a few minutes later, a crease of concern on her brow. “Sammy, honey, I think we need to keep you in the back for a while,” she said quietly.

  “She doesn’t bother me,” Sammy assured her. “I can handle it when customers don’t think I’m good enough to wait on them. I won’t get much in the way of tips, but they’ll figure it all out once this mess is over with.”

  Helen didn’t look so convinced. “I hate to put it this way, but I think it might be bad for business to keep you out on the floor. It’s funny, because people are certainly going crazy over your food, but I don’t know that they’ve all put two and two together.”

  “But—”

  “No, now don’t make this any harder on me than it already is. I never could have been more blessed than to have you come work for me at the time you did. I know my restaurant and that apartment up there are in good hands, and I know you didn’t do anything to Alfie besides give him a little treat. I ate a cupcake myself, so I know they weren’t poisoned.”

  Johnny rubbed his stomach in agreement.

  “Why do you call him Alfie?” That was at least the second time Sammy had heard Helen refer to the sheriff that way, and it struck her as funny despite the dire state of affairs.

  Ms. Honeycutt smiled fondly. “I knew him when he was just a little boy. His parents lived across the street from me, and little Alfie Jones was always chasing his ball into my front yard. One time, I found him climbing the apple tree in my front yard. As he got older, he insisted that everyone start calling him Al. Old habits die hard, though, and I was always a little amused at how angry he would get when I still called him Alfie.”

  Sammy couldn’t help but smile back. It was a cute story, even if the man they spoke of was in tentative condition at the hospital. “Speaking of, I wonder if you might help me. Someone suggested to me that I should look into this whole case and find out who really poisoned Sheriff Jones. That way I can clear my name.”

  Helen pressed her lips together and tipped her head to the side, her long braid swinging across her back. “That sounds like a dangerous thing to do.”

  “It might be,” Sammy shrugged. “But I don’t know if I can count on Sheriff Barnes to find the real culprit. He seemed more interested in throwing me in jail than in hearing the truth.”

  “And you want to avoid the same thing happening to you that happened to your father. I can understand. But you’re already in some trouble just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I would hate to see that get any worse for you.”

  She made a good point, but Samantha wasn’t quite ready to let this go. “I’ll be in real trouble if Barnes finds a way to put the blame on me. I don’t want to say he’s a bad guy; I’m sure he’s just doing his job. But I’m scared, Helen. You say you’ve known Alfred Jones since he was a little kid. Is there anyone else who might have had it in for him? Maybe that guy he chased in here that day?” It seemed as though Sheriff Jones had been very kind to the man who tried to hide under the prep table, but that was the only possibility she knew of.

  Tapping one finger against her lips, Helen rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “That’s an interesting thought. I can’t say I’ve ever thought of Alfie as having very many enemies. He’s a wonderful man. I’m surprised he’s not married, to be honest. Any young woman in their right mind would be lucky to have him. I mean, he dated Sonya McTavish for a little while, but it was a good thing they broke it off, if you ask me.”

  “What happened?” Sammy pounced on the idea. A broken heart could easily be the motive behind a contaminated cupcake.

  But Helen brushed off the idea. “Sonya isn’t my favorite person, but she couldn’t have done anything like that. She and the sheriff only went on a few dates, I heard they had an argument of some sort, and then she up and moved to California or Florida or somewhere. But she hasn’t been in town for months.”

  “Okay. So could she have someone here, a friend who could have done this for her?” Sammy knew she was grasping at straws, but she had to find some lead to follow.

  “It’s possible, but I don’t know who it would be.”

  Sammy leaned against the fridge. “There’s got to be someone else. I can’t imagine a sheriff would be friends with everyone.”

  “I think Alfie would have been a few years ahead of you in school, so you might not hav
e known him very well when you still lived here. But he’s always been a good man, and that’s why people voted him in as sheriff. Sure, he’s made some arrests and pulled people over, but as far as I’ve heard he’s always been nice about it.”

  Glancing at the prep table across the room and reliving her first evening in Sunny Cove, Sammy asked, “And you’re sure that Austin guy wouldn’t have done it? He was right near the cupcakes. I don’t know if he touched anything or not, because I was just trying to keep up with everything.”

  Helen shook her head. “Austin Absher is a soul to be pitied. He does get himself in trouble quite a bit for stealing, but I have my suspicions that he only does it because he’s not taken care of very well at home. He’s got the mind of a child, and he doesn’t really know any better. He steals when he’s hungry, Alfie picks him up and calms him down, and then he takes him back home.”

  “He seemed to know an awful lot of other facts, even if he’s not sure about right and wrong,” Sammy pointed out. “He recited the sheriff’s address, and he knew what day of the week Christmas was on over two decades ago.”

  “A rare talent, but not one that he’s able to use very well, I’m afraid. The boy has a mind like a steel trap, and he remembers every single thing he’s ever seen or heard. It’s a wonder, and I suppose that could mean he knows how to poison someone, but I don’t think he ever would. You saw how willingly he went with the sheriff once he knew he had been caught.”

  Sammy felt a wave of sadness wash over her. “Isn’t there anyone who can help him?”

  “His uncle is supposed to be his guardian, but like I said, I don’t think he’s doing a very good job of it.” Helen wrung her hands and shook her head.

  That was a horrible situation, but it also wasn’t getting her anywhere in her investigation. It was something Sammy knew she would have to come back to, though. “What about you, Johnny? Do you know anybody who might be so mad at Alfred Jones that they would do this to them?”