Tonya nodded. “That sounds fair.”
Tyler looked up at Ellis and gestured to his watch.
“Do that after the meeting,” Ellis said. “For now we’re talking about those hooligans.”
“No!” Joanne said at the top of her voice. “Tell her to stop selling cupcakes!”
“Joanne!” Ellis thundered. “That conversation is over. Faith is going to bring cupcakes over to you tonight. Then we will see what happens afterward. Now everyone sit down and listen to what Deputy Sheriff Valdez has to say. I don’t want to hear another word!”
A stunned silence settled over the room, then it faded into resignation.
Faith sat down and listened as Valdez began to talk. She hadn’t realized quite how much adrenaline was zipping around her body until everything went quiet and still. She could feel Joanne’s evil stare burning into her, no matter how hard she tried to listen to Valdez and forget about the whole cupcake situation. She could only hope that Joanne would see some sense when she saw the difference in their styles – Joanne’s cupcakes were generally bright synthetic colors with fruit flavorings and a whole ton of garish frosting. They were certainly eye catching, but not Faith’s style. She preferred adventurous combination flavorings, like white chocolate and lavender, or maple syrup and bourbon and pecan, or dark chocolate and candied ginger, with artistic marbled frosting. Neither was better, per se – it was all a matter of taste – but they really were poles apart.
“Don’t worry,” Laura whispered in her ear. “It’ll all work out.”
Faith was trying to convince herself that was the case, but she couldn’t deny a creeping feeling was spreading through her. A feeling that was telling her something was about to go dreadfully wrong.
*****
Chapter 7
Faith walked through the palm-edged walkways of Paradise Point feeling anxious. She was never a person to be scared of the dark, but all of a sudden everything seemed to hold hidden dangers that not even the pretty white Christmas lights strung up everywhere could chase away.
She clutched a box of cupcakes under her arm and regretted insisting Laura and Nathan go on to their homes without her. They had both wanted to come but she had been quite firm. In a strange way, she felt she wanted to resolve the issue with Joanne personally. As much as Joanne hated her, Faith was sure she could get through to her with their mutual love of cupcakes.
Trying to be accommodating, she’d even thought of setting up a deal whereby Joanne could bake the cupcakes Faith and Laura sold in Slice of Paradise. But then she’d felt a sinking feeling in her gut, knowing that she just couldn’t give up baking cupcakes, no matter how much anyone had wanted her to.
As weird as it might have seemed to others, cupcakes had always been there for Faith. When a horrible bully Katy transferred to their school for a semester and relentlessly tormented her and turned other girls against her, cupcakes had been her refuge in the evenings, a safe place where she could get lost in the warmth and the sweet scent and the preciseness of following recipes. And then when the relationship with Jeremy had fallen apart, baking cupcakes had been her coping mechanism. She’d invented a whole ton of new creations then, like apple cupcakes with cinnamon frosting, and vanilla cupcakes cut in the middle like miniature sponge cakes, stuffed with raspberry jam and creamy hazelnut butter.
She’d included one of the latter in the small sampler box she was bringing over, along with two chocolate-chip cupcakes with maple syrup and peanut butter frosting peaks – something she’d been teaching Laura. They were still serving their one or two regular customers, to keep up a steady trickle of money, even if it was next to nothing. It just felt wrong not to take in any cash at all. Old Hank the ex-fisherman and Susie the part time librarian adored every new cupcake and pastry put in front of them. Still, every time Faith revealed another one of her creations she felt a knotting sensation in her stomach. No matter how long she’d dreamed of it, bringing her private world out into the open wasn’t without its nail-biting moments, even around the nicest of people.
Joanne’s cupcake place glared with its fluorescent light, throwing everything around it into deep blackness. When Faith blinked and looked out toward the tropical trees, trying to get her bearings, the square of the bright window flashed in her eyesight, blocking her vision.
“Joanne?” Faith called out. She couldn’t see anyone inside. She walked up slowly to the wooden building, which had been painted turquoise, with contrasting orange shutters and tables and chairs outside. “Joanne?” Faith had no idea why her heart was beating so hard it sounded like it would fly out of her chest.
“Yes, yes,” Joanne said testily. She had been kneeling down, but sprang up, looking annoyed. She threw a death stare at the box under Faith’s arm through the open window. “Your cupcakes,” she said. The way she spat it out reminded Faith of a villain meeting their arch-nemesis hero in some superhero movie. Cupcakes, we meet again.
Faith, buoyed out of her total anxiety by a bit of silly humor, managed a smile. “Yep,” she said. “I’d love to try yours, too.”
“Yes, well I’m very busy now preparing for tomorrow and I’m not in the habit of giving away sellable produce to competitors.”
That would be a no, then.
“All right,” Faith said. “I’ll just leave these here for you then.” She reached through the large open window and placed her box on the counter. “I hope you like them.”
Joanne totally ignored her.
“Goodnight,” Faith said, starting to feel about an inch tall. Why did this woman have to be this way? Couldn’t she see Faith just wanted to get along? Faith turned to walk away, then spun back again to face Joanne through the window. She wanted to say something strong, decisive. Like she was a grown woman taking initiative to sort things out, not someone to be walked over. “I really hope we can work through this and come out the other side as friends,” she said, but her tone of voice sounded all wrong to her own ears. Desperate. Pathetic, even. Before she frustrated herself even more, she turned and walked away, trying to hold her head high as her eyes became hot and prickly with tears she wouldn’t let fall.
“Argh!” she said, as soon as she was sure she was out of earshot. That was with herself as much as Joanne. Why on earth was she on the verge of crying?! She berated herself all the way back to Slice of Paradise, intermittently jumping with fright as a slight breeze tickled the leaves and bushes and made whispering sounds. But as soon as she walked in their slowly-taking-shape tearoom slash café, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was here for a purpose. As she stood in the center of Slice of Paradise, she had the strangest sensation, almost as if the stained floor and newly pastel painted wood and ruffled curtains were rooting for her. For the most fleeting moment, she felt like everything was right with the world, and life had nothing but good things to place in her lap, as long as she’d weather the difficulties with knowledge she’d soon come out the other side.
She stuffed her favorite bakery book, The Warm Scent of Home, in her satchel and headed out toward the exit with a slight skip in her step, the evening breeze dancing over her skin. She couldn’t wait to cuddle up with Cirrus and Nimbus, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming her hands. She’d flick through all the glossy pages of the book, pausing to pore over her favorite picture – the double page spread of a summer tea party complete with bunting and cake stands and lacy tablecloth, all bathed in glorious sunlight, the cakes sharply in focus, the smiling guests blurred like a happy sunshine daydream. And Opal Templeton, the woman on the back cover, all smile and straight blonde hair, with a baby pink signature reading, Opal X, in a lovely, italic cursive. Perhaps Faith’s hero. Faith would flick through, feeling sleepier and sleepier with every page. Pretty soon she’d feel all warm and fuzzy, the kittens purring beside her, and an irresistible sleep would draw her up up up and away until her eyes closed. What a lovely way to spend an evening.
Faith smiled all the way along the short walk to her apartment. She was
sure that tomorrow would be better. Much better.
*****
“Joanne’s dead.”
Faith stared at Sandy, the woman at the ticket kiosk who always let them in. Faith had slept deep and risen early, and had decided to come out to the tea room early to get started on a brand new creation. But there was police tape blocking the entrance, strip after strip after strip lined up against the wrought iron gate, which looked rather threatening when it was shut.
“What?” was all Faith could manage.
Sandy just shook her head. “That’s all I know. I don’t even know where she was found.”
“Joanne? Dead?” Faith’s heart hammered in her chest. A horrible thought struck her – maybe Joanne had been so inconsolable about the cupcake business that she’d killed herself. The whole world felt like it was closing in, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
“Faith?” Sandy was leaning up over the kiosk counter, but she was fast becoming just a blurry figure. “Are you okay?”
It felt like all the anxiety and fear and dread in the world decided to get together in one huge gust of wind and rush into Faith’s face. Her heart raced and skipped and it seemed as if her throat was closing. “Help,” she said weakly, through the ringing sound in her ears. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, and death itself seemed to be closing in around her, creeping ever closer and closer until it would be near enough to snatch her away.
It took her a couple of terrifying moments, the dread gripping her, before she realized she was having a panic attack. She’d first gotten one when she was getting bullied in high school. Sometimes one flared up from time to time, and each time it happened it was so hard to remember what was going on, because the dread was just so intense.
She gripped onto the side of the kiosk to steady herself.
I’m having a panic attack, she told herself, as calmly as she could, trying to take deep breaths but ending up gasping for air. That’s all, just a panic attack. I’m not dying, I’m not dying.
“Faith, Faith!” Sandy kept saying. “What can I do to help you?”
But nothing would come out of Faith’s mouth. All she could do was lean against the kiosk, taking deep breaths.
“I’m going to call an ambulance,” Sandy said.
Faith waved her arm and shook her head. There would be nothing more embarrassing than the paramedics turning up, only for her to have to say her panic attack was over and she was totally fine. Keeping that image in her head actually calmed her down enough to speak. “No, please don’t. It’s just a panic attack. It will pass soon.”
“All right,” Sandy said, watching her skeptically.
Her breathing was constricting a little, but Faith just about managed to keep her panic in check. “I need to… sit down.”
“Come in, come in,” Sandy said, hurrying out of the side door of the kiosk. “Come in, sweetie, there’s a chair there.”
But Faith felt like sinking right to the floor. She slid down the wall and sat, breathing deeply and waiting for the world to make sense again.
Eventually she felt better, and even managed to laugh at herself a bit as to defuse the situation.
“You okay now, honey?” Sandy said. “Do you need anything?”
Faith got up, dusting herself off, and gave Sandy a smile. “I’m all right. I just feel terrible about Joanne.”
Sandy shook her head. “I know. It’s terrible. And nothing like that ever happens around here. It’s such a safe area. So strange. But I’m sure the Sheriff’s Department will get to the bottom of it.”
Faith’s heart sank. She was sure Joanne had killed herself over the whole cupcake business. How could Faith ever live with herself after that?
“Oh,” Sandy said, suddenly remembering something. “You’ve taken over from Bessie at the tea room, right?”
Faith nodded.
“Ellis was the first one in the park this morning,” Sandy said. “He was actually the one who found Joanne… But he also mentioned there was a box on the steps of your place… sorry, what do you call it now?”
“Slice of Paradise,” Faith said quickly. “A box?”
Sandy nodded. “It all got forgotten since he’s helping the Sheriff and the Deputy now. They’ve sealed off the scene and are going through all their processes, whatever they do. But maybe he’ll bring it over to you, or leave it here. If he brings it here I’ll give you a call. I have your cell number on the vendors’ contact sheet.”
“All right, thanks,” Faith said, frowning. “Any idea what it could be?”
Sandy shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, honey. Anyways, are you sure you’re all right?”
Faith nodded. “It’s just an annoying thing I get sometimes. It’s scary, but it doesn’t really mean anything, if you know what I mean. It looks bad, but I’m fine, really. Thanks for letting me come in and get my breath back.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure you’re all right. And you’re welcome.” She cast her eyes over to the locked gate. “Obviously the park is closed today. It might be back open tomorrow. You’ll get a call letting you know whether to come in or not.”
“Thank you, Sandy,” Faith said, leaving the kiosk. “See you.”
The walk back to her little apartment was very strange. It felt like the sidewalk and the palms that lined it weren’t quite real. The sun had just risen, and the sky was the most gorgeously rich blue, with perfect white fluff clouds floating across it without a care in the world. Cars drove by like normal, people walked to work. It was so strange to think a death could happen – someone’s whole existence was totally and utterly over – and the world and its inhabitants just carried on as usual, without even noticing.
*****
Chapter 8
Cirrus took a break from pawing his little mouse toy to hop up onto the couch and nuzzle his furry little gray head into Laura’s outstretched hand. Nimbus was turning out to be a bit of a mommy’s boy, which Faith wouldn’t change for the world. He was snuggled into Faith’s lap, purring up a storm, every now and then turning his fuzzy head upward to check she was still there.
“I just can’t believe it,” Laura said for what was perhaps the fifth or sixth time.
Faith shook her head, then smoothed down her hair. When the weather got rainy it frizzed up like crazy. Brushing only seemed to make it worse but she needed to brush the knots out. She and combs just never got on. “Me either.” But there was something a lot worse on her mind, that she hadn’t even dared to speak aloud. It was swelling in her chest, up to her throat, and nearly ready to burst. She finally just couldn’t take it anymore. “Laura, what if she didn’t commit suicide? What if…”
Laura’s eyes widened. “You think… she was… killed?”
“Maybe,” Faith said, her heart hammering. She paused and took another sip of her sweet chamomile tea. Being there in her comfortable new apartment with her beloved kittens and new kind friend was enough to stave off another panic attack, fortunately. “But… don’t you see… if that’s the case, then who’s going to be the prime suspect?”
Laura crinkled her nose in confusion. Her wispy hair was pulled back in a tiny bun and she looked so much like a cute little rabbit that Faith would have smiled, if it wasn’t for the terrifying possibility that was tearing through her mind.
“Me, of course!” Faith said, a little too loudly. Nimbus actually jumped out of her lap, mewing in shock. “Oh, sorry, sorry, Nimbus,” she said, feeling quite desperate about the whole thing. “Please come back.” She tapped her knee over and over. “Come on, sweet boy. Please.”
He regarded her with suspicion for a moment, then launched off the cream carpet and back into her lap.
“Of course, you won’t be a suspect,” Laura said, though she sounded wary. “Why would you be?”
“Sorry, sweetie,” Faith said quietly, stroking Nimbus with a reassuring touch. She watched as Cirrus took a leap from the arm of the Laura’s chair and resumed his crazy antics with his toy mouse
.
Laura’s voice was firm. “Faith, what do you mean?”
“Think about it,” Faith said with a sigh, not even wanting to think about it herself. “She was so mad about the cupcake thing, and everyone saw us having the discussion about it.” She gasped. “Even the Deputy was there.” She tipped her head back over the edge of the couch, feeling like she was going to be arrested at any moment. “They’ll think I wanted her out the way and killed her. Ugh.”
“No way!” Laura said. “Everyone who’s met you knows you wouldn’t do that.”
Faith gave Nimbus a quick rub on the chin then gently tipped him off her lap as she got up. She shuffled her fluffy slippers over the carpet into the laminate kitchen area. “You say that, but… well, they call it motive, don’t they? Put it this way, my motive looks pretty strong right now.” She opened the tin she kept cupcakes in – she’d brought back some of the miniature hazelnut butter and raspberry jam sponge cakes, and the chocolate-chip cupcakes with maple syrup and peanut butter frosting peaks. But as soon as she saw them in the tin, looking more delicious than ever, she felt sick. Someone died for the sake of these? For the sake of these?
She slammed the lid back on and opened another tin, which was stuffed to the brim with Chocolate Digestives. They were a special kind of cookie, or English biscuit, that her mom had fallen in love with when studying in England, and they’d become one of Faith’s firm favorites, too. It was a sweet brown-wheat cookie, coated on one side with milk chocolate. Her mom had stuffed plenty of packets in Faith’s case before she’d jetted off from Minnesota, and Faith loved to dunk one in sweet tea or nibble away whenever she was missing home. She put a few on a plate and returned to her seat.
“That’s crazy,” Laura said, shaking her head. “I know it’s very… sad, but I honestly think she did commit suicide.” She reached out and touched Faith’s arm. “But it’s not our fault, not at all. You didn’t do anything wrong, not one thing, even if the reason behind it all was the cupcakes. You weren’t to know she’d take it so hard. And I doubt it was that, anyway.”
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