by Carol Durand
Chapter 5
Missy’s golden retriever, Toffee, greeted her with usual exuberance when she opened the front door to her cozy lemon-yellow and white Victorian, but immediately picked up on her mistress’s subdued mood and followed her from room to room as she put down her purse and keys, changed into walking clothes and gathered up the leash. Snapping the lead onto the loving animal’s collar, Missy walked her to the park and back in a daze, worried sick about Ben. She knew that Chas would call her as soon as he was done at the hotel, but the waiting seemed endless.
Mechanically, Missy prepared dinner, despite a profound lack of appetite. At this point, she was on automatic pilot, falling back into routine because her thought process was numbed with worry. Stirring a cup of gumbo around and around with her spoon, taking small tastes periodically as she stared into space, she waited for the phone to ring. Eventually, giving in and dumping the untasted portion back into her gumbo pot, she acknowledged that until she had some news, trying to eat was a waste of time and food.
Taking her phone with her, just in case, Missy ran a warm bath, hoping that it would calm her nerves and help her focus, and, although she knew that it was probably not a smart idea on an empty stomach, she poured a glass of mellow Merlot to sip while she bathed. Toffee curled up on a bath mat in the corner of the large bathroom, peering up at her best friend occasionally with concerned chocolate eyes. Finally, after exfoliating, moisturizing and dressing in a clean pair of yoga pants and a loose, comfy sweatshirt, Missy settled into the soft embrace of her overstuffed sofa, fully prepared to pretend to watch a movie, when the text tone on her phone pinged. Snatching it up from the arm of the couch, she saw that the message was from Chas, letting her know that he was on his way.
“So what did you find out?” she demanded, dragging the handsome detective across the threshold and into the kitchen.
He seated himself in the breakfast nook and shook his head, looking frustrated. “Not much at all, unfortunately,” he admitted grimly. “I looked at Ben’s vehicle, and we procured a warrant to get it opened up, but found nothing of significance. There was a discarded cupcake wrapper beside the car that we’re checking for prints and DNA, but, aside from that, our info is limited.”
“What about the poor man in the clown suit? Did you find anything on him?” Missy asked, wide-eyed as she refilled her wine glass. “Would you like some?” she asked holding up her glass.
“No, thanks, I have a feeling that this isn’t over yet this evening,” Chas said, refusing the wine. “We don’t have identification for the deceased yet, we’ll be cross-checking his description with missing persons reports. I know that this is going to upset you, sweetie,” he said, reaching for her hand, “but right now, with the significant lack of evidence that we’ve found, Ben is considered a person of interest in the murder.”
“What?” Missy exclaimed, horrified. “That boy is the kindest, sweetest soul that I know. There is no way in the world that he killed anyone! Do you even know how the man died?” she asked, taking her hand from his gentle grasp.
“Not yet, we’ll have to wait for the autopsy results. If you hear anything from Ben, please let me know right away. I’m as reluctant as you are to believe that he had anything to do with the victim’s death, but he’ll need to be questioned properly, regardless,” Beckett explained.
“Of course,” she nodded. “Chas, honestly, I’m just hoping that whoever did this didn’t hurt Ben too,” she confessed, tears springing to her eyes.
“And I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t think that it’s a possibility, but let’s not make assumptions. I’m going to do everything that I can to find Ben, and hopefully he’s safe and sound somewhere right now,” the detective said, trying to be optimistic. He stroked the back of Missy’s hand to reassure her, and his phone went off, startling them both. He glanced at the screen and picked up the call immediately. Missy could tell, by the brief questions that he asked, that he was speaking with someone regarding the case, but beyond that, the conversation wasn’t enlightening her at all.
“Where?” Chas asked the caller. “When?” he said, looking at his watch. “Right. I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” he said, and clicked the End button on his phone.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Missy asked, alarmed, as he stood quickly and headed for the front door.
“They found Ben, he’s alive and waiting for questioning down at the station,” Chas replied, his hand on the doorknob. “Stay here, and I’ll let you know what happens,” he directed in a tone meant to discourage further discussion.
“Absolutely not!” Missy insisted, sliding her feet into running shoes that were by the door and reaching for her coat. “I’m coming with you.”
Beckett whirled to face her, trying to keep the frustration from his voice. “Look, sweetie, I know that you love Ben, and that you just want to help, but it would be entirely inappropriate to have you present during questioning. I’m conducting an investigation here, and, as much as I’d like to include you, I have to play by the rules, okay?” he instructed. “I will keep you informed, and you know that I’ll make sure we leave no stone unturned in trying to find the actual murderer, right?”
Missy nodded miserably. “Can you at least give him a hug for me?” she asked plaintively.
“No, I can’t,” Chas replied. “But I’ll certainly let him know that you’re thinking of him, when I have a moment.”
“Thank you,” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before he left.
“You’re welcome,” the handsome detective kissed her back. “Get some sleep, sweetie, it’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter 6
Missy was shocked when Ben showed up at Crème de la Cupcake the next morning, ready to put in a full work day, as though nothing had happened.
“Ben, what are you doing here?” she exclaimed, wrapping him in a bear hug.
“Stocking the cases for opening,” he said, patting her back awkwardly.
Missy pulled back, holding him at arm’s length, examining his face to see if he looked any worse for the wear after what could’ve only been a tremendous ordeal for him. “Are you okay? Tell me what happened!” she said, frowning with concern.
“Umm…I will, but…” he began, hesitant.
“But what? What is it?” his boss interrupted.
“Well, it’s just that, we have this huge line out front and we need to get these people their cupcakes,” he explained, gesturing to the front of the store.
Missy stared at him with surprise and admiration. “Yes we do, don’t we?” she grinned. “Let’s get these folks taken care of, and then you’re going to sit down with me over coffee and cupcakes and tell me all about it.”
“Yes ma’am,” Ben said agreeably, heading for the front door to flip over the Open sign.
Missy’s curiosity clawed at her unbearably as she, Chris and Ben weathered the first massive wave of morning customers, and it seemed like an eternity until the line died down enough that they could finally entrust Chris with the running the front counter on his own. Grabbing a couple of the Cupcakes of the Day, she instructed Ben to pour two cups of coffee before joining her in the employee break room.
“Mmm…what are these?” Ben asked through a giant mouthful of cupcake.
“My new Orange Dream recipe. I used orange juice in the batter, filled them with vanilla cream cheese, and infused the icing with orange zest,” she answered impatiently. “Now, tell me what happened at the party!”
Still marveling over the cupcake, which tasted just like the orange and vanilla popsicles that he used to buy from the ice cream truck as a kid, Ben took a sip of coffee to wash down the huge bite before responding. “I had taken the big papier mache clown head off and put it on the table in the break room so that I could eat my cupcake and have some of the punch that I snagged before I left, and the next thing I knew, someone really strong had clamped an oddly sweet-smelling cloth over my mouth, and I passed out or something.”
“Oh my goodness, Ben, that’s awful! Did you see who did that to you?” Missy asked, on the edge of her seat.
Swallowing another bite of Orange Dream, the Dellville manager shook his head slowly. “I have no idea. It all happened so fast. He came out of nowhere.”
Missy frowned, thinking. “So, this happened right when you sat down? You didn’t have a chance to eat your cupcake?” she demanded.
“Nope, as far as I know, it’s still sitting on the table in the break room,” he shrugged. “Why?”
“Because Chas…er, Detective Beckett said that they found the empty cupcake paper dropped beside your car. So if you didn’t eat it, maybe the killer did,” she deduced. “And if that’s the case, hopefully they’ll get some idea as to his identity from it.”
“Wait…” Ben seemed suddenly alarmed. “Killer? What are you talking about?”
Missy raised her eyebrows in surprise. “They didn’t tell you? Oh my goodness,” she muttered, wondering if she had done something wrong by letting the cat out of the bag with Ben. Well, there was no hiding it now. “They found an unidentified man in the break room after you went missing. He was dead, and was wearing your clown costume.”
“That’s why they told me that they were holding the costume for evidence,” the young man mused. “Wait…they don’t think that I did it, do they?” he asked, horrified at the thought.
Missy’s face answered his question, and his shoulders sagged. “Where were you, Ben? What happened to you after you were drugged?”
He shrugged miserably. “I have no idea. All I know is that I woke up laying under a bush in a park in Smithville.”
“Smithville? That’s at least 40 miles from here! How did you end up there? And why?” she wondered, puzzled.
“That’s what I was wondering. I was still a little woozy from whatever was used to make me pass out, but I knew that something weird was going on, so I called 911 and the police came and picked me up. They dropped me off at the police station in LaChance and I spent the next few hours answering a bunch of questions that made no sense,” he recounted. “Makes sense now,” he sighed. “You know I could never hurt anyone, don’t you, Ms. G.?”
“Of course I know that, Ben,” she reassured the rattled young man. “But we need to think about who would’ve done this, and why. Do you have anyone who is mad at you?”
“Not that I know of,” he shook his head. “I do well in my classes, but not so well that I wreck the curve. Maybe some guy who has a crush on Cheryl found out that I proposed and freaked out?” he guessed, clutching at straws.
“Maybe,” Missy frowned. She leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Whatever happened, Ben, Chas will figure it out. The best thing that you can do is to just keep living your life one day at a time until the truth comes out.”
He nodded slowly, the reality of his situation hitting hard. “Do you mind if Chris closes up without me today?” he asked quietly. “I really just want to go talk to Cheryl and let her know what’s going on.”
“Of course, honey,” Missy agreed without hesitation. “She should be done closing up the LaChance shop by the time you drive over. Go ahead and go, Chris and I can manage closing here,” she stood.
“Thanks,” he said, head down, giving her a quick hug on his way out. Missy sadly watched him go, knowing exactly what it felt like to be mistakenly accused. She silently vowed to do whatever it took to exonerate the conscientious young man.
Chapter 7
“Any breaks?” Missy asked Detective Chas Beckett across the red and white oilcloth table at their favorite crawfish restaurant.
“Not really,” Chas sighed, digging his fork into the heaping pile of Etoufee on his plate.
Missy pulled the corner off of the most dense, moist cornbread in the county and popped it into her mouth. “I’m worried about Ben,” she confessed. “He’s taking this really hard. There are dark circles under his eyes that make me think that he hasn’t been sleeping, and I’d swear that he’s lost weight, poor boy,” she frowned.
“Well, as of right now, he’s the only person of interest in the case, unfortunately. We haven’t been able to identify the deceased yet, and the DNA from the cupcake wrapper is still at the lab, along with fiber evidence collected from the costume. We did have one of the cocktail servers from the adult party said that he seemed to recall a man in a tuxedo coming out of the break room just before the body was discovered, but the description that he gave was so vague that it could’ve been anyone,” Chas drained his glass of tea and their aging waitress came over with a refill, temporarily stalling the conversation.
“Chas, Ben didn’t do this,” Missy asserted after the waitress moved on.
“I believe that, sweetie, I really do,” he assured her. “I’m working as hard as I can to figure out who did it, so that Ben can move along with his life.”
Missy went to the LaChance shop after lunch to help Grayson, Cheryl’s pale skinned, dark-haired young assistant, pack up an order for a church social. When she came in the back entrance to the commercial kitchen, the sensitive youth pulled her immediately aside, his dark eyes wide.
“Ms. G.,” he said quietly, looking around as though making certain that he wasn’t being overheard. “I’m really worried about Cheryl. She has hardly said a word all day, and she keeps running back to the break room. One time, I stood outside the door and heard her crying. I don’t know what’s going on, but something is clearly wrong.”
“Okay, darlin, thanks for the heads up. Is it slow enough that you’ll be able to handle the front alone while I talk to her?” Missy asked.
Grayson nodded vehemently. “Yes, ma’am, whatever it takes. I’ll be fine. I just hope that Cheryl is okay.”
“I’m sure she will be. Why don’t you go ahead and head up front and send her back to talk to me, okay?” Missy directed.
“I will,” the youth assured her, disappearing through the entrance to the front of the shop, where Cheryl was restocking the cases.
Her sweet-natured and efficient manager appeared a few seconds after Grayson’s departure. “You wanted to see me, Ms. G.?”
“Cheryl, honey, what’s wrong?” Missy asked, foregoing meaningless greetings and pretense.
The young woman’s face crumpled into tears at Missy’s question, and she put her hands over her eyes, her defenses breaking down entirely. Pained at the sight of her suffering, Missy went to her, embracing the trembling girl. “Oh honey, what is it? You can tell me. I guarantee that whatever it is, you’ll feel better after talking about it,” she smoothed Cheryl’s hair, holding her while she cried. When her sobs turned to sniffles, Missy held her at arms length, forcing her to look at her and commanded gently, “Tell me.”
“Ben…” she began, her lower lip trembling and tears threatening anew.
“What about Ben?” Missy prompted gently.
“He…he broke off our engagement,” she dissolved into tears again.
“What?” Missy exclaimed, astonished. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“He said that he didn’t want me to have to go through life with someone who had been accused of murder,” Cheryl cried, distraught. “I know he didn’t do it, Ms. G., I don’t care what anyone says, but he said that small towns can be cruel when it comes to such things and he didn’t want me to have to go through that.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s just upset. You and I both know that he loves you very much, he’s just not thinking clearly at the moment, which is completely understandable after the ordeal that he went through,” she soothed. “Listen to me, sugar, you are the most important thing in that young man’s life. He needs you and he knows it, he’s just confused right now because he’s in a very scary situation. Give him some time, but don’t give up. He’ll come to his senses soon enough, okay?” Missy took a tissue out of the purse that she had set down on the counter and handed it to the sniffling young woman.
“It just really hurts to have him push me away, just when he
needs me most,” Cheryl confessed miserably.
“I know, honey,” Missy squeezed her arm supportively. “But right now, you’re going to have to be the strong one. Just be there for him. He’ll figure it out in his own time,” she hugged her again.
“I know, he’s a good man. I couldn’t ask for anyone better. Ms. G., would it be okay if Grayson handled closing by himself today…I’m not feeling very well.”
“Of course, sugar. You head on home, I’ll stay here and make sure that Grayson has backup if he needs it, don’t you worry. Have a bite to eat, get some rest, and things will look better in the morning,” she advised. “You call me if you need me, okay?”
“Yes ma’am, thanks,” Cheryl failed miserably in her attempt to smile.
Chapter 8
Missy’s heart was heavy as she drove home after helping Grayson close up her LaChance shop. Cheryl and Ben were two amazing human beings whose lives had been turned upside down, and she felt helpless to do anything about it. She also felt quite a bit of guilt, knowing that the only reason that Ben had been at the party in the first place is because she had called him to come in and save the day. So, in the process of lending a helping hand in order to make children smile and raise money for a local charity, the unfortunate young man had become a murder suspect.
Frustrated, Missy pulled into her drive, ready to go for a nice long run with Toffee to work off some of her anxiety. She typically pulled into the garage and entered the house from the back porch, but as she drove past the front of her home, she noticed what looked like a manila envelope stuck between the heavy mahogany front door and surrounding frame, so she left her little blue car in the driveway, and trotted up the porch steps to retrieve the parcel.