Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) (2 page)

Missy
arrived at the high school early, wanting to take her time with tasting the
many selections that the students had prepared, in order to give everyone a
fair chance. She parked her car in the lot, thankful that the rain had finally
stopped, and headed toward the building.

“Hey,
Ms. G!” she heard a young girl’s voice call out, and turned to see Donna, her
friend Echo’s assistant, jogging to catch up with her. Donna had worked for
Missy’s dear friend, Echo, at the vegan ice cream shop across the street from
Crème de la Cupcake ever the free-spirited former Californian had purchased the
place.

“Well,
hello Donna,” Missy greeted the girl with a hug. “Did you come out to watch the
contest?”

“No,
ma’am, I’m
in
the contest,” she corrected, out of breath.

“Really?
I never knew you were a baker, that’s wonderful! I may have to steal you away
from Echo,” she teased.

Donna
laughed, replying, “Good luck with that. I get to work for the coolest boss
ever – no offense – and I can eat all the free Vanilla Rice Dream that I want,
who would leave that?”

“You
do have a point,” Missy nodded, grinning.

“Well,
I’ve gotta go,” the teenager bounced ahead of her, clearly excited. “It was
great seeing you, Ms. G!”

“You
too, Donna,” she called after the enthusiastic teen.

Once
inside, Missy discovered that Chas had been completely wrong. The auditorium
didn’t smell like old gym socks, it smelled like every kind of cake, cookie and
confection that one could think of, and, despite having enjoyed a relatively
substantial dinner, her stomach grumbled in anticipation. Loretta Christianson
met her just inside the door and promptly handed her an instruction booklet for
the rules and procedure, and a grading book that would allow her to record her
impressions of each selection. The ten finalists had already been selected, so
she’d be trying small bites of each of the ten offerings to determine which one
should win the scholarship to culinary school and cash award of $500.00.

Missy
took her seat at the judges table, between the Home Ec teacher, Mrs. Dowler, on
her right, and Principal Sanders, on her left. Each student would bring three
small plates forward, showcasing their entry, one for each judge. The student
would then return to their seat to await feedback from the judges, and once
they had received feedback, the next student would present. The lineup of
students was random, and Donna’s name just happened to be at the end of the
list.

Missy
tried bites of each treat that were just large enough to make her assessments,
and recorded points for each student, based upon creativity, quality and
presentation. Most of the students did well in at least one of the three
categories, but, by the time Donna stepped forward to make her presentation, no
one had, as yet, been outstanding enough to take a clear lead. The nervous
young lady presented a Peanut Butter and Jelly Cake that was a beautiful sight
to behold. It consisted of moist, delicate white cake, filled with a creamy,
dreamy, strawberry cream cheese spread, and topped with a fluffy peanut butter
whipped buttercream icing, crowned with a plump, fresh strawberry, crushed
peanuts and graham cracker crumbs.

Missy
was a bit reluctant to try the dessert, having never developed an affinity for
PB&J as a child, but she dutifully took a forkful into her mouth, experiencing
the biggest surprise of the day. Not only was Donna’s presentation stunning,
but the cake was one of the most delicious things that Missy had tasted in a
while, and she was definitely going to ask the young lady if she could buy the
recipe to use for cupcakes.

Missy
and Principal Sanders had only good things to say about Donna’s superb
creation, but the feedback that Mrs. Dowler gave was a bit more of a critique.
She pointed out that Donna had taken a risk, using a recipe that should have
only been appealing to children, and that she had been fortunate that it
appealed to an adult palate. She also chastised her for using ingredients
(peanut butter and strawberries), that were known allergens, and could’ve
endangered some of the participants. Missy was quick to jump to Donna’s defense
and point out that, although her choice was risky, it had been outstanding, and
that others in the competition had also used products that included known
allergens like pistachios, chocolate and more.

Donna
sat down after her assessment, cheeks flushed from receiving what she clearly
perceived as unwarranted criticism. The school orchestra played a mostly
in-tune selection of numbers from Broadway musicals while the judges tallied
their scores. Missy felt more than certain that Donna had won the competition
hands down. She had given the brave young baker nearly perfect scores in every
category. The judges handed their score sheets to Mr. Clive Foxworthy of
Foxworthy and Sons Accounting, to be tallied. The 1
^st
, 2
^nd
and 3
^rd
runners up were announced, and were given trophies and
prizes. Donna stood nervously with the remaining contestants, heart beating
fast, knowing that her name would be the one called as winner.

Loretta
Christianson was announcing the winners, and paused dramatically when she
received the card with the first prize winner on it. She glanced at the card,
raised her eyebrows, glanced at the judges, and cleared her throat.

“The
first prize winner of tonight’s bake-off, the student who will receive a full
scholarship to Clarkson Culinary School and a $500 prize is…” the room held its
collective breath, and the students remaining onstage appeared to be bursting
with anticipation. “Margaret Matthews,” Loretta announced. For a long moment,
no one moved, and then, precipitated by Margaret’s gasp of surprised delight,
the audience broke into hesitant applause.

Bewildered,
Missy and Principal Sanders glanced at each other, frowning. In a whispered
conversation, it was discovered that Mrs. Bowden, the Home Ec teacher, had given
Donna extremely low scores in every category, using the excuse that peanut
butter and jelly didn’t belong in a serious competition. When she left the
judges table in a hurry, too uncomfortable to endure the questions of Missy and
the Principal any longer, Donna was hot on her heels. Missy saw the teary-eyed
young lady corner her teacher in the hallway and was clearly giving her a piece
of her mind. Mrs. Bowden stepped toward the girl in a manner that appeared
menacing and entirely inappropriate, then seemed to contain her emotions and
turned swiftly to go, leaving the furious student yelling something after her
that was unintelligible from where Missy sat. Concerned, Missy rose from her
chair to console the poor girl, but by the time she reached the hallway, both
Mrs. Dowler and Donna were gone.

Missy
pondered the strange behavior of Mrs. Dowler, while she drove home. She
couldn’t understand why the woman had given Donna’s brilliant dish such low
marks to begin with, and once she did, why she was so nasty to the poor girl
when confronted about it. Her reasoning hadn’t set well with either of the
other judges, and her explanations were completely inadequate. Missy vowed to
try to make Donna feel better by offering her a ridiculously large price for
her recipe. She planned to walk across the street to the vegan ice cream shop
tomorrow afternoon to bring the girl a cupcake and offer her the deal, hoping
that she might be able, in that small way, to ease the sting of loss.

Parking
her car in the detached garage beside her gracious lemon-yellow and white
Victorian home, Missy was preoccupied when she got out of the car and locked
the door, but the world came into crystal-clear focus when she heard a sound in
the corner. Heart beating faster, her ears straining to hear, she stopped in
her tracks, listening in the dark. She’d been meaning to fix the bulb in the
garage for weeks, but just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. When she didn’t hear
the sound again, she made her way quickly to the door that led to the back yard,
so that she could enter, as she usually did, via the back porch. Stepping up
into the enclosed porch, she heard the gate to the back yard squeak, which was
odd, because she kept it close. Her fear response kicking in, she elected to
continue into the house and grab the dog and a flashlight before checking the
gate.

Toffee
at her heels, Missy shone her flashlight on the back gate, noting with
considerable relief, that it was closed. She was puzzled though. She absolutely
knew that the sound she had heard had been the gate creaking, which couldn’t
have happened if it was closed. Trying to convince herself that she’d merely
been hearing things, she started to make her way back to the house and heard a
twig snap behind her. She and Toffee both whirled at the sound, but when she
shone her flashlight all around, nothing seemed to be amiss. Thoroughly spooked
at this point, she hurried back into the house, her faithful friend at her
side.

“But
you didn’t see anyone?” Chas grilled Missy upon hearing about the strange
sounds that she thought she had heard.

“No,
I just figured that I was jumping at shadows, and tried to forget about it,”
Missy shrugged.

“Well,
I’d like you to be a bit more vigilant than usual. Keep your doors and windows
locked, keep an eye out for anything suspicious or out of place, and for
goodness sake, put a new bulb in the overhead garage light,” he chastised
gently. “We still haven’t apprehended the alleged Peeping Tom over on the north
side yet, so I want you to be extra careful.”

“I
will,” Missy nodded, not terribly worried. Her house was in a sedate historic
area, close to downtown, where the neighbors knew each other, and crime was
nearly non-existent.

“Alright,
sweetie, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll come over and do a security check at your
house later,” he promised, giving her a quick kiss and grabbing a mochaccino
cupcake on his way out.

“Is
that what they’re calling it these days?” Missy teased, seeing him to the door
of Missy’s Muffins and More, where a deluge of customers just happened to be
entering. The detective shook his head in amusement and kept moving past the
incoming throng.

Missy
made her way behind the counter to operate the register, leaving Chris to do
the restocking of cupcakes that were flying off the shelves and Ben to fetch
and prepare orders for the people in line. The dynamic trio worked through the
line in record time, and the gentleman at the end was suitably impressed.

“Wow,
I thought that I was going to be here forever when I saw the line. You guys
really know how to take care of business,” the tanned, handsome blond
complimented Missy and the guys.

“Thanks,”
Missy breathed a sigh of relief, and absently used the back of her hand to push
a stray curl back from her forehead.

“These
cupcakes must be really spectacular to generate a crowd like that,” he
observed, eyeing the contents of the display cases.

“Well,
we hope that’s the case,” Missy grinned. “What can I get for you, Mr…?”

“Dobbs,
Carlton Dobbs,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand awkwardly over the
counter. “I’m new in town. Let’s see, I’d like to try one of your Orange Tea
Cupcakes, please,” he pointed to the elegant little cakes that were delicately
coiffed with fluffy icing.

“Good
choice,” Missy nodded as Ben reached for the cupcake and put it on a plate,
handing it to Carlton. “I’m Melissa Gladstone, just call me Missy. What brings
you to Dellville?” she asked, thinking that the man’s fine suit, impeccable
manners and precise speech were unusual.

“Work,
actually. I’m an art broker, and I do much of my work in New Orleans, but I
wanted to live somewhere a bit more…provincial,” he smiled. “I actually just
moved to LaChance. I’m only in Dellville because I’m on my way to an estate
sale in Lake Charles.”

“Well,
we’re certainly glad that you stopped by. If it’s more convenient for you, I
have a shop in LaChance as well. It’s downtown and it’s called Missy’s Muffins
and More.”

“If
this cupcake is as amazing as it looks and smells, I’ll definitely be back for
more,” the charming Mr. Dobbs assured her.

“Great,
then we’ll see you soon,” Missy grinned, before turning to head back to the
kitchen, thinking that this “new-kid-in-town” was almost as handsome and
charming as Chas Beckett. Ben looked at the stranger, then at Missy, a
thoughtful look on his face, and went back to stocking the cupcakes with Chris.

“Hey
Donna,” Missy called out cheerfully when she entered Sweet Love, the vegan ice
cream shop owned by her free-spirited friend, Echo. She was carrying a
Chocolate Toffee Crunch cupcake in hopes of cheering up the young lady. “I’m so
sorry about what happened at the bake-off,” she said, presenting the cupcake,
along with a sympathetic hug.

“It
wasn’t your fault,” the teenager said bitterly. “It was that old biddy, Mrs.
Dowler’s fault. The old wretch just doesn’t like me for some reason, so she
apparently decided to destroy my hopes for getting out of this ridiculously
small town and making something of myself. I hope she just drops dead or
something,” Donna ranted, her anger spiraling out of control.

“Hey
now,” Missy soothed, not appreciating the disrespect of an adult. “Come on
Donna, you know you don’t mean that. Don’t let your anger make you say things
that you’ll be ashamed of later.”

“I
won’t be ashamed. She’s a horrible person, and she can just take a flying leap
for all I care,” the petulant girl huffed.

Seeing
that this particular conversation would go nowhere, Missy dropped off the
cupcake, waiting for another time to approach the bitter girl about her Peanut
Butter and Jelly recipe. She walked back across the street, shaking her head
sadly. It was just such a shame that, sometimes people let events that seem
small in the grand scheme of things, change them profoundly. She sincerely
hoped that Donna would snap out of it, and sooner rather than later. The girl
was much too young to stay bitter.

**

Missy
reflected on her earlier conversation with Donna, glad that she had always been
a “glass-half-full” optimistic kind of gal. Life was just too darn short to
waste time with negativity. She finished tying her running shoes, grabbed
Toffee’s leash and snapped it on the excited retriever’s collar. Stepping out
into the sunshine, she inhaled deeply, glad to be alive and well, with her
beloved pet by her side. The happy duo set out at a light jog, headed for the
park. When they passed the first cross street, Missy heard someone calling her
name, and turned toward the voice, curious.

She
didn’t recognize the tall, visibly fit man at first, but when he jogged over to
her, she realized that it was Carlton Dobbs, the man she’d met at the Dellville
shop earlier. He had a sleek Doberman at his side, who seemed to be more than
wary of Missy and Toffee.

“Carlton,
I hadn’t realized that you moved into this neighborhood,” she said with a
smile.

“Hi
Missy,” he greeted her, then stretched out his hand for Toffee to sniff, the
Doberman growling low in his throat all the while. “I didn’t move into this
neighborhood, the houses are rather large for a bachelor who’s never home. I
just love the open spaces in the park. That’s where Chauncey and I are headed.”

“We
are too,” she remarked. “I know what you mean about the open spaces, it’s one
of our favorite places. That’s where we’re headed too.”

“Well,
mind if we tag along?” Dobbs asked with a friendly grin.

“Not
at all, but I’m not sure Chauncey wants the company,” she observed, noting that
the dog’s teeth were showing slightly.

“Oh,
he’ll be alright. Part of why I take him to the park is so that he’ll become
accustomed to the company of others. He’s a rescue who apparently hasn’t had
much contact with the outside world, poor guy,” Carlton reached down to pat the
dog’s sleek coat.

“Well,
maybe Toffee will be a good influence,” Missy mused. “She loves everybody.”

“That’s
great,” he nodded, reaching out to scratch the placid animal behind the ears.
She quickly moved away from his touch and stood behind Missy.

“Well,
that’s strange,” Missy said, looking from Toffee to Carlton, taking in her
pet’s reluctance to interact.

“Maybe
she smells Chauncey on my hand and just isn’t ready to make friends yet,” Dobbs
offered easily. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the park. Missy fell in
step with him at a slow jog, making sure to keep Toffee close to her opposite
side, far away from the antisocial Chauncey.

Once
at the park, the two animals relaxed around each other, and were soon engaged
in a rollicking game of fetch with their owners. After about an hour, Toffee
came over to Missy for a drink of water in her portable bowl, signaling that
play time was over.

“Well,
my girl has spoken,” Missy chuckled. “Time for us to head home.”

“Thank
you for the pleasure of your company,” Carlton moved closer, ostensibly to pet
Toffee’s head. “Perhaps we can do this again some time,” he offered casually.

“We’re
here all the time, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again,” Missy replied,
politely avoiding his question. She didn’t want to embarrass him, but part of
her felt that, even if all they were doing was allowing the dogs to play
together, it might seem inappropriate for someone who was in a happy and
healthy relationship.

“I’ll
look forward to it,” Dobbs replied warmly, raising a hand in farewell, then
tossing a ball downfield for Chauncey. Missy jogged home with Toffee, thinking
about how pleasant her time with Carlton had been. She felt like she’d just
made a new friend.

Later,
as she was settling in for the night, Missy had the strange sensation that she
was being watched, and pulled the sides of her fluffy chenille robe closer
around her. She had followed Chas’s advice and secured her doors and windows
long before dark, but she was still aware of how entirely alone she was, with
the exception of a golden retriever who was so sweet that she wouldn’t bite if
someone wrapped their hand in bacon and placed it in her mouth. Peering
stealthily out of the side of her dining room curtains, she could’ve sworn that
she saw a flicker of light, but when she focused on the area where she thought
that she’d seen it, there was nothing there. Sighing at her self-induced
paranoia, she trudged up the stairs to bed, Toffee at her heels.