Pamela DuMond - Annie Graceland 03 - Cupcakes, Pies, and Hot Guys

by Pamela DuMond

  “Your mom called me. She turned the Wild Women’s Group into the police.” He shook his soaked head and water flew.

  “Oh, crap,” Annie sputtered. “Are they in jail?”

  “Not yet. As far as I can ascertain, Oconomowoc’s Wild Women’s Group over-fantasized a bit. They also raised some money for Frank’s charities. Honestly, I think they’re less rowdy than they proclaim.”

  “Good,” Annie sighed.

  “But you’re looking a little stormy, right now, partner. What are you doing out in the lake at this time of night?” Jamie treaded water, holding them both up.

  “I came home expecting it to be a simple trip. But it’s not simple.” Annie released her arms from Jamie’s neck, pulled away from him and swam toward the dock.

  “What’s not simple?” Jamie asked.

  “Where do I begin?”

  “At the beginning.” Jamie swam after her.

  “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Annie Graceland.” Annie reached the dock, grasped the stairs and caught her breath. “She loved her family, friends and her hometown. She married the prince and moved to a foreign land called L.A. Unfortunately, the prince quickly turned back into a frog. But Annie had grown to love that foreign land, still lived there and had recently fallen for another prince. Until her mother insisted she come home and tempted her with homemade cinnamon buns and other delicious local concoctions.”

  Jamie swam up to her. Held onto the dock with one hand. Cupped his other hand behind her head and looked down into her eyes, his mouth inches from her mouth. “Am I the cinnamon buns or the delicious concoctions?”

  “Both,” she said. “And maybe, I still have a boyfriend.”

  “And maybe I don’t care anymore, because you wouldn’t be tempted by me, if he was everything that you wanted or needed. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  She looked away from him. “I’m confused.”

  “Confused isn’t ‘wrong,’” Jamie said. “I’m not ten anymore. And you’re no longer my babysitter.” He leaned down, pulled her toward him and kissed her. He gripped her long drenched hair. Pulled her, hard and firm, against him. Nibbled on her lower lip, pulled her wet pj top higher onto her chest, ran his hand underneath it and held her so fiercely that it might have been his last day on earth.

  Annie wanted this. She wanted more. But yet… She pulled away from him. “Wait, wait,” she said. “I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m crazy about another guy, you know.”

  “Which means you’re also crazy about me.” Jamie kissed her again. Urgently. Twenty-two years of longing rolled off him crystallized and channeled into this moment. This kiss. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck. He kissed her neck, his lips headed south. He felt exquisite. He was exquisite.

  She finally had to admit she was crazy about Jamie Ryan. He knew what to do in the driver’s seat, and she decided, Enough. Raphael was with another woman. Annie needed to stop being Ms. Worry, Ms. Puritan. She needed to step back and let Jamie Ryan take the wheel.

  She kissed him back. She held onto his shoulders with her hands and pulled him toward her. The feelings were intoxicating. She was breathless. Jamie Ryan. No way she was falling for Jamie Ryan.

  “Oopsies,” Nancy said.

  Annie looked up at her mom. Nancy covered her eyes with one hand and held out her portable phone and a towel with the other. “There’s an important call from a Detective Raphael Campillio for you. He stated that he called your cell, called the Lake Lodge, called Julia. And he apologized for rudely ringing me at this time of night. But he said it was urgent and I was allowed to interrupt whatever you were doing.”

  Annie reluctantly broke away from Jamie. She crawled up the dock’s ladder and shivered in the night air. She took the towel and draped it over her shoulder before placing the phone to her ear. “Raphael?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Whatever Alma said to you, it’s not true. She’s not my girlfriend anymore. But she does this. Shows up at every family reunion. Tries to get back together. It probably sounds complicated, but actually it’s not, Annie. Because I am crazy about you.”

  Jamie was now on the dock, shirtless, dripping wet and glaring at Annie.

  “Come with me, we’ll all pat you dry. I mean, I’ll get you a towel,” Nancy said.

  “What’s your mom talking about?” Rafe asked.

  “I don’t know anymore,” Annie said. “I just don’t know.”

  “Come home, Annie,” Rafe said. “Come home today.”

  “I’ll be back in L.A. soon,” Annie. “Really soon.”

  Jamie shook his head.

  “I can’t talk anymore tonight, Raphael. I’m sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow. I miss you.” She hung up.

  Jamie and Annie sat inside her mom’s kitchen, swathed in cushy towels. Even though it was July, Aunt Susan made her famous hot chocolate without the marshmallows—per Annie’s request. She and Jamie both sipped from steaming cups. The Wild Women had retired to the living room to give them some space.

  “I’ve been in love with you for twenty-two years, Annie,” Jamie said. “This Rafe person knows you for a second. What about us?”

  Frank Plank sat on a kitchen counter on the sidelines. “I told you,” he said. “True love never dies. Sometimes it gets pushed to the side for a while. But if you’re not sure—you need to give Jamie the benefit of the doubt and let him go.”

  Annie shook her head. “Not tonight, Jamie. I can’t make decisions tonight. I have to think. You have to go.”

  Jamie pushed himself out of the chair. “I’m leaving now. But I’m not leaving, forever.”

  No-Marshmallows-Allowed Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream

  Hot Chocolate Ingredients:

  Yield: 4 mugs

  ½ cup white sugar

  1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

  A pinch of salt

  Three ½ cups milk

  1/3 cup boiling water

  ½ cup half and half cream

  ½ tsp vanilla

  Hot Chocolate Instructions:

  Mix sugar, cocoa and salt in mixing bowl. Pour into cooking pot. Slowly add boiled water. Stir concoction and bring to boil. Let it simmer while stirring for another two minutes. Don’t allow contents to burn. Add and stir in the milk and heat until it is very hot. Do not boil. Take off the burner, and add the vanilla, stirring gently.

  Whipped Cream Ingredients and Instructions:

  Pour one cup heavy cream into electric blender and blend until little crests take shape. Top hot chocolate mugs with the cream.

  Serve warm and toasty, but not hot enough to burn mouths. Yummy!

  Twenty-three

  Homecomings

  Annie hunched on a chair in the kitchen, her head in her hands and sobbed. The Wild Women and Frank encircled her. Aunt Susan gave her a neck rub. Her mom held her hand. Gloria dispensed tissues. Mrs. McGillicuddy held an open box of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies next to her.

  Frank tried to take a cookie, but was unsuccessful. He sighed. “Will I never learn?”

  “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Annie wiped her eyes and reached for a cookie. “I thought I’d come back home for a fun trip and instead it’s murder, madness and confusion.”

  “Except for the murder part,” Aunt Susan said, “that’s generally what coming home is all about.”

  “In my humble opinion, the two man juggling act can be a little tricky,” Mrs. McGillicuddy said. “I cannot even count the times I have had to deal with that. Have another cookie.”

  “How can I choose?” Annie asked. “It’s not the right time. There’s the stress of solving the murder—I mean, the crowning of Mr. Wisconsin. What if I don’t want to choose?”

  The revs of a dirt bike hummed in the near distance. The engine’s noise grew louder until the bike sounded like it was right outside the house.

  Annie’s eyes widened and she inhaled sharply.

  The driver cut the engine. Except for the c
reak of the crickets, there was deadly silence.

  “Holy crap. Oh, shit.” Annie jumped off the chair. “The driver is most likely the same person who shot at Stephanie Storms. A bullet from the very same gun killed Frank Plank. Run or hide ladies!”

  Aunt Susan bolted out the back door followed by Gloria who said, “I’ve got a gun in my spare makeup case in the car. No one messes with the Wild Women.”

  Annie saluted Gloria. “Godspeed.”

  “My rheumatism.” Mrs. McGillicuddy’s eyes widened and she pointed to her knees.

  “Sit in the recliner.” Annie hissed.

  Mrs. McGillicuddy plopped on it. There was a knock on the door. Annie clutched her chest with one hand, grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it over her former teacher. “Try not to move and breathe quietly. Better yet, pretend you’re dead. I’ll distract the shooter.”

  “You’re late, wild child,” Nancy said.

  Annie turned and watched her mom walk calmly to the door and open it. “Mom, no!” She yelled. But it was too late.

  “Come inside.” Nancy held out the box of Thin Mints to the intruder. “Cookie?”

  The bike rider entered the foyer. Took off her helmet, shook out her long brunette hair and tossed it over her shoulders. “I’d love a Thin Mint, thank you, Mrs. Graceland,” Lila Delovely said.

  “Please welcome the newest member of the Wild Women’s Group,” Nancy said as she and Lila air kissed.

  “She’s here! She’s here.” Frank walked toward Lila and ran his index finger across a strand of her gorgeous locks that rested on her cheek. Then he frowned. “But what’s up with that dirt bike? Does this mean Lila killed me? Because if that’s the case, I have a problem with that.”

  “Lila,” Annie said. “We need to talk.”

  Lila sat on the swing, scuffing the toe of her leather boot on the ground. Annie and Frank crossed paths as they paced back and forth between the dirt bike and Lila.

  “What’s going on with you?” Annie asked. “You’re engaged to a prince but you’re still mooning over Frank. Now you show up in the middle of the night at my mom’s house on a Honda, which could be the same vehicle that a killer rode. I don’t think you murdered Frank. But you need tell the truth.”

  “I loved Frank! How could you even think I could murder him?” Lila said. “I called it off with Frederick. I was never in love with him and I can’t live in a gilded cage.”

  “Finally,” Frank said.

  “That’s a start,” Annie said. “Next.”

  “Your mom encouraged me to move back to Wisconsin for a bit. ‘Relax where you’re comfortable, she said. Spend a little time here. Get your feet back on the ground.’ She even offered me your brother’s former room, should I decide I didn’t want to stay with my mom.”

  Annie nodded. “Take her up on that. Your mom seems more than a little stressed these days. No judgment.”

  Lila nodded. “You know how mother and daughter relationships can get strained?”

  “Hah-hah! You’re kidding me, right?” Annie laughed. “Never mind. I’m punchy. Where’d you get the bike?”

  “It’s mine,” Lila said.

  “I think you’re tired and that you’re mistaken. You probably rented this bike, just like you rented the Harley.”

  Lila shook her head. “No, this bike is definitely mine. It’s one of my favorite things.”

  “One of my favorite things was the team autographed championship Green Bay Packers Super Bowl 2011 poster,” Frank said. “Lila and I had sex in front of it during halftime. I even dreamt that the team watched and cheered me on. Talk about fantasy football.” He sighed. “But if Lila killed me, that’s not going to be my favorite thing, anymore.”

  “You fantasized about the Packers while having sex?” Annie said.

  Lila stopped swinging and stared at Annie. “Frank’s here, isn’t he?”

  Annie pointed up at the sky. “Oh look, a falling star.”

  “I do not fall for the ‘look, a falling star’ line.” Lila pushed herself to standing and approached. “Frank’s here. You just talked to him. Again.”

  Annie backpedaled. “I like you, Lila. I think you have a handle on fashion and I believe you’re a super cool girl. But right now you’re acting dopey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “After your bee sting incident I Googled you. You had some weird ties to a recently murdered self-help author, Derrick Fuller. And there you were again— mentioned at Snotsky’s Department Store of Santa Monica when a clerk was killed. I called a dear friend who works at Snotsky’s. She believes that you, totally under the radar, helped solve the death of Edith Flowers, a recently murdered Snotsky’s clerk.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Annie had every idea what Lila was talking about.

  “You, Annie Graceland, are keeping a secret from me,” Lila said.

  “Just tell her.” Frank waved his hands in between the two girls.

  “I can’t,” Annie said.

  “Can’t what?” Lila asked.

  “You have to,” Frank said.

  “What if this is the bike that some wacko drove and tried to shoot Stephanie?” Annie asked.

  “But it’s not. It’s my bike,” Lila said.

  “You just got back from Europe. How long have you been gone?” Annie asked.

  “Four years,” Lila said. “I don’t—”

  “Oh, my God.” Annie face palmed.

  “What. What?” Frank asked.

  “I was a little busy,” Lila said. “I didn’t visit. I called, e-mailed, wrote and Skyped. What. What?”

  “I can’t do this,” Annie said.

  “You have to!” Lila and Frank chimed in.

  “Fine,” Annie said. “But I guarantee this isn’t going to make you happy.”

  It was a couple of hours past a glorious sunrise on July 4th in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. The weather had cooled down a little. The blue skies were spotted with a few puffy white clouds that were chased by several darker storm clouds. Jamie interviewed Lila in Nancy’s back yard, away from prying eyes. A police department technician dusted the dirt bike for prints and made casts of its tires.

  Gloria hovered next to the police tech and watched him work. “Honda. About six years old. I bought myself one for my 40th birthday present, several years ago. I take it out every now and again,” she said. “A wild woman never forgets her first ride.”

  Annie rocked gently on the swing that hung from the tall tree and watched the rest of the Wild Women who sat on Nancy’s front porch. Right now they looked more like the Weary Women. Mrs. McGillicuddy’s head rested on Aunt Susan’s shoulder as they both snored.

  Annie’s mom walked up to her with a steaming cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll resting on a napkin. “I know you L.A. types tend to be fussy about your coffee. So I made you the good stuff.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Annie took the cup, sipped, made a face and winced. “What is this?”

  “It’s the fancy TV coffee from the woman who has folders in her cup.”

  “Aaah, yes. So, the entire time I snuck in our house? You not only knew that I slept here but also borrowed your clothes.” Annie sipped more coffee.

  “Knew?” Her mother shrugged. “Don’t underestimate your mother. I orchestrated everything. I donated your curtains to the Good Will a couple of weeks ago. When you said yes to the visit, I hurried down there, bought them back and re-hung them.” She handed Annie the cinnamon roll. “The last time I made these you resisted them. That’s when I realized how serious you were about Lost Angeles.”

  Annie bit into the roll. “You’re the best. Share the recipe?”

  “When I see you once a week on Sunday in my kitchen for dinner.”

  “You dusted my room, changed the sheets, lined up my favorite stuffed animals, including Walla, and baked my favorite decadent dishes?” Annie asked.

  Nancy shrugged. “A mother’s gotta do what a mother’s gotta do.”

  Annie frowned. �
��What about Jamie Ryan?”

  “He’s handsome. He’s in his thirties, has a good job, lives in Oconomowoc and is crazy about you. What about him?”

  “Was he part of your set-up? Did you pay him? Was he just part of your plan to get me to move home?” Annie asked.

  “Oh, my darling daughter.” Annie’s mom smoothed her hair. “Jamie’s been in love with you since you were both kids. I don’t have enough money to buy that kind of love.”

  Jamie conferred with the police tech as well as a deputy on Nancy’s driveway. He walked toward Annie and motioned her away from her mom. “We’ve got a match,” he said.

  “Lila?” Annie asked, hoping to God she wasn’t right. Hoping for Frank that wasn’t true.

  “The one tire on the bike appears to be the same tire from the dirtbike where the shooter fired at Stephanie,” Jamie said.

  “Crap. What about Lila?” Annie asked.

  Jamie shook his head. “She’s been in love with Frank Plank since she was a kid. She paid an astrologer to have their love compatibility horoscopes done for the past ten years. She kept the receipts. And, according to Lila, she was smart enough when she was twelve, to wait until she was a hot, older, curvy teenager to make a move on Frank. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think Lila did it. I do, however, suspect—”

  Annie shuddered as she remembered Suzy Mae Delovely’s talon-like fingernails nearly piercing her palms. “Don’t say it,” Annie whispered. “I feel terrible.”

  “You’re not the one who killed Frank Plank,” Jamie said. “You’re not the asshole.”

  “But Suzy has an air-tight alibi,” Annie said.

  “Then Suzy has an accomplice,” Jamie replied.

  Annie looked up at him. “So, what do we do now?”

  “I like the ‘we’.” Jamie said. “I hide Lila during the crowning of Wisconsin’s Hot Guys winner. You get dressed in something bordering on appropriate and help hunt down the other half of the team that killed Frank. And then we nail them—in an orderly and peaceful fashion.”