by Holly Plum
"Did I miss something?" Detective Sugar pushed through the crowd and nudged Joy on the shoulder.
“Arrest her,” Joy replied, pointing to Susan. "Don't let her leave."
"You there!" the detective shouted at Susan. "Now, wait just a minute." He turned to Joy and Maple. "Do you have any proof?"
"She tied Maple up in the freezer," Joy said angrily. "What more proof do you need?"
"Yeah," Maple added. "And she has a gun. She almost killed us, detective!"
"Susan told us with her own mouth that she killed Janet because of that locket," Joy continued. "Janet was going to turn her in so she pushed Janet out of the window when no one was paying attention."
"Don't blame my cake for stealing everyone's attention," Maple chimed in again.
Joy shook her head and grabbed the locket from Maple. She asked Detective Sugar for a pocket knife, and then shoved the tip of the knife into the latch. It quickly sprang open.
"Easy as pie," Joy muttered.
“I loosened it for you,” Maple said.
Inside the locket was a small piece of paper rolled up into a tight cylinder. Detective Sugar removed and carefully unrolled it. Inside was a note in dark black calligraphy: 19B. The detective gave Joy a congratulatory slap on the back and made his way over to Susan. Joy watched with confusion. A number? What did it mean?
“You killed Janet,” Willow went on. "Just admit it."
“You're insane,” Susan protested.
“And you're under arrest,” Detective Sugar concluded, grabbing Susan's arms and throwing cuffs on her.
The crowd gasped, looking around in confusion.
Charles squawked proudly.
“The locket you found was a tip-off,” Detective Sugar explained to Willow. “Inside it was a note with the number of a locker down by the beach. It was the very locker that was raided yesterday by our drug squad. They found it completely stuffed full with illegal drugs. I suppose Susan here was waiting for the tip-off so she could go on and sell the drugs which is why she was so agitated that she couldn't find the locket."
The detective passed Susan over to a police officer. Susan had been guilty all along, and poor Janet had gotten stuck in the middle. Joy wondered how the day would have gone if Janet hadn't threatened to turn Susan in for a lot less than dealing drugs. So much for following the rules.
***
The next morning, the storm had subsided, and the guests of the Diamond Shell Hotel were free to go. Light glistened over the soaked debris that littered the beach and the roadways. The hotel had stood up against the storm with very little damage. A marble statue on the deck had fallen oven, but somehow it hadn't cracked. The world famous gardens remained impeccable and seemed completely untouched. Not a branch was broken, nor a twig out of place. The beach was littered with driftwood, fence posts, and trash. The surrounding area suffered from fallen trees.
Joy and Sara Beth agreed to meet back at Patty Cakes Bake Shop. Although they were both sleep deprived and rattled from the night before, Joy wanted to assess any damage down to the bakery right away.
Joy took a detour to pick up Cheesecake from her home. She prepared herself to find him up a tree, in the attic, or buried beneath some rubble. At the very least, Joy knew he would be upset with her for being away during the storm. Instead, what she found was even worse. Joy couldn't find her cat at all. Joy called for him in the kitchen. She called for him outside as she stood on the beach, surrounded by broken palm leaves. She tried under the couch, inside the attic, and every closet. No Cheesecake. As panic started to set in, Joy paced back and forth in front of her bedroom mirror.
“Please Cheesecake, come on out,” she pleaded in a whisper.
As though in reply, Joy heard a sound. She spun around, looking for its source. The sound came again. It was a soft rustling, followed by a small meow. Cheesecake emerged from under the bed. His face popped out first. He was sleepy-eyed, and his fluff looked disheveled. It looked as though he had been passed out for hours.
“Cheesecake!” Joy exclaimed. She raced over and hugged him tightly, flipping him over and cradling him like a baby. Cheesecake purred and batted at her face with soft paws to say hello.
“Were you scared by the storm? Don't worry. I'm home now, little guy." Joy cooed.
Cheesecake flipped himself out of Joy's arms and pranced toward the food bowl where Joy happily gave him extra kibbles for his bravery. Joy took Cheesecake with her to the bake shop, vowing never to leave his side again. That was fine with him. Cheesecake loved the smell of baking pastries and the treats he got by intimidating the regular customers.
“I can't believe the night we had,” Sara Beth said as she wiped down the display case. "You especially."
“Tell me about it," Joy responded. "Maple was useless.” She paused for a moment, and then asked cautiously, “Where were you while I was running for my life through the kitchen?”
“Um,” Sara Beth tried to sound casual as she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a huge bottle of sweet tea. “I might have been off somewhere with Lenny."
Joy raised her eyebrows, and Sara Beth gave her a swift scowl.
“It's not what you think," Sara Beth went on. "We were comparing robes.”
Joy held up her hands. “I don't want to know the details.”
“Joy,” Sara Beth squealed. “It wasn't like that at all.”
Their banter was interrupted as the bakery door swung open and the bell jingled.
“Bridget!” Sara Beth and Joy exclaimed at once.
Somehow, Bridget looked very well-rested. One uncooperative strand of hair was the only thing out of place. And Bridget even put that down to the humidity from the storm, rather than the trauma of her bridal shower.
“Ladies, hello.” Bridget clapped her hands happily, her jewelry clanging loudly on her wrists and fingers. “I just had to pop in to say thank you for everything you did for me.”
“Of course,” Joy responded.
“You saved my sister's life; I guess you could say.” Bridget reached out and put a hand on Joy's shoulder in gratitude.
“She would've done the same," Joy replied, unsure if it was true. "But really we were all lucky that Susan turned out to be a horrible shot."
Joy could barely remember her conversation with Willow. It paled in comparison to the drama of being shot at and finding out Susan had been the killer. She could barely even remember serving cake to everyone.
“Willow told me that you gave her a shoulder to cry on," Bridget said. "She says that luck is suddenly on her side now, so she's going to turn things around. I can't thank you enough."
“Oh.” Joy smiled politely. “You're welcome.”
Joy didn't feel all that overwhelmed with pride about the counseling she had given Willow, but she was truly glad that the sisters were getting along and had begun to repair their relationship. At least something good had come from the dramas of the bridal shower.
“So, listen.” Bridget leaned against the counter. “I want you to make my wedding cake.”
“Really?” Joy replied loudly.
“Yes, Joy. I want you to design and make my wedding cake." Bridget nodded.
“I'd be glad to do it.” Joy could barely believe what she was hearing. After the panic at the end of night, Joy had almost completely forgotten about how badly she wanted to land Bridget Clarke as a client.
“Please, keep your voice down,” Bridget said quietly. “Willow told me that Maple once came in here and sabotaged your air conditioner. She could have bugged the place, you know? She could be listening to everything you say in here. Stealing recipes. Stealing customers. She could plan to sabotage my wedding for all I know.”
“Oh no.” Sara Beth cringed. "Don't put thoughts in Joy's head." The last thing Sara Beth needed was for Joy to have any more paranoid thoughts about Maple McWayne and The Sugar Room. But it was too late.
“I hadn't thought of that,” Joy whispered. “But I bet you're right. That would explain so mu
ch."
Bridget pointed to the light fixture on the ceiling, and Joy glared at it. She nodded and made a mental note to call Sam Sparks the electrician to thoroughly check out all of her fixtures for spy equipment.
“Okay, see you later,” Bridget said loudly and cheerfully, making her way to the door. Joy walked with her, and Bridget whispered, “Your flavors were perfectly balanced. Maple's were a little too aggressive.”
“Much like Maple herself,” Joy whispered back.
Joy smiled, satisfied that her cake really wasn't too sweet after all.
A Preview of UNTIL DEATH DO US TART by Holly Plum
CHAPTER ONE
Five minutes from the sugar sands of the Florida coast was a sweet little town, and it was just a slow walk down humid Main Street to the pink lacquered doors of Patty Cakes Bake Shop. Inside was a blast of air conditioning and an irresistible display of sweets of all kinds. Some were a little lopsided, but others were so perfect it was as though they had been lifted out of a baking magazine and popped right into the case.
In the back of the shop was a modest kitchen where Joy Cooke was whisking egg whites and sugar by hand. She had a smear of cocoa on her cheek, flour dusted her apron, and flecks of confectioner's sugar made her dark hair look prematurely gray for a woman in her mid-thirties. A stand mixer sat motionless on the bench. Joy paused to crack another egg white into the bowl and stretched her wrist before resuming her ferocious whisking with all of her might. She was determined to beat the whites into a stiff meringue, or to at least work some of her stress out trying.
Joy had woken very early that day with a feeling that something was coming. It wasn't quite dread, but it was close. She couldn't shake it – she'd felt all day as though something was brewing, hovering over her; as though she had left sweet buns to rise somewhere and they were all going to fall flat if she didn't tend to them soon. But there was nothing she was meant to do. She had spent the day checking and double-checking everything she did, opening and closing every drawer, double counting the change she gave customers, and keeping track of everything she sold. She shook her head and sighed, quickening her whisking to an unbelievable speed. She had no idea what could be giving her such anxiety.
Sara Beth, Joy's assistant, stood in the doorway with a hand on her hip and the other holding a jumbo cup of iced tea. She was a Southern belle who had swanned into the bakery six months before and talked her way into a job. Though Sara Beth was charming enough that she could convince anyone to do anything, Joy had no regrets about having hired her. Sara Beth was the best assistant Joy could have hoped for. She was talkative, creative, and most of all – loyal.
“You know, ma'am,” Sara Beth took a sip of her tea and let the straw pop off her lips in a way that always meant I'm about to tell it like it is, “I believe there is a faster way to make meringue. One that won't give you arthritis.” Sara Beth took another sip and motioned with her head towards the neglected mixer in the corner.
Joy looked up and smiled, shaking her head. “You know what I always say, Sara Beth. Mama's recipes are –”
“Recipes for success,” they said in unison. Sara Beth rolled her eyes but laughed, which always made Joy smile. In the time she'd known her assistant, Sara Beth had brought a bright light into the bakery that was much needed.
Joy's mother, Patty, had started a home bakery when Joy was young. Joy's earliest memories were of helping squeeze oranges for her mother's signature yellow Florida cake with cream cheese and marmalade frosting. By the time Joy was ten years old, her mom had sold enough cakes, tarts and cookies to set up her own bake shop downtown. “The real deal,” Patty had called it as they'd stood together on the street, holding hands and watching the sign writer put the finishing touches on the cursive Patty Cakes Bake Shop sign.
The shop had become a raging success as soon as it had opened. Patty had joked that it was always hot in the kitchen because the door swung open every five seconds. Since Patty had unexpectedly passed away two years ago, the regulars had stayed loyal to the bakery even though Joy Cooke often had a hard time living up to her mother's name. Joy followed Patty's foolproof recipes down to the letter. Including a handwritten note her mother had jotted down when the bake shop had first opened. The note said to hand mix everything.
Joy sighed as she beat the eggs, wondering if she'd ever really live up to either part of her name – the Joy or the Cooke. Joy's bemoaning was cut short by the chime of the bell above the front door. She and Sara Beth looked at each other.
Sara Beth cocked her head to the side. “Could she really be that early?”
She could.
Crystal Stone pushed open the pink doors of Patty Cakes Bake Shop with all her might and felt immediately relieved by the energy in the room. Or maybe it was the cool blast of air conditioning. Crystal was a firm believer in karma, and reading messages from the universe. Whether it was cool vibes or cool air conditioning, Crystal was sure she was in the right place. Her necklaces and bracelets jingled as she walked into the shop. Sara Beth popped out from the kitchen.
“I'm early," Crystal announced. "I know I'm such a pain, but I was meditating this morning like I always do and I have a very strong feeling that I need to re-try these cakes immediately. That's why I'm early.”
Sara Beth stood smiling for a moment to process Crystal's request.
“Of course, ma'am. Come on in. We've set up a table for you.” Luckily, Sara Beth had not left her southern hospitality in Mississippi when she'd moved to Florida.
She led Crystal to the bay window and the largest table in the shop, which Joy had decorated with white linen and lilies in preparation for the cake tasting.
“Would you like to wait for your fiancé here while we get the new samples ready?” Sara Beth asked.
Crystal inhaled as she sat, and put a hand to her heart. “No, Lucas won't be joining me.”
“Oh, my. Is everything alright?”
Crystal reached out and touched Sara Beth's hand. Her engagement ring had spun around on her finger, and the gigantic amethyst stone dug into Sara Beth's palm. “We're right as rain, darling. He's working late and couldn't make it today. I'm always early, and he's always late. That's how it seems to go with us. I'm up at dawn to teach yoga, and he's out at night with clients.”
"So sorry to hear that." Sara Beth tutted sympathetically and carefully pulled her hand back. She lay a cloth napkin on Crystal's lap.
“Stress is a manageable thing, Sara Beth,” Crystal inhaled and exhaled loudly, “You just have to breathe through it. Breathe with me, Sara Beth.”
Joy had raced to the bathroom to make herself look more presentable, leaving her egg whites to deflate into a gloopy mess. She joined Sara Beth looking a little rough around the edges with her tightly curled hair never behaving quite the way she wished it would.
“Hi there, Crystal," Joy greeted her client. "It's good to see you again."
It wasn't a pleasure. This was the fourth time Crystal had changed her mind about the cake she wanted for her wedding, and her wedding date was right around the corner. Joy needed Crystal to decide on a flavor today and stick to it if she was going to prepare the cake in time.
“Joy, what a joy you are.” Crystal stood to kiss Joy on each cheek.
“Is Lucas on his way?” Joy asked.
“No, but it's probably better that way. He's so stressed about the wedding that he's oozing with negative vibes at the moment. We don't want those around my wedding cake.” Crystal took a deep breath.
All Joy knew about Crystal's fiancé Lucas was that he'd liked the last four cakes just fine. She smiled politely as Sara Beth presented the samples for Crystal to taste.
The first cake sample was a red velvet cake. The flavor that Crystal had decided was the one she wanted last week. Normally, the red color of the cake appeared when traditional cocoa, vinegar, and buttermilk reacted. But Crystal's dietary requirements meant that no dairy could be used in the cake, leaving Joy to create the red color by using beet puree
. Joy was particularly proud of her substitution, having licked the bowl clean herself.
“It's just ... my intuition says this isn't perfect,” Crystal sighed, placing her fork down after a small bite.
“Alright, on to the next.” Sara Beth quickly passed Crystal a slice of lemon poppy seed cake. It was spongy, light, and delicate. Crystal took a bite and closed her eyes as the cake melted in her mouth. It was the perfect of amount of tartness mixed with the perfect amount of sweetness. But it was too spongey for Crystal's taste.
Next, there was a vanilla cake with salted caramel. The saltiness balanced perfectly with the sweet, sticky caramel, but Crystal insisted the salt was too beachy. Since the wedding was at an elegant beachside manor, she didn't want her guests thinking they were eating sand. Joy tried not to take offense.
The macadamia and coconut cake was almost a hit before Crystal remembered that Lucas was allergic to macadamia nuts.
It was during the tasting of the orange pistachio cake that Crystal looked up at the framed photograph of Joy's mom above the cash register. She stopped chewing and swallowed deeply, her eyes on the portrait.
“This woman.” Crystal let out a long sigh as if it were her personal duty to deliver some kind of message from the other side. “She has passed on, am I right?”
Joy nodded, her hand placed on her heart. She'd seen psychics on television but had never visited one before. Joy preferred to keep her head out of the clouds. But her pulse raced at the idea that her mom might be trying to send her a message. Maybe that's why she had been feeling different all day.
“I'm in the process of developing my psychic gifts," Crystal continued. "Let me see.” Before Joy had a chance to reply, Crystal held up her hand and began. “The woman in the photo was your ... um ... I'm getting something.”
Crystal closed her eyes, hummed in a high-pitched tune, and made a face like she'd just eaten a lemon tart that was a little too sour.
Sara Beth cleared her throat.