A Cupcake to Die For

by Mary Jane Forbes

  “Something new. Do you like pumpkin?”

  “Love pumpkin.”

  “That’s what they are, Pumpkin spice with buttercream frosting sprinkled with chocolate bits.”

  “Wow, you’re going to have your own bakery before you know it.”

  Star paused at the door, giving CeeCee and Stuart a hug, then on to the kitchen for a tea party.

  CeeCee was ready with fresh coffee for the men, but she and Star kept with the occasion—a cup of cinnamon tea with a pumpkin spice cupcake.

  After the oohs and aahs for the little chef, Jenny Sue ran next door to tell her friend about the tea party with a real baker.

  The adults retreated to the patio. It was time to attend to business, but not before CeeCee asked Star if she had any after effects from her stay in the hospital and if the police had the culprit.

  “I get tired at times during the day, so I take a nap. But it’s getting better.”

  “They have some leads,” Tyler said. “That’s all we know.”

  Stuart and CeeCee caught the quick look Star and Tyler exchanged and dropped the subject.

  Stuart handed them a typed report, a copy for each. Report in hand, Tyler jumped to his feet. “What’s this? An Indie nominating committee has a clip of the Baker Girl series and is giving it to the full Emmy board for consideration in the Reality Television category? Stuart, that’s fantastic. However did you manage that?”

  “Connections, my man. I talked to so and so who talked to so and so, who requested to see the first episode. Of course it didn’t hurt that the hostess was also featured in the clip. They loved the shot where Star was sitting on the floor by the oven watching her pumpkin pie to be sure it didn’t burn.”

  “Do you think there’s a chance…an Emmy?” Star said.

  “Let me put it this way, a phrase you’ve heard before I’m sure. Any publicity is good publicity. The mere news that the Baker Girl is being considered is great. CeeCee, tell our friends here what we, our family is considering,” Stuart said with a smile, leaning over to give his wife a peck on the cheek.

  “We’ve set everything in motion that we can here in Hollywood. What is left can be developed, driven someplace else. We’re looking at relocating to Atlanta, Georgia. The city has become a hub for the creation of streaming content. Independent productions have flocked to the city along with talent. More support…less corrupt. Less sleeping your way to a starring role. I’ll be traveling next week to look for a house and office space,” CeeCee said.

  “No kidding. That’s a wonderful idea,” Tyler said. “That means we’re all on the move. Star and I have decided to move back East as well.”

  “Tomorrow we leave to see a publisher who reached out to me about publishing the kid’s cookbook,” Star said. “It will be illustrated by none other than my fiancé.” She reached over giving Tyler’s arm a squeeze.”

  “If you’re in Atlanta, that will make it much easier to film a kids cooking series—directed and produced by you and CeeCee. We’ll work to coordinate the two projects—TV series and cookbook,” Tyler said.

  “That’s great news,” Stuart said.

  “How exciting,” CeeCee exclaimed. “How long will you be in New York City?”

  “We’ll only be meeting with the publisher—in and out of the city. No sightseeing,” Tyler said. “We must get together as soon as we get back. We can make plans on how to handle the projects, Baker Girl and the kids,” Tyler said.

  “Does Jenny Sue know what you’re planning? It must be a little scary for you to leave her doctors,” Star said, her brow scrunched at the thought.

  “We already have referrals in Atlanta. While I’m house hunting, I’ll also be meeting with a few doctors. Jenny Sue has been a bit reluctant to the idea. Is it okay if we tell her your plans on moving East? I think your being just a few hours away will turn her around,” CeeCee said.

  “I bet you’ll be glad to leave Hollywood and hopefully the person who delivered that pizza,” Stuart said.

  There was no outward change to Star’s facial expression, but Tyler felt the chill that ran up her arm.

  - - -

  Packing that evening for their trip to New York, Tyler noticed Star wasn’t herself—no comments on Jenny Sue’s pumpkin cupcakes or the big news that the Washingtons were moving to Atlanta. He was sure it had to do with Stuart’s remark about the pizza delivery. He hitched up on the bed patting her pillow next to him.

  Star looked into his eyes then dropped her gaze. She climbed up next to him and leaned against the headboard. He reached over for her hand.

  “Did you hear anything new from Detective Drake?” she said.

  “No, but I did ask when I told him we were leaving for New York tomorrow morning.”

  “I know you don’t think Roxy ordered the pizza, that she’s not the mastermind behind the delivery, the…”

  “Babe, Drake says all the evidence, which he admitted is circumstantial, like no fingerprints, points to her. So we have to trust him.”

  “I guess. I’m still a bit shaky. But, Mr. Jackman, I’m super excited about tomorrow,” she said, trying to smile as she slid off the bed. Heading to the closet, she snatched a hanger with a blouse to wear for the meeting with the publisher.

  “I’m done packing,” Tyler said. “How about a glass of wine while you finish?”

  “Yes, yes, that would be nice,” she replied.

  Tyler smiled. Star was picking up Drake’s habit of repeating words when she started a sentence. He sighed. Yes, it was going to be good to get out of town, out of Hollywood.

  Chapter 53

  THE USUAL BRIGHT SUNNY day was spoiled when clouds moved in over Hollywood but Roxy didn’t care. She was already in a foul mood. Without Tyler the team had lost their direction. They were operating in a vacuum with the absence of their leader.

  “That bitch! It’s always Star this, Star that,” Roxy muttered. “The heck with Ben and Sam. Both losers. Who needs them anyway… only good for comic relief.”

  But she and Tyler, they were different. They were a team. The other two guys were baggage, hangers-on. No matter how Roxy tried nothing worked—food, isolation at Twentynine Palms, hints at how nice a relationship would be, a sexual relationship, not with Star, but with her. She couldn’t get him to look at her other than part of the team.

  Roxy wandered aimlessly around her townhouse smoking one cigarette after another. She’d kicked the habit, but without Tyler she was back to chain smoking. Well she’d show him. With Star out of the picture they could rule the cartoon design space in Hollywood, even Disney would clamor for their illustrations.

  At the knock on her door, she snuffed out her cigarette in the kitchen sink then stepped to the door. Looking through the peephole she saw two uniformed policemen. The television was on loud so she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t home, or maybe she could. She dashed to the back entrance mere feet from where her car was parked. Climbing in, she started the engine, gunned the motor, turned out onto the street.

  There were three blocks to the first light. Glancing in the rearview mirror she saw a squad car closing in. If she was going to evade them, she’d have to turn onto a side street soon.

  The next one.

  She was going too fast.

  The tires squealed, but she made it.

  Watching in the mirror. Watching.

  The squad car turned continuing the chase.

  Sirens wailing.

  She slapped the steering wheel.

  It was no use.

  Roxy pulled to the side of the road.

  An officer appeared ordering her to get out of the car, hands out front, in the air.

  The second officer joined his partner.

  “Ran the plates. Name, Roxanne De Luca,” the officer said.

  “Come on miss. You’re going for a little ride with us,” he said putting her wrists in handcuffs.

  “What for? Ouch. That hurts. So I was out for a little joy ride?” Roxy said.

  “
Yup, among other things. Now get in. Careful you don’t knock yourself out.” The officer said his hand protecting her head as she climbed in.

  - - -

  Drake was ready. He asked Wilson to accompany him to Room #1. The pair ambled in, Wilson putting the recorder in the center of the table and pressed the ON button. Wilson slumped at the end of the five-foot table. Today he was the friendly cop.

  Drake sat in the chair facing Ms. De Luca. He leaned back.

  “Roxanne De Luca?” Drake said.

  “Right,” Roxy replied leaning back, assuming Drake’s nonchalant pose.

  “You work with Tyler Jackman?”

  “Yup.”

  “How long have you known Mr. Jackman?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “How long, Miss De Luca?”

  “About a year.”

  “Do you know Star Bloom?”

  “Not so much.”

  “What were you doing last Thursday night?”

  “That’s for me to know, AKA none of your business.”

  “Miss De Luca, I’m making it my business to know. You are a person of interest in the death of Vincent Roth and the attempted murder on the life of Miss Star Bloom. You see, I’m deadly serious.”

  Drake leaned in, his eyes fastened on the suspect.

  “Really! Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree, detective.”

  “I ask you again, where were you?”

  “I was with friends, AKA none of your business.”

  “I see, I see. Officer Wilson, please take Ms. De Luca down the hall to the jailer. Maybe forty-eight hours locked up will clear Ms. De Luca’s memory as well as her attitude.”

  “You can’t do this,” Roxy screamed as Wilson hauled her out of the chair and down the hall. Hearing the commotion, another officer ran out to assist Wilson.

  “I get a phone call! I want a lawyer!” Roxy screamed.

  Drake sighed. It had been a long day. It was time to go home to the missus. Pot roast night.

  Chapter 54

  EVEN THOUGH TYLER THOUGHT he was a worldly fellow, they both were excited to be together in New York City, considering it a checkmark in their five-year plan.

  The publisher’s office was on Fifth Avenue in the heart of the Big Apple’s skyscrapers. Acting like they’d been a part of the city forever, they nonchalantly walked into the building and found their way to the publisher’s receptionist. Giving their names, they were then escorted to a conference room.

  Grace Turnbull was a caricature in her own right—horn-rimmed glasses, silver hair pulled tight into a bun, and stick thin. Her ruby red lips spread into a big smile under sparkling black eyes. She greeted her guests with a hearty handshake.

  “Miss Bloom, wonderful to finally meet you. And you must be the lucky man, Mr. Jackman?”

  “That would be me,” Tyler said smiling back, his eyes beaming behind his black rimmed glasses.

  Star could see her fiancé thought the publisher amusing. In his mind he was probably sketching Ms. Turnbull.

  “Coffee, tea, martini?” Ms. Turnbull said laughing. Unphased by the strange look on their faces, she waved them to a carafe of coffee on the table.

  Star pulled out a preliminary draft, a few pages of the cookbook, explaining her ideas.

  “This is going to be such fun,” Turnbull said. “My illustrator will be overjoyed with such a project and—”

  “Ms. Turnbull—”

  “Grace, dear, call me Grace.”

  “Grace…here’s Tyler’s sketch of the little baker featured in one of the recipes—Mexican scrambled eggs.”

  “Oh, it’s darling,” Grace said looking over the top of her glasses. “Simply adorable.”

  “Yes, it is, Grace. So that Tyler and I don’t mislead you, Tyler will do the illustrations for my kid’s cookbook or there is no deal,” Star said her eyes riveted on Ms. Turnbull.

  Turnbull’s eyebrows spiked. She looked again at the illustration in her hand, at the pages of recipes beginning with scrambled eggs, then tie-dyed cupcakes. Her head lifted sharply.

  “But of course, dear people. Tyler will be the illustrator. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Star had held her breath wondering where she got the chutzpah to speak her mind to a New York City publisher. Letting out a sigh, she smiled. All three laughed. Of course, Mr. Jackman was going to be the illustrator. Anything else was unthinkable.

  Ms. Turnbull went over what Star, and of course Tyler, could expect in the way of support from Turnbull Publishing, a company founded by her late father. There would be several meetings in New York as the book went through the legal department, the publication department, and the marketing department. Hopefully, the first book would be ready for launch early in the new year, but definitely by May. Star, and of course Tyler, should expect several phone calls along the way. Best to nip any glitches before they become sinkholes was her pet phrase. Grace handed a letter of intent to Star, stating that Star Bloom agreed that Turnbull Publishing would publish her kid’s cookbook. As it made its way through the agreement process, if both parties were happy with the arrangement, a contract, would be offered for future books in the series.

  Turnbull took a breath and Star jumped in.

  “Ms. Turnbull, Grace, Tyler and I are forming a company in the next few weeks. I will be happy to sign this letter of intent after our lawyer reads it and agrees with us that Turnbull Publishing will be a good fit.”

  Hearing Star’s statement, both of Turnbull’s brows shot up as well as her eyelids.

  “Please, don’t take this as an impediment to our working together. It’s just a legal thing. I’m sure you understand,” Star said with a sweet smile. “I can’t imagine another publishing house launching my book.”

  Turnbull’s brows and eyelids relaxed.

  They shook hands, a gentlemen’s agreement, and settled on a due date for the first draft. Turnbull’s legal department would draw up their standard contract including the royalty agreement. Star Bloom and Tyler Jackman could expect it next week.

  With smiles all around, Star Bloom and Tyler Jackman strolled out of Turnbull Publishing and hailed a taxi back to the airport barely making their flight. Collapsing in their seats, the last drop of adrenaline drained from their bodies. Reaching for Star’s hand, Tyler gave it a squeeze and

  closed his eyes.

  “Ty?”

  “Hmm.”

  “We have to call our parents as soon as we get home. We have to tell them we’re getting married,” Star whispered.

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter 55

  WAS IT THE WHIRLWIND trip to New York City and the successful meeting for Star’s kid’s cookbook illustrated by none other than her fiancé. Or, was it the four-hour flight back to LAX then the drive home to Hollywood that exhausted them? Whatever it was, the partners of S&T Jackman Corporation crash-landed on their bed.

  Waking at noon, Star was nonplussed that she was still in her traveling clothes. However, with the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee she required first thing in the morning, she decided it was time to get off the bed.

  Tyler padded into their bedroom. At least he had changed into black jogging shorts and a white t-shirt. With a smile and a peck on Star’s cheek, he set her coffee mug on the bedside table then climbed on the bed beside her.

  With his cell in hand he turned to look at her now sitting up sipping her coffee. “Call my folks first? Let the cat out of the bag we’re moving back and getting married? Ask if we can bunk in my old room while we look for an apartment or house?”

  Star nodded leaning back against the headboard cradling her coffee.

  Tyler tapped the directory.

  “Tyler, hello,” Cindy Jackman said. “Your father and I started to think you had fallen off the earth. Tony, come here. Hurry. It’s Tyler.”

  “Star’s sitting next to me. Is your phone on speaker? We have news.”

  “Hi Cindy. I can’t wait to see you,” Star said nestling next to Tyler
.

  “See us? Are you and that son of ours coming to visit, finally?” Tony said.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Dad. Star and are moving back to Daytona Beach and—”

  “That’s wonderful news son. When?” Tony said.

  “Hi Tony,” Star said with a giggle. “Real soon, and, drum roll, we’re getting married.”

  “Oh my, that’s fantastic,” Cindy said. “Married before or after you move?”

  “After, Mom. I was wondering if Star and I can camp out in my old bedroom. It’s huge—”

  “Of course, you can,” Cindy said. “Do you want me to start going through the listings. My real estate business is booming here in Florida. Are you going to rent or buy?”

  “Not sure yet. We have a lot of balls in the air. Mom, we are also looking for office space—small to start. Maybe three or four employees. A place near Star’s bakery would be a plus.”

  “Wow, you two are moving fast,” Tony said.

  “I know. We have a list of calls to make. We mainly wanted to give you the headlines—moving back and getting married. We’ll be back to you shortly with more details,” Tyler said.

  “Tyler, how soon will you be moving?” Cindy asked.

  “Two or three weeks.” Tyler looked at Star. She nodded back kissing his cheek. “Bye for now. We love you.”

  - - -

  Tyler handed Star her tote he brought in from the kitchen. Digging out her cell, Star turned to him. “Gran then my folks? With luck they’ll be together.”

  Tyler nodded and Star tapped GRAN.

  “Star, are you all right? I had a frightful dream, an accident—”

  “I’m fine Gran. How are you?”

  “I’m fine sweet girl. How are those recipes I sent working out?”

  “Perfect. I’ll fill you in later. Are Mom and Dad home? I’d like them to be near your speaker.”

  “Hang on, I’ll get them. Mary, Kenneth, Star’s on the phone. She has news. Star?”

  “I’m here Gran with Tyler.”

  “They’re coming down the hall…here they are.”