Candy Corruption

by C A Phipps

  Violet shook her head. “The groom still has a face like a prune.”

  “Stop it,” Scarlett warned her.

  “There’s only us here,” Violet protested.

  Scarlett nodded at the chef, who was stacking pots and pans for the kitchen staff to deal with. He didn’t react but was definitely close enough to hear.

  “Fine.” Violet took a laden tray through to the tent, and Scarlett followed with the last of the desserts.

  The bride approached as she handed her tray to the wait staff.

  “Have you seen Chad?” Lexie’s voice was soft yet urgent.

  “No, sorry. We’ve been in the kitchen most of the time.”

  “Of course, you have.” Lexie looked frantically around the tent.

  “You look so lovely. This dress is stunning, and the day’s been perfect.”

  “Thank you,” the bride spoke absently.

  “Is everything okay? Can I help with something?”

  Lexie hesitated, then smiled. “It’s time to cut the cake. I’ve sent the bridesmaids and groomsmen to look for Chad, with no luck so far.”

  “Perhaps the washroom?” Scarlett suggested.

  “Sam already checked them out.”

  “Violet and I could help look? We’ve done all we can for now. Maybe no-ones looked on the beach?”

  Lexie nodded enthusiastically. “Would you mind? That would be so kind. Once the cake is cut, we can get onto the dancing. Then we can leave for our honeymoon.”

  A certain tightness around Lexie’s mouth had Scarlett rethinking that she was oblivious to the groom’s behavior. With little experience of weddings, it did seem bad-mannered of Chad to leave his new bride waiting for him, and no doubt having to make excuses for his disappearance.

  Pre-order your copy of Mocha Mayhem here!

  Apple Pie and Arsenic

  Have you read the Maple Lane Mysteries yet?

  Madeline Flynn came home to Maple Falls to look after her beloved Gran. It looks like it was all a ploy, yet the chance to own her own bakery is too much to walk away from.

  Excerpt:

  Maddie could smell the pie from where she was standing, and Bernie had a hopeful glint in his eyes. Once you’d tried Gran’s baking, nothing ever tasted as good. People came from miles away, paying her to make birthday cakes and delicious baked treats, and had done so for years. More often than not, she took less money than she should, and it was agreed by all her customers that whatever treat she made and whatever she charged was certainly worth it.

  Bernie opened the back of his van and carefully pulled out a large cage and set it on the grass beside the driveway. Once he’d taken her bag to the porch, Maddie gave him his fare and added a hefty tip for his trouble. Not everyone wanted a cat like hers in their vehicle, but Bernie never raised an eyebrow, and he always did the lifting, which was a marked difference from New York City cabbies.

  “Just you wait a minute,” Gran said to Bernie.

  He grinned in anticipation. No-one went away from here without something to eat.

  Then she gave Maddie a hug. They hugged hard, the way Maddie had been taught. The Flynn mantra was “Hug someone like you mean it, or don’t bother.”

  She savored the smell of apples and cinnamon, which was Gran’s brand of perfume. One that couldn’t be bought. One that meant love and home.

  Gran smiled, a little misty-eyed, when they let go and went inside to fix a plate for Bernie.

  Big Red yawned as Maddie opened his cage, then jumped out onto the grass as gracefully as he was able. “I’ll be inside,” she told him, giving his arched back the expected scratch.

  The big Maine Coon gave her a disgruntled look, stretched, and with a flick of his tail sashayed over to the shade of the maple tree that dominated the front yard.

  Poor boy. She could appreciate that his trip had been a great deal less comfortable than hers. Even with the air conditioning on, the taxi had been hot, and what the plane had been like for him, she hated to think. He wasn’t a cage kind of animal, and he would only get into it with great reluctance and many treats.

  For such a short visit, she would ordinarily leave Big Red with her roommate, but she was currently without one thanks to a monumental argument. Apparently, Maddie shouldn’t be upset over said roomie and Maddie’s boyfriend enjoying more than friendship while she was away at a baking contest. Dalton’s agreement that she was overreacting still reverberated in her head, and if she was truthful, she was glad to escape the drama.

  The kennels had let her know last time that Big Red wasn’t welcome back—something to do with asserting his authority overzealously with his peers.

  Trying to make the proverbial lemonade with this bunch of lemons had drained her well of optimism.

  Gran came out with the covered plate and handed it to Bernie who looked as excited as a child at Christmas. “I’ll expect that plate back next time you’re passing,” she said.

  “Much appreciated and I will.” He touched his cap and carried it carefully back to his car as if he held precious gems.

  “Welcome home,” Gran called out to Big Red. She gave a wry smile as Maddie joined her on the porch. “He looks cross. I guess he’ll come in when he’s ready.”

  “You know him so well.” Maddie grinned. “Now, tell me how you really are. I’ve been so worried since your call. I’m sorry it’s taken a couple of weeks to get here.”

  Gran waved her apron at the fuss. “I’m doing great, and I’d have been pleased to see you any time you could make it. I certainly didn’t expect you to be on the next plane.”

  Maddie had thought Gran might resist her help when she’d called to say she was on her way home. When no resistance was forthcoming, she’d assumed the worst. “I’m so glad you’re doing a lot better than I was anticipating.”

  “Goodness, did I give the impression I was on death’s door?” Gran chuckled. “The bronchitis was bad, but the cough’s nearly gone. Although, I do admit that the packing seems to have made me a little maudlin.”

  Maddie put an arm around her as they walked through to the kitchen, leaving her bag for later. “It’s only natural. This is your home, and you’ve lived here all your life.”

  Gran squeezed her waist. “Like you.”

  They were the same height of 5’7” and had similar builds. When Maddie looked at pictures of her childhood and compared them to Gran’s, they looked so alike that they could have been sisters. For a child without parents, that was a big deal.

  “Yes, that’s true, but I’ve also lived other places now. Not that I won’t shed a tear or two when you sell, but I’m sure it won’t be as painful for me as it will be for you.”

  “That you understand means a great deal to me, sweetheart. I sure hope you don’t mind using your vacation time to help me out. I hate to be a bother.”

  “Pssssh! You could never be a bother, so don’t give it a thought. Where else would I take a vacation? Plus, I wouldn’t have let you do this by yourself. Real estate agents can be hard to deal with, and you’ll want to get a good price.”

  “I know you don’t take nearly enough vacation time, but I’m grateful you’re here now. The thought of tackling this on my own was pretty terrifying,” Gran sniffed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your granddad took care of the big things. Tea?”

  They might occasionally talk about being upset, but being staunch was also a major factor in their DNA. They were tough, and they liked it that way.

  Gran’s daughter, aka Maddie’s mom, had been a handful, according to Gran. Ava Flynn broke both their hearts when she left, even though they’d tried every way they could think of to show her they loved her. It had gnawed at the young Maddie, and she knew it had affected Gran because she would sometimes catch her staring at a photo of Granddad and Mom.

  Fifteen years later, Maddie’s mother was still missed, but they had moved on from being sad, and tea was still the magic potion for everything. Being an Anglophile, anything English was close to Gran’s hea
rt, but tea was her main legacy from her parents. Born and raised in Liverpool, they had emigrated to America when Gran was a teenager, but she’d never forgotten her roots.

  Her kitchen had shelves filled with an assortment of bric-a-brac that all in some way represented England. Single sets of matching cups and saucers with side plates, tea canisters with pictures of the royal family adorning them, and many teapots in a similar vein were lovingly dusted on a regular basis.

  “I’d love a cup,” Maddie said. “In fact, I need one. The traffic was horrible until we got past Portland. I hope one day they build an airport in Oregon closer to Maple Falls that’s big enough to handle passenger planes.” The one in Destiny was for light planes and helicopters, all privately owned.

  Gran carefully took two cups and saucers from the shelf, along with side plates, while Maddie filled the kettle. It was an old relic passed down by Gran’s mother, who had died long before Maddie was born and had instilled in her daughter the art of tea-making. Each set of cups and saucers was different and often had not been purchased together.

  Over time, Gran had accumulated more than a dozen sets. If a person came for tea more than a couple of times, a particular set became theirs. Maddie always used the one with a pink rose, while Gran’s favorite had lilacs.

  “I haven’t been to Portland since you were last home. Actually, it doesn’t interest me to go far these days.”

  Maddie was plugging in the electric kettle that was as important as the best brand of tea that Gran insisted on using. She turned quickly. “You’d tell me if you were still unwell, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I would. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve always loved your weekly jaunts to anywhere the buses or trains would take you, and you’ve said more than once that you’d have to be taken out of this house in a coffin to get you to leave.”

  Gran laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I? But things change, and I have to be realistic. I’m no longer a spring chicken. I’m also thinking about handing over the leadership of the community group to some younger blood.”

  “What? No way. Those ladies depend on you to liven things up around here.” The club had been founded by Gran and a couple of her best friends, and they were forever searching for places to go and speakers who loved interesting things.

  “That’s the thing,” Gran said. “They need to change it up. This is the twenty-first century, for goodness’ sake. There must be other things to do that I’ve never heard of.”

  Maddie snorted at the idea of that group of women “changing things up”. They were the happiest bunch of older men and women, doing what they loved, but perhaps not all as open to change as Gran.

  Still, the club had played a big part in Gran’s life, especially after Maddie left. Since Gran had never learned to drive, a bus or taxi was the only way for her to get around unless someone offered her a ride to Destiny. Every month, she organized the community group jaunt to somewhere as a day trip, as well as their speakers. It was a shock for Maddie to hear her giving up on it. Who would take that task on now?

  Gran liked to be busy, and she also walked for miles. At least, she always had. She looked so healthy and fit, Maddie had a hard time thinking of her as either old or sickly.

  “It’s been good for me to be the president for so long, and it was something to keep me busy while you were away, but I’m over it,” Gran continued. “I’ve been everywhere several dozen times, and now I can honestly say that staying around home is far more appealing.”

  “Except you’re moving.”

  “That’s true, but a home is whom you fill it with, not wood and nails.”

  Maddie’s eyes prickled with tears, and she felt a distinct twinge of regret at the idea of someone else living here. Still, this was Gran’s decision, not hers. She sucked up her sadness and smiled as she warmed the teapot and added English Breakfast tea leaves, their favorite, then filled it with boiling water.

  “It’s so nice to be back in Maple Falls and out of the rat race, but I only have a week, which means we need to get on to finding you a new place, pronto.”

  They sat at the old oak table, which had been scrubbed so often that it was now much paler than it had started out. Gran pushed a pile of brochures and papers at Maddie, as well as a large slice of pie. It was still warm, and Maddie took a forkful, then closed her eyes.

  “Mmmm. I’ve missed your baking.”

  “I’m sure that after all that training in a French patisserie, yours is just as good, if not better.”

  Maddie tilted her head, savoring the pie. “Not quite. But it’s getting close.”

  Honesty had been a strong part of growing up with Gran, who couldn’t abide lies, so there was no point in false modesty. But how could you compare your own food with that of the woman whose recipes were loved by so many, and from whom you had begun to learn your craft? Gran had founded and fueled Maddie’s passion for baking, a passion that had never waned.

  She took another bite of pie. Yep, this was heaven on a plate. Gran was sitting across from her, patiently waiting for a decent pause, or for her to finish, whichever came first. Reluctantly, she put down her fork and spread out the brochures. Selling the family home was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it easier. These walls held so many memories—most of them happy.

  Her heart sank at the sight of so many places to view. “Do you want to see all of these?”

  “I’ve circled a few that may be of interest, but I wanted to discuss another option.”

  Maddie knew that tone. Gran could be very persuasive in general, but when she adopted that tone, you could bet something you weren’t ready for was about to hit you squarely in the face and would probably stick like strawberry jam.

  She took a few sips of the strong brew then a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready. Tell me what you’re up to.”

  Gran grimaced. “You’re being a little dramatic, and it’s not like I’d force anything on you.”

  She completely ignored Maddie’s open mouth at the unfamiliar censure and tapped the top brochure.

  “Here’s the retirement community Angel took me to visit. It’s quite nice, but they have a ‘no overnight guests’ policy, meaning you couldn’t stay with me. I don’t like that idea one bit.” She turned it over and replaced it with several more. “There are these.”

  She flicked each one by Maddie’s nose. Very fast. Maddie waited for the bomb to drop, and fortunately she only had to suffer the blur of papers for another few seconds.

  “Then there’s this. Now, I know you have your own plans, but please don’t say no right away. Read it, go see it, then decide. Okay?”

  Gran had begun to look jittery as she waved the paper in front of Maddie.

  “Good gravy. How bad can this be? My nerves are turning to custard.”

  The slightly wrinkled chin lifted defiantly. “It’s not bad at all. In fact, it’s a wonderful opportunity if you can see the potential like I do.”

  Maddie pulled the paper from her hand so quickly that a small corner of it remained in Gran’s fingertips. The front of the brochure was graced with a picture of a familiar block of four stores. A red rectangle was around one of them—the one Maddie noticed looked unkempt. At the end of the block, it not only sat on the main street of Maple Lane but backed onto Plum Place. Just up the road.

  “I don’t understand. You’ve decided to sell the house because it’s too much. Why would you want a shop?”

  Gran’s eyebrows shot up. “For a bakery, of course. If I buy the shop, that one there”—she pointed at the red one— “it comes with a two-bedroom apartment upstairs, and since they all back onto our road, they have small yards of their own. It’s a bit tired, but we’ve redecorated this house, so I know we can do the same to the shop and the apartment to make it just as lovely.”

  Maddie shut her gaping mouth with a snap. “You’re not making sense. You can’t manage a shop!”

  Gran looked astounded, as if Maddie had stupidly missed the p
oint. But what, exactly, was the point?

  “No, I couldn’t, but you could.”

  “Me?” Maddie was as confused as confectioners’ sugar pretending to be frosting.

  “For goodness’ sake. I’m not speaking a foreign language. Isn’t that your dream? To open your own bakery?”

  Still feeling as if she were in an alternate universe, Maddie nodded. “Sure, but not here.”

  Gran sniffed. “Why not? I’d have thought Maple Lane was a perfect location.”

  Maddie had no idea what had brought on this weird conversation, but she wasn’t liking where it was going. “It would be if I didn’t plan on opening a bakery in New York City someday soon.”

  “It would be much cheaper to open one here.”

  Maddie tried to keep the frustration out of her voice. “That’s true, but I don’t have the money yet to buy a shop outright.”

  “Don’t get prickly. I appreciate all of that. First, the owner is desperate to sell, so it’s going for a song. Second, what if I put money in? I have savings. Or I could buy the whole thing outright with the sale from this place, and you could pay me back when you can.”

  Maddie was stunned for a moment. “No, Gran, I’m not taking your money. You’ve done so much for me already.”

  “I’ve done what family does when they love each other, nothing more. Anyway, you know everything I have will come to you when I’m pushing up daisies.”

  Maddie knew Gran wanted her back home, but this talk of not being around was scary, and it made her think once more that Gran might be sick and not telling her.

  “You’re not putting all your money into something that has no guarantee of success. I’ll come home if you need me, but I’m not buying a shop in Maple Falls.”

  Gran looked down for a moment. When she raised her head, she tried to smile but failed miserably. “I totally understand. You should follow your heart and do what’s right for you. Let’s not talk about it anymore today. We can discuss more options tomorrow. Maybe I should rethink the retirement community.”

  Minutes ago, Gran had been excited about the prospect of going into business together, and now she looked utterly despondent. Was Maddie the worst granddaughter ever? She sure felt like it. Each bite turned to sawdust in her mouth.