Sugar and Vice: Cupcake Truck Mysteries

by Emily James

  Ms. Glover didn’t even look back to see how she’d answered. “We’ve had to talk to Janie before about lying. I see these types of behaviors a lot in children from single-parent homes.”

  Heat filled my chest, heavy, like it wanted to boil over. “That’s not always true. I was raised by a single dad.”

  Ms. Glover pursed her lips and ran her gaze over me. “I’m not surprised.”

  If she hoped to throw me off by insulting me, it wasn’t going to work. Janie didn’t want to be here. I was sure my fears were right about what was going on, but even if they weren’t, this wasn’t how it should be done.

  “If you think she’s acting out because she’s from a single-parent home, then it’d be better to talk to her dad about what’s going on.” I held out my hand toward Janie. “Come here and we’ll go find your dad.”

  Janie launched to her feet.

  Ms. Glover spun around and pointed at the floor. “Sit.”

  Janie hesitated, not sitting but not coming closer to me either.

  She was clearly afraid, but she’d also been taught to respect adults and obey her teacher.

  The low hum from the back of the room cut out. In the silence, I could hear Janie’s breathing.

  She was wheezing. It wasn’t as pronounced as when I’d found her at Harold’s party, but it was still there.

  Ms. Glover had already forced her to take a bite before I’d gotten there.

  Which meant she was stalling. She knew that if she could wait long enough, Janie would die. There’d be nothing I could do to help her. Her little backpack where she kept her epi pen was nowhere in sight.

  The machine creating the hum kicked back on, drowning out Janie’s labored breathing again.

  I had to call her bluff. “She’s having an allergic reaction to something. She needs help.”

  Something flickered across Ms. Glover’s face that looked like recognition. “You’re the woman from the article. You were at the outdoor birthday party. Where you failed the first time to kill Janie, and then had to pretend to save her when someone spotted you. You came back to finish the job tonight. I found you, but I wasn’t in time this time. No one will believe you over me.”

  Janie whimpered.

  She’s right, Fear said. No one’s going to believe you.

  I’d always thought sometimes Fear’s voice sounded a lot like a voice I should know. I recognized it this time. It was Jarrod’s voice.

  I’d listened to that line for too many years. This time, I wasn’t going to listen.

  Dan would believe me over this woman. He’d have my back, not someone else’s. I had to trust that he would or both Janie and I were done for.

  I eased a step toward them. “Janie’s dad will believe me. He’s a homicide detective, so the other police will believe him.”

  If Janie died, it wouldn’t even matter if anyone believed me or not. I’d have failed.

  I couldn’t let that be how this ended, regardless of what happened to me. Ms. Glover might kill me and tell her story to everyone and they might believe her, but if even Dan believed me, Janie would be safe.

  I dove for Ms. Glover. “Run for your dad!” I shouted to Janie.

  I didn’t even have time to pray that she made it to a grown-up who could help her before I was grappling with Ms. Glover on the ground.

  Her knee connected with my rib. My body instinctively curled into a protective ball rather than fighting back. I didn’t know how to fight. I only knew how to hide.

  What had saved me before would get me killed now if she found something heavy to crack me in the head with.

  She kicked me again, hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Then backed off.

  She was reaching for something. I had to move.

  I rolled to the side. A wrench connected with the concrete floor where I’d been.

  “It’ll be self-defense,” Ms. Glover said. “You were trying to hurt a student of mine, and I caught you at it.”

  I dragged myself to my feet. My ribs screamed like they’d been pried apart. I turned my mind away from it, imagining my protective brick wall, and limped backward. Somehow in our roll across the floor, she’d managed to get between me and the door.

  Rushing her now that she had a weapon seemed stupid. Waiting for her to hit me with the wrench also didn’t seem smart. All I had to block with were my bare arms. A good blow from a wrench would break my bone. It wouldn’t be my first broken bone—I knew how long a bone took to heal and the challenge it added to everything. I couldn’t be on the run, living on the street, with a broken bone.

  My back hit the wall. I might not have defensive skills, but I’d talked my way out of a potential beating more than once. This time, I only needed to stall long enough for help to arrive.

  Help was coming. I had to believe help would come. Dan would come.

  “It’ll be too late for you no matter what story you tell them,” I said.

  Her grip on the wrench twitched, but she kept moving toward me. She might think I was trying to distract her so I could charge her or grab for something to defend myself. I would have grabbed my own weapon if I could, but the only things near me were sponges and rags. They’d bounce right off of her.

  “They’ll take your fingerprints even with that story you’ve made up. They’ll match the ones on the ketchup you tampered with.” I slowly drew my truck keys out of my pocket and dangled them in front of her. “You’d be better off getting a head start now.”

  The wrench lowered a couple of inches. “I’m not stupid enough to think you’d help me escape.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t want to die. I just didn’t want to allow a little girl to die either.”

  Even though I had no intention of actually allowing her to get away, she must have heard the truth in my reasoning.

  She let go of the wrench with one hand and held her hand up. “Toss them here.”

  Blood pounded behind my eyes. She was smart. It was possible she planned to try to attack me while my guard was momentarily down. Not for the first time, I wished I could read body language better. I couldn’t tell if she was playing me while I was trying to play her.

  My best way to find out was to throw the keys slightly toward the hand with the wrench. If she moved to grab them, I could sprint to her other side. If she didn’t, then I’d have to dive and try to get behind the industrial vacuum cleaner.

  I tossed the keys, and she leapt toward me, swinging the wrench. I dove to the side, smashing into the vacuum and toppling over, tangled in the cord.

  I was done. All I could hope now was that she’d hit me directly in the temple, killing me instantly.

  “Drop it,” Dan’s voice was so loud that for a second I thought he was standing beside me.

  Ms. Glover dropped the wrench. It hit the ground with a clang and a strange bounce.

  Dan stepped through the doorway, a gun in his hand focused on Ms. Glover. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  It took me a full ten seconds before my mind sorted through everything enough to figure out he was talking to me even though he never took his gaze off Ms. Glover.

  “I’m fine. Janie?”

  “Claire had an epi pen in her purse. An ambulance and back-up are on their way.”

  A quiver started in my legs and rode up my body. I’d known what coming back would mean. But preparing for something and having that thing happen often weren’t the same thing. I felt a bit like I only had a few weeks left to live and there were so many things left I still wanted to do.

  Dan nodded toward the doorway. “Go. I’ll find you afterward.”

  I looked toward the door and back to him. His back was to me now. He motioned for Ms. Glover to turn around, and he pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

  He was letting me go? How would that work? Surely the police would need my statement.

  Dan glanced back over his shoulder and raised both eyebrows. I didn’t need to be told twice. I strode as fast as my aching body would take me out of the building t
hrough the back door and to my truck.

  Dan had said he’d find me. That seemed like the place he was most likely to look. And I couldn’t have left before that even if I’d wanted to. My keys lay somewhere on the janitor’s closet floor, and my truck had no gas.

  I sat on the curb next to my truck, watching from a distance as emergency vehicles pulled up and parents with their children filed out. Definitely not the way they would have expected their special end-of-the-year play to go. Had the stakes been less than life and death, I would have felt guilty for ruining their evening.

  Almost an hour passed before Dan came out of the building. He looked around, and must have spotted my hard-to-miss truck despite how far down the street I was. He headed in my direction.

  Ten feet from me, Dan pulled my keys from his pocket. “I promised Labreck I’d take your statement, so if I give these back, you have to promise not to skip town.”

  “I won’t leave before you get what you need.” If I had my freedom to leave after that, though, I still had to leave.

  Dan’s expression didn’t give away whether he caught my slight dodge or not. He moved a step closer to where I sat, my keys still in his hand. “Were you really going to let her get away?”

  I flinched inside. I must have sounded like a coward. “You heard that?”

  “As I was sneaking up to the door to assess the situation.”

  Maybe it would be better if he believed I would let a murderer go free to save myself. Maybe then he wouldn’t try to convince me to stay. Maybe he’d even help me leave.

  Jarrod had always made sure I knew how weak and selfish I was. It shouldn’t bother me if Dan felt the same way. I’d never see him again once I left town.

  But I couldn’t make the lie come out. Putting that black mark on what I’d done made me feel like I would have if I’d baked a beautiful wedding cake and then hit it with a sledge hammer.

  Instead I got up, took the keys back, and put them in my pocket. “You’re going to need to drive me to a gas station. I’m pretty sure my tank doesn’t have enough in it to start, let alone make it down the street.”

  Dan smirked. Instead of making me sick to my stomach the way a similar expression on Jarrod’s face would have, I actually found it a bit endearing. There was a softness to Dan’s smirk, like we were sharing an inside joke.

  He spread his arms out as if to block me from heading for his car. “I’ll go fill a can and bring it back to you. I don’t know what you have all over you, but I’d rather it not end up all over my seats.”

  Chapter 25

  I emerged from Dan’s guest bathroom showered and freshly dressed at the same time as Dan came out of his bedroom, where Janie had insisted on sleeping for the night. I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to sleep in her own room alone after everything that happened. Dan might have a difficult time convincing her to go back to school even though her teacher wouldn’t be there anymore.

  He closed the door softly behind him. “She and Claire are both asleep. Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch or in Janie’s princess bed.”

  He didn’t move any further toward me, but something in his posture made me think he wanted to hug me. I slipped past him and down the stairs.

  He trailed along behind me. “Hot chocolate?”

  I could use a cup of something sweet. I only drank coffee and tea for the caffeine, not because I particularly enjoyed them. “This time I’ll make it for you.”

  I had to run out to my truck for cocoa, vanilla, and cinnamon. Dan apparently had been telling the truth when he called saying he needed help with a dessert. He could cook, but he couldn’t bake, so he didn’t have some of the things I considered staples in the house. He did have sugar at least since he used it in his coffee.

  He hopped up on the island in the kitchen and watched me work. “Is this going to spoil me for the packaged stuff?”

  I smiled at him over my shoulder. “I hope so. It’s my grandma’s recipe. She refused to drink any other hot chocolate the same way your grandpa refused to use any other ketchup.”

  Dan chuckled. It was a comforting thing to hear someone else’s genuine laughter. My truck got silent as a morgue when I closed up for the day and was there alone.

  I’d probably miss the silence too once I left my truck behind. Finding Harold’s killer hadn’t changed the fact that I still needed to disappear. Jarrod knew where I was. “What happens next? Will they arrest her?”

  “Labreck texted me while I was putting Janie to bed. The computer confirmed a match between Ms. Glover’s prints and the ones on the ketchup bottles. They’ve charged her with murder and attempted murder. Now they’ll start taking statements.”

  That could end up being a massive undertaking in preparation for court. They could easily interview the child Janie caught Ms. Glover taking inappropriate pictures of, but they’d also have to talk to every student who was in one of her classes. They’d also need Claire to confirm that Ms. Glover hadn’t been invited to Harold’s party.

  The bubbles in my pot rose up the sides, reminding me to pay attention. I turned the heat down. Scorched hot cocoa tasted worse than the cheapest packaged hot chocolate brand.

  “They’ll want to start with Janie and you,” Dan said.

  He still didn’t understand. He thought whatever was going on between Jarrod and I could be easily fixed. He thought that whatever trouble I’d gotten myself into, I could get out of with his and Jarrod’s help. He might even think that testifying against Ms. Glover was the way to get leniency for whatever hypothetical crimes I’d committed.

  He had no idea I’d be long gone by morning.

  Except… “Do you think they’ll need my testimony to convict her?”

  Dan slid down off the counter, his long legs making the drop barely noticeable. “Depends on how much other evidence they can find. If more than one child speaks up and if they can find a grocery store recipe showing she bought the ketchup, you won’t be as important.”

  I turned off the heat under the pot and filled two mugs. Dan motioned for me to bring them to the breakfast nook. I followed him and set them on the table, but I didn’t sit.

  Not as important wasn’t the same as not important or not needed.

  “I can’t stay and testify. I can’t even give the police a statement.”

  He gave me a smile that I imagined had disarmed the defenses of many criminals while he was undercover. “We can ask the district attorney to give you immunity for the fake ID. Your husband—”

  “My husband is the reason I can’t stay. Not now that he knows where I am.” Unfortunately for Dan, I was warier than most criminals, and that was saying something.

  “Okay.” Dan nudged my mug of hot cocoa toward the other side of the table. “Will you at least sit? You’re making me feel like you’re going to run if I blink wrong.”

  My whole body ached from being tensed to do just that. I lowered into the chair across from him and slid the mug of cocoa toward me. “Maybe not if you blink wrong.”

  Dan’s smile this time was less charming but more genuine, like this one came from his heart rather than from his head.

  Seeing it brought my shields down a little more.

  “Do you want to tell me why you’re working so hard to hide?” he asked.

  I did and I didn’t. I did because I wanted him to know that I wasn’t overreacting. And I didn’t because he might think I was overreacting. He was a cop. The thin blue line wasn’t only a cliché. It was something they lived by.

  I wasn’t completely sure that the few days he’d known me would be enough to guarantee he’d take my side instead of another officer of the law’s. Having him stick up for me today had sent a warmth into my middle that went deeper than the hot cocoa could reach, and it felt too good to risk shattering that feeling so soon.

  I shook my head. “Not yet.” I added the yet as an olive branch.

  Dan finally took a drink from his mug. His eyes drifted shut. “You’re right. I am going to be spoiled.
It’s a good thing Janie didn’t try this or I’d never hear the end of why couldn’t I make hot cocoa like Isabel.” He set the mug back down, but didn’t let go of the handle, as if he didn’t want to risk me taking it away. “Are you willing to work together on this to find a solution?”

  I didn’t know how to do this talking-to-a-man-as-an-equal thing. With my dad, I’d been his daughter even when I was his caretaker. With Jarrod, I couldn’t have a discussion. He gave orders, and I was expected to follow them.

  “I’m willing to try.”

  He paused for another drink of hot cocoa. “Glover probably won’t take a plea deal. She has to know it won’t go well for her in prison for a child crime. If this goes to court, we’ll need your testimony to corroborate what Janie says about Ms. Glover trying to kill her tonight.”

  Otherwise it would be a teacher’s word against a student. Ms. Glover’s defense attorney could argue that Janie got caught sneaking snacks before the play and didn’t want to be punished for it. They could also bring in that Janie had already been reprimanded at school for lying. Even though it was Ms. Glover who said Janie lied, the teacher’s assistant had believed her at the time.

  That alone wouldn’t be enough to create reasonable doubt, but it opened a door. Ms. Glover’s defense attorney would only need to find a few more inches to fling that door wide and she’d walk out of it a free woman.

  The problem was if I stayed, I’d be dead before trial anyway. “My plan was to start over. New name. New career. New town.”

  Dan looked down into the depths of his mug. “Because of your husband.”

  “Because of my husband.”

  He looked back up, and his expression was hard to read again. Even understanding why he’d developed that ability, it was a frustrating quality. Even Nicole would have had a hard time reading him and she seemed to be a human barometer.

  “Will it be that easy for you to stop baking?”

  It’d be like losing the last piece of my identity. “I wish you hadn’t called Jarrod.”

  Dan’s Adam’s apple pulsed in his throat. “I didn’t tell him the name you were using here or about your business.”