Pound Cake Predator

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Pound Cake Predator Page 2

by Constance Barker


  “Hello stranger. I know this week is crazy for you. Figured I’d stop by and see if I could help with anything before I head to work.” Rose’s bright eyes scanned over the already full case and at the ganache that covered my apron. “Woah. How long have you been here?”

  I left the cake in progress on the turntable and wiped my hands clean as I came around to hug her. “You are not going to believe this.”

  Another hour had us seated at a table, rolling truffles between sips of hot, strong coffee. Scooter had come in and was finishing up opening. He gave us space and I appreciated her for it.

  Rose looked about as confused as I felt. “On Vivian’s porch? But...what?”

  I nodded and tossed another chocolate ball into cocoa powder. “Did you know him at all?”

  She shook her head, then tipped it to the side, “Well, not personally. I certainly knew of him. It was hard not to hear about the ruckus he caused. He’s only been in town for what, a year? But it seems like every couple weeks, he pulled another stunt and irritated the cozy denizens of Haverfield.” She rolled her eyes and I laughed.

  “He liked whacking at the beehive that is our town’s social circle?”

  Rose laughed and nodded, brushing a bit of hair from her face and smudging chocolate as she did so. “Never bothered me though. Must not have a dog.” She shrugged and I pointed out the chocolate.

  “I think I’ve got some peanut butter in the back if you want to make that a whole treat?” She stuck out her tongue at me and wiped her face, then licked the offending smudge off her finger. In mock distress, I threw up my hands. “Well now you have to wash your hands. It’s hard to find good help these days.”

  We giggled together a moment and Rose settled back with her coffee, watching me finish rolling the hardening chocolate into small delicious spheres. “Is Vivian alright?”

  I looked up at her tone which was softer than usual. All I could offer was a tired smile, “I think she’s okay. Really shook up last night, but you know her, she does love a bit of drama.”

  Rose nodded but didn’t seem too reassured. “It’s just, I’ve been a suspect in a murder investigation. It’s...not fun,” she finished lamely and sighed. “I’m worried about her. The people in this town don’t need much before they turn on someone. I certainly found that out.”

  I took off my gloves, careful not to smear any more chocolate and caught her hand. Giving it a squeeze, I said, “I know Rose. But she’s got us. And Stella. Honestly, I’d love to see the whole town try to take on Stella once she gets dug in.” A small smile broke through Rose’s worried face and I pulled away to toss her a truffle. “Have one on the house.” I waited until she put it in her mouth before adding, “And don’t worry too much. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  She still managed to let out a groan of exasperation and dropped her head to the table in response.

  Chapter 4

  The day passed in one huge blur. I got my regular customers, but it was so hard to focus. By the time I could leave, I was exhausted.

  However, I knew I'd promised to swing by Stella’s place. Vivian was going through a hard time, and I needed to be there for her.

  When I got there, the tiny house smelled of smoke. I knew something was off. Vivian didn’t smoke and Stella had quit a decade before. However, when I went into the kitchen, I saw Stella finishing a cigarette and immediately lighting another.

  “Stella, I thought you quit,” I said.

  “She’s smoked five right in a row,” Vivian exclaimed, tattling on her oldest friend.

  I saw that Vivian was dressed all in red. She also didn’t look as white and shaky as she had before.

  “You look a lot better, Vivian,” I said.

  She rested the back of her hand against her forehead and leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been through such a trauma, Coco. I don’t know how I’ll get through it. At my age, I’m shocked I can still take such a fright.”

  Stella took a long drag of her cigarette. “She’s been like this all day,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Even though the two were very close friends, I could see that the close quarters were not doing them any favors.

  “I was hoping to check on your place and make sure everything is still in order, Vivian. Have you been back there yet? I saw that the police took the tape down.”

  “No, not yet,” she said, sitting back up. “Will you go with me? I don’t want to do that alone. You’re too kind to be doing this for me in my hour of need.”

  I led Vivian and Stella next door to Vivian’s house. We went across their back yards so Vivian could avoid seeing anything macabre left behind on her front lawn.

  Vivian unlocked the door and walked inside. We followed in after her.

  “It’s good to be home,” she said. She walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

  She looked around the room and frowned. “Wait just a minute. Where’s my picture of Dolly?”

  “Dolly?” I asked.

  “Dolly. Dolly Parton. I keep her picture right here.” She stood up and went over to investigate some shelves. “Did the killer take Dolly? What could she have done to upset them?”

  To my left, I saw a portrait of Dolly Parton hanging on the wall.

  “Uh, Vivian, do you happen to have multiple portraits of Dolly Parton?”

  “Just the one. Why do you ask?” She turned to look and clapped her hands together. “Oh, Coco. You found Dolly. Now I remember. I moved her three weeks ago.”

  “Is there anything that’s actually missing, you old coot?” Stella snipped.

  “I suppose we should check on my jewelry and valuables,” she said, scurrying off to the bedroom.

  She looked through her things while Stella and I checked for broken windows and doors. Every few minutes we would hear about something going missing only to hear “never mind” a few moments later.

  We all met back in the living room. “Was anything actually missing?” I asked.

  “Nothing that I noticed,” Vivian said.

  “So I suppose that means that it’s still entirely possible something is missing,” Stella joked.

  “Why don’t I go check on things outside,” I offered. “You two just relax in here.”

  “Oh Coco, you’re so brave,” said Vivian.

  I went out the front door and closed it behind me. There was still an indent in the grass from Franklin’s body. I tried not to think about it as I searched for clues and signs of vandalism.

  I looked around the door and checked the front windows. As I walked behind her bushes, I felt something crack beneath my feet.

  I took my foot way and saw an Elvis record. I bent down to investigate, seeing grass covering it and maybe that’s how it got missed in all the hubbub yesterday.

  It was Presley’s “Don’t Be Cruel.” It looked like it had been broken before I stepped on it. I recalled this being one of the songs Franklin would sing the most, the lyrics bouncing through my brain in a maudlin memory.

  I searched my pockets for something to hold the record in. In my back pocket, I found an unused piping bag. I bagged the record and took it back to Stella and Vivian.

  “I may have found something,” I said, holding up the bag.

  Stella stood up and took a look at it. “Oh this was his favorite,” she said. “I wonder what it could mean.”

  “I wonder if someone is trying to send him a message,” Vivian speculated. “Maybe someone from Las Vegas. He was getting into no good there, I think. And he brought the trouble with him. He was always getting into it with the retirement village’s management.”

  “Oh and he’s been hanging around Clive so often,” Stella said. “That can’t be good news.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Yeah, for a reporter, Clive always seems to be up to no good.” I grimaced at the idea of how I’d flirted with him...just because he was charming, but I knew that what I felt for Logan was more than a minor attraction. Clive had written up a smear job on me and a
rude obituary that made me question any remnant of character he might have.

  There was a knock at the door. I went to answer it.

  Agnes Lovelace walked in. She was a bit younger than the other seniors in town, but she had been here her whole life. Recently, she had just been put in charge of the senior center, and had been insufferable ever since. There was power tripping, and then there was Agnes, LOL, Lord of Old Ladies.

  She walked into Vivian’s home like she owned the place. “Oh, Vivian, I’m glad that I caught you at home. Have the police caught the killer yet?”

  “No, not yet,” Vivian said. “Isn’t it just awful.”

  “Yes, it is,” Agnes said. “So I suppose you would be the main suspect, is that right?” The shrillness of her voice was nearly intolerable. A few dogs howled in response.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure they know that I would never do such a thing,” Vivian sputtered out.

  Agnes shook her head and tutted. “Oh, Vivian, it really is a shame, but I’m sure you understand that we can’t have a killer here in the village.”

  “I’m not a killer,” Vivian said loudly. “I’m barely even a suspected killer.”

  Stella stood up to defend her friend. “You know just as well as anyone that Vivian had nothing to do with this, Lovelace.”

  “Well, either way, if they don’t find the killer quickly, we will have to take measures to protect the village.”

  Stella and I met eyes. We both knew we had to find the real killer and fast.

  Chapter 5

  I called Logan to come over after my harrowing adventure with Stella and Vivian, and he stopped by as soon as he could. While I was waiting, I got some Earl Grey tea leaves together to brew. It wasn’t Logan’s usual coffee and blueberry muffin, but I wanted to change things up a bit.

  By the time he knocked on the door, I had a pot of hot tea and some gingerbread cookies ready for us. I knew how he loved gingerbread, and I was changing things, not uprooting them. I opened the door and let him in.

  He gave me a quick hug. “Hey, Coco. How are you?”

  “I’m alright,” I said. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay, but I know that you’re not actually alright. I’ve seen that look before.” His detective side was coming through. Or maybe it was the part where he was able to tell what I was really thinking because he cared about me. Either way, I knew I couldn’t hide my anxiety for very long.

  I sighed. “Let’s go sit down. I wanted to talk about the case.”

  He smiled at me. “I had a feeling you did.”

  I led him over to the kitchen table and poured him a cup of tea. I put some gingerbread cookies on my saucer as well.

  “Sorry. I know you usually prefer coffee,” I said. “I wanted a change.”

  “That’s okay. I like tea just fine. Shaking it up a little can be good.”

  I grabbed the piping bag with the record. I had set it on the kitchen counter so I would have it ready when he arrived. “I found this in Vivian’s yard.”

  He picked it up and took a closer look at it. “A smashed Elvis record. That’s interesting, though I can’t say it’s too subtle. He was an Elvis impersonator after all.”

  “Maybe this particular record is significant.”

  “It might be. By the way, what on earth did you put this in?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a piping bag. I don’t have the official evidence bags. I had to use what I have around.”

  “Well, I suppose I’ve never doubted your ability to adapt to every situation.” I felt myself blush a bit at the compliment. I tried to push the feelings away and stay focused.

  “But anyway, have you found anything?” I asked.

  He laughed and took a sip of his tea. “You always get straight to the point, don’t you? We don’t know a lot yet. Just that he was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He had uppers, downers, Viagra, alcohol, and everything in between in his system. The toxicology report was unlike anything I had ever seen.”

  “Well, then that proves Vivian didn’t do it,” I said.

  “How so?”

  “Have you met Vivian? She would have done something far more brutal. She would have beat him over the head with a lamp or something if she wanted him dead. She may be old, but she’s feisty.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think that will hold up in court. A group of jurors usually don’t look too kindly upon defenses that claim that the defendant would have been more violent.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to make it that far,” I said. “She didn’t do it.”

  “Truthfully, Coco, we don’t know anything yet, unfortunately. We have a suspected cause of death, and we know where he ended up. There has to be a reason why he was left on Vivian’s porch.”

  “I guess,” I said. “But it wasn’t because she’s guilty.”

  “No one is guilty yet. We’re just looking at potential suspects. I wish the retirement village would be more forthcoming with information. Then, if Vivian didn’t do it, at least we could clear her name.”

  He took his cookie and dunked it in his tea before taking a bite. “Though, I have to be honest, that would put us in an even more frustrating position than we’re in right now.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, at least now we have something to go off of. Vivian is likely involved either directly or tangentially. We have the record, but we don’t know what it means. He was an Elvis impersonator, but we don’t know if this particular record was significant.”

  “It’s possible that Vivian isn’t targeted at all,” I said. “Couldn’t his body ending up there be entirely coincidence? Couldn’t it just as likely have been Stella’s house or another neighbor’s?”

  “That’s also possible. But, again, we have to treat everything like a potential lead when we have so little information. We can’t attribute things to coincidence until we have a better picture of what happened.”

  I thought back to what Agnes said about the investigation needing to move quickly.

  “How long do you think it will take?” I asked.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Well, a murder is very high priority, obviously, but with this little to go off of, it’s hard to say. Unless the perpetrator becomes apparent in other ways, this could go unsolved for a very long time.”

  “Well, what about other leads? You know, there’s gossip going around town.”

  “What sort of gossip?”

  “Well, you know that Franklin had all sorts of shady dealings in Vegas before coming here, but I also heard that he was doing strange things here.”

  He took out his notepad and pen. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “He had been talking to Clive about something. They were meeting. Maybe he was telling him something that someone wouldn’t want a journalist to know.”

  “That’s definitely possible,” Logan said.

  “I think you should follow up with Clive. You said so yourself that there aren’t many leads yet.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “I think you’re right, Coco. This is definitely something worth looking into.”

  I was glad that he was agreeing to look into it, but I also felt worried about the outcome. Things weren’t so certain for Vivian. I hoped that Clive could offer an interesting lead. Or any lead at all.

  Logan reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m going to look into this Coco. I promise.”

  I smiled at him, but I still felt a knot in my stomach. “I know you will. Just see what he has to say. We’ll figure this out.”

  I hoped that was true.

  Chapter 6

  It felt like I barely closed my eyes before my alarm started blaring. I groggily reached over to turn it off and sat up in bed. On mornings like these, it almost made me regret choosing a career with such an obscenely early start time.

  All the same, I got up and got ready for the day. It wasn’t long before I went down to The Mad Batter. As I was setting u
p for the day, I checked my messages to see if Masie was coming in that afternoon. I was working on hope right now that I wouldn’t have her bail on me during Valentine’s Day weekend.

  I didn’t see any messages from her, so I hoped that she was still coming in.

  I was in the middle of decorating one of our Valentine’s Day cakes when I heard a customer come in the front of the store. I walked out and saw Simon Abernathy.

  Simon was a thin, older man with a full head of white hair. He worked down at the local bookstore. He occasionally came into the shop with Henry and Red.

  “Simon, what can I do for you?” I asked, wiping excess frosting off of my sleeves.

  “Good morning, Coco. I was wondering if you had any cakes for celebrating this weekend.”

  “I do. I was actually just working on one. Were you looking for anything in particular?”

  “Something romantic. I guess they’re all romantic considering it’s Valentine’s day, but something extra, if you know what I mean.”

  “I think I do,” I said. “Extra roses, perhaps? We can put some chocolate covered cherries on it too.”

  “Oh, that sounds fantastic. I’m sure you’ll do a great job. You always do.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I should be thanking you. I’m sure this is a very busy time for you. It feels strange to be celebrating, but c’est la vie.”

  “It feels strange to be celebrating? What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Oh, just after Frank’s murder. That’s all.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Were you close?”

  He let out a laugh. “We haven’t been for some time, but at one point we were very close, yes. I was his manager back in his Vegas days.”

  “Really? Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Oh yes. I could tell you stories that would make your hair curl,” he laughed and had a wistful look in his eye. “Frank really was something. He never slowed down until the very end. Maybe he should have. Who knows.”

  “What were you two up to in Vegas?” I asked.

 

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