Death of a Cupcake Queen

by Lee Hollis

  “I wanted to go to the police from the moment she first approached the three of us and tell them everything, but Ivy insisted we give Vanda anything she wanted because she was afraid if the scandal came out her cupcake business would be adversely affected.”

  “And after Ivy was killed, Nykki remained convinced the best option was to keep Vanda happy.”

  “Yes. I told her Vanda would never go away. She would always come back and ask for more, but Nykki didn’t care. She just wanted her to stay quiet.”

  Hayley couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for the three women to be haunted for so many years, looking over their shoulders, frightened that someone might discover the truth and their lives would be over as they know it.

  She felt sorry for Sabrina.

  But at least she was still alive.

  Ivy and Nykki hadn’t been so lucky.

  Which begged the question.

  Who had it out for them?

  And was it connected to the secret pact they made to never tell anyone the role they played in Julian Reed’s death?

  Chapter 33

  If anyone was an expert on Eighties superstar Julian Reed, it was Randy.

  When Hayley called him at the bar and invited him over for happy hour cocktails later that afternoon, Randy jumped at the chance. He swung by his house he shared with husband Sergio and picked up a box of old magazines and newspaper clippings of all his Hollywood crushes that he kept stored in the basement and rushed right over leaving his trusty bar manager Michelle in charge of Drinks Like A Fish.

  Hayley had his favorite drink, a Mojito, waiting for him when he arrived and the two sat at the kitchen table sipping their drinks while Hayley pumped Randy for information that might shed some light on who might be the one targeting Ivy, Nykki, and Sabrina so many years after that fateful night at Julian Reed’s summer rental estate.

  “I was devastated when I heard the news,” Randy said, licking the sugar off the side of the glass. “I remember I went into mourning for weeks. He was my favorite movie star of all time and he died right here in my home town! I couldn’t fathom it!”

  “I don’t remember you being so upset over Julian Reed dying,” Hayley shrugged.

  “Of course you don’t. You never paid any attention to me back then. It was all about chasing boys and partying with your friends. I could barely crawl out of bed I was so destroyed. That is until Goldeneye came out later that fall and I found a new obsession with Pierce Brosnan! You know how much I go for older men with hairy chests! I remember watching him in Remington Steele when I was a little kid but he didn’t really excite me like he did when he first appeared on screen as James Bond looking so dashing in that tux and brandishing that Walther PPK and . . .”

  “Yes, Randy. Pierce Brosnan. I remember. Can we get back to Julian Reed?”

  “Sorry. I tend to get distracted when I drink Mojitos.”

  “When I was at the library researching his death I saw a lot of conspiracy theories.”

  “Oh, yes! They started coming out the day after he died,” Randy said, standing up from the table and reaching into his box of mementos and hauling out a stack of magazines.

  He set them down and began leafing through them. “Every week there was a new story. A crazy mistress. A closeted gay lover. His mother. His uncle. His cousin. His chiropractor. His massage therapist. I think everybody who ever came in contact with him was considered a suspect at one time.”

  “But the police concluded his death was an accident . . .”

  “Yes. And they also said Marilyn Monroe died of an accidental drug overdose. That didn’t stop everyone from speculating that the Kennedy brothers were there that night and killed her to cover up her affair with JFK.”

  “I see your point.”

  Leroy scampered into the kitchen and stopped to sniff at his empty bowl on the plastic mat with paw prints in the corner. It was the universal sign he was hungry and that he expected his dinner without further delay.

  Hayley stood up and crossed to a cupboard in the far corner to fetch a treat since it was too early for his dinner. “Well, I think we know now what really happened that night.”

  “All these years those girls kept it to themselves. They never told anybody. I don’t think I could have done that,” Randy said, shaking his head.

  “That’s not exactly breaking news. You’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets.”

  “That’s because there are only two kinds of secrets. Ones not worth keeping and ones too good to keep.”

  Hayley tossed a chewy treat to Leroy, who scooped it up in his mouth and sauntered out of the kitchen to find a comfortable place to gnaw on it. She then mixed herself another Jack and Coke and joined Randy back at the table, who was flipping through an old magazine.

  “Oh, I remember this story in the Enquirer! This one is from 1989.”

  “You always used to run to the grocery store with your allowance every Wednesday when it came out to buy a copy. Please tell me you don’t read that rag anymore!”

  “I will neither confirm nor deny,” Randy said, slapping the magazine down in front of Hayley.

  On the cover was a picture of Julian Reed, coming out of a modest suburban house, his hand covering his face as he avoided the paparazzi while a young blond girl, no more than sixteen, in dark sunglasses, her mouth agape, clutched his shirt sleeve. She had an obvious baby bump. Plastered across the front was the headline “Julian Reed’s Secret Love Child!”

  “This one was particularly juicy! It was all about how Julian Reed got an underaged fan pregnant and then paid off the girl’s family to keep quiet because he was worried about his image!”

  “Not to mention being arrested for having sex with a minor! Do you think there was any truth to the story?”

  “Of course there was! Otherwise the Enquirer wouldn’t write about it!” Randy said, a defensive tone in his voice.

  Hayley gave him a withering stare.

  “Come on, you know as well as I do where there’s smoke, there’s always fire! According to the Enquirer, the girl’s parents were strict Catholics so an abortion was out of the question.”

  “So she must have had the baby!”

  “Yes! And the gossip rags hounded her for months despite all parties denying she had any kind of sexual relationship with Julian Reed. She finally moved away to a small town in the Midwest just to escape the glare of the spotlight. Eventually, all the hoopla died down and Julian Reed went back to being a box office star until six years later, when he died. Well, that cranked up the rumor mill all over again and that’s when one reporter tracked the girl down and got a photograph of her buying an ice cream for a six-year-old boy.”

  “Do you have that issue?”

  “I think so. These are all in chronological order. If I didn’t become a bar owner I could’ve been a librarian. And I’d be a whole lot cuter than Agatha Farnsworth.”

  Randy set one stack of magazines to the side and began rifling through the box for more before yanking out a copy of the National Enquirer from 1995. “Here it is!”

  He handed the magazine to Hayley.

  Sure enough. On the cover was the girl, now a few years older, more conservatively dressed and her hair in a bun, with an adorable wide eyed little boy who bore more than a passing resemblance to Julian Reed.

  “Whatever came of this?” Hayley asked, studying the picture.

  “Nothing. The girl denied the boy was Julian Reed’s son. There was no way to prove it. She certainly wasn’t going to subject him to a DNA test. So eventually the story died on the vine. Another salacious celebrity scandal popped up and everybody sort of forgot about it.”

  Hayley studied the photo of the little boy.

  What if the story was true?

  What if this really was Julian Reed’s son?

  What had happened to him?

  “Dustin! Can you come down here? And bring your iPad!” Hayley yelled before picking up Randy’s now empty glass and making him anot
her Mojito as a reward for a job well done.

  After a few moments they heard feet pounding down the stairs and Dustin, sleepy-eyed and bored, ambled into the kitchen, his iPad in his hand. “What’s up?”

  “Weren’t you telling me about an app you downloaded that can age a photo to see what a child would look like years later as an adult?”

  “Yeah FutureFace. It’s really cool.”

  “Could you show me what he would look like today?” Hayley asked, pointing her finger at the boy on the cover of the Enquirer from 1995.

  “Sure,” Dustin said, snapping a photo of the boy with his iPad camera and then opening the app. He set the device down on the table between Hayley and Randy and they watched in awe as the boy’s face slowly transformed into a twenty-five-year-old man.

  Randy grabbed the iPad and squinted at the adult face. “Isn’t that . . . ?”

  “Sabrina Merryweather’s boyfriend! The high diver! You met him at the bar!”

  Hayley then snatched up the 1989 copy of the Enquirer and frantically flipped through the pages until she got to the two page spread detailing all the salacious details. “Cassidy! The girl’s name was Rhonda Cassidy! Mason’s last name is Cassidy! It’s him! He’s Julian Reed’s long lost son!”

  “Since everyone denied Julian was the boy’s father, he probably just took his mother’s name!” Hayley said, throwing the magazine back down.

  Dustin held out his hand. “What do I get for cracking the case?”

  “A mother’s eternal gratitude! Now get back upstairs and finish your extra credit for History so you don’t have to go to summer school!”

  Dustin rolled his eyes and shuffled out of the kitchen.

  “If Mason found out Julian Reed was his father and somehow discovered that Sabrina, Nykki, and Ivy were responsible for his death he might want to exact revenge!” Randy said, downing his second Mojito excitedly.

  “And that’s motive and opportunity,” Hayley said.

  Chapter 34

  “Sabrina, it’s Hayley. Call me when you get this message. I need to speak with you. It’s rather urgent,” Hayley said, trying to remain calm.

  She ended the call and looked at Randy.

  “Do you think . . . ?”

  “There’s no reason to assume the worst. Sabrina may be preoccupied. She could be taking a swim and left her cell phone in the house or she’s out running errands and didn’t hear it ring in her tote bag.”

  “We should call Sergio,” Randy said, grabbing his phone out of his back pants pocket.

  “And tell him what? We think we know who the killer is? Dustin’s app isn’t one hundred percent reliable. It just tells us that the boy in the picture grew up and became a man who just happens to look like Sabrina’s boyfriend. I’ve learned not to bring Sergio into anything until we have absolute concrete proof.”

  “Well, I’ve never learned that lesson. I’m going to take the magazine and the photo from FutureFace and show Sergio. At least maybe it will get him to focus more on Mason rather than Nigel.”

  “Okay, keep me posted,” Hayley said, grabbing her car keys off the kitchen counter.

  “Wait. Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “No. I’m going over to Sabrina’s summer rental to see if she’s there.”

  “Hayley! Haven’t you learned anything from all those horror and suspense thrillers we stayed up late watching when we were kids? Whenever the heroine goes anywhere alone, it never ends well!”

  “I’ll be fine. Mason has no idea we’re on to him. As long as I keep my cool, he won’t suspect a thing. But I can’t wait for Sergio! There’s no telling when Mason plans on striking again. Sabrina’s life could be in danger!”

  She was out the door in a flash.

  Hayley almost broke speed records driving to the summer rental in Seal Harbor.

  When she pulled up out front, all appeared quiet and serene.

  She knocked on the door and waited.

  No answer.

  She tried the door.

  It was unlocked.

  Just like last time.

  Sabrina certainly wasn’t afraid someone might rob the place.

  Hayley silently entered and walked to the big picture window that overlooked the property that ran down to the coastline.

  There didn’t seem to be anyone around.

  She had heard Ivy’s sister Irene had temporarily adopted her seven pooches while Nigel was incarcerated.

  Hayley made a beeline to the bedroom on the opposite side from Nyyki’s where she found the body hair in the bed that undoubtedly belonged to Nigel.

  This room was well kept and spotless.

  Sabrina had a mild case of OCD for as long as Hayley could remember.

  The bed was perfectly made, the bedspread pulled tight so there were no wrinkles or creases.

  A few beauty products were lined up in a single row on the dresser, all turned so their labels faced outward.

  This definitely had to be where Sabrina was staying with Mason.

  She opened a few drawers.

  Two stacks of women’s shorts and pullovers all neatly folded.

  She crossed to the closet across the room and opened the door.

  A few print blouses hanging on the rack.

  No wire hangers.

  Joan Crawford would have been proud.

  There were some men’s shirts hanging there too.

  Mason didn’t strike Hayley as a neat freak so she assumed Sabrina had ironed and pressed his shirts for him so they didn’t drive her mad.

  She was about to close the door when she noticed something balled up in the corner of the closet. She reached down and picked it up.

  It was a men’s hiking shirt.

  Back country green plaid.

  It must have been recently worn because it was smelly and smudged with dirt.

  And there was a tear on the sleeve.

  Something had ripped the fabric.

  It was the same fabric Hayley found caught on that tree branch when she was up on top of Dorr Mountain with Liddy and Mona.

  This had to be the shirt Mason Cassidy wore when he killed Nykki.

  He probably didn’t even know it was incriminating, which would explain why he didn’t get rid of it.

  Mason.

  Mason Cassidy was the killer.

  He was the one who stole the nine iron from Nigel’s golf bag.

  He was staying at the same summer rental so of course he had access to it.

  Hayley could hardly forget he was at the reunion because he tried pawing her and kissing her in the kitchen.

  There was plenty of time for him to sneak back there when Ivy was arranging her cupcakes and whack her over the head a few times.

  Then, when it was convenient, he simply returned the golf club to Nigel’s bag thereby framing him if anyone found it.

  That took care of Ivy.

  Then he probably followed Nykki when she hiked to the top of the mountain with Nigel, stalking her like prey, waiting until Nigel left her alone and made his way back down before sneaking up behind her.

  Knowing Nykki, she put up a hell of a fight, which would explain his shirt getting torn during a struggle.

  But Mason was an athlete, young and strong.

  She didn’t stand a chance.

  He hurled her over the side to her death.

  That took care of Nykki.

  Now it was Sabrina’s turn.

  He saved her for last because in the end she would be the easiest to kill.

  Especially given the fact she was sleeping right next to him.

  She would never see it coming.

  The torn piece of fabric from his shirt was the evidence needed to connect Mason to at least one of the murders.

  It was time to call Sergio.

  She grabbed her cell phone from her bag and called the station.

  Office Donnie answered.

  “Donnie, it’s Hayley Powell. Get me Chief Alvares. I know who killed Ivy Foster and Nykki Templ
e.”

  “I think he’s out. Hold on. Let me go check his office,” Donnie sighed, annoyed.

  He was probably eating his lunch and resented the disturbance.

  Hayley waited.

  “Give me the phone,” a man’s voice suddenly commanded.

  She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and it made her shudder.

  Hayley slowly turned around.

  Mason Cassidy’s eyes darkened as he held out his hand.

  “I’m not going to tell you again,” he hissed. “The phone. Now!”

  Hayley carefully placed it in the palm of his hand.

  And then he flung her phone across the room where it hit the wall and smashed to bits.

  He stared at the dirty torn plaid shirt she held in her hand.

  Chapter 35

  Hayley sized Mason up and down.

  If his face wasn’t so menacing she would have thought he looked adorable in his sky blue shirt, navy chinos, and lightweight navy blazer with matching navy deck shoes.

  He looked as if he just stepped out of a sail boat catalogue.

  And then it hit her like a freight train.

  She gasped.

  Boating.

  “Oh dear god, you’ve already done it!” Hayley wailed.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been boating!”

  “Yes. Sailing the high seas. I was probably a ship’s captain in another life. I just can’t seem to get enough of it.”

  “And you took Sabrina with you! Out past the harbor and to the dark choppy water away from where anyone on shore would spot you, especially the Coast Guard, and you shoved her overboard! Just like you shoved Nykki over that cliff! And then you simply drove off in the boat, leaving her to drown . . . just like your father did!”

  Mason flinched at the mention of his father.

  Hayley made a mad dash around him to escape but he anticipated it, blocked her move and grabbed her forcefully by the wrists to hold her in place. “It’s a shame you couldn’t leave it alone. I really liked you. I couldn’t understand why someone so nice would be friends with those conniving, appalling bitches!”