Death of a Cupcake Queen

by Lee Hollis

  Liddy leaned over to Hayley. “I certainly didn’t expect a pro-cheating story.”

  “We were best friends from that day forward. We’d have slumber parties at each other’s houses where we would braid each other’s hair and watch scary movies and pop popcorn and tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets,” Sabrina said, smiling at the distant memories.

  “Why don’t you share one of them?” a voice called out from the back of the room.

  Everyone turned around to see who was speaking.

  In the back of the church, Vanda Spears stood there, scratching her butt with one hand while waving away a curious fly with the other.

  Sabrina froze, not sure how to respond.

  Vanda wiped her mouth, not taking her eyes off Sabrina except for the two seconds she punched at the air trying to take out the offending fly. “Come on, Sabrina. Tell us one of your secrets that you and Ivy have been keeping all these years.”

  Sabrina fumbled nervously.

  Most of the crowd turned back around in their seats expectantly, waiting to see what Sabrina would do.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense!” Vanda taunted.

  There were now murmurs from the crowd.

  Liddy turned to Mona. “Mona, do something.”

  “What do I look like, some kind of big, bruising bouncer?” Mona scoffed.

  “As a matter of fact, you do,” Liddy said.

  Reverend Staples finally took charge of the awkward situation and marched down the aisle to escort Vanda out. He gently took her arm and whispered something in her ear but she shook him off.

  “We’re waiting, Sabrina! Looks like she’s drawing a big fat blank,” Vanda yelled. “Well, no worries, folks. I got a secret and it’s a doozy!”

  Sabrina suddenly left the podium, bolting down the steps and out the side door that led to a room where the church served tea and coffee after services.

  There was a stunned silence from the crowd.

  “Was it something I said?” Vanda asked innocently before settling her gaze on the wide variety of multi-colored cupcakes surrounding Ivy Foster’s casket. “Those cupcakes sure look delicious. Mind if I take one for the road?”

  Ivy’s sister Irene stood up near the front, plucked one off the display next to the coffin and nearly hurled it at Vanda, who bit into it and got butter cream frosting all over her face.

  And then, with more forceful urging from Reverend Staples, Vanda Spears finally got the hint that she had worn out her welcome and casually strolled out the door.

  Irene ran back down the aisle and knelt down beside Hayley, who had mercifully finally gotten her giggle fit under control. “Hayley, would you mind terribly finishing the eulogy?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Hayley said, coughing.

  “We can’t just leave people hanging. Someone has to speak.”

  “What about Nykki? She was much closer to Ivy than I was.”

  “She left around the time Vanda interrupted the service. You’re the only one here who can do it.”

  “But you’re her sister!”

  “I have a crippling fear of public speaking. We have other family members speaking, but it’s important we hear from one of her close friends. Please, Hayley. I’m begging you!”

  As if in a trance, Hayley rose to her feet and walked up to the podium.

  She was numb.

  What was she going to say?

  What if she started laughing again?

  She looked out at the somber crowd.

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  Her hands were shaking more than Sabrina’s had been.

  Then she felt it rising in her throat.

  Oh no!

  Don’t laugh.

  Don’t laugh.

  For the love of God, don’t laugh!

  But she didn’t laugh.

  She suddenly burst into tears, letting out a wail.

  The crowd nodded solemnly, moved by Hayley’s unabashed show of emotion.

  She didn’t dare admit they were not actually tears of grief over the loss of Ivy Foster.

  They were, in fact, tears of relief.

  Yes. She was crying because she was just so immensely relieved that she wasn’t laughing.

  Reverend Staples walked back down the aisle and joined Hayley behind the podium, putting his hands on her shoulders, his head bowed, consoling her.

  Through her sobs, Hayley managed to choke out a few kind words about the deceased.

  Talented baker.

  Successful businesswoman.

  Loyal friend.

  She threw that last one in for good measure knowing full well it wasn’t true.

  But the crowd of mourners seemed to appreciate it and after a few more improvised platitudes Hayley was finally back in her seat.

  It was someone else’s turn to fib about what a wonderful woman Ivy Foster was.

  Chapter 19

  “Vanda, wait! Slow down! I need to talk to you!” Hayley screamed, nearly out of breath, as she chased down Vanda on the sidewalk of Ledgelawn Avenue after the Ivy Foster memorial service was over.

  Vanda pushed her grocery cart as fast as she could, huffing and puffing, apparently going nowhere in particular since she didn’t seem to have a home as far as Hayley knew.

  Hayley finally managed to catch up to her. She grabbed a fistful of Vanda’s tattered gray wool sweater that was way too warm to be wearing in the June heat.

  “I have nothing to say to you, Hayley Powell!” Vanda spit out, blasting a wave of putrid breath into Hayley’s face.

  Nauseated, Hayley tried to ignore it. “Vanda, you know I’m not like those other women. I was never in their league in high school.”

  “But you wanted to be and that makes you just as bad in my book,” Vanda said, shaking free of Hayley’s grip and then fingering a large moth-eaten hole in the arm of her sweater before swatting at the imaginary fly buzzing around her.

  “We all wanted to fit in when we were younger,” Hayley said. “You can’t still blame me for that.”

  Vanda sniffed and then wiped her nose with her forefinger before brushing the snot off on her stained flower skirt. She then reached into one of the paper bags that filled her grocery cart and retrieved a crushed box of Snackwell’s creme sandwich cookies, tearing through it for a half eaten one that Hayley feared she had fished out of someone’s garbage.

  “Want one?” Vanda asked.

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “What is it you want, Hayley?”

  “I saw you talking to Sabrina outside the church before Ivy’s memorial service and she seemed very upset and then of course I was there when you heckled her during her eulogy.”

  Vanda cackled, enjoying the fact that she had caused such a ruckus. “That was so great, right? I mean, I just love seeing that bitch squirm.”

  “Vanda, what kind of dirt do you have on Sabrina and Nykki? Why are they so frightened of you? What’s this big secret?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes,” Hayley said, leaning in toward Vanda despite her stomach churning body odor.

  “It’ll cost you five thousand bucks!”

  “You know I don’t have that kind of money. I’m raising two kids on my own and one is going to college in the fall.”

  “Then we got nothing further to talk about.”

  “You seriously have a secret that’s worth that much?”

  “I sure as hell do!” Vanda said, chomping down on the creme sandwich cookie and then licking her fingers clean.

  Or relatively clean compared to what they were before.

  “I can’t tell you how satisfying it is having something so big over these rich stuck-up princesses who were so mean to me in high school. There really is such a thing as karma. Back then they made my life miserable. And now, now when I say jump, they jump. It’s a beautiful feeling!”

  And with that, Vanda Spears spun around and pushed her cart across the street.

  Out of the corner of her e
ye, Hayley spotted a car approaching.

  A red sports car of some kind.

  The driver hit the accelerator and sped up just as Vanda reached the middle of the street.

  The car wasn’t slowing down as it barreled right for Vanda, who by now, realized she was about to be mowed down.

  She threw her arms up in the air, surprised.

  Without thinking, Hayley raced into the street, tackling Vanda. They both hit the pavement with a thud, and with all her strength, Hayley hugged Vanda tightly and rolled to the right. They tumbled over each other until Hayley’s back slammed into the curb, nearly cracking it. Vanda was on top of her, pinning her to the ground, her noxious breath a relentless assault on Hayley’s nostrils.

  Hayley cranked her neck in time to see the red sports car smash into Vanda’s shopping cart, hurling it high into the air. It landed on its side, bags and snack food and dirty blankets flying everywhere.

  Hayley caught a glimpse of the driver as the car screeched past.

  A woman with thick blond wavy hair and dark glasses.

  The car sped away leaving a cloud of dust but Hayley managed to catch a quick look at the license plate before it rounded a corner and disappeared, the roar of the engine finally fading away.

  She tried memorizing the number.

  Maine plate.

  27D 3GG.

  27D 3GG.

  “Vanda, are you all right?” Hayley gasped, her lungs nearly crushing beneath the weight of Vanda’s body.

  Vanda pushed off Hayley, and used the support of one knee to stand up. One of her smudged nylons she was wearing was torn open and a small trickle of blood ran down a scraped knee.

  “Look at what you did to me, Hayley!” Vanda screamed.

  “What?”

  “I’m bleeding here! How dare you manhandle me like that! I could press charges!”

  “I saved your life!”

  “There you go again making such a big deal about everything! Just like in high school! No wonder nobody liked you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Vanda inspected her cart and kicked it, frustrated. “The back wheel came off my cart! I suppose that’s not your fault either!”

  “Actually I was going to blame the car that came out of nowhere and almost ran you down before I pushed you out of the way.”

  “So what do you want, the friggin’ Medal of Honor?”

  Vanda trudged over and sifted through her belongings, which were scattered all over the street.

  “Would you like some help picking your things up?” Hayley asked.

  “I got it. You’ve done enough for one day!” Vanda sneered.

  Hayley headed back to the church where she hoped Liddy and Mona were still waiting for her.

  Vanda’s lack of gratitude didn’t concern her.

  But the license plate of the hit and run car certainly did.

  27D 3GG.

  27D 3GG.

  27-Dustin-3-Gemma-Gemma.

  Chapter 20

  “The car is registered with a local rental company. I called them and they told me that particular vehicle was rented to Ivy Foster,” Sergio said as he handed Hayley the printout in his office at the police station.

  Hayley checked the information and then looked at Sergio, who sat behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his head looking very official in his police chief uniform.

  “Well, obviously Ivy didn’t return from the dead and try to take out Vanda Spears with her rental car, so who was behind the wheel?”

  “Her husband Nigel is listed on the rental agreement as an additional driver. Might have been him,” Sergio said.

  “No. The driver was definitely a woman,” Hayley said.

  “What about Sabrina?”

  “I saw her outside the church with her boy toy Mason when I went back to meet Liddy and Mona. He was consoling her. There would be no way for her to try and run down Vanda, ditch the car, and make it back to the church before I did.”

  “What about the other friend?”

  “Nykki. When Liddy and I first met Sabrina, Ivy, and Nykki at the golf club to plan the reunion, I remember Ivy letting Nykki borrow her rental car. They’re all staying at the same summer house so it makes perfect sense that Nykki would know where Ivy kept the car keys and would have access to the car.”

  “I should bring her in for questioning.”

  “But the woman driving the car had blond hair. Nykki’s a redhead.”

  “That’s still enough to at least bring her in.”

  “Let me talk to her first, Sergio. Nykki’s a little high strung. To say the least. If you drag her in here, even if she’s innocent, she’ll probably lawyer up and never talk. Maybe I can find a way to get her to open up. Give me a couple of hours before you send your deputies over there to pick her up.”

  “Okay. You have until five o’clock. I don’t want to be interrogating a suspect too late. It’s date night and Randy will kill me if I have to cancel.”

  Hayley left the police station and drove straight over to the summer rental house in Seal Harbor.

  There was no sign of a red sports car.

  She parked her Kia in the gravel driveway and crossed to the front door, knocking on it several times.

  No answer.

  Instead of slinking around back like last time, she chose to simply try the door.

  It was unlocked.

  Hayley poked her head inside. “Nykki? Sabrina? Anybody home?”

  The place was deserted.

  Hayley poked around until she came upon what she assumed was Nykki’s room because of the Louis Vuitton luggage and a couple of pressed business suits hanging behind the bathroom door.

  She surveyed the room for anything out of the ordinary.

  She checked the drawers.

  Linens.

  Towels.

  Ladies underwear.

  One drawer was locked.

  That was odd.

  Why was this one particular drawer inaccessible?

  Hayley scooted to the living room and found a gold letter opener on a wooden desk next to a small statue of Paul Bunyan, the mythical lumberjack with a double-sided ax slung over his shoulder. It was an exact replica of the 31 foot high version that stood atop a stone pedestal in front of the Bangor Civic Center in Bass Park. The city, claiming to be the birthplace of the lumber industry, boasted that it was the largest statue of Mr. Bunyan in the world. This trinket, however, was roughly the size of an Academy Award but felt almost as heavy as the real one when she picked it up. Hayley silently scolded herself for taking the time to look at a funny little statue when someone could walk in on her at any moment. She set it back down, scooped up the letter opener and returned to Nykki’s room where she used it to jam open the lock. It was an old antique dresser so it wasn’t difficult.

  She slid it open and gasped.

  A blond wig and dark sunglasses.

  It was Nykki.

  Nykki was definitely the mad driver who tried to run down Vanda Spears in Ivy’s rental car.

  She stepped back, her mind racing.

  Then she sat down on the unmade bed to consider her next move.

  Call Sergio and let him know what she found so he could arrest Nykki.

  A pang of guilt gnawed at her.

  She was never a fan of Nykki Temple.

  But to be the one who uncovered the evidence that would undoubtedly put her away for a long time was sobering.

  She was about to stand up and pull out her cell phone when she noticed something on the crinkled white bed sheet.

  A hair.

  A black hair.

  And not just one.

  There were tons of them.

  Spread out everywhere.

  Could it be one of Ivy’s toy poodles?

  No. They wouldn’t shed that much.

  It was more like a man’s body hair.

  A very hairy man.

  Was Nykki sneaking a man into her room at night?

  The hair certainly didn’t be
long to Nykki.

  She was a redhead.

  Suddenly, without warning, the whole house filled with an incessant cacophony of high-pitched barking.

  The dogs were in the house.

  And it took them less than ten seconds to sniff out Hayley’s presence before they charged into Nykki’s room and surrounded her, yapping and jumping and nipping at her ankles.

  Hayley tired to make a fast getaway out the window but only managed to pry it open halfway before Sabrina and Mason entered the room to investigate what was upsetting the dogs so much.

  “Hayley, what are you doing here?” Sabrina demanded to know.

  “I’m looking for Nykki,” Hayley said.

  “Well, she’s not here,” Sabrina said, eyeing her suspiciously. “Did you break into the house?”

  “No. Of course not. The door was unlocked. Where were you?”

  “Nigel asked us to take the dogs out for a walk while he went on a hike to clear his head after the service,” Mason offered, a lascivious grin creeping onto his face as he folded his muscular tattooed arms.

  “Well, where’s Nykki?”

  “I don’t know,” Sabrina said, “I haven’t seen her since she ran out of the church when that awful Vanda Spears started shouting her foolishness. Why? What’s going on, Hayley? What aren’t you telling us?”

  Hayley took a deep breath.

  How do you tell someone that her best best best best friend in the whole world was about to be booked for attempted murder?

  Chapter 21

  Dustin sat at the dining room table, tapping away at his computer when Hayley walked in with a bag of groceries and set them down on the kitchen counter. He looked up, stopped typing to acknowledge her with a slight wave, and then instantly went back to what he was doing.

  “What’s that you’re working so diligently on? A History makeup test, I hope.”

  “I’m editing the footage I shot at your reunion. I must have uploaded three hours of stuff, but most of it’s boring. Just a bunch of old people drinking and dancing. We’ll be lucky if I end up with fifteen minutes that are kind of watchable.”

  Hayley had completely forgotten she had asked Dustin to record the reunion for posterity. At the last parent–teacher conference she had been warned that Dustin was barely passing a couple of his courses, so she strong-armed him into doing some extra credit for his Audio–Visual class to up his grade and do a little damage control for his overall lackluster GPA.