“I don’t think he knows that they’re helping us,” Peters said. “And I really don’t mind that they are. It’s like working on a great investigative team.”
"I'm glad you feel that way," said Ryan. "I wouldn't want you to feel like you're not a good partner because so far I am very happy working with you.”
“We should let you two get back to work,” Heather said.
“We’re going to look into this ruby some more,” said Ryan. “We haven’t been able to trace it to any stores in the area. But I’m confident that we could find out something useful about this gem.”
“And we’ll go question our last customer,” said Heather.
Amy frowned for a moment as a joke. “I don’t get to go look at pretty, shiny jewelry?”
A Smooth Customer
Their search for Vincent Valentino was a bit more difficult than their last searches because the delivery was not made to a residential address. Instead, it was made to a community center building. However, they were finally able to track him down.
Vincent Valentino was a handsome man for being near eighty. His hair was slicked back, and he had on a stylish suit jacket and a festive bowtie.
“What can I do for you, young ladies?” he asked as he invited them inside his home. It was small but was well-cared for, and seemed to perfectly fit his needs.
“Young?” Amy said. “I like him.”
Heather smiled and then said, “We’d like to talk to you about your cupcake order.”
Vincent nodded. “Sometimes I like to get snacks for the activities. Cupcakes are always a good option because they are quiet. If anyone chews too loudly during the bingo game, there would be a big scandal.” He chuckled.
“I guess you want to be able to hear the numbers,” Amy said.
"Recently, a woman had been trying to convince me to try donuts instead, but I haven't made the switch yet. Maybe I should. I used to order cupcakes for poker games, but some of the unscrupulous players were marking cards with the frosting," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Some donuts might have frosting too," said Amy. "Believe me. We know all about that."
“Do you know about donuts?” Vincent asked. “Tell me, have you ever been to a place called Donut Delights? The woman I spoke of before loves that place.”
“Believe it or not, I’m the owner,” said Heather.
“What a small world,” Vincent said. “Well, unless of course, you’ve come here to try and persuade me to make the switch to donuts.”
“I’m afraid not,” said Heather. “We’re looking into the murder of the Cupcake Cove’s owner, and are examining her recent orders.”
“I’d be happy to tell you everything I can about the order,” he said. “I ordered vanilla cupcakes for the senior center activities that day. There was a book club meeting, and I think that always calls for snacks. I know that some are provided at many activities, but sometimes I like to splurge on my friends.”
“When were the cupcakes delivered?” asked Heather.
“It was an early book club meeting,” he said. “They were delivered around eleven thirty, I think.”
“And it was Megan Baker who delivered them?” asked Amy.
“That’s the owner of the shop? Yes, I believe it was her,” he said.
Amy whispered to Heather, “I can’t believe this nice old man is a killer.”
“Forgive my asking,” Vincent said. “But based on your description of your jobs, I need to ask. Are you friends with Eva and Leila?”
“Great friends,” Heather nodded. “They’re like family to us.”
“Then it’s even nicer to meet you,” he said, shaking their hands again. “I’m so happy that such a fine woman has moved to Key West.”
“Wait a second,” Amy said. “Are you the gentleman suitor that was trying to woo Eva? They mentioned you.”
"Unfavorably, I'm sure. Because I have been trying to woo without success," he said. "I don't know how I could hope to win her heart. Eva is as sweet as honey and yet as strong as steel. I can't help to admire her. But she's thrown the key to my heart back in my face."
“You have a way with words,” Heather said, as a thought occurred to her. “You haven’t been writing them down and hiding them at Bernadette’s Beachy Books, have you?”
"Guilty as charged," he laughed. "Did Eva come across them? I thought since it was next door to her beloved donut shop, she might stop inside and look for a book. She's normally a part of the book club, so I know she likes to read. But she missed the last meeting."
“I’m afraid it wasn’t Eva who found the poems,” Heather said. “It was Bernadette.”
"Oh," Vincent said. "I hope I didn't mislead her in any way. I meant them to be for Eva."
“She’s fine,” Heather assured him. “She knew that they were for someone else.”
Amy laughed. “I just got it. When you described her as “so blue,” you weren’t talking about the emotion. You were talking about her blue hair.”
“I thought that was a clever touch,” he smiled.
“But even if she figured out that the poems might be for her, how was she supposed to know who wrote the poems?” asked Amy.
“I hoped she would know it was me because she knows how strongly I care,” he said. “And if she didn’t realize it that way, I also hid my name in the poems.”
“You did?” asked Heather.
Vincent nodded. “If you take the first letter of every line, it spells out my name.”
Amy repeated the part of the poem that she had memorized, “Violets bloom where they had died long before. I’d give you the key to my heart if you but open the door. Hey, I guess that is V and I.”
“And it continues NCENT,” he said. “Maybe I was too clever for my own good.”
“No,” Heather assured him. “It was the perfect poetical move. We should have caught it, but I think we’ve been distracted.”
“I’ve been distracted too,” said Vincent. “But maybe you could help me.”
“How?” asked Amy.
“Eva doesn’t trust my honorable intentions,” he said.
“She did mention that she thought you were a playboy,” Amy admitted.
“I may be friendly with many people,” he said. “But I never speak of love unless it’s true. Is there any way I can convince her of this?”
“I’m not sure,” Heather said. “Eva can be very stubborn when she wants to be.”
“That’s one of the qualities I find so admirable,” he said. “Even if it is currently working against me.”
“She’s told us that she wants nothing to do with romance right,” said Heather. “And did just have a major life change. She just moved across the country. I’m afraid I don’t see her warming to the idea of romance anytime soon. But.”
Vincent's crestfallen face lit up as she said: "but."
“There’s always a but,” Amy said.
“But I think she could use another friend,” said Heather.
Amy nodded. “If you chill it with all the talk of love and soulmates, you’ll have a great new friend. After you spend more time together, maybe romantic feelings will bloom. And if not, at least you’ve still gotten to spend more time with an awesome lady.”
"I can do that," Vincent said. "I'd just like to have her in my life. If being her friend is the way it will have to be, well, that's what it will be. Though I can't promise, I won't keep writing poems."
They thanked him for his help, and Amy grinned at her partner.
“Well, that’s one case solved.”
Recipe Realization
Heather sat at her kitchen table and stared at the invoices and recipe book. Amy stared at the plate of Mulled Cider Donuts.
“All right. I’m taking one,” Amy said.
"I don't want a donut until I can figure this out," Heather said. "I know that I'm missing something. The amount of flour is different in each recipe, and it's written in larger print."
“Are you sure yo
u don’t want a donut?” Amy asked, letting the smell waft under her nose. Heather relented and took a donut.
“Look at these invoices,” she said after finishing her donut in a quick few bites. “The deliveries that were made after six o’clock were all for large orders. They started with Mr. Kilroy, and then included Vanessa Blanc and the tech guy.”
“And these were all the orders that have repeat recipes?” Amy asked.
Heather nodded. “You can see which one they picked based on how it is listed on the invoice. Twenty-four red velvet. Forty-eight pistachio.”
“I don’t know,” said Amy. “I don’t know why the recipes repeat and why it matters.”
“I’ve been thinking about Vincent’s poems,” Heather said. “His name was hidden in those poems. I wonder if something is hidden in here too. Some sort of code that Megan Baker wanted to keep track of, but didn’t want others to understand and so she hid it in something you’d expect to find in the kitchen.”
“A recipe book,” said Amy. “Containing secrets recipes. Only they’re so secret that we don’t know how to figure it out.”
They thought on it for a while longer and then Heather got a phone call from Ryan.
“Shepherd,” she said, answering it.
“I wanted to let you know that we’ve been looking into the ruby that was found at Megan Baker’s shop,” he began. “We’re starting to think that it was stolen.”
“Stolen?”
“That would account for why we couldn’t find any record of it being sold nearby,” said Ryan. “We’re trying to track down its rightful owner. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
"Thanks," said Heather. "And I'll let you know if we have any breakthroughs about the recipe book."
They said goodbye, and she relayed the information to Amy.
“So, there is no other man?” said Amy. “There’s just stolen jewels. Or a stolen jewel.”
“Looks that way,” said Heather.
They wracked their brains trying to find a connection and couldn’t seem to. Finally, Amy said, “I give up. I don’t know who the killer is. I want to go back to focusing on poetry.”
“You hated focusing on the poetry,” said Heather.
"Then," said Amy. "But now I keep thinking – rubies are red, and sapphires blue. Sugar is sweet, and I bid this case adieu."
“You might be on to something,” Heather said, excitedly.
“Giving up on the case?” asked Amy. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d hear you say that.”
“No. Not that. The rubies and sapphires.”
“I’m not following,” Amy admitted.
“I think I might have cracked part of the code,” Heather said. “What color is a ruby?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No.”
“Rubies are red,” said Amy.
“Like the Red Velvet Cupcakes,” said Heather. “What color are emeralds?”
“Green.”
“Like the Pistachio Cupcakes,” said Heather. “And the sapphires?”
“Blue,” said Amy. “Like the Blueberry Cream Cupcakes.”
“All the repeating recipes,” said Heather. “I think that the code inside these recipes relates to precious stones.”
“Because the ruby was stolen?” asked Amy.
“Who is to say that the ruby was the only jewel to ever be in her kitchen? That’s probably what she kept in the locked cabinet,” said Heather.
"So, you expect she was involved in some sort of jewel smuggling ring?" asked Amy.
"And she kept track of what type of gems and what quality they were in code by referring to different cupcake recipes," Heather said.
"I'm glad our kitchen isn't this crazy," Amy said.
“I think it makes sense,” said Heather. “Megan Baker was the middleman.”
“Middleperson,” Amy suggested.
“She would receive the stolen jewels and then would deliver them to the buyers inside her cupcakes. That’s why her business seemed to be doing so well recently. She was selling precious stones along with her cakes,” Heather said. “We need Ryan to see if he can find out who she was receiving the stones from.”
“Wait a second,” said Amy. “We might have uncovered a jewel smuggling operation, but we still haven’t figured out who the killer is. Have we?”
“I might have an idea,” said Heather.
“Was it the person she was getting the stones from?” asked Amy.
“No,” said Heather. “I think her death might have stemmed from the change in deliveries.”
“Because she used a car?”
“Yes,” said Heather. “Well, in a way.”
“Whenever you feel like telling me, go right ahead,” said Amy.
"I'm happy to tell you," said Heather. "But the difficult part is going to be proving it. I think we'll need a search warrant. Maybe two."
Jewels to Kill For
“Are we too late?” Amy asked.
“I hope not,” Heather said.
She and Amy followed Ryan as he walked up to the door and knocked. Curt Kilroy answered.
“I’m getting ready for my business trip. I really don’t have time to chat,” he said.
“You might want to make time,” Ryan said. “I have a warrant to search your house.”
“To search my house for what?” Mr. Kilroy asked.
“Stolen jewels,” Ryan said.
He entered the house and began his search. Curt Kilroy stood in the doorway, sputtering. He gave Heather and Amy on his porch a dirty look.
“How could you believe that I would have stolen merchandise? I’m a respectable businessman. I have enough money to get whatever I want. I don’t need to steal jewels,” Mr. Kilroy said. “Do you really think I am a thief.”
“I think you’re a murderer,” Heather replied.
“That’s ridiculous,” Mr. Kilroy said. He put in a laugh for good measure.
“Is it?” asked Heather. “We know that you were receiving stolen jewels in the cupcake boxes. We've tracked down where the jewels came from, and it's only a matter of time until everything unravels."
“You’re bluffing,” he said. “You can’t know that.”
“It got the detectives a warrant,” said Heather.
“Even if you could prove that I got some jewels, you couldn’t prove that I knew they were stolen.”
“Because receiving jewels in cupcakes sounds totally legit,” Amy said, rolling her eyes.
“And even if you could prove the theft, there’s no way that you could link it to murder,” Curt Kilroy said.
"Once I realized what Megan was doing with the jewels, I realized how important the delivery was. You didn't want the cupcakes to sit on your porch and have a chance of being stolen because the box contained precious gems," Heather said. "But you thought that you were the only one getting the gems."
“Because when Jay Jeffries delivered the cupcakes on his bike, he would only carry one box at a time,” Amy said.
“However, when Megan Baker was the one making the deliveries in her car, she was able to fit all the boxes in and move from drop-off to drop-off. You were the first one that she delivered to, and so you saw all the other boxes. Suddenly, you realized that she was sitting on a small fortune that wasn’t all going to you,” Heather continued.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Mr. Kilroy said.
“You decided you wanted all the jewels to yourself,” Heather said, ignoring his insult.
"Even if I did all this as you said, it makes no sense for me to kill Megan. Why would I commit murder?"
“You weren’t planning on it,” Heather said. “You didn’t go to Cupcake Cove to kill Megan. You went there to rob her.”
Curt Kilroy crossed his arm and looked at them as if they were muttering gibberish.
"You didn't know that she would be there," said Heather. "Her friends and employees knew that she liked to go to work early and start baking."
“Probably to make th
ose jewel-flavored cupcakes. She didn’t want her employees to know about those special orders,” Amy added.
“But you didn’t know she would be there. You knew it was before the time that the shop opened, and you thought it would be safe to break in and take the jewels,” said Heather.
“But once you were inside, you didn’t let her being there stop you from getting your pay off,” said Amy.
“You stabbed her, took her key, and grabbed the stones from her locked cabinet,” said Heather. “But you dropped one, and that led us down the right trail.”
“This has been a very interesting theory,” Mr. Kilroy said. “Unfortunately, you’re not going to find any stolen property in my house. And you won’t be able to prove that I had anything to do with the stolen jewels or with the murder.”
Ryan emerged from the house, shaking his head.
"Didn't find anything?" Mr. Kilroy asked. "What a shame."
“He must have gotten rid of the shoes that he used when he broke in and killed her,” Ryan said.
“I’m sorry that you were mistaken about what happened,” Mr. Kilroy said. “But I knew you wouldn’t be able to find anything in my house.”
Heather, Amy, and Ryan exchanged looks.
Then, Ryan’s phone rang. He smiled as he finished the call.
“That was my partner,” he said, as he put his phone away. “A smart young man. He's going to go far."
“And he’s starting off on a good note?” Amy asked.
“A great one,” said Ryan. “He intercepted your luggage.”
This time Curt Kilroy didn’t say anything. The color drained from his face.
“You were right that I wouldn’t find any stolen property in your house, but that’s because you sent it on ahead of you. We found the jewels. They were in your luggage,” Ryan said.
After that, he promptly started reading Curt Kilroy his rights and brought him to the station.
Heather and Amy had their own transportation and started heading home together. They got into Heather’s red Chevy Spark and started moving. She was glad that this case was finally over. However, there was a silver lining to the tricky case.
Mulled Cider & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 8 Page 6