She started putting cupcakes on Angie’s tray while Angie took a sip of the iced tea she’d left behind the tower. Mel was halfway done when the sound of a door slamming boomed down the hallway.
She glanced around with the rest of the people in the lobby and saw Mariel Mars stomping toward them as if she wished someone’s head was beneath the spiky points of her heels.
“Ms. Mars!” a voice called after her. “Wait!”
Mel and Ginny exchanged a glance before they both leaned forward. They knew that voice. It was Joyce and she was running after Mariel.
As if aware of the lobby watching her, Mariel came to an abrupt stop and appeared to force her lips into a smile that came out more like a grimace.
“I’m sorry, Ms.—” Mariel shrugged as if Joyce’s name was of no importance and continued. “I really have nothing more to say.”
Joyce was breathing hard as she stopped in front of the judge.
“But these scores,” Joyce said, holding a sheet of paper out to her. “They’re so incredibly low. They could knock Lupe out of the first round of the competition.”
“So?” Mariel asked, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder.
And that’s when Mel saw it. The hellfire that was normally banked in her mother’s hazel-blue eyes crackled to life. The only other time Mel had seen her mother ignite like this was when someone went after Mel or her brother, Charlie.
“So?” Joyce repeated as if talking to a half wit. “None of the other judges scored her anywhere near as low as you did.”
“I have higher standards,” Mariel said. She examined her manicure as if it were infinitely more interesting than the conversation she was having.
“Perhaps,” Joyce said. “Or maybe you’re cheating.”
Nine
“How dare you!” Mariel gasped as if she’d been struck.
“That was a bad move,” Ginny said to Mel. “Now Mariel’s going to have a hissy fit and her hissy fits are the stuff of legend.”
“Should we call someone?” Mel asked.
“Let’s wait until we see bloodshed,” Ginny said. Then she smiled. “I always love to watch your mother when she gets her back up. She’s just as cute as a hedgehog until she bites.”
Mel moved to step forward but Angie held her back with a hand on her elbow. “I’m with Ginny on this one. ‘Let us see what Squirt does flying solo.’”
“You’re quoting Finding Nemo now?” Mel asked.
Angie tipped her head in the direction of the altercation and made a shushing noise.
“I will not stand for this!” Mariel sputtered. She lashed out and kicked over a nearby chair.
“Fine,” Joyce said. “I’m just as happy to sit. Oh, well, I would have until you started kicking over the furniture. For goodness sake, act your age!”
“Ah!” Mariel gasped and Mel suspected she thought that was an age slam when really it was just a mom thing to say.
“I will not tolerate being called a cheater.” Mariel leaned forward until her face was inches from Joyce’s.
“Then make it right,” Joyce said through gritted teeth. She didn’t back up but rather leaned forward until the two women were nose-to-nose.
“Mrs. Cooper, Joyce,” Lupe implored. “Please don’t go to any trouble for me.”
Mel glanced at Lupe, who had joined the ladies, and again she was struck by how lovely the young woman beneath the dyed fringe and baggy black clothes was. Today she was in a delicate floral lace sheath dress in a pretty shade of turquoise with beige open-toed pumps. She looked as if she should be strutting down the runway at a fashion show.
“Wow,” Angie said, echoing Mel’s thoughts exactly.
“If Oz were here right now, he’d stroke out,” Mel said, and Angie nodded.
“It’s no trouble, Lupe,” Joyce said. She stepped back from Mariel and yanked on the lapels of her plum-colored jacket. “I have already called Cici Hastings and plan to have her go over these scores. Maybe she can shed some light on why Mariel’s scores are thirty points lower than all of the other judges.”
“You dare to question me?” Mariel’s nostrils flared.
“When your scores are so out of whack?” Joyce asked. “You bet I do. Oh, and we’ll be checking to see if you did this to every contestant or just Lupe.”
Mariel stepped around Joyce. She looked Lupe over with a sneer that lifted the corner of her upper lip, making her look as vicious as a wild dog about to attack.
“You don’t belong here,” Mariel hissed. “Just because you combed your hair and they shoved you in a nice dress does not make you worthy of the title of Miss Sweet Tiara and you know it.”
Lupe ducked her head and her curtain of thick black hair swept forward, covering her face. Shame poured off of her in waves, and Mel felt her stomach clench in sympathy. She wanted to smack the smirk right off of Mariel’s face.
Angie stiffened beside her, and Mel was afraid that Angie would launch herself at Mariel. Ginny and Mel each put a hand on Angie’s arms, holding her back. Much as Mel wanted to jump in as well, she knew this wasn’t their fight and if it turned ugly, it would put an end to Lupe’s dreams of a scholarship, which would do her no good at all.
Joyce reached out and cupped Lupe’s chin. She raised the girl’s head until Lupe met her gaze.
“Do not listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Joyce said. Mariel squawked in protest, but Joyce kept going, drowning her out. “They would be lucky to have a young woman like you wearing their crown. Now show me the beauty that I know is in there.”
Lupe nodded and straightened her back. She blinked as if to keep back her tears and she tipped her chin up. Her smile was brave and all the more beautiful because Mel knew it was costing her on a soul level.
Mariel made a derisive snort and muttered, “Trash.”
Joyce whipped around and leveled Mariel with a glare. “Do not speak to her. You don’t even deserve to be in the same room with her. And mark my words, I’m going to have you removed from the panel of judges.”
“You don’t have that kind of power,” Mariel sniped.
“She doesn’t,” Ginny said as she stepped forward. “But I do.”
Mariel glared. “Oh, please. Now I have two dried-up old prunes coming after me? You have no power, Ginny Lobo. You’re just a drunk and she’s your silly sidekick. The two of you are pathetic and the only reason you’re even allowed to be here is because your husband is loaded.”
“Don’t talk to them like that,” Lupe snapped. “They’re ladies while you—you’re just a bitter, nasty has-been.”
Mariel’s eyes narrowed and she stepped forward, but Ginny and Joyce pushed Lupe behind them, blocking Mariel’s path.
“You just made a powerful enemy, young lady,” Mariel sneered.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Lupe said. “And if you go after my friends, I’ll make you pay. I swear I will.”
There was the skateboarding daredevil Mel knew and loved. She and Angie went to stand with the others. Mariel now had a group of five to contend with and no one running to her side.
“You? Make me pay? Ha!” Mariel said. “I’d like to see you try it.”
Lupe glared. She pushed past Ginny and Joyce.
“Make no mistake,” Lupe said. “Hurt them and I’ll hurt you—more.”
“Are you threatening me?” Mariel asked. She spun away from them and yelled across the lobby. “Witnesses! I need witnesses! This contestant just threatened to hurt me because she didn’t like her scores!”
“She did not.” Joyce protested.
“I heard it, too,” a voice said from across the lobby. The vomiting mom, Brittany Richards, and her daughter Destiny were at the far end of the lobby. Brittany scurried forward, giving Mariel an ingratiating smile.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Ginny snapped.
“You couldn’t have heard a word she said from all the way over there.”
“I have exceptional hearing,” Brittany said.
Her daughter followed her, and while Brittany fussed over Mariel as if she’d been the victim of a mugging, Destiny looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. Mel thought the idea had distinct possibilities.
“Are you all right?” Brittany asked Mariel, loud enough for everyone within a one-hundred-yard radius to hear. “You look a bit faint.”
“I’ll be fine,” Mariel said. Then she leaned close to their group and hissed, “This isn’t over. You’ll be tossed from this competition if it’s the last thing I do.”
Ginny stepped forward. “Try it. I double dare you.”
Maybe it was the alcohol on her breath or the crazy light in her eyes, but Mariel spun away from Ginny. Brittany fell in behind her like a good little sycophantic minion, yanking Destiny behind her as she went.
“Well, shoot. I’d better find Cici first, so I can remind her of how much money I’m kicking into this shindig,” Ginny said. “Come on, Lupe, Joyce, we’ve got some damage control to do.”
“Can you control it?” Joyce asked worriedly.
“I may have Cici remind Mariel that she can be replaced. Oh, and I know just the woman, too. Anka Holland wanted very much to be a judge in the pageant. That would really chap Mariel’s uppity behind.”
“Who is Anka Holland?” Lupe asked.
“The bane of Mariel’s existence,” Ginny said. “Anka was always one step behind Mariel, always breathing down her neck on the pageant circuit. Anka managed to beat Mariel a few times, but Mariel always won the big titles. Anka is the only one who gave Mariel any competition and Mariel still hates her for it.
“Of course, Anka is no fan of Mariel’s, either. I remember when Mariel took the title of Miss Glitz from Anka back in their heyday. It was not pretty. There had been some sabotage in the dressing room. Someone smeared Anka’s evening gown with lipstick while Mariel’s bathing suit was found to have itching powder in it. They each blamed the other but no one could prove it.”
Ginny led the others away, and Mel and Angie watched them go.
“I don’t know about you, but I have a really bad feeling about this,” Mel said.
Angie looked thoughtful. “Agreed. There was something off about that whole scene. I mean, I got the feeling Mariel wanted Lupe to come after her.”
“I did, too,” Mel said. “The question is why.”
Ten
The next day, Mel was back at her cupcake tower while the judging of the swimsuit competition went on poolside. They had a pretty good vantage point from their corner of the lobby. She saw Lupe with Joyce. Lupe was wearing a robe and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Mel understood completely. This would have ranked right up there in her top worst nightmares as a teen, coming in second only to showing up naked to class.
Angie was again working the crowd in the lobby. She seemed to have made a few friends and Mel saw her chatting up people as she passed out the cupcakes. Today’s specialty was the Pretty in Pink, a strawberry cupcake with a dollop of vanilla buttercream rolled in bright pink sprinkles around the edges.
Cici Hastings was working her way through the lobby. She looked amazing in an emerald silk blouse and black capri pants with her hair and makeup done to perfection.
Mel knew that the minimum amount of personal maintenance required to stay as well preserved as Cici meant that she would never look anywhere near that good at any age, but still, Mel hoped she had a little of the pizzazz Cici had when she was in her advanced years.
“Looking good, Cici,” she called as the older lady went by her.
“Thanks,” Cici paused. “Have you seen Mariel? We were supposed to start the swimsuit competition fifteen minutes ago, but she hasn’t shown up yet.”
“No, come to think of it, I haven’t seen her all morning,” Mel said. She had been surprised, too, because after yesterday’s kerfuffle in the lobby, she had fully expected Mariel to make another scene today.
“She’s probably sulking.” Cici sighed. “A total diva, that one.”
“Why would she be sulking?” Mel asked.
“Because in reviewing her scores from yesterday, it became apparent that she is playing favorites. She lowballed anyone who might provide competition for her chosen one, especially Lupe Guzman, who was scoring very high with the other two judges,” Cici said. “So I made the decision to throw out every contestant’s lowest score and I let her know I’d do it again, too. That should keep the voting honest.”
“Nicely done,” Mel said.
“I thought so, except now I have a big poutypants for a head judge and I really don’t have the time or patience for it,” Cici said. “Honestly, I should have brought Anka Holland in as the judge, but given that she was always number two to Mariel’s number one spot on the pageant circuit, Mariel seemed to be the better choice. Ugh, live and learn.”
“Can I help you look for her?” Mel asked. “I can check the prep rooms.”
“Oh, would you?” Cici asked. “Then I could cover the same ground twice as fast.”
“No problem,” Mel said. She turned and signaled to Angie that she was going to leave the tower. Angie nodded in understanding. Mel knew that Angie would come and keep an eye on the goods for her.
Mel and Cici split up in the main lobby, with Mel taking one side and Cici the other. Mel entered the large room that was used for a dressing room. Several harried-looking mothers and their daughters were in there prepping their bathing suits for showtime.
One exasperated-looking woman was using double-stick tape on her daughter’s bottom to keep the young woman’s swimsuit from riding up. The girl didn’t seem fazed as she stood texting on her smartphone, and Mel looked away, feeling embarrassed for the both of them.
She glanced around the room, got pushed aside by another mother and daughter bolting out the door, leaned against the wall, and looked for a head of dark hair and a frowning face. She simply could not envision Mariel with a smile.
She checked the next two rooms, but still no Mariel. Mel crossed the hall and continued checking, opening every door on her way back to the lobby. Some rooms were empty and some were full of people, but there was no one who resembled the missing judge.
She hoped Cici had better luck. She was closing the door to the last room when an ear-piercing shriek sounded from the lobby. Mel knew that shriek. She had heard it every time she, Angie, and Tate had ridden the Zipper at the Arizona State Fair. It wasn’t Tate and it wasn’t her, so that left—Angie!
Mel ran to the lobby. Her heart was pounding, her hands were sweating, and she could feel the icy clutch of dread grabbing at her as she came around the corner.
What could have happened to make Angie scream like that? Had someone knocked over the cupcake tower? Did Angie get into a fight? Had Tate broken up with her?
When Mel reached the lobby a crowd was forming around the cupcake table. She saw Lupe and her mother on the fringe and yelled, “What happened?”
Joyce gave her a scared look and for the first time in months she spoke directly to Mel, “I don’t know, honey. We can’t get in there.”
Mel glanced at the crowd that was five deep ahead of her. There were shrieks and gasps but no one was moving. She used her elbows and began to force her way through the crowd.
When she reached the front, she stopped in her tracks. Angie was kneeling on the floor, holding up the navy blue tablecloth that covered their circular table.
A head of dark hair was sticking out from under the cloth. It was Mariel Mars, and Mel knew with the unwelcome knowledge that comes from seeing too many bodies up close and personal that she was dead.
Eleven
“Finding the body is not my job,” Angie said. “That’s supposed to be you.”
Mel put an arm around her friend’s sho
ulders. She knew it was shock making Angie babble.
“I wouldn’t say it was my job exactly,” Mel said. “Did you call the police?”
“Lydia is on it,” Angie said. She gestured to the far side of the table and Mel saw Lydia, the pretty woman from the front desk, on her cell phone. She looked stressed as she paced back and forth in the narrow area.
“Are you sure she’s dead?” Mel asked.
Angie gestured for Mel to look closer. Mel took a deep breath and leaned over Mariel’s still form.
There was no rise and fall to her chest. No warmth coming off of her body. Her bloodshot eyes were unseeing. A wide pink satin sash was wrapped around her neck and Mel could see scratch marks along her throat, as if she’d been clawed by something or someone.
“The police are on their way,” Lydia said as she crouched beside them. “I’ve had security paged to move the crowd out of the lobby.”
As she spoke, a big burly man in a navy blue uniform with a radio on his hip arrived and began pushing the crowd back. Lydia rose to go and speak with him.
“How did you find her?” Mel asked.
“I dropped a cupcake,” Angie said. “When I couldn’t find it, I thought it rolled under the table. When I lifted the cloth, there she was.”
“That was quite a scream you let out,” Mel said. “I’m pretty sure they heard you all the way out to the main road.”
“And I’m pretty sure I’m going to have nightmares tonight and for many nights after,” Angie said. She shuddered and lowered the cloth, letting it fall carefully around Mariel’s middle.
“Melanie, Angela, what’s happening?” Joyce Cooper hissed. She ignored the arm of the security guard as he tried to keep her back.
They looked from Joyce to the body. Mel wasn’t comfortable leaving but she didn’t really want to keep watch, either.
“It’s all right,” Lydia said, rejoining them beside the body. “Go talk to her. I’ll stay with—her. I can’t get any more freaked out than I already am.”
Sugar and Iced (Cupcake Bakery Mystery) Page 6