“Has Chas discovered anything about who might be leaving dead critters around the house?” Kel asked. The artist had come over for coffee with the ladies.
Missy shook her head. “He confirmed that the Countdown Killer was in jail, but that’s about it. I can’t imagine why anyone would be doing these awful things. I’m so worried about Bitsy and Toffee – I haven’t been letting them out of my sight.”
“Oh, I never even thought about that,” Echo put her hand over her mouth, horrified.
“Why don’t we all adjourn to the kitchen for coffee and some of Missy’s amazing cupcakes?” Carla suggested, giving Echo and Kel a pointed look.
The artist picked up on her tactic immediately, “I think that’s a fine idea,” he said heartily, leading the way. Echo put her arm around Missy’s waist and followed, with Carla trailing behind.
The friends pulled out bar stools around the kitchen island, and settled in for coffee and a chat.
“Look, I know that we’re trying to take your mind off of this madness, Missy, but I’m worried about this. It just seems really sick to me,” Echo blurted, unable to contain her concern.
“It does seem sick,” Missy nodded her agreement. “It makes me want to sit down and have a chat with the Countdown Killer to see what might motivate someone to do things like that.”
Kel stared at her for a moment. “You might be able to do exactly that…” he said slowly.
“What? Really?” Missy asked, her eyes widening.
“No, absolutely not,” Carla folder her arms and shook her head. “That is a dangerous and deranged individual that you’re talking about. You don’t even need to be in the same county with that psycho.”
“Wow, judgmental much?” Echo said pithily.
“Are you kidding me? He’s a serial killer. We shouldn’t even be talking about Missy interacting with him. It’s preposterous,” the decorator insisted.
Missy ignored the exchange between those two and focused on Kel. “Do you think that’s even a possibility?” she asked.
“Well, if you were to go in wanting to interview him for information, probably not. You usually have to be a member of the press for that, but if you write to him and tell him that you’d like to meet him for a social visit, he might agree to it,” the artist suggested.
“That’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Echo shuddered, and Carla nodded.
“That’s not a bad idea, but we may be running out of time. Whoever is doing this is already on number eight,” Missy bit her lip, thinking.
“Then you might want to express the letter,” Kel replied. “This person is probably either a fan of the Countdown Killer, or someone who knows him personally. He might be able to give you some clue as to how to figure out who he is and why he’s doing it.”
“Maybe you should just suggest that Chas go up there and talk to him,” Carla raised her eyebrows.
“It would actually probably be trickier for him to go through law enforcement channels and try to secure an interview than it would for the Countdown Killer to invite you for a social call,” Kel pointed out.
“But I wouldn’t have any idea how to contact him.”
“He has a fan website that has contact info on it.”
“That’s disgusting,” Carla grimaced.
“That what our reality TV world has done to us,” Echo remarked dryly.
“I’m going to do it,” Missy said, setting her jaw. “I’m going to talk to the Countdown Killer and see if he can help.”
“Because serial killers are known to be so helpful?” Carla asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Missy, this is madness. What could that vile human being possibly tell you that could make a difference?”
“Maybe what this guy is going to do next, or what he wants,” Echo murmured, dazed by the whole bizarre situation.
“Don’t tell me that you’re buying into this crazy idea too,” Carla demanded of Echo, incredulous.
“I think Missy needs to do whatever it takes to find out everything that she can. This is serious, Carla. We can’t just sit by and hope that it all works out,” she responded gently. “I hate the thought of her in a room with a madman too, but if it’ll help, I’ll support her decision to go.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kel offered. “Send him a letter tonight, and see what he says.”
Missy nodded. “Countdown Killer, here I come,” she said grimly.
Chapter 8
Missy was terrified but determined when she received a short reply from Warren Casman, a.k.a. the Countdown Killer. “I will see you,” was the brief response from the murderer. A slip of paper with the date and time of her visit, along with succinctly spelled-out protocols for visiting such a dangerous criminal, had been included in the plain white envelope from the scary, maximum-security prison in rural Illinois.
She would meet with Casman on January 2, which meant that she’d need to leave Florida the day after the New Year’s Eve gala in order to make it on time. She and Kel made arrangements to fly to the Midwest on New Year’s Day, and she’d return to the Inn on the 3rd, not wanting too much time to elapse while she was gone. She’d send Toffee and Bitsy to Echo’s house during her absence. Echo was already taking care of Spencer’s cat, Moose, while he was gone, and the three animals got along quite well.
Echo and Kel hadn’t yet arrived for coffee, so Missy had a rare, early morning moment alone, and jumped, heart pounding, when the doorbell rang. With great trepidation, she made her way to the door, and was relieved when she peeked out and saw Gus, the pest control tech, standing on her front porch in his blue coveralls.
“Good morning, Gus,” she greeted him politely. “I sent our payment in yesterday.”
“Oh, okay, that’s nice. Thank you, but that’s not why I came over today. I realized that I was missing one of my nozzle tips after I left here the other day, so I came back to look for it,” he explained.
“Did you find it?”
“Yup, sure did, but I thought that you’d want to know that, when I went behind the cupcake shop to look for it, I smelled something pretty powerful out there. Made me wonder if maybe one of your freezers went on the fritz and some food spoiled or something. I tried the knob to see if it was unlocked, so I could go in and take a look for you, but it was locked up tight as a drum,” he shrugged.
“Oh dear,” Missy exclaimed. “I haven’t been back to the shop since we closed on Christmas Eve. That food may have been spoiling for quite some time. Thanks for letting me know, Gus. I’ll go over and check it out in a bit.”
“Alright then. Have a good day, ma’am,” he gave her a brief smile, then headed down the porch steps toward his van.
There was no way that Missy was going to check out the shop by herself. She didn’t want to leave the dogs alone, and couldn’t bring them into the shop with her, so she’d just wait until Kel, Echo and Carla arrived for coffee and cupcakes, then one of them could watch the furry babies while the others went over to clean up what was undoubtedly a nasty mess in one of the freezers.
When the trio arrived, Carla elected to stay behind and curl up with two very excited canine friends, while Missy, Echo and Kel headed over to see what damage had occurred at Cupcakes in Paradise. They went to the back door, the smell was overwhelming, and the three of them held their noses to keep from gagging. Echo had the most trouble, and kept swallowing repeatedly. Missy unlocked the door and flipped on the light switch just inside, horrified at what she found. There were dead fish scattered on the floor and countertops in the kitchen. They had apparently been there for quite some time. The kitchen buzzed with flies and there were maggots squirming in the sightless eye sockets of the unfortunate creatures.
Unable to handle the sight and smell any longer, Missy pushed Kel and Echo out the door and closed it firmly behind her. Echo went around the side of the building, propping herself up with one hand on the siding while she dry heaved and shook uncontrollably.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Missy murmur
ed, rubbing her friend’s back with one hand while holding her nose with the other. Kel had turned an unpleasant shade of grey, and kept his hand over his nose as well.
“Looks like we found number ten,” the artist remarked with a disgusted grimace.
“I can’t handle that. I’m going to call in a professional cleaning team to take care of the mess. Some of those guys who clean up after flooding and hurricanes,” Missy said, shuddering.
Echo stood up, leaning against Missy for support, and the three friends made their way quickly back to the Inn, where a call was made, first to Chas, then to the Bio Boys Restoration Service. Carla was shocked when they told her what had happened, and was grateful that she had elected to stay at the Inn with Toffee and Bitsy. Chas came in, looking grim after sending a forensics team over to take photos and collect evidence.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Missy was alarmed when she saw the look on her husband’s face.
“Don’t go out on the porch for a while,” he advised.
“Why?”
“It seems that in the time that it took me to get here, our vandal placed eight squirrels on the porch. My guys are going to photograph them and do some clean up out there,” he explained quietly.
“What happened to the squirrels?” Echo asked weakly.
“You don’t want to know,” the detective asserted, just as the group heard the footsteps of officers on the porch as they went about their business.
“Let’s go hang out in the kitchen. We can cook, or bake or something to forget about all of this ugliness,” Carla suggested, taking Missy’s arm and leading the way.
Chas kissed his wife’s cheek, and headed back to work. The three women whipped up homemade soup with fluffy dumplings, while Kel got on the phone and made airline reservations for himself and Missy. She was more determined than ever to talk with Warren Casman now. Whoever was doing these awful things had to be stopped, sooner rather than later.
Chapter 9
Missy was thankful that the final preparations for the gala kept her busy enough to mostly take her mind off of the horrible things that had happened around the Inn lately. She was tempted to call Spencer, because she’d feel safer if he was around during the day while Chas was at work, but she didn’t want to bother him while he was on vacation.
Her cocktail dress for the event was a beautiful pewter satin that brought out the kitten grey of her eyes, and she had found an elegant pair of shoes to match. With all of the stress that she’d experienced since Christmas, she had lost a little bit of weight, so there was no problem slipping into the gorgeous dress that skimmed her curves gracefully. The entire event was being catered, she would be able to focus exclusively on her guests, and was looking forward to forgetting all about the strange occurrences of the last few days.
Glancing in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs, Missy took a deep breath and steadied herself, ready to go greet and entertain the police chief, the mayor, and a handful of other local dignitaries who would be in attendance, as well as scores of police officers and city officials. This party would be a great way to kick off the New Year in the town that they had relocated to several months ago, and Missy was really looking forward to an evening of socializing. Echo, Carla and Kel would be there, of course, so she’d have the comfort and assurance of good friends around her as well.
Chas had gone down ahead of her, so when she reached the foyer, he was already greeting guests and pointing them toward the ballroom, where the band was playing mellow music for the cocktail hour. Dancing would start later, and continue until the countdown to the New Year. There were noisemakers, glittering beads, party hats and poppers for each guest, and Carla had rigged a sparkling net over the dance floor which contained hundreds of balloons that would be released at midnight.
The first few hours went by in a flash of introductions, conversation and laughter. The hors d’oeuvres were superb and the champagne flowed freely. When the dance floor opened, the group wasn’t shy at all about getting out there and shaking it up. Missy had just gone to the bar for a glass of ice water, feeling flushed from dancing, when she spotted a woman, who looked to be a few years older than her, walking slowly into the ballroom. Ever the gracious hostess, she immediately went over to introduce herself.
“Hi, I don’t believe I’ve met you yet,” she smiled at the newcomer, who looked lovely in her demure, but flattering burgundy cocktail dress. “I’m Melissa Beckett,” she extended her hand and the woman shook it, smiling shyly.
“Dora Hartshorn,” she replied. It took Missy a moment to recall where she had heard the name before.
“Oh! Dora, how nice to see you,” she said, buying herself some time before finally realizing who the woman was. “You work at Marvelous Mailer, right? My friend Echo speaks very highly of you.”
Dora was the formerly overly-made-up single 50-something who’d had a crush on Kel for years. He refused to even consider dating her, but Echo had taken the woman under her wing, and had apparently given her a makeover. Gone were the half-inch long fake eyelashes and the purple-highlighted hair. The woman standing and talking to Missy looked as pretty and elegant as any woman there. Her thick, chestnut hair had been trimmed to a fashionable shoulder length, and her makeup looked natural, underscoring the beauty that had been formerly hidden by thick black mascara and eyeliner, brightly colored shadows and lipsticks, and cakey foundation.
“Yep, that’s me,” Dora twisted her hands nervously. “Echo is a sweet gal. I hope you don’t mind that she invited me. She’s been doing things to improve my image and wanted to show off her handiwork, I think,” she laughed softly.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Dora, and you look absolutely beautiful,” Missy reassured the woman who clearly felt uncertain about being in the glittering venue with local celebrities. “Let’s go find Echo.” She took the newcomer by the elbow and guided her through the crowd toward the edge of the buffet tables, where Echo and Carla were chatting, nibbling on hors d’oeuvres.
“Dora!” Echo exclaimed, when Missy brought her over. “You look fantastic.” She gave the shy gal a hug. “Carla, have you met Dora?” she asked.
“Yes, we’ve met,” the decorator replied with a smirk, then turned back to the food, seeming to search for just the right tidbit to put on her plate.
Echo looked back and forth between the two, wondering about Carla’s snub, and covered the moment of incredible awkwardness by grabbing a clean plate from the table and handing it to Dora.
“Here, you have to try the vegan hors d’oeuvres,” she led her skillfully away from the decorator.
Missy, who could not tolerate snobbery or pretense, confronted Carla. “What was that all about?” she demanded quietly. “Do you two know each other?”
“You could say that. She used to work as a records clerk over at the court house. Every time my husband came in, she’d fawn over him and make it quite clear that there were favors to be had, simply for the asking. Apparently, she finally got to him, because there was more than one occasion that he came home smelling of cheap perfume, with her lipstick on his collar,” Carla sneered, sipping her cranberry juice and tonic.
“How do you know that it was Dora?” Missy asked in a low voice.
“It was pretty obvious in the way that she acted around him. Hanging all over him, giving him “come hither” looks…it was disgusting.”
“From what Echo has said, she used to be like that with every man. It was just a lack of social skills – a habit that needed to be pointed out to her. Maybe you should give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Or maybe she just needs to stay away from me,” the decorator raised an eyebrow and turned away, moving off when she saw Echo and Dora coming back toward them.
“This is a really nice party,” Dora said, her eyes following Carla with a wistful look.
“Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Missy replied, relieved to see Kel approaching.
“Good evening my lovelies,” the art
ist boomed, champagne flute in hand. “And who have we here?” he asked, noticing Dora, as though for the first time. He did a double-take and blinked a couple of times.
“Dora? Is that you?” he was utterly astonished.
“Hi Kel,” she said softly.
Aghast, for a moment, the artist was speechless, then a confused smile lit his face. “That’s extraordinary,” he commented at last.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words, Phillip Kellerman,” she teased, a bit of her former brass and sass resurfacing.
“And I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen you looking so stunning, my dear,” Kel replied, recovering from his initial shock.
Dora opened her mouth to answer, when a sudden disturbance on the other side of the room captured all of their attention. It was difficult to tell what had happened, but a cluster of people were looking at something on the floor. Missy hurried over to see that one of their guests, a wife of one of the patrol officers, had collapsed. Someone called for an ambulance, and the woman’s husband knelt beside his wife, checking her vital signs as best he could.
While they were waiting on the ambulance, another guest collapsed, then another, until a total of seven guests were on the floor, one of whom was Carla.
“Chas, what is going on here?” Missy asked, terrified.
“My guess is that this is number seven,” he said grimly. “Either this caterer is in big trouble, or our stalker has struck again. Hopefully, this time it isn’t fatal.”
Missy was horrified, and watched numbly as a fleet of ambulances took away her guests. Still in his tuxedo, Chas headed to the hospital to monitor the condition of those who had collapsed, and to try to get some answers as to the cause of the debacle. The remaining guests said their goodbyes and made their way out of the party, leaving Missy, Echo and Kel sitting alone in the empty ballroom, wondering what on earth had happened.
“Will you two stay tonight? I don’t want to be alone with Chas out working on this,” the distraught hostess murmured.
Fruitcake Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 26 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 3