“So, you’re rich now,” I said.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Though, I’m trying to manage everything the way my grandmother would’ve liked. I haven’t had much time to think about it since she passed, but I want to keep investing in the charities she chose.”
“That’s honorable of you,” I said.
He opened the passenger side door, and I slid into the leather interior. I hadn’t been in a car this nice since… well, I’d never been in a car this nice. I hadn’t exactly run in circles with people who owned expensive sportscars.
The ride over to the restaurant, Gianni’s Italian, was comfortable, and Jamie talked to me about how life had changed and how he was adapting. And how he missed being a detective.
“You could do it again, couldn’t you?” I asked. “It’s not like you got fired. You left. So, surely you could apply for a position here?”
“Maybe,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to stay in Muffin yet. There are a lot of things I need to consider before I make a decision like that.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t make sense for a millionaire to work as a detective.”
“The world doesn’t make sense most of the time,” Hanson said. “I’d be happy to contribute.” He got out and opened the door for me, then offered me his hand.
It was so gentlemanly, and his attitude and behavior had already set me at ease. I wasn’t nervous now. The butterflies in my stomach were a different kind.
Inside, we were seated in a cozy booth along the brick wall. Rustic music trickled out of the speakers, and there were lamps in the center of each table. The place was already filling up—people shared intimate conversations or clinked wine glasses together. Apparently, we’d come on date night because most of the tables were reserved for couples.
“Let’s see what’s good,” Hanson said, and opened the thick, leather-backed menu.
I did the same, resting mine on the tabletop, barely able to focus on the dishes listed. Unusual for me, but these were strange circumstances. I cast around for a topic of conversation.
“So, you had a good day?” I asked.
“It’s getting better.” Jamie offered me a warm smile. “What about you? Anything interesting happen on the food truck today? From what I hear, it’s a hotbed of gossip and delicious treats.”
“Sounds about right.” I laughed. “Actually, something did happen today, but it wasn’t on the truck.” I told him about the arrival of Drake and how Mrs. Rickleston had reacted to Lucy’s dating him.
“That’s crazy,” Jamie said.
I agreed.
“Seems to me like your life gets a little crazy in general,” he continued. “Tell me more about yourself. What brought you to Muffin? Why did you decide on the food truck and baking business?”
It was a long story, but I told it, skipping around the part where my fiancé had ghosted me and left me heartbroken. The gap in the story was obvious, but Jamie, to his credit, didn’t try to pry the information out of me.
“What about you? Have you always wanted to be a detective?”
“When I was younger, I wanted to be a CIA agent,” Jamie said. “But things changed as I grew older. Opportunities—”
Applause broke out around the restaurant, and Jamie and I exchanged a quizzical glance.
Our unspoken question was soon answered.
Drake and Lucy had entered the restaurant. The crooner waved at his fans, grinning as women flocked toward him, holding out bits of paper and pens, or bringing out their phones for selfies. That while Lucy stood nearby, her arms at her sides, hands balled into fists, and watching.
“She doesn’t look happy,” Jamie said.
“I can’t say I would be either. It can’t be easy to date a celebrity.”
“So, what are you saying? I’m not famous?” He wriggled his eyebrows at me.
I blushed. “I wasn’t even saying we were dating.”
“Touché.”
The hubbub didn’t die down for a while, and Jamie and I settled into people-watching and making funny comments to each other about the situation. It was easy to talk to him. So easy, in fact, that it was like having another friend, and it made my heart do flips, half out of panic.
We would be leaving Muffin soon. I wasn’t ready for a long-term commitment.
After dinner, Jamie walked me back to the car and we drove to the inn in comfortable silence. He opened the door for me, offered me his arm and brought me right up to the porch and the now closed inn doors.
The light was on, and his eyes gleamed emerald. “This was great,” he said. “I had a nice time.”
“I did too.” My palms were clammy, so I tucked them behind my back. “Thanks for asking me out.”
Before I could think, Jamie leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss across my cheek, his cologne washing over me. “The pleasure was all mine,” he replied. “We should do this again some time.”
“Sure. I’ll… call you.”
“I look forward to that.” Jamie gave a little wave then headed off down the steps toward his Porsche. I watched him until he drove off.
3
“You’re going to call him again, right?” Bee asked, as she served another customer our specialty of the week—rainbow cake in a cup.
“Bee. Now isn’t the time to talk about this.”
“There’s no time like the present,” Bee replied. “I can tell you’re feeling antsy. I don’t want to see you mess this up.”
“We’re leaving Muffin soon. There’s nothing to mess up. We’re just friends,” I said, firmly.
“That explains why you turn the color of baboon’s heinie every time he’s mentioned.”
“I’m done with you.” I rolled my eyes at her and thanked the heavens that my next customer had stepped up to the window. “Good morning,” I said. “Welcome to the Bite-sized Bakery. What can I get for you?”
The woman was heavily pregnant, with a shining pink face, dark hair, and hazel, cat-shaped eyes. She wiped her forehead. “Hot today isn’t it?” she asked, softly.
“It’s warm. That’s why we park out here—nice place for people to catch a break.” I gestured to the park, the gazebos, benches, and the duck pond glimmering in the sunlight. “Are you new in Muffin? I haven’t seen you around before.”
“Yes. I’m visiting family,” she said.
“Well, it’s lovely to have a new face around here.” We’d been in Muffin long enough that it felt right to say that. “My name’s Ruby.”
“Becca,” she said, extending her hand. “Becca Sherer.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Becca.” I smiled at her. Bee was busy with another customer, so I didn’t bother introducing her. “What can I get for you today?”
“I would love one of those rainbow cakes in the cup.”
“Of course.” I got one for her and handed it over, accepting the money in exchange. “You know, you came to visit at exactly the right time. We’ve got a celebrity in town at the moment. Drake Haynes. Have you heard of him?”
“Yeah, he’s that guy who sings slow songs,” Becca said, digging into the rainbow cake cup. “Seems kind of boring if you ask me.”
“Well, he’s very popular with the ladies.”
Becca pursed her lips but didn’t comment.
“Anyway, here’s your change.”
“Keep it,” Becca replied. “It’s just a couple bucks and this is delicious.” She thanked me then waddled off, heading for one of the benches next to the duck pond. I didn’t envy her, being that pregnant on a hot day couldn’t be comfortable.
“Who was that?” Bee asked, after she finished with her customer.
“New woman in town visiting family. She seems nice. Everybody loves the rainbow cakes,” I said, clasping my hands together. “You’ve outdone yourself again, Bee.”
“I didn’t make them on my own. I couldn’t have. That many layers of cake and buttercream?” She shuddered. “I would have had to wake up at 3 am to get it all done in time for t
he day.”
I accepted her gratitude. It was nice knowing I’d gotten better at baking.
The morning wore on and the rush died down eventually—mostly people wanted rainbow cake in a cup and soda or a refreshing milkshake. It was too hot for coffee, though I’d come up with the idea to serve it iced, and that had gotten a few sales.
“Heya.” Lucy strolled up to the window. She looked stunning as usual, the purple streaks in her hair more vibrant today, but her expression was dour.
“Hey, Luce,” I said. “How’s your morning been?”
“Fine, I guess. Not the best,” she replied. “I’m tired. I stayed out late last night.”
“Oh right, I saw you at Gianni’s Italian. Did you have a good night with Drake?”
Bee snapped her attention away from the register, shutting the tray. “Your date,” she said. “You’re so lucky.” Bee wasn’t one to gush, but handsome celebrities brought that out in her, apparently. “Drake Haynes…”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard how lucky I am last night,” Lucy grumbled.
“What’s wrong?”
She inhaled through her nose. “I’m not a jealous woman,” she said. “But everyone wants a piece of Drake. Every woman, that is. They flock to him and I’m just… I’m not the kind of chick who hangs around for that type of thing.”
“But it’s Drake Haynes,” Bee breathed.
“I know.” Lucy nodded. “That’s the only reason I’m willing to stick around. He’s… like important. So I’m supposed to be understanding and everything but it’s still super annoying. Like, hello! How am I supposed to deal with all these other floozies trying to get with my man?”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Yeah, there’s a reason I’m no longer married.”
“No longer…” I blinked at Bee. “You were married?”
“I’m sure we talked about it before.”
I started shaking my head, but Lucy slapped down several white slips of paper on the countertop. “I came to invite you to Drake’s concert tonight at the community center. He gave me free tickets. I’ve got four for you. Bring dates.”
“Dates!” I choked on the word.
“I know who Ruby’s taking.” Bee winked at me.
“Thanks, Lucy, but—”
“Just come, all right?” Lucy puffed out her cheeks. “I need some moral support if I’m going to watch Drake sing to a bunch of screaming women.”
“Gaggle,” Bee said.
Lucy and I looked at her, confused.
“The collective noun for women is a gaggle.” She shrugged. “A little bit sexist if you ask me. Like a gaggle of geese.”
“I thought it was a bevy of women?” I asked.
“I think that’s for beautiful women,” Bee replied.
“Oh, they’ll be beautiful all right.” Lucy folded her arms. “All of them will be wearing their best dresses and they’ll be painted in makeup. So desperate. Anyway, you’re coming, right? Please, girls, I need you there.”
“I’ll come,” Bee said. “I’ll bring Violet.”
“Violet Keller?”
“She’s been lonely of late, you know, after… what happened.” My friend poured a cup of iced coffee and slurped some down. “Ruby can bring her new beau.”
“He’s not my beau.” But maybe I would invite him. I’d been unsure last night—the thought of commitment sent shivers down my spine, like an old-school horror movie—but it wouldn’t be so bad. We could go as friends. And if he happened to kiss me on the cheek again, well, I wouldn’t say no.
“We’ll be there, Lucy,” Bee said.
“Great!” Our friend cheered up. “Great. Well, it starts at eight. I’ll meet you outside at quarter to, all right?” Lucy ordered rainbow cake in a cup and an iced coffee, paid for them, then hurried off, a spring in her step.
“Nothing but trouble,” I muttered.
“What?” Bee asked.
“Oh… just a feeling.” I didn’t want Bee to think I was silly, but ever since that argument between Mrs. Rickleston and Lucy, I’d had the bone-deep sensation that something bad was on the way.
4
The community center swam with activity—people, mostly women, dressed in their best, strode along the red carpet that had been laid out leading to the front doors. Pictures of Drake Haynes on stage had been pasted on the walls or erected on clapboards, and fairy lights decorated the columns on the stone portico.
“This is fabulous,” Violet said, patting her bright red hair.
“Yeah, it looks amazing.” Jamie had taken my hand after we’d gotten out of his car—he’d given us all a ride. He squeezed my fingers gently, lifted them and brushed his lips across them. “Not as amazing as you, though, Ruby.”
My stomach did a little flip. I’d chose a red cocktail dress this evening with a modest neckline and figured it would have to be good enough for the concert. It was nice to be complimented.
“Smooth operator.” Violet leaned around Bee and shot Jamie a sharp look. “Be careful of a man who’s too charming, Ruby. You never know what they’re capable of.”
Jamie ignored her. They weren’t the best of friends thanks to their disagreements in the past.
“Let’s go inside,” Bee said. “I want to find out if they’re selling refreshments.”
“We’re meant to wait for Lucy.” I followed Bee and Violet down the red carpet, trying not to worry about my increasingly clammy palm tucked against Jamie’s.
“She’s probably got a seat close to ours,” Bee replied. “We can catch up with her inside.”
The lobby was decorated with more pictures of Drake in various poses, some of them with women on stage next to him, fanning their faces or staring up at him in adulation. Women chattered excitedly and men escorted them, wearing suits.
It was a blast from the past—a few people were dressed like they’d stepped right out of the fifties. Which was kind of cute. Maybe that was just the crooner vibe?
Bee separated off to find refreshments, returning moments later with a frown. “Only during the intermission,” she grumbled. “I’m starving.”
“You wanted to skip dinner for this.” Bee wouldn’t have missed the concert for the world, and Mrs. Rickleston had decided to serve the dinner at the Runaway Inn late. Exactly when the concert would be taking place, in fact.
I wasn’t sure why, but a guess was that she wanted people to choose the inn’s dinner over the concert. But from the turn-out here, including the familiar faces of other guests at the Runaway, she likely didn’t have anyone to serve.
We entered the hall and found our seats about halfway from the front. The community center’s main hall had a balcony, where a few lucky folks had gotten tickets for a birds-eye view. Excitement was on the air, a palpable buzz.
People settled into their seats, all except for Lucy, and I craned my neck, searching for her.
She rushed down the aisle wearing a puffy purple dress and took her place at the end of the aisle. “Sorry,” she hissed. “I had to do some… stuff.”
“No problem,” I whispered back.
“Shush, shush, it’s starting!” Bee was on the edge of her seat.
A spotlight illuminated a circle on the red velvet curtain. It parted just enough to create a black doorway to the stage, and Drake appeared, his coif slicked back. He wore a smart black suit, a bow tie, and a red velvet waistcoat.
The crowd went wild. Everyone jumped to their feet and cheered, but Lucy remained seated, her arms folded.
Drake stepped up to the silver microphone. “Good evening,” he said, in creamy tones. “Glad you could make it to our little soiree.”
Another round of tumultuous applause.
“I’ve been thinking about coming to small towns like these for a while,” he said, then paused, aware of the affect it had on the crowd—they hung on his every word. “And I gotta say, this is the most welcoming, warm town I’ve been to so far.”
“I love you!” screeched Bee.
I snorted and covered my mouth. Jamie’s shoulders shook next to me, and I caught his eye. We burst into fits of laughter.
“And I love you too,” Drake called, above the madness. “All of you. Now, what do you say we get to making some sweet, sweet music?”
“Yes!” Another scream from Bee, this time joined by Violet.
“You’re going to burst my eardrum if you keep doing that,” I shouted at my friend. She didn’t hear me. Her eyes glistened with tears.
“All right, all right,” Drake said, pointing a finger gun at the crowd. “Now, here’s a little number you might know… A cover that I like to do at the start of every show. Blue Moon. Let’s take it nice and slow, shall we?” He turned that finger gun to the right, and the band started up—a slow jazzy number with a snare drum, piano and sax.
The screams continued then quieted to a manageable level.
Drake opened his mouth, looking at the balcony above, capturing the essence of 50s jazz in pose, style and aura. “Blu—”
A crack rang out, and Drake bent forward, grasping his chest.
Bee and the others screamed and cheered, but cold washed over my skin. I grabbed Jamie’s hand and squeezed.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, but no one heard me.
Drake stumbled and straightened, grabbing the microphone. Red that wasn’t a part of his velvet waistcoat spread on his chest. Another crack came, and he went stiff. His eyes glazed over, the microphone fell, and then he did too.
The screams turned from excitement to horror.
“He’s been shot!” someone yelled.
And then panic broke out. People stampeded for the exits. Jamie tucked me to his side. Bee was frozen, staring at the stage, while Violet shook her head repeatedly. Lucy was… she was gone.
“Lucy!” I yelled, searching for her.
A woman pushed past me and nearly knocked me over in her rush to escape. Everyone was headed for the side and back doors of the hall while poor Drake lay on the stage, possibly dead or bleeding out.
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