Butterscotch Dream Killer

by Summer Prescott

  “No,” Missy sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s not a whole lot that we can do until the authorities down there complete their assessment of the remaining family members.”

  “They aren’t seriously considering giving her to those people, are they?” Echo was astonished. “She’d be so much better off with you and Chas.”

  “We’re hoping that they finish the assessment soon, but in the meantime, we visit with her every day, and they’re going to let us take her to the Fall Festival with us.”

  “Oh, that’ll be fun,” Echo smiled faintly, trying to be happy for her friend, though she was scared to death for her husband’s safety.

  “How’s Scott holding up?” Missy asked.

  Scott Kellerman was Kel’s son from an old girlfriend who had disappeared after learning that she was pregnant. Father and son hadn’t been united until after her tragic murder, last year.

  “He’s been wonderful, helping me with Jazzy, ordering pizza when I forget to cook, keeping his room clean. He’s been extra ferocious when killing the aliens in his video games since we heard about Kel.”

  “He’s a good boy,” Missy nodded.

  “Yes, he is.”

  Another tear fell, and Echo swiped it away absently.

  “How’s Beulah’s chili coming along?” she grasped for a safe subject that wouldn’t make her cry.

  “Well, between you, me and the fence post,” Missy lowered her voice dramatically, “that chili is too darn hot for me. I tried a spoon of it, and it brought tears to my eyes.”

  “I bet Beulah laughed,” one corner of Echo’s mouth quirked up into a smile.

  Missy giggled. “She most certainly did. I probably drank a gallon of milk before I could breathe again. She muttered something about “little wilting hot house flowers”.”

  Echo snickered. “At least being vegan spares me from the wrath of Beulah’s chili.”

  “I’m going to be trying out different cornbread recipes tonight to make cornbread muffins for the Festival. Wanna keep me company while I experiment?”

  “I don’t want you and Chas to have to put up with a teething baby in your free time,” Echo sighed.

  “Nonsense. Chas won’t even be there, he has some sort of dinner with the Chief of Police, and Jazzy’s fussing doesn’t bother me a bit. That’s just life, darlin,’” Missy insisted. “Come over, we’ll have girl time and watch movies. Bring your jammies and Jazzy’s, we’ll make a slumber party out of it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Missy hugged her suffering friend.

  **

  Using the virtually limitless resources that Chas Beckett has at his disposal, Spencer Bengal secured a flight plan for the small, private aircraft which had been used to take Kel into the Alps. He’d hired a helicopter pilot that would take him to places he’d pinpointed on the map after calculating projected air speed, winds and climate factors. Based on the terrain, and the timing of the last known communication from the small plane, he didn’t hold much hope for his friend’s safety, but for Kel’s sake, and for Echo’s, he would try to find him. He desperately hoped that his mission would be one of rescue, rather than one of recovery.

  Frustrated that he’d been snowed in, the helicopter unable to take off, he plotted potential courses for a crash, calculating which ones would be the most likely, based upon several variables. It was impossible to appreciate the stark beauty of the Alpine landscape with so much at stake, and Spencer stayed glued to his task, stopping only to sleep. With any luck, the weather would break near dawn, and he could get an early start. Training was the only thing that allowed him to slip into a deep, restful sleep, where worry didn’t exist, and friends weren’t in danger of frostbite…or worse.

  Rising well before the sun the next morning, Spencer finally got clearance from the Swiss authorities to take the helicopter up now that the squall had passed. Following his charts, he and the pilot scanned the snowy slopes, flying back and forth across the swaths that Spencer had identified as being likely candidates for locations of the plane, or what might be left of it. Their search was fruitless, until at long last the pilot spoke through the radio in his helmet.

  “See that?” he pointed.

  Spencer craned his head to follow the direction that the pilot pointed, as he hovered above a snowy slope. He squinted, despite the protection of his sunglasses, then when the object came into focus, his face fell.

  “Yeah, I see it,” he muttered.

  “What’s it look like to you?” the pilot still scrutinized the object and the surrounding area.

  “Looks like a wing,” Spencer admitted reluctantly.

  “That was my thought too.”

  “Can you put her down anywhere near there?”

  The pilot shook his head. “Nope. Way too steep. The best I can do is this clearing at the base of the mountain. Mark this spot on your map. Once I drop you and your supplies in, it’ll still take you a day or two to get up to this point. I can transport more gear up there and drop it down to you if you need it. We’ll keep in contact via radio.”

  “Sounds good,” Spencer nodded, hoping that they weren’t already too late. A day or two for a civilian, who was most likely injured, to survive in this weather was an eternity. “Let’s go to the clearing.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  * * *

  Missy’s shop, Cupcakes in Paradise, was closed for the weekend, because everyone in the sleepy beach town of Calgon, both locals and tourists alike, would be at the Fall Festival. Missy had risen early. Typically Spencer would have been on hand to help Echo set up her sidewalk sale, but since he was somewhere in Switzerland, Chas had volunteered to take his place. Missy would be assisting Beulah in getting ready for the chili cook-off, and she also had hundreds of cupcakes to deliver, as well as the cornbread muffins for the chili tasting. It was going to be a long day.

  Beulah’s chili was required to be made on site, and since the competition was at noon, she had to get to the “Chili Center” of the Festival early in order to get her spicy concoction simmering. According to the feisty senior citizen, chili just “ain’t no good if it don’t cook for at least four hours.” Chas had loaded the cooler full of her main ingredients into Missy’s car before he left to go help Echo, and Beulah would be bringing the “secret” ingredients, along with her spices and pots and pans to the site.

  Pouring coffee into a thermos to take with her, Missy said goodbye to her fur babies, Toffee, her gentle golden retriever, and Bitsy, her diva maltipoo, and headed for downtown. In addition to helping Beulah with whatever she needed, she’d told Echo that she’d help with taking care of Jasmine as well. She munched a cupcake in the car on the way, knowing she’d need a bit of a boost to get going this morning.

  Vendors were the only ones allowed into the festival at this hour, and Missy waved to local business people that she knew, on her way to the chili area. Once she entered the loading zone, she parked her car and went to find Beulah’s table, not surprised at all to find the elderly woman already there and ready to go.

  “Come on now, Miss Missy. I got my crockpot warmed up and ready to go, and my skillet seasoned. There are vegetables to be chopped and meat to be browned. I need to get this show moving,” Beulah tapped her foot impatiently.

  “Alright, alright,” Missy chuckled, putting her thermos down on the table. “I just wanted to find out where you were before I pulled the cooler inside. I’ll be right back.”

  She delivered the cooler to Beulah, not surprised in the least when the elderly woman shooed her away.

  “This is secret stuff, ma’am,” she waved Missy away. “You go on and help Miss Echo with that precious baby,” she insisted, grabbing a lethal-looking chef’s knife.

  “Okay, Beulah. I’ll be back to check on you later. Just text me if you need anything.”

  “I surely will,” she took a quick swig from her water bottle, cracked her knuckles, and started in on an onion.

  **

  “Oh pleas
e tell me that coffee is for me,” Echo breathed when Missy gave her a hug, thermos in hand.

  “Well of course it is,” Missy grinned.

  “Good, because I’ve been so busy this morning that I haven’t had a chance to make a pot. Chas has been a lifesaver.”

  “Where is Joyce?”

  “On her way. I asked her to stop at the bank to get extra change for the cash customers, and the bank wasn’t open, so she had to go to the ATM, then buy something at the grocery store so that they’d change some of her twenties for ones and fives. I should have thought of this stuff yesterday,” Echo sighed, shaking her head.

  “You had a couple of other things on your mind,” Missy reminded her gently.

  “Yes, and I’m trying not to think about that today,” Echo’s lip quivered a bit, so she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

  “Where’s Jazz?” Missy changed the subject to give Echo a minute.

  “Right there,” she smiled softly and looked over Missy’s shoulder.

  Missy turned and her heart melted when she saw her husband approaching with a very happy baby in his arms.

  “You’re a natural,” she commented as he came up and kissed her.

  “I hope so. I can’t wait to pick up Kaylee today,” Chas replied, making funny faces that sent Jasmine into a fit of the giggles.

  “I know, I’m excited to bring her to the festival,” Missy agreed. “Echo, honey, your display looks beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” her friend tried to smile, but nothing could erase the lines of weariness and worry from the corners of her mouth and eyes.

  “Jasmine and I are going to go check in on Beulah,” Chas kissed Missy’s cheek.

  “Running off with a younger woman, huh?” Missy teased.

  “Better get used to it,” he grinned, blue eyes sparkling.

  “I’ll catch up with y’all after Joyce gets here. Echo and I are going to take a coffee and cupcake break.

  “I’m so scared, Missy,” Echo whispered, lifting trembling hands to her throat. “I don’t know what I’ll do if…” she burst into tears, unable to complete her unthinkable sentence.

  Missy enveloped her in a hug. “I know darlin, but don’t you even worry about it. It’s going to be fine. Spencer is going to find your sweet Kel and bring him home to you,” she murmured against her best friend’s fiery curls. “It’s going to be okay,” she cooed, hoping against hope that it was true.

  She’d been worried too…people didn’t usually survive plane crashes, and since all communication from the small plane had abruptly ceased, it seemed as though it had indeed crashed, but she had to be strong for Echo. She had to help her friend through this storm. No matter what happened. They would wait together, and when they found out what had happened, they would either celebrate together, or mourn together.

  “I think I got snot on your shirt,” Echo hiccupped, pulling back and wiping her nose after her storm of tears had ebbed a bit.

  Missy laughed. “I’m sure by the end of today, there’ll be way more than snot on it,” she handed Echo a tissue. “You okay?”

  “No, but I will be…I think.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  After Joyce arrived at the festival, Missy and Chas gave Jasmine back to Echo and unloaded the boxes of cupcakes and cornbread muffins. The tasting for the chili cook-off wasn’t for a couple of hours, so the couple had a bit of down time where they could wander hand-in-hand among the businesses and vendors, sampling different foods, marveling over clever crafts, and indulging in the spectacle of talents that Calgon had to offer. They’d pick up Kaylee shortly after the chili cook-off was over and the winners had been announced.

  There were twenty contestants in this year’s competition, and once the judges were done with their testing, the entrants could sell bowls of chili to the public. There were so many creative varieties – the Chili Center smelled heavenly when Missy and Chas passed in front of each of the tables before taking a seat. Beulah had made a very traditional, spicy chili, and there were unique entries on either side of her. On her left was a mango habanero chili, and on her right was a bourbon barbeque chili, both of which looked and smelled amazing.

  “They done sissified theirs up,” Beulah sniffed, when Missy and Chas remarked upon the different flavors. “This is straight-up, clear-your-sinuses, cure-what-ails-ya, home cooked, hearty food that will stick to your ribs. Sometimes for days,” she nodded, as Missy and Chas burst into laughter. They wished her good luck and took their seats in the front row.

  The judges had already been served. Each sat with twenty tiny bowls and a plate of Missy’s sweet, palate-cleansing cornbread in front of them. There were ice-cold pitchers of milk on the judging stand, in case any of the chili recipes were too hot to handle, and each judge had twenty scorecards, where they would rank the contestants in several different categories. Miss Calgon County announced that the contest was beginning, and the judges began tasting. Each bowl had a number in front of it to identify it, so that the judges could give an impartial opinion. Only the contest moderator and the entrants knew each person’s number.

  Missy nervously nibbled a cornbread muffin while waiting for the judges to finish their tasting, hoping that Beulah would place in the top three and win a prize for her effort. It took a little over half an hour for all of the judges to get through all of their samples, then the cards were collected and tallied by the moderator, who plugged the results into the computer. While the results were being tabulated, Missy went up to talk to Beulah.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” she asked, patting the elderly woman’s arm.

  “I don’t know about all that. I’m just hoping that these folks can recognize good cooking when they taste it,” Beulah shrugged, making Missy laugh.

  “You are one cool cucumber,” she shook her head.

  Beulah opened her mouth to answer, but froze, as did everyone, when Judge #3 fell out of her chair, clearly in distress. Belle Fitzhugh writhed in pain, before going suddenly still. EMTs rushed to the judge and began CPR, while Miss Calgon County stood by, horrified at the spectacle. The nerdy moderator stepped up to the microphone amidst the chaos.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to ask you to please exit the Chili Center in an orderly fashion so that these fine paramedics have room to do their job. Please respect the privacy of Ms. Fitzhugh and just move along,” he told the crowd. “Contestants, please stay at your respective tables. Thank you.”

  “What’s happening down there?” Beulah craned her neck to see, but was blocked by the Judges’ Table.

  “I don’t know,” Missy shook her head, wide-eyed.

  Chas, a Homicide Consultant for the Calgon Police Department, had stepped in to lend an extra hand, and when he stood and looked up at his wife, he shook his head slowly.

  “Oh gosh,” Missy gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth in horror.

  “Did she…?” Beulah asked in a low voice.

  “I think so,” Missy whispered.

  Aside from Chas’s subtle gesture to his wife, no one knew what was going on, so it was a surprise to everyone when Homicide Detective, Art Solinsky, who had been Chas’s replacement when he’d left the force to open his PI agency, showed up and began barking orders.

  “Alright, anyone who isn’t participating in the contest, clear out right now,” Solinsky demanded, glaring at the few onlookers who had remained in their seats.

  When he saw Chas, his eyes narrowed. The chief of police had hired Chas as a consultant because of Solinsky’s glaring incompetence and had enlisted the private investigator to keep tabs on the bumbling detective so that there would be enough of a case against him to finally fire him. Solinsky didn’t play well with others under the best of circumstances. For Chas to try to work with him to solve homicides was an absolute nightmare.

  “Chas Beckett. Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re here in the middle of this mess?” Solinsky commented.

  “Good to see you too,” was
the dry reply.

  “Where’s the coroner?” Solinsky snapped at a uniformed officer who had just gotten to the scene, turning his back on his nemesis.

  “On his way,” the cop replied.

  Solinsky went over and stood looking down at the body of the woman who had just an hour earlier been smiling and eating chili.

  “Hmmph, that’s pretty gruesome,” he observed. “You talk to anybody yet, Beckett?” he called over to Chas.

  “No.”

  “Good. Just stay outta my way then,” Solinsky hitched up his polyester pants and headed for the contestants.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  “We got a stiff, Timmy,” Fiona McCamish, assistant to Timothy Eckels, who served as Calgon County Coroner as well as operating the only mortuary in town, called out, jotting down information on a yellow sticky note.

  “Don’t call me that,” Eckels mumbled, not looking up from the article on invisible suturing techniques for morticians that he was reading.

  “I’ll just warn you right now, the cop who called it in said that Solinsky is there and that you need to get there in a hurry.”

  Fiona loved her job and had an intense crush on her pasty, balding, thick-glasses-wearing boss. She’d begged him to hire her, and he’d told her she’d have to get a makeover so that she didn’t scare potential clients, hoping it would deter the edgy-looking young woman, but she was undaunted. Echo was Tim’s next door neighbor at the time, and she and Missy had taken young Fiona shopping, with shockingly lovely results. Now Tim’s assistant was still sharp as a tack and bold as brass, but she didn’t frighten away customers with a radical look.