Salted Caramel Killer

by Summer Prescott

  “Oh that’s so great! A positive attitude is so important,” the girl nodded.

  “Seems as though we don’t have the book you’re looking for,” Joyce turned around, pasting on a plastic smile. “I’d be happy to order it for you.”

  “Oh no, that’s okay. I’ll just get it online, it’ll be cheaper.”

  “There’s certainly something to be said for purchasing from local businesses,” Joyce gave her a pointed look.

  “Oh absolutely,” the young woman’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I always try to do that. Have a great day,” she turned and left with a swish of her cutesy cotton dress and Joyce frowned.

  “Well, if that’s what works for him, he wouldn’t appreciate my fine wit and Ivy League education anyway,” she mused, with a sassy head tilt and pursing of the lips.

  **

  Missy and Echo were enjoying a cup of coffee and cupcakes at Cupcakes in Paradise, Missy’s cozy little shop by the beach, with Jasmine sleeping soundly in her baby seat at their feet, when the front door opened.

  “Hi all!” Andre waved as he came in.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” Echo teased. “I would think this would be the last place I’d ever see you. Don’t you turn to dust at the sight of sugar?”

  Andre and Missy chuckled.

  “No ma’am, I enjoy a good cupcake on special occasions, but I’m not shopping for myself today. Missy, when you told me that you had a cupcake shop, it made me think of Joyce. She’s been working so hard at the gym and I know that she loves her dessert, so I thought I’d surprise her. She invited me to come take a look at the bookstore and candle shop, and I didn’t want to come empty-handed,” he explained.

  “Looking for a book?” Echo waggled her eyebrows comically.

  “Actually, I collect candles, and Joyce tells me that your handmade ones are exquisite,” he didn’t miss a beat.

  “Speaking of which,” Echo looked at her watch, “I need to get going so that I can help Joyce open up,” she said, stuffing the last bite of cupcake in her mouth.

  “Watch out, that’s ten more minutes on the treadmill later,” Andre’s mouth twitched when Echo gave him a mock-scathing glance before heading out the door.

  “You two,” Missy shook her head and moved behind the counter. “Now, for some cupcakes for Joyce…”

  **

  Echo’s phone rang and she was surprised to see that it was her husband, Kel, calling. The world-renowned, but locally raised, artist had been hard at work on his latest sculpture when she’d left, and had barely registered her kiss goodbye because he was so immersed in his project. She didn’t think she’d be hearing from him until well after she got home from the candle shop.

  “Hey handsome, are you calling to ask me out to lunch?” she answered cheerfully.

  There was a pause before Kel answered. “Sadly, no. Were you working in your studio before you left this morning?”

  “No. I finished up a batch of candles last night and didn’t go in there at all this morning…why?” her stomach dropped at her husband’s somber tone.

  “The whole room is flooded. The water taps were left on at full blast, and every bit of furniture, all of the drywall, and the flooring is ruined.”

  “That’s impossible. I didn’t even use the sink last night, other than to get a glass of water while I worked, but I know I turned off the tap,” Echo’s heart sank. Her studio was at the back of their contemporary home and was one of her favorite places on earth. It had floor to ceiling windows with unique angles, and had been floored in bamboo. The thought that someone had violated her privacy and ruined her sanctuary chilled her to the bone.

  “Did you see anything on the cameras?”

  “I turned the security off, since I knew I was going to be home all day. It may have even happened last night,” Kel sighed. “Are you absolutely certain that you didn’t leave the water on?”

  “Positive. Without a doubt,” Echo was heartsick.

  “Okay then, I’ll give the police a call. I doubt that there’s anything that they’ll be able to do, but I’ll give it a shot. I’m so sorry that this happened, my love.”

  “Me too,” tears welled in Echo’s eyes as she hung up.

  “What’s wrong?” Joyce read her boss’s face instantly when Echo walked over to the bookstore half of the building.

  Echo related her call with Kel.

  “Okay, you just need to go,” Joyce squeezed her arm. “I’ve got this. We’re not too busy today anyway. Go take care of business, girl. Go on,” she shooed Echo away. “And you let me know if you need anything,” she called after her boss.

  “You’re the best, Joyce,” Echo’s voice was tremulous as she hurried toward the candle shop.

  **

  “Hey! You finally decided to come see the store,” Joyce exclaimed when Andre walked in.

  “You didn’t leave me much choice,” he grinned, handing her the box of cupcakes that Missy had helped him select. “For you, because you’ve been working so hard.”

  “Cupcakes from a trainer?” she looked at him suspiciously. “Are they like protein-packed, low carb, gluten free cupcakes?” her eyes narrowed.

  Andre held up his hands in self-defense, laughing. “I’m thinking that you’d never let me get away with something like that. Nope, these are the real thing. Missy helped me pick out her best ones, I swear.”

  “Trying to fatten me up so I’ll have to buy more training sessions?” she teased.

  “Whatever works,” he flirted.

  Before Joyce could respond, a shrill sound ululated through the building, piercing their eardrums with its intensity.

  “It’s the alarm,” Joyce yelled, above the din. “I have to go check the back door. I’ll be right back.”

  She ran to the back of the store, and found the back door open maybe an inch. She hit the button to silence the alarm, then punched in the code so that their security agency wouldn’t send a team. Going out the back, she looked in every direction and saw no one. Frowning, she locked the back door, making sure that it was dead-bolted, reset the alarm, and headed back to the front. Andre was nowhere to be found, and one of her cupcakes was missing.

  “This must just be the day for weird stuff happening,” she shook her head and went back to work, reviewing the inventory slips from the shipment that had come in yesterday.

  Scanning the list, she laughed out loud. “Psssh, wouldn’t you just know it…three copies of Your Powerfully Positive Thought Life.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  * * *

  Joyce Rutledge was halfway through her second Salted Caramel cupcake when she heard a strange sound outside her window. Thinking that a neighbor’s cat must be out prowling among her trash cans, she dismissed the sound, absorbed in her latest mystery novel. One of the main perks of working in a bookstore was having access to all of the latest books. That, and the fact that her entire house smelled amazing because she had one or more of Echo’s candles in every room.

  When she heard the sound again, she licked her fingers, put down her book and slipped her feet into her house slippers. Determined to discover once and for all just what was going on outside, she marched around the side of her rented house, illuminating her path with the flashlight on her cell phone. There was a rustling of leaves in the large bush next to her neighbor’s house, but when she shone her beam on it, she saw nothing but some leaves quivering.

  “Hmm…those leaves are pretty high up to have been moved by a stray cat,” she mused, wondering whether or not to get closer to the bush. Her decision was made for her when the lights in her house suddenly went out. Trying not to panic, Joyce jogged to the neighbor’s front door, and rang the bell twice.

  “Alright already!” a cranky voice called out from behind the door. “I ain’t deaf, I heard you the first time.”

  Joyce’s ninety year old neighbor, whom she referred to in her mind as “Old Lady Asterly,” opened the door and glared out at her.

  “Whatever
you’re selling, I ain’t buying,” she snapped, squinting to see, despite her thick glasses. “Do you know what time it is, young lady?” she shook a gnarled finger at Joyce.

  “Yes, Mrs. Asterly, it’s 9:35,” Joyce sighed. “I think someone may be playing a prank on me, so I don’t want to go back into my house. May I come in for just a moment, so that I can call the police?”

  “Police? I don’t want to be involved,” the old woman started to shut the door, but Joyce stuck her foot it in.

  “Mrs. Asterly, please. You won’t be involved in anything, just let me sit inside with you for a few minutes, please,” Joyce said firmly, clearly not willing to take no for an answer.

  “Darn kids these days, keeping me up all night,” the geriatric neighbor grumbled, standing back to let Joyce in. “I s’pose you expect me to make you some tea, too.”

  “No, I don’t expect that at all,” Joyce sighed, pushing the buttons for 911 on her phone.

  “Fine. I’ll go put the kettle on, just sit here and hold your horses,” Mrs. Asterly commanded, pulling the two halves of her worn robe together and tying the belt more tightly.

  **

  “Well, Ms. Rutledge, I don’t see any evidence of forced entry. Were your doors locked while you were outside?” the uniformed cop asked her.

  “No, I left the front door unlocked when I went outside so that I could get back in, but whoever it was would’ve had to have been really fast to get in while I was beside the house. The lights went out right after I got outside,” Joyce shook her head, befuddled.

  “Your breaker switch had been thrown, almost as though you’d put too heavy a load on your electrical circuits. Were you using a computer or anything before you left? Personal air conditioner unit, maybe?” he asked.

  “Nope, I was just sitting there, reading my book and having a cupcake. I heard a funny noise, went outside, and saw the bushes behind the house, by the neighbor on the other side, rustling. Then the lights went out and I came over to Mrs. Asterly’s.”

  “I see,” the cop nodded, taking notes. “Well, unfortunately, since there’s no sign of breaking in, and the electrical issue may have just been a surge or something, there’s not much that I can do for you. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. It may have just been some kids on a dare,” he reassured her. “Lock your windows and doors and have a good night. Call us if anything else happens,” he advised.

  “Okay, I will. Thank you,” Joyce replied, troubled.

  The police officer left, and she did as he suggested, but still felt uncomfortable. First, the alarm had gone off at work, now this. She wasn’t a big believer in coincidences, and was wondering what might happen next.

  “Mama always said that bad things happen in threes,” she whispered, going around the house, checking behind curtain panels and in the shower, even though Calgon’s finest had just done the same thing. “What next?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  * * *

  Echo woke early, to the sound of large trucks rumbling up the driveway. The cleanup crew had arrived to start working on demolition and restoration in her studio. While her candle-making supplies were safe, the rest of the room was a total loss, and she’d be unable to work there until the space was redone.

  “I should go help them,” she murmured, sitting up in bed.

  “No, you should go get Jazzy dressed and fed so that you don’t miss your appointment at the gym,” Kel encouraged, rubbing her lower back as he lay beside her.

  “I’m sure he’ll understand…” she began to protest.

  “Beloved, don’t worry about things here. The pros have the renovation well in hand, let’s leave the work to them. You go meet Joyce and let Jazzy have her recreation time at the gym. It’ll be good for you and it’ll take your mind off of what’s going on here,” her husband advised, his voice gentle and sleepy.

  “I suppose,” Echo sighed and laid her head on her knees, which were drawn up to her chest.

  “And then go see Missy. Just take a day for yourself and don’t worry. It’ll all be taken care of, I promise.”

  “But how did this even happen?” she worried.

  “What’s done is done. We’ll get past this.”

  “Okay,” Echo’s voice was uncertain.

  “Trust me, my beautiful wife. Soon this will all be a distant memory and you’ll be back making candles in no time.”

  **

  “Hey,” Echo greeted Joyce with a hug, after dropping Jazz off at the childcare room at the gym. “You look tired…everything okay?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Joyce didn’t seem to be her typical sassy self. “You look like you had a rough night too,” she observed, eyeing the lines around Echo’s eyes and mouth.

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  A man with a perfect flat-top haircut, a flawless complexion and a killer smile approached them just then.

  “Hello,” he said, with a compelling Australian accent. “Are you Echo and Joyce?”

  “Yes,” they answered in unison, making the Aussie chuckle.

  “Well, great to meet you both, I’m Simon, and I’m filling in for your trainer this morning. I’ve gone over the notes, so if you’re ready to get to work…” he gestured toward the training room with a smile.

  “Wait, where’s Andre?” Joyce asked, her heart beating faster.

  “I don’t know, actually. He may have called in sick or something,” Simon shrugged. “But I can assure you, I’ll be every bit as attentive as he was. Shall we?” he turned and headed into the room. Joyce and Echo exchanged a curious glance and followed.

  The new trainer worked them hard, but was very pleasant, letting them rest a bit between sets so that they didn’t feel nearly as worn out after their workout. He chatted with them during their intervals, and it was a bit of a surprise to find out that he loved working with rescue animals, and he’d studied botany and landscape design in Australia. Brawn and brains mixed with philanthropy made a delightful substitute for the ever-charming Andre.

  After thanking the new trainer with the sexy accent, they headed for the locker room, feeling tired but not exhausted. Echo showered and dressed, then headed for the childcare room. Joyce took a bit longer, luxuriating in the stinging spray of the shower. When she finished dressing, putting on her makeup and getting ready to go open the shop, she came out of the locker room and saw a contingent of policemen at the front desk. When she moved toward a side door, so that she didn’t interrupt whatever was going on, they surged toward her, a rumpled detective in a bad polyester suit leading the way.

  “Joyce Rutledge?” the detective called out, causing others in the gym to look over and see what was happening, much to her consternation.

  “Yes,” she frowned, wondering why a policeman would be asking for her, and contemptuous of the fact that he’d done it in such a less-than-subtle way. “Did you find out who cut off my power last night?” she asked, the potential reason for the police visit finally dawning on her.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” the detective approached, eyeing her suspiciously. “I find that paying my bill on time usually helps.”

  “How dare you?” Joyce was outraged. “You don’t know anything about me and you’re just assuming that I don’t pay my bills?”

  She shook her head in disbelief, and moved to brush past the detective, but he stopped her.

  “Not so fast. You’re coming to the station with me,” he caught her by the arm.

  “First, I’m not going anywhere with anyone until I find out just exactly what is going on here, and second, don’t you ever think you can put your hands on me without my permission, because I’m not having that,” she raised an eyebrow at him and looked down at his hand on her arm. “I don’t even know who you are.”

  He dropped his hand with a sour look on his face. “Detective Arthur Solinsky, Calgon PD, Homicide Division. Look, you can make this easy on yourself and come with me, or I can arrest you for impeding my investigation,” he shrugged. “Leave willingly, or lea
ve in handcuffs, it’s entirely up to you.”

  “Homicide?” Joyce was startled.

  “Yeah, Homicide. You coming with me or what?”

  “Who was…?” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the rest of the question.

  “You ain’t asking the questions here, I am,” Solinsky’s profound Jersey accent grated on her nerves, but she nodded numbly.

  “Fine,” her mouth compressed into a thin line. “Just let me get my car and I’ll meet you at the police station.”

  “Your car has already been impounded and is being searched for evidence.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  Mortician and Calgon Coroner, Timothy Eckels, snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves so that he could do a brief examination of the deceased before zipping him into a body bag and whisking him away to the morgue, where a full autopsy would be performed. He and his mortuary tech had already photographed the body from multiple angles and had taken notes and measurements of the scene.

  “That’s not a heart attack, is it?” his dark-haired Tech, Fiona McCamish, muttered from beside him.

  He shot her a reproving look from behind his coke-bottle thick lenses. One of his steadfast rules was that they never discussed the deceased at the scene, where police and bystanders might read too much into their comments. He also never gave opinions or made initial assessments on site, particularly since the new homicide detective had been hired. To say that Tim Eckels and Art Solinsky didn’t see eye to eye would be more than an understatement.

  “How long is this gonna take, Eckels?” Detective Solinsky growled, as Timothy knelt by the body, which had been found in the alley behind his former neighbor’s bookstore and candle shop.