by Lin, Harper
After some mingling and pats on the backs, the finalists went home to prepare their recipes for tomorrow’s contest. All except Lena, who stayed and mingled with the rest. Sylvia told me that she had won the top prize two years in a row. She sure looked confident as she chatted with friends in the crowd. It was if she knew she had it in the bag.
I couldn’t take another bite of another cupcake for the day, so I worked the room, signing a few autographs here and there. It was fun to socialize a bit, since I hadn’t talked to anyone aside from my family for a while, unless you counted Aaron…and Sterling.
The sting of imagining Sandra on top of Sterling making out passionately was slowly lessening. Soon, I might even forget it altogether. I hoped.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Sunday judging had gone off without a hitch. The contestants came in and baked their cakes in the cooking classroom. We tried them and announced the winner. The news crew from Hartfield’s local TV channel was there to film the whole thing and broadcast snippets of the event in their evening news segment. I had to do a quick interview as well, talking briefly about my new album.
Unfortunately, another event would make it onto the news: Lena Mumson’s murder.
She was the winner, third year in a row.
After the contest ended at the school, Lena had received her prize, the news crew left and so did Aaron and everyone else.
It was already dark when we went outside. Once we reached the car, Mirabelle realized that she didn’t have her car keys in her purse. We thought that she’d dropped them somewhere, so we unlocked the school door and retraced our steps back to the cooking classroom. She found the keys on the ground. It was near the table where she’d placed her bag for the majority of the day.
We would’ve just home if I hadn’t wanted to pee so badly. I made a quick dash to the girl’s washroom. When I opened the door however, I noticed a trail of blood coming from one of the stalls.
“Hello?” I had called out. I was hoping it was period blood or something. But it wasn’t.
I should’ve turned away, but curiosity got the best of me. The door of the stall was not locked and I nudged it open with one foot.
Then I saw it:
A dead body. Lena. She’d been stabbed in the stomach and she sat limp, slumped beside the toilet.
I screamed.
“Emma?” Mirabelle called from the hallway. “What’s going on?”
She came in, but I pushed her out.
“You don’t want to see this!” I exclaimed.
“What is it?”
“Lena! She’s dead.”
I described what I saw and told her to call the police. I was too shaky to hold a phone in my hand, so Mirabelle did the dialling and talking.
We went back outside and sat in Mirabelle’s car as we waited for the police.
“I wonder if the killer’s still inside,” I muttered.
But it wasn’t as if I wanted to find out.
“How could this happen?” Mirabelle asked.
“And when?” I thought about it. “Everybody left in the last hour. Lena must’ve left only half an hour ago. Who would just kill her when there were probably still people around?”
“It must’ve been someone who really hated Lena. Maybe it was done only in the heat of the moment.”
“Right,” I said. “It was right after she won, so do you think it could be one of the other contestants?”
“Oh my gosh. It might. I mean, there’s no one else in the building except the news crew. And they had gone first. The school is locked. It couldn’t be the other two judges. They came out to the cars with us.
“It had to be one of the other contestants then. I don’t see why an outsider would come in and kill Lena in the high school washroom of all places. Someone must’ve been really sore about losing.”
“Now who would want the top prize bad enough?” asked Mirabelle.
“Or hate Lena that much.”
“Or resent losing one year’s worth of hot chocolate at my cafe,” Mirabelle joked. I was too horrified to laugh. “Come on. I’m trying to lighten you up.”
“You didn’t see the dead body,” I said. “It was absolutely disgusting. So much blood.”
I shivered.
Police car sirens sounded. I dreaded seeing Sterling. And Sandra. Sterling and Sandra together, recalling that scene where they were rubbing against each other at the office. But I took a deep breath. I was a strong woman. I could handle this.
Half a dozen policemen came out. Sterling was there, but Sandra wasn’t, luckily. I wondered where she was, but I didn’t ask. What did I care?
Sterling strode over to us in his casual clothes: a black wool coat, opened to reveal a grey sweater that matched his eyes. Why did he have to be so handsome?
“Good evening ladies,” he said without a smile. Instead he had that smothering look that I’d always found appealing. But no matter. If he wasn’t going to smile, I wasn’t going to smile back. I knew I was being petty. What was there to smile about? There was a dead body in the ladies room.
“Hi Sterling.” Mirabelle nodded at him just as coolly. I was glad to have my sister on my side, and literally by my side.
“What happened?”
I told Sterling about staying at the high school a bit later because we were looking for Mirabelle’s keys. And then my discovery of the body in washroom. The officer took down some notes and left. Sterling followed him to take a look at the scene.
Mirabelle and I were alone again. She wanted to go home, but something told me to stay. What if they found a clue or something? We could help solve the case.
“Oh, Emma. When I said to keep busy, I didn’t mean with another murder case. Haven’t you had enough?”
“Come on. They’re hopeless at solving these things. They take way too long. I could help. What if this killer strikes again?”
Mirabelle’s eyes grew wide. “No, don’t get mixed up in this. What if the killer comes after you?”
The sun had set, and it was deadly dark around the school. We looked around.
“We’ll be careful,” I said, then gulped.
Our house had a security alarm turned on at night. Ever since I came back into town and Mom and Dad realized that I wasn’t going anywhere after the holidays as expected, they got the alarm installed in case any crazy fans or reporters tried to sneak in. The town was generally free of paparazzo, but they have descended in the past when word got out that I was in Hartfield.
It must’ve been about forty minutes later that Sterling came back out.
“Well?” I stepped forward. “Did you find anything?”
Sterling looked impatient. I thought he was going to tell me to go home, but he revealed something.
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
Sterling held up a ziplock bag with a small gold hairpin.
“This was in Lena’s right hand.”
Mirabelle and I both gasped. We both knew who it belong to, and it wasn’t Lena.
CHAPTER SIX
Cherry Anderson was the youngest contestant in the top four. She was in her last year of high school, so she knew the premises well. The gold hairpin belonged to her because her corkscrew hair was so unruly that she used a million of those pins to secure them in place and keep the hair out of her face.
“We found another in Lena’s coat pocket,” Sterling said. “Maybe they had been fighting and the pins fell out from Cherry’s hair.”
“Did you find strands of Cherry’s hair in the bathroom?” I asked.
“We did find the hair as you described of Cherry’s” Sterling said. “Two stalls over, curly blonde hair. The washrooms were cleaned by a janitor this morning, although many people have probably been in and out of the bathroom from your crew. There’s nobody else with long curly hair, is there?”
“No, Cherry’s the only one,” I said. “But it could just mean that she has used the washroom recently.”
“Cherry? A murderer?” Mirabelle shook he
r head. “She’s one of the sweetest girls I know. Comes into my cafe all the time. She wouldn’t murder Lena.”
Cherry was very nice and smiled often. I remembered that she had been helpful to the other contestants as well, always lending them things, or offering to help if something went wrong. Maybe she thought it was only fair because she was familiar with cooking in those facilities because she went to Hartfield High.
Sterling’s expression remained grave. “It doesn’t look good. We’ll have to take her in.”
“There’s just no way,” Mirabelle said.
“The wound was pretty bad,” I said. “You think Cherry really had the strength to do that?”
Sterling shrugged. “Anything’s possible. Some people might look weak, but they’re not. You just never know with people.”
“Yes,” I agreed, locking eyes with Sterling. “You just never know with people, do you?”
Sterling turned away.
“We don’t have a weapon yet,” he said.
“The contestants brought their own tools,” Mirabelle said. “And after it was over, they packed up and took them home.”
“Which is why we’re going to go to Cherry Anderson’s house, and take her knives in for testing. She might not have washed all of it off yet. There might still be some of Lena’s DNA on there. Lena’s knives were in her bag, still packed and untouched.”
Mirabelle shook her head again. “Cherry,” she muttered. “No, I just don’t believe it.”
“It’s been a long day, ladies,” Sterling said. “Drive home safely. We’ll take it from here the rest of the night.”
Just then, another car pulled up. A red Corvette. It was Sandra.
She got out in her prim dark coat that matched Sterling’s. They should’ve been related, not dating.
“Come on, Emma, let’s go.” Mirabelle began unlocking the car.
“Oh, good evening,” Sandra said. “Emma, fancy seeing you here. But you’re always near a scene of a crime in Hartfield, aren’t you?” She chuckled. “It’s like that song of yours, Trouble Follows Me.”
“I didn’t know you were a fan,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Who said I was?” Sandra stepped out of her car in heeled boots. Who wore boots to a crime scene? Did she think she was in a movie?
“Whatever,” I said. “Good luck solving the case. You already have the wrong person, by the way.”
Sandra’s face fell, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even know what she was walking into. Having had the last word, I got in the car and Mirabelle drove off.
“Did you see her face?” Mirabelle laughed.
“I don’t know what compelled me to say it. Maybe Cherry did do it, I don’t know.”
Mirabelle shook her head again. “She couldn’t have, poor girl. I think you’re absolutely right.”
“So who did? One of the other contestants? There’s Larson and Demi. Do you know anything about them?”
“Hmm.” Mirabelle thought about it. “I do know that Demi and Lena had been hugely competitive in the past. In fact, they’re pretty much rivals. They used to be best friends in high school, but they grew a part when they started getting more competitive. Last I heard, Lena was still jealous of Demi. Demi had it all—three kids, a husband, a dog, while Lena is still single in her mid thirties with a cat. Maybe Demi couldn’t stand the fact that Lena was winning all these contests and going on fabulous vacations every year.”
“Seems plausible.” I said. “Although is Demi the killer type? She’s a soccer mom. Would she be really that mad that Lena won a bake-off?”
“Before the bake-off, Lena was known as the town’s best amateur baker. I mean, everyone would dive for her dessert stand whenever there’s fair.”
“Oh, is she the one who made those lemon meringue pies that Mom loves so much?”
Mirabelle nodded. “She’s the one.”
“So she would be peeved to lose her reputation by Lena. Plus they fought over the same boy in high school or something. Maybe there’s an even bigger grudge between them than we know.”
“It sure doesn’t sound good,” I said. “Okay, what about Larson?”
“Don’t know much about him. This is the first time that he has entered. He’s big into sports, so I was surprised when he did enter, and he wasn’t half bad either. That Oreo cupcake of his was killer, and his fudge cake? To die.”
“You might want to rethink your choice of words,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, sorry. Anyway, he used to date Lena for a few years but they’d broken up last year and now they’re both dating other people.”
“Well that sounds suspicious too,” I said. “I mean, an ex-lover winning the top prize. And taking a new man on a fabulous vacation to Hawaii? Did he go on the vacations the previous two years?”
“I don’t know,” Mirabelle said. “We don’t keep track once we give out the prizes. That’s what the travel agency does. We could ask them.”
“Great. Let’s ask them first thing tomorrow. Although, we have to make sure that Cherry is innocent. Are you sure she doesn’t have some sort of motive?”
“Let’s see…she did want a job at my cafe,” said Mirabelle. “But my staff was full. I told her I’d keep her in mind for the summer. She really wanted to be a baker. She was planning on going to culinary school, so she was quite ambitious. She told me she must’ve worked on two dozen recipes before developing and submitting the strawberry cupcakes. And she was also learning how to decorate cakes on her own. She wanted a part-time job so she could save up for college. I liked her and really wanted to help her.”
“Wow,” I said. “She does sound very determined. What if I was wrong? Maybe she did do it. She sounds like the competitive type. I’ll have to look more into her too.”
Mirabelle looked at me from the corner of her eye. “This is looking up to be a very busy week for you.”
“Certainly is,” I said. “And I’m supposed to plan this baby shower in the midst of this murder case.”
“I’m starting to think that you’re staying in town so you can solve these mysteries. You’re certainly not staying for Sterling, are you?”
“Oh, Mirabelle, I’m staying to spend more time with you!”
“Uh huh.”
“Plus, I think I deserve this break from the industry.”
Mirabelle parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine. She faced me to listen to me.
“I think I’m burned out,” I said. “Do I really want to be a famous singer forever? Just thinking about doing promotion for this third album is giving me anxiety.”
“I didn’t know that,” Mirabelle said softly. “I thought you were just going through some relationship trouble.”
“I thought so too, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer Rod’s calls about doing interviews. I think he’s cancelling a lot of things for me and getting into trouble. But I just can’t seem to face it. If I have to go on another talk show and make corny jokes, I swear…”