by Jinty James
“And us. Zoe and Lauren.” Zoe scratched down their names.
“You’re putting us on the suspect list?” Lauren’s eyes widened.
“I know we didn’t do it,” Zoe told her, “but that detective seems to think so, if what Mitch told you was true.”
“That’s a depressing thought.”
“It certainly is.” Zoe sounded far too cheerful. But Lauren reminded herself that her cousin enjoyed investigating the murders that sometimes occurred in the small town, dragging her reluctantly along.
“Anyone else?’ Lauren asked.
“Not that I can think of right now,” Zoe admitted.
“Then maybe we should go to bed.” Lauren rose.
“Good night, Mom.” Zoe giggled, then patted Lauren’s arm. “We can think up more suspects tomorrow.”
THEY DIDN’T GET A CHANCE to talk further about the murder until late the next morning. They were busy with customers from the time they opened until eleven o’clock.
Ed informed them that AJ had been fine once he’d taken her home, but he didn’t think becoming Annie’s assistant was a good idea for the Maine Coon, and they both agreed, Zoe reluctantly.
Finally, they were able to sit down on the stools behind the counter and grab a mocha each.
“I definitely need this.” Zoe sighed as she sipped on the cocoa-laced coffee. Ms. Tobin was the only customer right now, and she was talking to Annie at a table in the middle of the room.
“Ooh, Ms. Tobin!” Zoe jumped up, stuck her hand in her jeans pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Don’t tell me that’s last night’s suspect list,” Lauren said, keeping her voice low.
“Yep.” Zoe grinned.
“And you think Ms. Tobin is a suspect?” Lauren glanced over at the middle-aged woman.
“Well, not really,” Zoe admitted. “But she did say she didn’t care for Jason’s cupcakes. And about never trusting a smirking man.”
Lauren watched her write down Ms. Tobin’s name.
“I think you should put that list away,” she murmured. “We don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression – including Ms. Tobin.”
“I guess.” Zoe reluctantly tucked the piece of paper back into her pocket. “There. Out of sight.”
They finished their mochas, Lauren wondering if they would have a lunch rush today, or if the rest of the day would be quiet. She was just about to ask Zoe if she wanted to take her break first, when Scott walked into the café, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, looking a little unsure as to his welcome.
“It’s Smirky Jason’s friend!” Zoe dug her elbow into Lauren’s ribcage.
“I can see that,” Lauren muttered. She rose from the stool. “Hi.”
Annie jumped down from the chair at Ms. Tobin’s table and trotted over to him. “Brrt?”
“You’re a nice cat.” Scott smiled down at her.
“Brrp.”
“Annie will show you to a table,” Lauren told him.
“Really?” He looked like he didn’t quite believe her. “Okay.”
Annie led the way to a four-seater at the rear. “Brrt.”
“I’m going to take his order,” Zoe whispered to Lauren. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“What can we get you?” Zoe whipped out her order pad as they approached Scott. Annie sat in the chair opposite him, looking at him inquiringly.
“Um – well – I really wanted to come in and apologize to you guys.” Scott looked uncomfortable. “What Jason did wasn’t cool – trying to steal your customers like that.”
“Thanks,” Lauren replied. “We appreciate that.”
“Yeah,” Zoe replied. “So why did he target us?”
Scott squirmed in his seat. “He told me that a lady friend of his raved about your cupcakes, and your coffee, and he thought it would be easy to set up the truck outside. He didn’t think there’d be any problems with permits or law enforcement, because this is a small town.”
“Well, he got that right,” Zoe muttered.
Lauren silently agreed. Even Mitch warning off Jason hadn’t done the trick for long.
“I wanted to let you know I won’t be continuing with the truck. I’ve been accepted into college.” His expression brightened. “I’m going to study earth sciences and get into environmental consulting.”
“What’s that?” Zoe asked.
“It’s how I can have an impact on future generations,” he told them earnestly. “I can advise developers how to tread more lightly on the earth – instead of ramming in big housing projects that don’t leave any room for lawns or trees or wildlife, I can show them how much better it would be for the environment if certain species of trees were planted in a particular area, and which bushes and flowers to choose to help the native wildlife. Like planting the right kind of flowering bushes so that butterflies and bees can flourish, even in suburbia or the city.”
“That sounds cool,” Lauren remarked.
“It is.” He nodded. “Did you know that the world’s population of bees is dying off? They need as much help as we can give them, or one day there won’t be any bees to pollinate our food.”
“That’s a scary thought.” Zoe grimaced.
Scott ordered a large latte and a lavender cupcake.
“Won’t be long,” Lauren promised, as she and Zoe headed back to the counter.
“He seems much nicer than Jason,” Zoe said as she plated the cupcake.
“I know,” Lauren said, as she steamed milk for the coffee.
“I wonder why he was hanging out with Jason?” Zoe pondered.
“Didn’t Jessica say they were childhood friends?”
“Oh, yeah.” Zoe snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Hmm. Maybe I should cross him off my suspect list.”
“Because he’s too nice to be a killer?” Lauren teased.
“That’s right.” Zoe grinned.
They brought the order over to him, Annie still keeping him company.
“I didn’t see Sweet Boy yesterday,” Zoe remarked as she set the cupcake down in front of him.
“Who?” Scott looked bewildered.
“The French bulldog,” Lauren explained. “I think Jason said his real name was Butch?”
“Oh.” Scott’s face cleared. “Yeah. Butch belongs to Jason’s grandfather, and he wanted Butch with him yesterday. He said he had plans to go to the park, and that Butch gets the ladies for him.” He glanced at them. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Zoe told him. “I’m afraid I didn’t think Sweet Boy/Butch was very cute, unlike some of the ladies who bought cupcakes from Jason.”
“I know, right?” Scott grimaced. “In fact, this whole cupcake truck idea started off as a joke. It was my idea and then Jason said we could totally do it and he even knew where we could sell the cakes.”
“Where did you get the truck from?” Lauren asked.
“Jason bought it. See, me and Jason—” he looked proud and embarrassed at the same time “—won the lottery.”
“No way!” Zoe gasped, her brown eyes huge.
“Not the first prize,” Scott hastened to assure her. “Thirty-k. So we had enough to buy this secondhand truck. Jason insisted it would be a huge moneymaker and we’d split the profits.”
“Did he bake the cupcakes himself?” Lauren asked, her professional interest piqued.
“Yeah.” Scott nodded. “But he didn’t bake them from scratch. He used box mixes.”
“I knew it,” Lauren murmured under her breath.
“And he bought the frosting as well,” Scott continued. “The cheapest he could find. He even started clipping coupons to get the best deals he could.”
“Huh,” Zoe muttered.
“He said he didn’t care what the cupcakes tasted like, he thought the ladies would go ga-ga over them because of the huge amount of frosting he put on them, and all the decorations.”
“I think he was right,” Lauren replied. “At firs
t, anyway.”
“Yeah, he complained about business being down the last couple of days.” Scott paused, as if remembering that his friend was no longer here.
“That’s when some of our customers returned to us,” Zoe remarked.
“So what will you do with the van now?” Lauren asked.
“Sell it, I suppose.” Scott shrugged. “I don’t know if anyone will want to buy it as is, though. Jason had it painted that bright pink, and did the gold lettering himself.”
“It looks like it,” Zoe muttered.
Lauren nudged her cousin in a warning manner.
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Lauren said, realizing that should have been the first thing she’d said to him.
“Thanks.” He nodded.
“How’s Jessica holding up?” Zoe asked.
“Not good. I don’t know what she saw in Jason – yeah, he was good looking, and my friend, but he was a real ladies’ man, you know? He liked to play the field.”
“Even when he was dating Jessica?” Lauren asked.
Scott hesitated. “Yeah,” he finally said.
“And she still wanted him back?” Zoe probed.
“Uh-huh. Even when she found out he’d cheated on her.” He shrugged, as if he couldn’t understand that.
They left him alone to enjoy his treats.
“I hope his coffee isn’t too cold by now,” Lauren said.
“We were talking to him for a while,” Zoe said in satisfaction, “and got some good info, too.”
“But not another viable suspect to look at,” Lauren commented.
“Nope.”
CHAPTER 8
Mrs. Finch came in that afternoon and they filled her in on Jason’s death.
“My goodness,” she exclaimed. “Whoever would have thought that would happen?”
They showed her Zoe’s suspect list.
“We must talk more about this tomorrow night at craft club,” she said. “How is your pottery coming along, Zoe?”
Guilt flashed across Zoe’s face. “I haven’t done any this week, Mrs. Finch. Not with everything that’s happened.”
“That’s understandable.” Mrs. Finch nodded. “What about you, Lauren? Have you decided on your next knitting project?”
Now it was Lauren’s turn to look just as uncomfortable as her cousin. “No,” she murmured.
“You might come up with some ideas tomorrow night.” Mrs. Finch smiled.
ON FRIDAY EVENING, the three of them arrived at Mrs. Finch’s house.
“Come in, come in.” The elderly lady beamed at them, her face wreathed in smiles.
“Brrt!” Annie greeted her.
“Hello, Annie, dear. You’ll have to tell me what you’ve been up to today.”
“Brrt.” I will.
They walked down the lilac painted hall to the living room, decorated in tones of fawn and beige.
“Well now,” Mrs. Finch began as she sat down in an armchair, “have you made any progress with your suspect list?”
Lauren and Zoe glanced at each other.
“No,” they replied at the same time.
“That is a shame,” Mrs. Finch said sympathetically.
“Who do you think the killer is?” Zoe asked her.
“Brrt!” Annie perched on the arm of Mrs. Finch’s chair.
“Let me see.” Mrs. Finch stroked Annie and closed her eyes. “Tell me more about the angry man who complained about the cupcakes.”
Lauren and Zoe told her what they remembered.
“Why, that sounds like Betty’s husband.” Mrs. Finch opened her eyes. “She’s always said he loves cakes and cookies, and gets upset if there aren’t any in the house when he wants a treat.”
“He doesn’t sound very nice,” Zoe remarked.
“Oh, he can be quite charming when he puts his mind to it.” Mrs. Finch laughed. “He works very hard, and he doesn’t drink. I suppose eating sweet things is his way of unwinding.”
“I hope we don’t become like him one day.” Zoe eyed Lauren.
“Me neither.” Lauren thought guiltily of the cupcake she’d enjoyed for dessert that evening. Had she been eating too many of them? She hadn’t kept up with her promise to herself to become fitter during the last few months, either. But she and Zoe didn’t get angry if they’d sold out of cupcakes for the day and there weren’t any left over to take home for themselves. Did they?
“I’ll call Betty tomorrow and have a nice chat with her, and tell her I heard about an altercation at the cupcake truck. I’m sure she’ll tell me if her husband was involved,” Mrs. Finch offered.
“Would you?” Zoe sounded delighted.
“As long as it doesn’t put you in any danger,” Lauren added. Was it a good idea to involve Mrs. Finch like this?
“I’m sure it won’t.”
The conversation soon turned to Zoe’s current hobby.
“I’m not sure what to make next in pottery class,” Zoe admitted.
“You’re not getting bored with it, are you?” Lauren teased.
“No.” Zoe’s brunette pixie locks swung vehemently as she shook her head. “I’m looking forward to using the wheel more. But the instructor said first we need to familiarize ourselves with the clay which is why I had to make those ashtrays.” She sighed. “I hope I’m better at making vases or plates or bowls – or mugs! Yeah, mugs! I could make some for the café!” She turned shining brown eyes to Lauren.
“Good idea.” Lauren wanted to be supportive.
“Don’t worry,” Zoe reassured her, “I hereby give you permission to refuse any of my mugs or anything else from my pottery efforts unless they’re good.”
“We could even paint the name of the café on the mugs – ooh! – we could paint a picture of Annie on the mugs as well!”
“Brrt!” Annie’s ears pricked and she looked pleased at the suggestion.
“You mean you’ll be doing all this painting,” Lauren said. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Zoe agreed quickly.
“It sounds a marvelous idea, Zoe,” Mrs. Finch commented. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do it if you put your mind to it.”
“Exactly,” Zoe said with enthusiasm.
Lauren and Zoe made coffee using Mrs. Finch’s pod machine, then they said goodnight.
“I can’t wait until my next pottery class,” Zoe said as they left the cottage. “Wait until I tell the instructor what I have in mind!”
“I can’t wait until we hear back from Mrs. Finch’s investigation,” Lauren said. “I just hope we haven’t put her in any danger.”
“What harm could it do for her to call a friend and talk about the cupcake truck? I’m sure Mrs. Finch will be fine.”
CHAPTER 9
Lauren and Zoe visited Mrs. Finch on Sunday, after church. They hadn’t been for a while, and Lauren’s conscience insisted they attend that morning.
She’d worried about Mrs. Finch calling her friend, no matter what Zoe had said.
“I’m fine, dears,” Mrs. Finch told them as she opened the door. “I was just about to call you and let you know what happened.”
“What did happen?” Zoe asked eagerly.
“Brrt?” Annie wanted to know too.
Once they were settled in the living room, Mrs. Finch filled them in.
“I was right – that man was Betty’s husband.” Mrs. Finch looked delighted with her sleuthing efforts. “We had a lovely talk on the phone, and Betty is coming to visit me tomorrow afternoon. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“That’s great!” Zoe grinned.
“Someone else had already told her about the altercation – they must have been across the street when her husband lost her temper with that young cupcake man. Anyway, her husband was very remorseful about his behavior and promised it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Does he have an alibi for around the time of the murder?” Lauren asked.
“It must have occurr
ed sometime in the morning,” Zoe mused. “Before we opened at nine-thirty.”
“The cupcake truck wasn’t there when we closed the day before.”
“And I glanced out of the front window that night,” Zoe said. “I didn’t see the truck lurking outside then.” She glanced at Lauren. “Sorry, I meant to tell you that before now.”’
Lauren nodded.
“Betty says he was with her that morning,” Mrs. Finch informed them. “She said he surprised her by making breakfast for both of them – chocolate chip pancakes – and had arranged to go into the office a little later.”
“Hmm.” Zoe tapped her cheek. “I wonder if he did that because he was worried someone would report his bad behavior to his wife, so he decided to make amends first? That way, when she found out about him making a scene at the cupcake truck, she couldn’t be so mad at him.”
“Zoe!” Sometimes Lauren was surprised at how her cousin’s mind worked – although she should be used to it by now.
“I must admit I thought along the same lines.” Mrs. Finch looked a little uncomfortable. “But that means, surely, that Betty’s husband isn’t the killer?”
“It seems like it,” Lauren agreed.
“Have the police interviewed him?” Zoe asked.
“Yes.” Mrs. Finch nodded. “Somehow they found out that he’d been irate about the cupcakes and had confronted the cupcake man – Jason.”
“It wasn’t us,” Lauren said.
“No.” Zoe shook her head.
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Mrs. Finch smiled at them. “But I would understand if it had been. The police need to have all the facts so they can solve the case.”
“Definitely,” Lauren agreed.
“But sometimes we solve the case instead,” Zoe said with relish.
“Hopefully this time, the police can do it,” Lauren replied.
Zoe mumbled something under her breath. Lauren didn’t want to know what it was.
They enjoyed a cup of coffee while Annie lapped delicately from a bowl of water. Then they said goodbye to Mrs. Finch and walked home.
TO LAUREN’S DELIGHT, Mitch stopped by the house that afternoon. He’d had to work an extra shift yesterday, so they hadn’t seen each other last night.