Dying for Devil's Food

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Yeah, it’s almost like he’s a homicide detective or something,” Joe said. His voice was dry and Mel gave him a flat stare before turning back to Brittany.

  “Okay, fine, full disclosure. We’re here to talk about Cassidy and who might have had a reason to murder her.”

  “I would think it would be obvious,” Brittany said.

  “Given that the police haven’t made an arrest, no, not that obvious,” Mel said.

  Brittany gave her an impatient look and then said, “Listen, we all know you are the prime suspect because Cassidy was writing your name in the bathroom when she died.”

  “It could just as easily be you,” Mel countered. “You were right there when we found out she was dead, which was awfully convenient. Also, you work here. How hard would it be for you to get poison?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Brittany asked. “I’d have an easier time getting a kidney. You have to sign your life away on medications. There is a protocol. Trust me, there’s no way I could just raid the dispensary and help myself. Besides, do you even know what poison killed her?”

  “Details.” Mel shrugged but it sounded lame even to her.

  “Pretty important details if you ask me,” Brittany said. “Besides, why would I kill her? Because she was annoying about the reunion? Big deal. I knew it would end eventually, and I wouldn’t have to talk to her for another five years. And I have an alibi. I was with Lianne the entire time. There’s no way I could have poisoned her.”

  “That’s a fair point,” Joe said. Mel scowled at him.

  “Well, if it’s not me and it’s not you, and I don’t think it was Danny,” Mel said, “then who else wanted Cassidy dead?”

  “I still say Danny had the most to gain, but if not him, then I’d guess the same person who wanted to murder her fifteen years ago,” Brittany said. “Kristie Hill.”

  “Her homecoming runner-­up?” Mel asked. “That seems a bit extreme so many years later.”

  “Did you see what she wore to the funeral?” Brittany asked. “Yellow—­like sunshine, buttercup, daisy yellow. She was making a statement.”

  “Which, if she killed Cassidy, also seems pretty odd,” Mel said. “Wouldn’t she have been better served to wear gray and blend?”

  “She probably couldn’t contain her joy,” Brittany said.

  “Did you say the same thing to my uncle?” Mel asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Brittany said. “He didn’t confirm it, but I got the feeling he was on his way over there next.”

  “Can you think of anyone else who had a grudge against Cassidy?” Mel asked.

  Brittany waved her hand as if frustrated with Mel. “It’d be easier to list who didn’t have beef with her. She was the original mean girl, you know that.”

  Mel rolled her hands to indicate she did and that Brittany should continue. Brittany glanced away. She picked up a small container of fish food and dropped a few nibbles into the tank. The betta attacked as if he was afraid the food might get away.

  “Barring the obvious, you, Danny, and Kristie,” Brittany said, “I guess I’d have to say Dwight Pickard.”

  “What?” Mel asked. “Dwight? But he’s like her goliath minion.”

  “And why do you think he was so devoted to her?” Brittany asked.

  “Because they both hated me,” Mel said. “What’s that old expression? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or something like that?”

  “Dwight didn’t hate you,” Brittany said.

  Mel closed one eye and squinted at her. Brittany must have fried her brain over the reunion, because now she wasn’t even making sense.

  “He didn’t,” Brittany insisted.

  “Did you see him at the reunion or the funeral?” Mel asked. “He went right after me. Heck, he even tried to turn the crowd against me.”

  “Old habits die hard, I guess,” Brittany said. “The truth of it is, Dwight was in love with Cassidy and has been since we were in elementary school together.”

  “Dwight loved Cassidy; I knew it,” Mel said. “But why weren’t they ever a couple?”

  “Weren’t they?” Brittany asked. “I don’t have any proof that there was more going on, but who do you think she spent all of her time with when Danny was on the road?”

  “Is that why Dwight’s been single all these years?” Mel asked. “He’s just been playing second-­string to Danny his whole life.”

  “But if Dwight was in love with Cassidy, why would he have murdered her?” Joe asked.

  “Maybe he couldn’t stand being her bench warmer anymore,” Brittany said. She looked sad. “There are things you don’t know that I only learned when we were planning the reunion. Cassidy liked to drink during our meetings and sometimes she got chatty. One night, she told me about Dwight.”

  “That they were involved?” Mel asked.

  “Not in those exact words but the message was clear,” Brittany said. “She told me the only person she’d ever been able to count on was Dwight but that he didn’t fit her image of what her husband would look like. That role was reserved for Danny. She did say that Dwight had a horrific home life with an abusive father and alcoholic mother. To Cassidy’s credit, when we were kids, she always gave Dwight her lunch because she knew he didn’t get fed at home. She was likely the only person in his life who cared about him.”

  Mel sighed. She felt bad for the little boy who’d had such a horrific upbringing. She did. But she could never forgive him for taking it out on her with the constant bullying and name calling. He had made school a living hell for her. If it hadn’t been for Tate and Angie, she didn’t know how she would have survived it.

  “Again, if they were so close, what makes you think he would have harmed Cassidy?” Joe asked.

  “Because at one of our meetings when Cassidy got plastered, Dwight came to pick her up and take her home,” Brittany said. She made a distasteful moue before she continued. “He had to carry her out. On the way, I heard him tell her that he loved her and he’d always be there for her.” Brittany glanced up and met Mel’s gaze. “She laughed in his face. She asked him what a woman like her could ever see in a man like him. That he could never be the one for her. Not ever. It was . . . awful.”

  “Was he angry?” Joe asked. “Did he yell or rage? Did you get the feeling he would harm her?”

  “Worse,” Brittany said. “He looked heartbroken, like his entire reason for being had just died in his arms.”

  Fifteen

  “What do you make of that?” Joe asked. They were driving back to the bakery and Mel felt as if her brain were on fire from all of the information Brittany had shared.

  “I’d be happier if we’d just found proof that Brittany did it,” Mel said. “She’s pretty insufferable for having been captain of the pep squad.”

  “Agreed,” Joe said. “But she has an alibi.”

  “Unless she and Lianne offed Cassidy together,” Mel said.

  “Lianne won the Nightingale Award for Excellence in Nursing,” Joe said. “Not really a killer mentality there.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes, it was listed in the achievements section in your reunion booklet,” Joe said. “You remember, that thing they handed us when we went in.”

  “Oh, right, that thing I threw in the trash.” Mel frowned. “You actually read it?”

  “Yes,” Joe said. “Since my girl’s fabulous cupcake empire was mentioned. I can’t believe you didn’t even look at it. You know, you really should be proud of all that you’ve accomplished since graduation.”

  “I am,” Mel said. “It’s just that the reunion was really not my thing and, honestly, if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

  “But, cupcake, didn’t you have a moment of victory at the reunion?”

  “Victory?” Mel asked. “I don’t know, it’s all overshadowed by Cassidy�
��s murder. I guess for a second there, yeah, I did get to walk in there on my incredibly handsome fiancé’s arm and feel as if all of the crap that happened in high school didn’t matter anymore, but it wasn’t because anyone’s opinion of me had changed, it was because my opinion of me changed. I realized I didn’t need anyone’s approval but my own.”

  “Exactly.” Joe grinned and asked, “So, it was worth it?”

  Mel rolled her eyes. She parked her Mini Cooper in its usual spot.

  “Okay, fine, yes. That was a pretty cool takeaway,” she said. “But I could have lived with not going and being considered a suspect in a murder and I’d be okay with that, too.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Totally.”

  As she climbed out of her car, Mel tried not to feel defeated, but she was running out of possible suspects if she didn’t want to lay the blame on Megan and Danny, who were looking guiltier by the minute. She most definitely did not want to confront Dwight Pickard. Just the thought of it gave her the sweats, but what else could she do? She was going to have to question him, too. She needed a cupcake or three to fortify.

  Joe had to get back to his office before he called it a day so he gave her a quick kiss and promised to meet her at home for dinner. Mel waved good-­bye, wishing they could just go home now and ignore work, and Cassidy’s murder, and Mel’s position as a person of interest. Most especially that last part.

  She entered the bakery through the back door to find the kitchen empty. This was odd. Usually at this time of day, Oz was baking while Marty manned the front counter. Mel pushed her way through the kitchen door into the bakery to see what was happening.

  Chaos! Complete and total chaos!

  Marty was halfway over the counter with Oz and Angie holding him back by the ties of his navy blue apron. Marty’s bald head was red and he looked like he was about to take a swing at the behemoth who stood on the other side of the counter.

  “Don’t ever talk like that about Mel again or I’ll knock that big blocky head right off your body!” Marty yelled.

  “Yeah, you big bully,” Angie snapped. She let go of Marty’s apron and was halfway over the counter when Oz grabbed the back of her shirt

  “What’s going on here?” Mel demanded. They all glanced her way, surprised to see her.

  “A little help here, boss,” Oz called as he planted his feet on the floor and used his full body weight to keep Angie and Marty from launching themselves at the glowering giant on the other side of the counter.

  Mel glanced over the counter and her gaze met Dwight Pickard’s. Well, it didn’t look like she was going to have to go find him after all.

  Marty flailed against Oz’s hold. He reached back and grabbed a cupcake off of the counter. Mel knew exactly what he was thinking and she had no doubt that Dwight would snap Marty in half if he smashed that cupcake on him. She raced forward.

  “Stop! Stop it!” Mel reached up and grabbed the cupcake out of Marty’s hand. “This will not solve anything.”

  “Maybe not, but a little frosting might sweeten his disposition,” Marty said.

  “Listen, old man—­” Dwight leaned forward until he and Marty were practically nose-­to-­nose.

  “Who are you calling old?” Marty jutted his chin forward.

  “That’s it!” Mel said. “Oz, get Marty out of here.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Oz let go of Angie and Mel pushed her way between Angie and the counter. Oz bodily hefted Marty off of the counter and carried him into the kitchen.

  “Put me down!” Marty howled. “I could take him. One knuckle to the eyeball and he’d drop like a bad habit.”

  “Simmer down,” Oz said. “You know your daughters will freak out if you’re in a brawl, and I am not protecting you from Olivia, either.”

  The door swung shut behind them.

  “What do you want, Dwight?” Angie demanded. She was breathing hard and she’d made a fist with her right hand that Mel knew was going to pop him in his fading shiner if he said the wrong thing.

  “I came to talk to her, not you, short stack.” Dwight pointed at Mel and she tried not to notice how enormous his hands were, like he could crush three cupcakes in one squeeze, she was pretty sure. Oh, dear.

  “Listen, Thanos, if you want to talk to Mel, you can call and make an appointment,” Angie said. “You know, so we can have the cops here.”

  “Cops?” Dwight barked out a laugh. “Good idea, then they’ll be here to arrest her when I beat a confession out of her.”

  Mel stared at him. He really thought he could scare her by threatening to hit her? Okay, so it worked a little, but she’d rather eat a raw egg than admit it to him.

  She glared at him and said, “Put one finger on me, and I’ll make sure you are put away for life.”

  “It’d be your word against mine,” he said. He crossed his arms over his massive chest and looked smug.

  “And mine,” Angie said.

  Dwight swiveled his head in her direction. “You don’t matter, pip-­squeak. People will think you lied for her.”

  “Maybe, but that matters and it doesn’t lie,” Mel said. She pointed to the corner of the room where the red light of their security camera was visible. “You’re under surveillance even now. And most likely, my staff has hit the panic button we keep in the kitchen and the authorities are on their way.” The panic button part was a lie, but he didn’t know that. She raised her hands and waved him in with a bravado that was so fake it almost made her smile. “You want to go? Come on.”

  Dwight shook his head at her. “You really think you’re so great now, don’t you? But I see you, Melephant. You’re the same insecure pathetic loser you were in high school.”

  “Yes, I am her,” Mel said. She stepped forward, even though inside she was shaking and felt like throwing up. “And you know what? She’s awesome. I never gave myself the credit I deserved for being a badass and showing up at school every day even though I had to deal with you and all the rest and your constant bullying. Now get out of my bakery and don’t come back.”

  Dwight stepped forward. He leaned over Mel until she could feel his hot breath in her face. He sneered and said, “I know you killed Cassidy and I’m going to prove it.”

  “I didn’t,” Mel said. She heard the kitchen door swing open and she felt Oz and Marty join Angie behind her, silently having her back.

  “She started to write your name,” he said. “It was as good as identifying her killer.”

  “Ha!” Mel scoffed. “More likely, she was going to write something nasty about me—­again,” She looked Dwight up and down, letting her contempt show. “Some people never change.”

  “I saw the red lipstick,” he said. “I saw what she started to write on the wall. She named you. Now, you might be able to charm that idiot Danny into thinking you’re innocent, but you’ll never fool me. You’re a kill—­”

  “Wait! What did you say?” Mel interrupted. She felt her heart pound in her chest. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he didn’t see it right. Either way, she needed clarification on the significance of what he’d just said.

  “You heard me, I said, ‘You’re a kill—­’”

  “No, not that,” Mel snapped. “The lipstick. What did you say about the lipstick?”

  Dwight reared back from her with a weird look, like he thought she was crazy. “I said I saw the red lipstick—­”

  “That’s it!” Mel pointed at him with both hands. She whipped around and found Angie standing right behind her. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure why we care, unless it means I get to punch him in the mouth,” Angie said. She had one eyebrow up and was looking at Mel much the same way Dwight was.

  “We care because Cassidy never wore red lipstick—­ever,” Mel said. “She always wore that distinctive shade of bright pink.”

  She
glanced back at Dwight. “You were close to her. You’ve probably seen her more than anyone else; did she ever change her lipstick color from the one she wore in high school?”

  Dwight’s eyebrows went up. Then he looked at Mel as if he was meeting her for the first time. He looked surprised or a little impressed. “No, never, she always wore the pink. ‘Pink Cashmere’ was the name. She never wore anything else.”

  “Then why would she have had red lipstick in the ladies’ room with her?” Mel asked. She stared at Dwight as if she could see inside his skull. “Are you absolutely positive it was red lipstick that you saw on the wall?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “And it wasn’t her pink. Not even close.”

  Mel clapped her hands together. Then she spun around to face the others. “We have to find out who was wearing red lipstick at the reunion.” She looked at Dwight and added, “And we need you to identify the color. No one else here saw it.”

  Dwight nodded. He looked Mel up and down as if considering her from every angle before agreeing. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, I see where you’re going here. I’m in.”

  “One problem,” Angie said. “How do we get any pictures from the reunion?”

  “There was a social media page,” Dwight said. “Everyone loaded their pictures onto it.”

  “Oz, go grab my laptop, please,” Mel said.

  Oz stepped forward. He moved right in front of Dwight so they were mere inches apart, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  It took Mel aback to realize that he had a few inches and a few pounds on Dwight. It checked Dwight a bit, too, as he jutted out his jaw and said, “Don’t worry, kid.”

  “Don’t call me kid,” Oz said. Then he blew aside his bangs and met Dwight’s gaze with his own. Whatever Dwight saw, it convinced him not to antagonize the youth. He gave Oz one swift nod and Oz turned and headed back to Mel’s office.

  He was back in a moment and handed Mel her laptop. She took it over to one of the café tables and opened it up. She gestured for Dwight to sit and once she logged in, she turned the laptop to him.