by Annie Tipton
“Well, my cupcakes are already in the oven, and it looks like you could use a little help.” Chef Tabby sets the pan on the counter and places a liner in each of the dozen cupcake wells.
“Sure. That’s—uh—great. Thank you,” Chef EJ stammers as she tries to remain focused. “Put in one scoop of cake batter for each of the cupcakes,” she says, handing Chef Tabby an ice-cream scoop, and then adds, “please.”
“Right away, chef!” Tabby grins and salutes EJ with the scoop before getting to work.
“Ninety seconds!” the announcer voice says.
“Yeah, GOT IT!” Chef EJ yells back.
EJ turns off the mixer and removes the glass bowl just as Chef Tabby finishes adding the last of the batter to the pan. EJ spoons a dollop of cream filling on top of the batter of each cupcake.
“Oven is preheated to three fifty and ready to go, chef!” Tabby calls from the oven across the kitchen.
As she finishes the final dollop, EJ glances over the entire pan, pleased with the result. She closes her eyes and can already imagine what will come out of the oven: perfectly rounded domes of devil’s food hiding the surprise centers of heavenly chocolate cream. Her mouth starts to water.
“Chef! Ten seconds!” Tabby’s voice wakes EJ from her vision. “Nine … eight …”
EJ grabs the cupcake pan with two hands and runs toward the oven. One step, two steps.
“Five … four …” Chef Tabby counts with the clock, opening the oven door as EJ sprints her way.
Three steps, four steps—EJ reaches as far as she can to slide the cupcake pan into the oven. Tabby slams the door just as the clock reaches zero.
“Well done, chef,” Mom said, grabbing the wet dishcloth from the sink and wiping the flour from EJ’s forehead. “The judges are going to have a difficult time deciding a winner.”
Chapter 3
THE MYSTERIOUS CASE Of THE BIRTHDAY BARFS
June 16
Dear Diary,
Today is my eleventh birthday, and tonight is my par-tay! Mom and Mrs. Winkle have been super secretive about the details of the mystery dinner theater, but I know it will be awesome because it’s going to include people I love (family and friends), the food I love (lasagna and my award-winning cupcakes), and the things I love (we’re all going to be acting out a whodunit mystery during the party)!
The one thing I do know about the mystery setup is that I will be playing the part of detective EJ Holmes. I’m still working on my costume, but Mr. Johnson let me borrow a magnifying glass he uses when he works on his stamp collection. The thing is legit.
Nana and Pops arrived from Ohio in their Winnebago camper late last night. Mom and Dad let us stay up till they got here, but it was so late that Isaac and I both fell asleep on the couch. All I really remember was (sort of) waking up when Pops picked me up to carry me to my bed. And I was just wrapping my arms around Pops’s neck to give him a squeeze hello when I heard my brother wake up in classic Isaac style:
Isaac: [yawning] Knock-knock, Pops.
Pops: Who’s there, sport?
Isaac: Noah.
Pops: Noah who?
Isaac: Noah … good … joke? [snore]
Pops: [chuckling to himself] No, Isaac, I don’t Noah good joke. You know the only good one.
(I’ve really got to get that kid some new material.)
EJ
EJ pulled the deerstalker cap down on her forehead, held the magnifying glass up to her right eye, and peered at herself in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door.
“Quite good,” she said in her best British accent. “EJ Holmes, consulting detective, ready for a birthday mystery.”
EJ tied a tweed cape around her neck and glanced over her shoulder at Bert, who was sprawled on her bed. “Watson, old chap, come here for your costume,” she said, tucking the magnifying glass in the cape’s inside pocket.
Bert gave a little snort and didn’t move.
“Watson, I said come here,” EJ insisted.
Bert rolled over and stretched, his back toward EJ.
“Matthew Cuthbert T-Rex Payne, come!”
(EJ rarely used Bert’s full name—including the “T-Rex” part that Isaac gave him—unless she really meant business.)
Bert was up like a flash and next to EJ, on his back legs with his paws on her leg. EJ smiled and patted her friend on his furry head. “I guess you’re not used to being called Watson, huh? I’m Sherlock Holmes, and you’re my partner, John Watson. And it’s time for your costume.”
EJ plopped a dog-size bowler hat on Bert’s head, adjusting the band of elastic around his ears and under his chin. Attached to the brim of the hat was a monocle that rested perfectly against his snout and in front of his right eye.
“You look splendid, Dr. Watson!” EJ picked Bert up and looked in the mirror again to get the full effect.
“Miss Holmes and Dr. Watson, so good of you to join us!” Mom greeted EJ and Bert at the bottom of the stairs a few minutes later. Mom looked like she’d stepped right out of the 1920s, wearing a sleeveless purple-sequined flapper dress, her long blond hair in curls that were held back from her face by a headband made out of black feathers. Mom glanced down at the note card she had in her hand before continuing. “My name is Penny Pickpocket, and I am your hostess for tonight’s dinner. May I take your hats?”
EJ tried to stay in character, but she couldn’t help but crack a smile at Mom’s character name. She wasn’t going to let somebody with the last name of Pickpocket take anything of hers.
“Thank you, Penny, but I think we’ll keep our hats on,” EJ said, stooping to pat Bert on his bowler hat. “It’s part of the look we’re going for, right, Watson?”
Bert barked his agreement and ran in a circle next to EJ.
“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Mom said, putting one hand on EJ’s shoulder to direct her into the living room. EJ felt Mom’s other hand slip into her Sherlock cape pocket.
“Excuse me, Miss Pickpocket.” EJ spun around to see Mom staring through the magnifying glass at EJ with an innocent look on her face. “That’s mine. And I think you should keep your sticky fingers to yourself, Penny.”
“Sorry about that, but I know someone who would pay top dollar for a fine tool like this.” Mom’s magnified eye winked at EJ before she handed the glass back to her. “And it’s Mrs. Pickpocket. Allow me to introduce my husband, Peter Pickpocket.”
Dad stepped forward and caught EJ’s right hand in a firm two-handed shake. “We’ve heard so much about your mystery-solving abilities, Miss Holmes. Although, as you can see, none of us are shady characters, so hopefully we will just have a nice dinner together.”
Dad was wearing a rumpled brown suit, slicked-back hair, and fake gold rings on most of his fingers—definitely a shady character in EJ’s mind. She glanced down at her wrist to check the time, only to find her watch was missing.
“Looking for something, Holmes?”
EJ looked up to see Dad holding her wristwatch by its leather strap.
“The closure must’ve been loose,” Dad said, handing the watch back to EJ and running his hand through his hair. “It slipped right into my hand.”
“Quite a coincidence,” EJ said, squinting at Dad in a skeptical look. She pulled a tiny spiral notebook and pencil out of her cape and made a note:
1. Penny and Peter Pickpocket: steal things to sell for profit.
Next Mom introduced Nana and Pops as Victoria and Richard Rich, an extremely wealthy couple visiting from the East.
“Don’t you just love the way diamonds add sparkle to any outfit, darling?” Nana was really playing up the part of a rich lady, admiring the big, phony diamonds on her rings and in the multiple strands of diamonds around her neck.
“I wouldn’t know, Mrs. Rich,” EJ said. “I’ve never worn diamonds.”
“Oh!” Nana gasped and held the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic gesture. “Then you must try these on … but just for the evening. I’ll want them back,
of course.”
Nana slipped a necklace on her granddaughter’s neck. EJ did like how sparkly it was.
“Nothing’s too good for my Victoria,” Pops said a little stiffly, looking down at his note card. “I want her to be the most beautiful woman in the room, wherever she goes.” Pops looked pretty uncomfortable in his special-occasion suit, polished dress shoes, and bowtie.
EJ made another note in her notebook:
2. Victoria and Richard Rich: want to appear to have a lot of money—no matter what.
“I’m William Baker.” Mr. Johnson waved from his seat in the recliner. He looked down at his note card before continuing. “I’m about to open up my own bakery in town, and I would really like to get my hands on the cupcakes to see if I can steal the recipe and perfect it for my store.”
Mr. Johnson was wearing everyday clothes, with the addition of a leopard-print baker’s hat and apron that EJ recognized as a set Mrs. Winkle owned.
“Cupcakes are for dessert, Mr. Baker,” Mom said to Mr. Johnson. Then she whispered, “And that part of your card isn’t what you’re supposed to say, Lester. It’s supposed to tell you your motivation for the mystery.”
“My motivation is that I’m starving!” Mr. Johnson grunted.
EJ thought for a moment before adding to her notebook:
3. William Baker: hungry—for food and for his bakery to be a success.
“And this is Wildcard McGee,” Mom said as Isaac took a deep bow. Isaac was wearing green cowboy boots and Mom’s white bathrobe with big purple polka dots on it, a Superman cape pinned to the back of the robe. All that was bizarre enough, but what really put the outfit over the top was a pair of costume glasses with a fake nose, mustache, and eyebrows attached.
“Great to meet you, Holmes.” Isaac grabbed EJ’s hand and started pumping her arm like he was trying to bring water up from a well in an old-timey movie. “Do you have any spare acorn tops on you this evening?”
“Acorn tops? Um—no, I’m afraid I’m fresh out,” EJ said, not sure what to make of this strange character.
EJ quickly jotted another note:
4. Wildcard McGee:???
“No problem. I have an extra acorn top you can borrow.” Isaac reached into his pocket and pulled out the part of an acorn that looks like a little hat and dropped it into EJ’s outstretched hand. “Now, do this.” Isaac took out a second acorn top, held it between his thumbs and pointer fingers and blew into it, causing an ear-piercing whistle that made everyone in the room wince and plug their ears. Bert, who looked like he wished he could cover his ears but couldn’t, joined in the noise by howling at a similar pitch.
“And that delightful sound must mean dinner is served!” Mrs. Winkle said as she entered the living room. She was wearing a flouncy apron with pink and purple swirls all over it and had a pair of tongs in her hand.
“Miss Holmes, I’m Cookie Cookson, and I had the distinct pleasure of preparing tonight’s meal for us to enjoy.” Mrs. Winkle hugged EJ in a very Mrs. Winkle-y warm way and then added with a little edge to her voice, “Well, I prepared all but the dessert. Apparently some people think my baking skills aren’t good enough for the occasion.”
“If everyone would follow me into the dining area, we’ll get the meal under way,” Mom said, ushering the guests into the kitchen and eyeballing Nana’s diamonds with a wistful look in her eye.
EJ made another note as she followed the group to the table:
5. Cookie Cookson: bitter about not getting to make dessert.
“Cookie, you have really outdone yourself this time.” Mr. Johnson wiped his mouth with his napkin, which was tucked into the top of his apron. “Now, where is that dessert I heard about?”
Mrs. Winkle blushed at the compliment from Mr. Johnson before remembering to stay in character. “Oh, right … the dessert,” she said in an annoyed voice. “The cupcakes for tonight’s dessert were baked by two celebrity chefs, and we’re going to vote to choose a winner.”
There was a murmuring of interest around the table as Mrs. Winkle rose to get the dessert.
“No matter what, I’m voting chocolate,” EJ said, obviously trying to influence the vote.
“But sometimes vanilla really hits the spot,” Mom chimed in, playing the same game as EJ.
“Without any further ado, I give you Chef EJ’s Dreamstar Cupcakes and Chef Tabby’s Heaven-Sent Cupcakes!” Mrs. Winkle set a cake stand in the middle of the table and lifted the silver dome to reveal …
An empty tray.
“Nobody move!” EJ Holmes jumps up from her seat, magnifying glass in hand. “This is a crime scene, and you’re all guilty until I’ve proven you innocent!”
The guests look suspiciously at each other as EJ stands on her chair to inspect the empty cake stand.
“Aha! A clue!” EJ picks up a photo on the tray and peers at it through her magnifying class: a dozen beautiful cupcakes displayed on the cake stand—six devil’s food with fudge frosting, multicolored star-shaped sprinkles, and sparkle flecks, and six white cake with fluffy white frosting topped with a sprinkling of gorgeous edible pearls.
“One of you has stolen these delicious desserts, and it’s my job to find out who—and why.” EJ Holmes steps off the chair and walks around the table, looking at each suspect—one at a time—through the magnifying glass.
“William Baker,” EJ says, consulting her notes. “Your business depends on getting the very best baked goods to sell in your store. You had the motive to steal these cupcakes to uncover the secret recipes.”
“I don’t need to be some copycat!” William protests. “My baked goods are better than any that are out there!”
“Then there’s Mr. and Mrs. Pickpocket.” EJ moves down the table. “They would’ve seen the business potential of stealing some delicious cupcakes and then selling them to the highest bidder.”
Penny and Peter look shocked at the accusation.
“Or maybe you two have sticky fingers because you both have a sweet tooth, and you stole the cupcakes to eat them yourselves!” EJ adds.
“I admit those cupcakes do look mighty fancy,” Peter says. “But we deal only in precious metals, Miss Holmes. Gold. Silver. Jewels. Things that are worth real money.”
“In that case”—EJ glances at her notes and moves on to the next suspects—“Mr. Rich, you said you always want your wife to be the most beautiful woman in the room, no matter where she goes. Perhaps the cupcakes were outshining your wife, so you had to get rid of them!”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Miss Holmes,” Victoria Rich says, twisting a strand of pearls around her finger. “Those cupcakes are a poor man’s idea of wealth next to my sparkle. By the way, I’d like my diamonds back now.”
“I don’t like how they feel on my skin anyway. Here you go.” EJ removes the diamond strand from her neck and hands it back to Mrs. Rich.
“This never would’ve happened if I’d been allowed to make the dessert,” Cookie says, crossing her arms in disgust. “Celebrity chefs are all divas, and their fancy-pants desserts cause nothing but trouble.”
“And maybe, Cookie, just maybe … you stole the cupcakes to make your point!” EJ says, pointing her magnifying glass at Cookie with a dramatic flair.
“I most certainly did not,” Cookie says. “No matter how much I may dislike another chef, I would never sabotage her work. That is downright unprofessional.”
“Then, of course! Why didn’t I see it before?” EJ Holmes is desperate to figure out who is guilty. “Wildcard McGee must be guilty of the crime!” EJ looks at her notebook. “Except … well, to be honest, Wildcard, I have no idea who you are or what your motivation for stealing the cupcakes might be.”
“Because they are fun to throw in food fights!” Wildcard wiggles his eyebrows, causing his glasses/nose/mustache to move up and down on his face, making him look even sillier. “If I stole them, we’d all be covered in cake, frosting, and sprinkles right now.”
EJ scratches her head with her magnifying glass a
nd looks down at her notes. Not one of her suspects is guilty. Some detective she is turning out to be.
“Watson, what do you think?” EJ Holmes glances down at the floor. “Watson? Has anybody seen Watson?”
EJ kneels on the floor to search for her missing friend. Looking through the magnifying glass, she spies Watson’s dog dish in the corner, empty.
“Cookie, did you feed Watson at the same time you served our dinner tonight?” EJ asks.
“Not my department,” Cookie says, annoyed. “I feed people, not animals.”
Suddenly there is a scratching sound at the pantry door, followed by a sharp bark that EJ immediately recognizes as none other than …
“Watson stole the cupcakes!” EJ announced triumphantly as she opened the pantry door to find Bert inside, along with the tray of cupcakes. Bert jumped into EJ’s arms, his tail wagging as he licked her face.
Everyone at the table burst into applause and echoed a chorus of “Well done!” and “Good job!” EJ grinned and took a bow with Bert still in her arms.
“Watson, how could you betray me for a life of crime?” she asked Bert teasingly.
“To be fair to Bert, we did set him up,” Mom said as she set the tray of cupcakes on the table. “Did you figure out why Watson stole the cupcakes?”
“Elementary, my dear mother!” EJ said in a British accent. “We didn’t feed him, so he stole the cupcakes because he was hungry.”
“Speaking of hungry, are we going to eat this delicious dessert or not?” asked Mr. Johnson.
“First we light candles and sing, Lester!” Mrs. Winkle chided him.
Mom and Mrs. Winkle made quick work of adding eleven birthday candles to the cupcakes and setting them ablaze. Pops’s deep singing voice led everyone in “Happy Birthday.”
EJ closed her eyes, made a wish, and blew out all the candles on her first try. Everyone clapped, and Isaac called out, “Food fight!” and made a lunge for the cupcakes.
“Nice try, Wildcard.” Dad grabbed him by the Superman cape and stopped him midair. “Maybe we’ll have a food fight on your birthday.”