The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery)

by Brady, Jacklyn

  “Would you answer my question, ma’am?”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Looked kind of like something from where I was standing.”

  “Oh? And why were you standing there in the first place?”

  “Working my case,” he repeated with another shrug.

  I felt a primal scream stirring deep inside me, but before it rose to the surface, Miss Frankie’s car rounded the corner. I forced down the scream and walked away. I didn’t let myself look back, but I could feel Winslow boring holes in my back with his eyes the whole way. And I told myself that I had to find some way to get Detective Winslow off my back soon. Otherwise, I might just give him a reason to lock me up.

  Twenty

  Winslow slithered back to his car just as Miss Frankie and Pearl Lee pulled into the driveway. Pearl Lee bounded out of the car first, waggling her fingers at me as she tottered past. Miss Frankie got out a little slower, but she hugged me with her usual enthusiasm. “What a pleasant surprise, sugar. I’m so glad you’re here. I swear, you must have read my mind. I have a few things I need to go over with you.”

  After the day I’d had, her hug felt like soft fleece. I wanted to wrap myself in it and stay there for hours. “Oh? Something concerning Zydeco?”

  Miss Frankie released me, then looked down. “Rita, sweetheart, what have you been doing?”

  I took a look at my clothes and grimaced at what I saw. “Pulling weeds and hauling trash. I didn’t realize until we started working today just how badly the neighborhood needed to be spruced up.”

  “Well, you’re a sight,” she said, completely failing to notice that my “helper” was not grunged out to match. “You just run on up to the shower. There’s a robe in Philippe’s old room and we can throw your things into the washer while we eat.” She started walking toward the back door. “I wanted to talk to you about Edie’s baby shower. I’d like your opinions on the location and the menu. I’ve narrowed both down quite a bit, but you know Edie better than I do. You’ll probably have a better idea about what she’d like.” She didn’t pause for a response from me and I wasn’t fast enough to slide one in before she changed the subject. “You look exhausted, but luckily supper’s all ready to heat up. I’ll pop it into the oven.”

  The thought of a hot meal and a shower nearly made my knees buckle. Miss Frankie is a terrific cook and I was starving. “It sounds wonderful,” I said as we entered the kitchen. “But I’m not planning to stay that long.”

  Pearl Lee had paused at the table and was digging around in her purse. She glanced up when I spoke, and she wagged a finger at me. “Don’t be silly. You look exhausted. Let us take care of you.”

  I somehow managed not to laugh at that. Apparently she mistook my admirable restraint for unspoken agreement. “Now really,” she said, taking my arm and tugging me toward the front of the house. “You can’t sit down for a meal looking like that.” It seemed as if everyone I’d run into that day had been pushing and pulling me around. Having Pearl Lee pass judgment on me was too much. Maybe a shower and some clean clothes would help me feel better. It sure couldn’t hurt.

  As gently as I could at that moment, I jerked my arm from her grasp. “I know where the bathroom is. I can get there on my own.”

  Pearl Lee’s eyes rounded in shock and she shot a “Did you see that?” look at her cousin.

  Miss Frankie gave me the raised eyebrows that meant I’d just committed a serious social faux pas. “Are you all right, sugar?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, barely resisting the urge to rat out Pearl Lee right then and there. But I knew how my mother-in-law would react if I went on the attack so I put a little honey into my smile and tried to handle the problem Southern style. “It’s just been a long day.”

  “I’m worried about you,” Miss Frankie said, coming around the island for a closer look at me. “You haven’t slowed down a bit since that van almost hit you the other night.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to slow down,” I said, struggling to keep my smile in place. “We have a couple of large orders this week, and of course, there’s everything that comes with being part of the Magnolia Square Business Alliance.” Which was your idea, by the way.

  Pearl Lee turned her Botox-injected face back in my direction. “I admire you for getting your hands dirty. I really do. My mama would turn over in her grave if I’d done what you did today.”

  If I’d said what I was thinking right then, my mother-in-law would never again consider me refined enough to run Zydeco. I already felt like I was walking a razor-thin line. “Yes. Well. It comes with the job, I guess.”

  Miss Frankie took my chin in her hand and checked my face thoroughly. “When I suggested that Zydeco become part of the alliance, I didn’t realize it would mean putting you to work like that. Couldn’t you have sent someone else to do the actual physical labor?”

  “If I had done that,” I said, “Zydeco would have been the only member business without its management there. I know you’re concerned about appearances but that would have made us look worse than digging in and getting a bit dirty.”

  “If you say so.” Miss Frankie’s frown deepened a little further. “I suppose you know best. But it might have been nice if one of the others had been able to help you. Obviously, all that work took a lot out of you.”

  I slid a look at Pearl Lee, who had suddenly developed a deep fascination with Miss Frankie’s china cupboard. “I was supposed to have help,” I said. “Edie is our other alliance member, but since she’s in the middle of a high-risk pregnancy, her doctor said absolutely no to helping. I thought I had someone else lined up but it didn’t work out.”

  “Oh, that sweet thing,” Pearl Lee simpered. “So brave.”

  I ignored Pearl Lee partly because I wanted to smack her, and partly because I’d just remembered what Miss Frankie said out on the driveway. “Did you say you wanted to talk to me about the baby shower?”

  She shooed me toward the door. “Yes, but we can do that while we eat. Run upstairs. We have about thirty minutes before supper is ready. Pearl Lee, why don’t you tear the romaine for a Caesar salad?”

  Pearl Lee kicked off her shoes and practically skipped across the room, eager to show Miss Frankie what a willing helper she was.

  I climbed the stairs slowly, then grabbed a towel from the linen closet and the robe from its hook in Philippe’s childhood room. I was in and out in less than a minute, too tired and emotional to risk a meaningful encounter with his things. We’d been on the verge of divorce when he died, but losing him had made me realize that divorce and separation don’t always kill love. Sometimes they just alter its appearance for a little while. I had loved Philippe completely once, and I was coming to terms with the fact that part of me always would.

  In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. I’m not sure anything has ever felt any better than that hot water melting away the stiffness in my joints and the soreness in my muscles as it carried off the dirt I hadn’t been able to clean off at Zydeco. By the time I returned to the kitchen, Miss Frankie and Pearl Lee were sitting at the table surrounded by mouthwatering aromas and glasses of sweet tea, laughing together at something.

  Miss Frankie hopped up and poured a glass for me. “Just in time,” she said as she put it on the table in front of me. “Pearl Lee and I were just talking about the time our uncle Ellis shot himself in the leg, trying to keep my daddy from finding his secret hunting spot. You never heard a man make such a fuss.”

  I smiled tiredly and asked, “Which one? Uncle Ellis or your dad?”

  Miss Frankie sat again and folded her hands on the table. “Uncle Ellis. Bless his heart, he was a real piece of work, that man. He thought the sun rose and set on his grandnephew Philippe, though.”

  Pearl Lee dashed a tear from the corner of her eye and sighed. “Lord, but I hate change. I wish things could just stay the same forever.” Catching back a sob, she stumbled to her feet and went in search of a tissue.


  Miss Frankie let out a shaky sigh and got up to pull dinner from the oven. “Change is hard,” she agreed. And then she shook off the mood and was back to her old self. “Speaking of change, Rita, we really need to nail down a date and time for the baby shower. We need to get moving in case Edie goes into labor early, but I can’t settle any of the other details until we’ve talked.”

  I looked over to see what she’d made for dinner, but all I could see was a covered casserole dish. “What does Edie say? Have you asked her?”

  “Well, of course not. I’m working on surprising her.”

  I laughed and reached for my glass. “Good luck with that. You already asked her for addresses. She knows about the shower.”

  “She knows there is a shower in the works,” Miss Frankie corrected me. “She doesn’t know where or when or—” She cut herself off suddenly and cut a sharp glance at me. “Or any of the other details.”

  That fleeting look made me uneasy. “What details?”

  Miss Frankie pulled a pan from the stovetop and removed the lid. Steam drifted up around her head. “Oh, you know,” she said with a casual wave of the lid. “Decorations, food, flowers . . .”

  “The guest list?”

  Miss Frankie transferred something creamy and rich into a serving dish. “I do want to get your opinion on the venue.”

  The pleasant glow from my own shower evaporated and I sat up a little straighter. “Venue? What venue? I thought we’d just have the shower at Zydeco some evening after work.”

  Miss Frankie gave me some big, wide amber-colored eyes. “Oh, Rita. Really.” She laughed and sprinkled parsley over the dish. “You can’t have it at Zydeco. That’s hardly an appropriate setting to celebrate that sweet little baby, and there’s certainly not enough room.”

  A warning buzz skittered across the back of my neck. “There’s plenty of room,” I said. “We’re having a small shower, remember? It’s just for the Zydeco family, and maybe a few other friends if Edie has anyone else she wants to invite.”

  “I’ll work out those details,” Miss Frankie said without looking at me. “You’re not to worry about the guest list. But I would like you to look at the menu I’ve discussed with the caterer.”

  I stood so I could look her in the eye. “We don’t need a caterer. I thought we agreed on that.”

  Miss Frankie smiled sweetly and pulled another serving dish from a cupboard. “I know what you think, and I know how Edie feels, but I simply cannot put together a skimpy little party for that baby.” She held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “Don’t argue with me, Rita. I’ve been a mother and I know a thing or two about stubborn pride and regrets. And besides, we made a deal. I’ll take over the shower. You give Pearl Lee a job.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “You’ve done your part, and you’ve done it beautifully. I couldn’t be more pleased. Pearl Lee certainly seems happy with y’all at the bakery. She was telling me all about the golf course cake and how beautiful it’s going to be. I couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at it while I was there. She seems happier than I’ve ever seen her, and I’m sure it’s because she’s contributing something of value.”

  Or because she’d been chasing after Scotty for three days. But how could I admit failure after that? My brain was too sluggish to keep our conversation straight. And then Pearl Lee came back into the room and gave me an almost maternal kiss on the top of my head, adding to the confusion I felt. “But the thing is,” I said around a yawn, “Edie has been very clear about what she wants and what she doesn’t want.”

  “Yes, of course. She wants a happy, healthy baby. That’s the most important thing of all.” Miss Frankie carried the salad to the table and the scent of garlic made my stomach rumble. “Now no more talk about the shower or about Zydeco until after we eat,” she said firmly. “I can show you the menu later, if you’re not too tired.” Her smile stretched her mouth wide, and her expression seemed as sweet as it could possibly have been—but the glint of steel in her eye made me suspect that I’d been outmaneuvered once again.

  Twenty-one

  Three hours later, I rounded the corner onto my street for the third time and began the search for a parking space. I’d circled the block twice, on the lookout for Detective Winslow. I wouldn’t have put it past him to camp out and wait for me on my home turf, and I was way too tired and frustrated to want another encounter with him. For the first time in days, luck was on my side. I didn’t see him anywhere.

  The restaurant next door was doing a brisk business, so I parked at the far end of the block and walked back. It took me a while to get out of the car and walk home, but that gave me plenty of time to think about dinner at Miss Frankie’s. We’d indulged in a lot of polite small talk while we ate, all pretending not to notice the big old elephant sitting in the middle of the table. I’d bided my time, waiting for a chance to talk to Pearl Lee, but just as we were finishing the meal, she developed a debilitating headache and escaped.

  Maybe she was telling the truth; maybe all that Botox had finally caught up with her. Whether Pearl Lee was actually in pain or not, she’d dodged another bullet. All I could do was help Miss Frankie wash up and then head home. Not only had I failed to solve a single problem on my list, but Miss Frankie’s talk about venues and catering for the baby shower had added a couple. She’d pushed a folder into my hands as I left and asked me to get back to her with my thoughts. I’d given them to her right then and there: No special venue. No caterer. She was to plan a nice, little shower for Edie and a few friends. But I knew that wasn’t the end of it. The folder still in my hands was proof of that.

  What little positive energy I had left drained away when I realized that my house was completely dark. I hadn’t expected to be out so late, so I hadn’t left the porch light on. It wasn’t a huge thing, but right that minute it felt almost overwhelming. I tripped over an uneven piece of sidewalk on my way across the lawn and battled tears of frustration as I struggled to get the key in the lock.

  “Rita?”

  The voice came out of the darkness and startled me. I whipped around, holding my keys in front of me like a weapon. “Who’s there?”

  A shadow stirred near the fence and Gabriel stepped into the moonlight. He held his arms high in surrender and a slow sexy Cajun smile curved his lips. He swaggered toward me wearing a tight pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt that made it clear to anyone with eyes what terrific shape he was in. “Hey, hey, hey! Calm down, chérie. It’s just me.”

  I let out a sigh of relief and lowered the keys to my side. “You scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”

  He reached the bottom step and stopped there. “Waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? I had some time and it’s a nice night. I didn’t expect to wait so long, but I’m not complaining. I discovered that the little shop on the corner has great coffee and the Thai restaurant next door keeps their restrooms clean. The owner of that knitting shop on the other side, though”—he jerked his head at the shop in question—“is an extremely unpleasant woman.”

  I laughed and moved to one side so he could join me on the porch. “Awww, what happened? You couldn’t win her over with your charm and good looks?”

  Gabriel climbed the steps and stood close enough for me to catch the faded scent of his cologne. A delicious shiver tickled my spine, but I tried to ignore it. My porch isn’t big so I couldn’t move far, but I did take a step back and put a little distance between us.

  “She thought I was up to no good,” he said. “She threatened to call the police.”

  I hadn’t forgotten how he’d distracted me so Pearl Lee could slip away with Scotty, and I still wasn’t happy about it, but it was nice to see a friendly face. “If I could get the key in the lock, I’d invite you in. You might even be able to talk me into making coffee.”

  With a gentleness that almost made me cry, Gabriel took the keys out of my hand and unlocked the door on the first try. “Sounds
great to me,” he said, handing the keys back to me. “I heard what happened with Scotty this afternoon. I came to make sure you’re hanging in there.”

  I tossed my keys and my bag onto the small table just inside the entryway and kicked off my shoes. “I’m fine. It was a little disconcerting, but he didn’t actually do anything.”

  Now that we were in the light, Gabriel ran his dark eyes over me, taking stock.

  “Don’t say it,” I warned. “I know I look like yesterday’s trash.”

  “You look fine,” he said. “Just sunburned and exhausted. You want to talk about it?”

  “More than almost anything,” I admitted. He’d never been to my house before, so I nodded toward the back and said, “Kitchen’s this way. I’ll make some coffee and see if I have some cookies or something. Will that do?”

  He smiled and followed me down the hall. “You don’t need to feed me.”

  “The cookies are for me,” I said with a grin. “But you’re welcome to share.” Once in the kitchen, I focused on making coffee. “What are you doing off work so early?”

  Gabriel took a chair at the table, angling it so he could watch me work. “I wanted to see you so I talked Brandon into working overtime.”

  That was odd. I slid a glance at him and tried to read his expression. “Just because you heard about Scotty?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Edgar said Scotty looked madder than a three-legged gator. What was it all about?”

  I pulled a dozen pecan balls from the cookie jar, tasted one to make sure they were fresh, and arranged them on a plate covered with a lacy paper doily. “I suggested to Pearl Lee that she might want to be careful around Scotty. Apparently, she shared my concerns with him. He took offense.”

  Gabriel frowned. “You think she should be careful because . . .”

  “Because she’s only known him for five minutes, and she’s moving too fast. Plus, I’m supposed to be keeping her away from men. That stunt you pulled at the Duke put me in a bad spot. Miss Frankie thinks I’m doing this super job of keeping Pearl Lee busy, yet she’s out doing who knows what with Scotty. This can only end badly.”