Butterscotch Dream Killer

by Summer Prescott

  “Take care, Beulah,” Missy bit her lip.

  As soon as she shut the door behind Solinsky and Beulah, Missy dialed Chas, who picked up immediately. She told him the situation, and was relieved when he replied that he already knew about it and was headed to the police station to observe the interrogation.

  “Keep me posted,” Missy’s voice trembled as she hung up.

  First Kel’s plane disappeared, now Beulah had been taken to the police station in connection with a murder…Missy wondered what else could go wrong.

  Throwing herself into baking, as she often did when she was upset, Missy made several more batches of cupcakes in preparation for the shop opening for the day, and before she knew it, Echo arrived for their daily coffee and cupcakes meeting. Missy explained that Solinsky had come and spirited Beulah away with a cocky, nasty attitude, and for a while the best friends just sat in silence, sipping their coffee, numb from recent events that had battered them like waves against the sand.

  “Any word from the Swiss authorities?” Missy asked.

  Echo shook her head, and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug, as though drawing strength from its warmth. “No,” she said quietly. “Spencer has been outside cell range for several hours, so no one knows what’s happening. All I can do is wait at this point,” she swallowed hard.

  Missy said nothing, but reached over and grabbed Echo’s hand. She noticed that Echo hadn’t touched her cupcake, and it was one of her favorite kinds, Vegan Coconut Cream.

  “Sweetie, you have to eat something,” Missy urged. “Kel is going to need you to be strong when he gets back, and you can’t take care of that precious baby if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

  “I know,” Echo nodded, fat tears slipping down her cheeks and splatting on the fabric of Jasmine’s baby sling, which secured the child next to her mother’s rapidly beating heart.

  “Take a bite, darlin…just a small one. You need to eat,” Missy repeated tenderly.

  Echo picked up the cupcake, held it in her hand and stared at it for a moment, then took a small nibble from it.

  “That’s a good start. I’ll get the coffee pot so that we can have a warmup…” Missy began, only to be interrupted by her phone ringing.

  She took the call, and Echo, in her misery, stared into her coffee cup, her mind thousands of miles away. She was startled when Missy plopped back into the chair across from her, her face ashen.

  “What?” Echo demanded, clutching at Missy’s hand. “Is it Beulah? What happened?”

  Missy shook her head and burst into tears. “That was the case manager at the Children’s Home,” she sobbed.

  “Oh no,” Echo interrupted when Missy couldn’t speak. “You and Chas didn’t get custody?” tears sprang to her eyes, knowing how badly Missy and Chas had wanted to adopt sweet little Kaylee.

  “Worse,” Missy choked out. “Kaylee isn’t there…she’s been kidnapped.”

  “Kidnapped?” Echo whispered.

  She got out of her chair and clung to her friend, each crying bitter tears for their own personal heartache. Eventually, when their sobs turned to whimpers, Missy pulled away, wiping her face.

  “I don’t even know what to do,” she murmured. “I’m going to call Chas.”

  Echo shook her head sadly. “It never rains but it pours.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  * * *

  Beulah sat across the interrogation table from Detective Solinsky, arms crossed, glaring at him from behind her wire framed glasses.

  “I need your ingredient list for the chili that you made for the festival, as well as a list of where you purchased the ingredients and any receipts that you might have,” the detective demanded.

  “Ain’t nobody getting my secret recipe, no sir,” she shook her head, her mouth forming a stubborn line.

  “Do you understand that you may be facing murder charges?” Solinsky thundered, slamming his hand on the table.

  Beulah raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

  “I oughta let you think this through while you’re sitting in a holding cell,” the detective snarled.

  Beulah didn’t budge.

  “I’m going to weigh in on this,” Chas stepped forward, needing to defuse the situation.

  “The heck you are,” Solinsky stood, squaring up on the much taller investigator.

  “Art!” a stern voice called from the back of the room.

  No one had noticed the Chief of Police slipping in to observe the questioning.

  “I’d like to see you in my office,” he stared Solinsky down. “Beckett, do your best,” he advised, following Solinsky, who was madder than a hornet, out of the interrogation room.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Chas, but I ain’t giving up my secret recipe for nobody, no how,” Beulah said ruefully before he could even speak. “That recipe has been in my family for years and it’s won lots of cook-offs.”

  “Beulah, I can promise you that the recipe won’t be shared with anyone. We just need the ingredient list. You don’t have to tell us how to make the chili. It’s very important that we know where each ingredient came from. Can you just write down on this paper a list of all of the ingredients and where they came from?” he pushed a piece of blank paper and a pen toward her.

  “Most of it was spices and such that I already had in my kitchen.”

  “Good, that’ll help narrow it down a bit. Write the spices and things that came from your kitchen in a separate column.”

  “You’re sure no one is going to use this?” she squinted at him.

  “Positive,” Chas nodded.

  Beulah took the pen and quickly jotted down the list and where each thing had come from, then handed it to Chas, with a suspicious glance at the uniformed officers in the room. The investigator scanned the list quickly, then frowned.

  “This says that the tomatoes that you used came from your own kitchen. Did you grow them in a home garden?”

  Beulah leaned forward and kept her voice low. “I canned them myself, with tomatoes that I bought at the Farmer’s Market.”

  “When did you can them?”

  “Just a couple of months ago.”

  “Do you have any left?”

  “Of course I do. I didn’t use a bushel of tomatoes in one pot of chili,” Beulah blinked at him.

  “Beulah, under the circumstances, we’re going to have to search your house. Are you going to consent to that, or are we going to need a warrant?” Chas asked.

  “Search all you want, I ain’t got nothing to hide, Mr. Chas, but don’t you let that nasty Solinsky in my house,” she warned.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he promised. “Now, at the competition, was there ever a time where you left your table unattended?”

  Beulah nodded. “A couple of times, yes. I was drinking a lot of water, so there were some necessary times…” she trailed off and looked down, overcome with modesty.

  “How many bathroom visits would you say there were?”

  “I’d say three or four.”

  “Do you remember what times you took a break?” Chas probed, not wanting to embarrass her, but knowing that the information would be important.

  “No, I don’t remember. My mind was focused on the chili.”

  “Did you ever leave for any other reason?”

  “Yes, I asked one of the judges if there were any ladles. I could’ve sworn that I put mine in the bag to bring to the festival, but when I got there, it was nowhere to be found.”

  “And did they provide you with one?”

  “No sir, they did not,” Beulah pursed her lips. “That judge read me the riot act and I told her that I didn’t care for her ugliness.”

  “So where did you find a ladle?”

  “The woman next to me, who made the mango jalapeno chili had an extra.”

  “And which judge did you interact with?”

  Beulah looked down at the table again. “The one who…” she swallowed, not finishing her sentence.

  “T
he one who what?” Chas probed.

  “The one who died, Judge number three. After I told her I didn’t like her attitude, she yelled at me some more and then another judge came and told her to go sit down.”

  “Which judge told her to sit down?”

  “Number seven.”

  “Did judge number seven say anything to you after the other judge sat back down?”

  “She said that I shouldn’t worry about it affecting my chances because none of the judges knew what number each contestant had.”

  “So, aside from leaving to go to the bathroom, and trying to get a ladle, did you stay at your work table?”

  “Yes I did,” Beulah nodded. “My feet hurt something awful. I had to soak ‘em in the tub that night. Oh, and by the way, that nasty detective took my crockpot as evidence. Do you know when I might be getting it back?”

  “You probably won’t be getting it back, Beulah, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, been wanting a new one anyhow. I guess now I have an excuse,” she sighed.

  “Beulah, had you ever met Judge number three before the festival?”

  “No sir, I’m too new around here, I haven’t met hardly anybody,” she shrugged.

  “Beckett, a word please,” the Chief poked his head in the room.

  “I’ll be back in a bit, Beulah. Would you like a cup of coffee or some water?”

  “No thank you, Mr. Chas. I just want to go home.”

  “We’ll see what we can do about that,” Chas promised, following the chief out into the hall.

  “Solinsky is on administrative leave, pending further investigation,” the chief informed Chas.

  “Investigation?”

  “I’ll give you more details when I can, but for now, I have to ask a big favor. I know you’ve been more than generous in agreeing to consult for the department and babysit Solinsky for months now, and…”

  “You need an interim homicide detective,” Chas finished for him.

  “Exactly. We can give you a substantial raise, and it would just be until we find a suitable replacement, so…”

  Chas raised a hand to stop him. “No worries. I knew that this would probably happen whenever Solinsky got ousted. Missy and I have talked about it, and I can let my associate run the PI firm until you find a new detective. I’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

  “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that,” the chief shook his hand. “I really do appreciate it, Beckett.”

  “No problem, Chief.”

  Chas’s phone buzzed in his pocket just then and he pulled it out to look at it.

  “It’s a 911 text from Missy,” he murmured, already dialing.

  “Let me know if I can help,” the chief replied, heading back toward his office.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  * * *

  “Now, sweetie, I can assure you, Detective Sweeney will be doing the absolute best that he can to find Kaylee. There’s an Amber Alert out there, and he’ll be following up on every lead,” Chas tried his best to comfort his distraught wife.

  She hadn’t had any sleep since the little girl had disappeared, and, like Echo, she hadn’t been eating properly.

  “Why can’t you take the case?” she pleaded.

  “Because, with Solinsky out of commission, I have to handle the murder case,” he explained patiently, kissing Missy’s hand.

  “There must be something that we can do,” she worried. “Chas, I can’t just sit here and do nothing. It’s driving me crazy.”

  Her husband gathered her into his arms and held her tight.

  “I’m sad too, sweetie, but we have to let Sweeney do his job,” he murmured into her hair.

  “Can you help him?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve been on top of the case since it happened, and he keeps me updated regularly.”

  “That’s good,” she sniffled, miserable.

  “I have to go to the office, but why don’t you take the day off?” he suggested. “I’m sure Beulah could use a day off too, to put her house back together after our search.”

  “Maybe,” Missy sighed. “I guess I could go keep Echo company.”

  “That’s a great idea. You two can keep each other’s minds on positive things.”

  “We can try,” Missy mumbled, wiping her eyes.

  **

  “I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to take care of this,” Missy told Echo, as she paced back and forth in her living room.

  “I know the feeling,” Echo replied dully. She was weak with worry.

  “It’s gotta be Kaylee’s dad’s family,” Missy gritted her teeth.

  “Why would they take her? They only wanted her because of the stipend that they would get. If they kidnap her, they won’t get the stipend,” Echo pointed out reasonably.

  “Well, who else would take her from the Children’s Home?”

  “I have no idea. How did it even happen? Every time we’ve been there, there are always adults monitoring the kids. Do they have security cameras on site?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know any of the details and I don’t understand how this happened, and when I think about it, I just want to scream,” Missy agonized.

  “I understand completely. I’ve been at that point for the last couple of days,” Echo stared out the window, running her fingers through a sleeping Jasmine’s hair.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I’ve been going on and on about my sweet Kaylee, and here you are still so worried about Kel. I’m an awful friend,” Missy’s eyes filled with tears.

  “No, you’re not. I’d be losing my mind too if I thought my baby had been kidnapped. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to be digging up information on Kaylee’s father’s family, and then I’m going to find my baby,” Missy’s jaw was set.

  “You mean…you’re going to travel to wherever they are and just go confront them?” Echo’s eyes widened.

  “I haven’t figured that part out yet, but something along those lines, yes,” she nodded, determined.

  “I don’t think Chas will approve,” Echo cautioned her headstrong friend.

  “I’ll be back before he even knows I’m gone,” Missy murmured, already plotting out a course of action.

  **

  “How can you possibly hope to find Kaylee’s father’s family?” Echo peered over Missy’s shoulder while Jasmine scooted around her living room in a bouncy chair on wheels.

  “How hard can it be? Everyone can be found on the internet these days,” Missy’s eyes were glued to the screen as she clicked the mouse. “Kaylee’s father was named Billy Lyndhurst, and their house was right behind Beulah’s,” she narrated as she typed in the information. “So, if I put in William Lyndhurst on Pear Tree Road…yep, there he is.”

  “Oh wow, there’s the article that was in the paper the day after he and Kaylee’s mom were murdered,” Echo said softly.

  “And there’s his obituary,” Missy pointed triumphantly. “Let me click on that, and it should list the survivors on both sides of the family. We’ll get the names and towns of relatives that way.”

  “There it is,” Echo pointed to the screen, then read aloud. “Mr. Lyndhurst is survived by two brothers and a sister, James Lyndhurst of Perth, Australia, Kevin Lyndhurst of Madrissa, Arizona, and Julie Lyndhurst-Merriman of Farnberg, Arizona.

  Missy nodded. “The social worker said something about the family being in the southwest, and I seriously doubt that Billy’s brother from Australia would come to the states to kidnap his three-year-old niece, so that narrows it down to Kevin and Julie.”

  “I wonder if they live near each other,” Echo stared at the screen as Missy typed in the two places.

  “Within thirty miles, so that’s good.”

  “Why is that good?” Echo was puzzled.

  “Because then I don’t have to run all over the state, looking for my girl,” Missy tapped at the keyboard.

  “You’re serious about going to Arizona?”

&n
bsp; “Absolutely. I have to find out if they have her.”

  “And what if they do? It’s not like you can just go in and snatch her away from them,” Echo pointed out.

  “No, but I can call the police and have them rescue her. Once they discover that Billy’s family kidnapped her, there’s no way that they’ll award them custody.”

  Echo paused a moment, knowing that her question was going to hurt. “Have you ever considered for a moment that it might not be Billy’s family who kidnapped her?”

  “It’s them,” Missy shook her head stubbornly. “I just know it.”

  “Then let’s think about the fact that anyone who is unstable enough to abduct a child will most likely be dangerous. You could get hurt,” Echo argued reasonably.

  “Yes, I could. Which means that Kaylee also could, which is why I have to do this,” Missy’s chin jutted forward with determination.

  “That’s not necessarily true. They might not lay a finger on their own flesh and blood, but a trespasser who wants to take their flesh and blood away permanently…” Echo raised her eyebrows, giving Missy a look.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “What if she’s not there?”

  “Then I guess I’ll head to Australia,” Missy shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but it’s the best we’ve got.”

  “Is it? The Calgon Police Department has men working long hours trying to find her. They’re professionals. If they haven’t found her yet, what makes you think that you can?”

  “Because that little girl means the world to me and I won’t stop until she’s safe,” Missy’s lower lip trembled and Echo squeezed her shoulder.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  * * *

  Spencer had slept a solid six hours after building a substantial fire and soothing his hunger with a freeze-dried meal that he mixed with snow and warmed up in a collapsible pan. When he rose before dawn, he was glad to see and hear that the storm, which had howled and swirled at the opening of the cave, had subsided. It had dumped a significant amount of snow on top of the already-deep layer underneath, and Spencer hoped that his snow shoes wouldn’t sink in too deeply in the fine powder. There was plenty of snow that he could melt to drink, so he ate a protein bar while he turned snow into water, then drank the water and headed out into the pre-dawn darkness, his headlamp switched on high.