Read Strawberry Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 13 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Online
Authors: Carol Durand,Summer Prescott
Strawberry Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 13 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)
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Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction.
Names,
characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of
the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2015
by Maven Publishing - All rights reserved.
All rights
Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted
from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning,
photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright
holder.
Table of Contents
“Absolutely
not, I refuse. Thank you for calling, but the answer is no,” Melissa Gladstone,
owner of two cupcake bakeries,
Missy’s Muffins and More
in LaChance,
Louisiana, and
Crème de la Cupcake
in neighboring Dellville, firmly
pressed the End button on her phone, hanging up on the Hollywood producer who
had been on the other end of the line. When her phone began ringing immediately
from an “Unknown” number, she sent the call directly to voicemail. The spunky
40-something blonde had done quite well competing on a nationally televised
reality show called “Cutthroat Cupcakes” a few months ago, but had been more
than eager to return to normal life in Louisiana. The final show had never
taken place, due to the untimely death of one of the judges, but Missy’s
business grew by leaps and bounds after her appearance on the show. She had
been one of two final contestants, and upon her return to bayou country, it was
all she could do to keep up with the increased volume of customers.
The
producer whom she’d just shut down, had wanted to bring a film crew to Missy’s
store once a week to film a series on her little hometown bakeries. They would
record her and her staff in action – everything from creating new recipes, to
baking, to interacting with customers, for a new show entitled “
The Bayou
Baker
.” Having dealt with enough phony and sometimes cruel Hollywood types,
she had flatly refused. She had no business being on television – she enjoyed the
small town atmosphere in both of her quaint little shops, and felt that
commercializing her operations by featuring them on television would somehow
diminish her ability to give her customers the 100% satisfaction in product and
service that they’d grown to expect.
Tossing
her phone onto a desk stacked high with invoices, accounting and recipe notes,
Missy headed for the front of the LaChance shop,
Missy’s Muffins and More
,
having heard the bell over the front door jangle from where she had been pacing
in the back hall. Her shop manager, a very pregnant Cheryl Radigan was laughing
and talking with Missy’s best friend, Echo Willis, at the front counter. Echo
owned a vegan ice cream shop across the street from Missy’s Dellville store,
and the two had become fast friends when she had moved to Louisiana from
California more than a year ago. The free-spirited former Californian dressed
in comfortably draped natural fabrics, wore her hair down and wild, and always
smelled vaguely of patchouli.
“Hey
girl!” Missy grinned, hugging her friend. “What are you doing in this neck of
the woods?”
“The
craft shop in Dellville was out of jewelry wire, so I figured I’d give the one
here a shot.”
“Uh-huh,”
the cupcake artist nodded knowingly. “I’m sure your visit had nothing to do
with the fact that the cupcake of the day today happens to be Vegan Carob
Banana, right?”
“Nothing
whatsoever,” Echo laughed, looking like she’d been caught with her hand in the
cookie jar.
“Shall
I hook her up, Ms. G.?” Cheryl asked with a smile.
“Absolutely.
She’s my source for Vanilla Bean Rice Dream, so I try to keep her happy,” Missy
winked. She poured two cups of coffee and led her friend to a table in the
corner, where they could enjoy their cupcakes and catch up.
“How’s
Mr. Wonderful?” Echo began their conversation by asking about the handsome
local detective, Chas Beckett, whom Missy had been seeing for more than a year.
“Amazing,
as usual,” her friend replied, taking a large bite of cupcake.
“You’re
so lucky…I’m beginning to think that our particular corner of Louisiana has run
out of eligible men,” she sighed, delicately removing the foil wrapper from her
treat.
Missy
swallowed her bite of cupcake, washing it down with steaming hot coffee. “I
thought you were going to try that online dating site that you were talking
about the other day, what was it called?” she frowned, trying to remember.
“Introduce
Me,” Echo supplied. “I made a profile, and I’ve heard from a few men, but I
don’t think they read my information before sending me a ‘flirt blurt.’ I
mentioned in there that I’m vegan, and one guy who sent me a flirt blurt had a
prominent photo of himself holding up the bloody head of a dead deer,” she
shuddered.
“Oh
no!” Missy sympathized. “Well, give it some time, you’ve only been on there for
a couple of days, right?”
Echo
nodded. “Yeah, I’ve pretty much given up, but I’m leaving my profile out there
just in case.”
The
two women chatted for just over an hour, refilling their mugs of coffee at
least twice, before Echo rose to go. The friends hugged goodbye, with promises
to get together again soon. It was a rare week when the two of them didn’t get
to see each other at least four or five times. After her morning break with her
bestie, Missy helped Cheryl tidy up the eating area, restock the cases, and
plan out the Cupcake of the Day for each day of the upcoming week.
When
the bell above the front door jangled merrily again, she was delighted to see
the five members of her favorite book club,
Burgundies and Books
, coming
in, along with their newest member, Samantha Lemmon, a new nurse at the local
hospital. The founder, and generally accepted ringleader of the group, Sally
Higgins, came up to the counter with Samantha, to say hello and place the order
for the group.
“Good
morning, Miss Sally,” Missy beamed. She sometimes joined the group for their
Thursday book nights, and always looked forward to their Tuesday coffee and
cupcake gatherings. “How are you on this fine Louisiana day?”
“Spectacular,
thank you. Sam and I are going to have a meeting to make arrangements for a
Garden Walk in the spring, so we’ll be staying a little later than the rest of
the gals today,” the stylish woman who was about Missy’s age replied.
“Marsha
isn’t heading that up this year?” Missy asked, glancing over at the table where
pale, thin, mousy-haired Marsha sat with the other ladies, trying to appear as
though she wasn’t straining to hear the conversation at the counter. She
glanced up briefly and Missy smiled and waved.
“Uh…no,
she isn’t,” Sally replied without further comment, leaving Missy to wonder what
the story behind the change in leadership on the annual Garden Walk was all
about. Marsha and Sally had worked together on the event for years. Figuring
that she’d ask Sally about it later, Missy poured six mugs of coffee and placed
them on a tray to take to the ladies, while Cheryl plated and served six
Cupcakes of the Day. She noted with interest that, although Marsha had been the
one to introduce Sam to the group, the two sat as far away from each other as
possible, with Sam and Sally engrossed in a serious conversation.
Once
the ladies were served, Missy untied her apron, hung it up on a peg in the
spotless commercial kitchen and headed for her office, where her phone buzzed
insistently on her desk. The caller’s number was one that she didn’t recognize,
but she answered anyway.
“Melissa
Gladstone,” she said, flipping through some invoices and holding the phone to
her ear with her shoulder.
“Please
don’t hang up, Melissa,” the somewhat familiar voice on the other end implored.
“I really need to talk to you about…”
Missy’s
world was suddenly rocked by a loud BOOM! in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, there’s
an emergency, you’ll have to call back,” she said hurriedly, pressing the End
button on her phone and tossing it on the desk. She ran to the kitchen,
dismayed to see one of her gas stoves blackened, and the surrounding wall on
fire. Cheryl had come running in from the front, and Missy was relieved to see
that the hugely pregnant young woman hadn’t been hurt.
“Get
any customers out of the store, and stay out of the building,” she ordered,
trying to stay calm. “I’m calling 911.”
“So
how much damage was done?” tall, dark and handsome detective Chas Beckett
asked, digging his fork into a luscious pile of collard greens. He knew that
after the harrowing day Missy had, comfort food was in order, so he took her to
one of their favorite local cafes for dinner.
“I
don’t know yet,” she sighed, tearing off tiny pieces of cornbread and dipping
them into the sauce of her barbequed beans. “I’m meeting a contractor tomorrow
for an estimate on repairing the structural damage. The stove is unsalvageable,
and there will have to be a new countertop installed on one side. I’m just glad
that no one was hurt.”
Chas
nodded. “That’s the important thing,” he agreed. “Is Cheryl okay? That had to
have been quite a shock.”
“Yes,
she’s fine. A little shaken up, understandably, but fine. I’m sending her to
the Dellville store to help Ben and Chris out while we rebuild,” Missy replied,
sipping her sweet tea.
“Well,
please know that I’ll help in any way that I can,” his blue eyes were filled
with compassion that made Missy’s throat close with emotion. Chas’s father had
passed several months ago, leaving the detective with an actual fortune, and
Missy knew that he could help her out financially, but she had been keeping her
family’s business afloat since her parents were killed in a tragic accident
when she was seventeen, and she wasn’t about to relinquish her stubborn independence
because of an unforeseen event.
“I
know, Chas. Thank you,” she said, reaching across the table to squeeze his
hand. She loved this man with every fiber of her being, which was funny and
ironic, because neither of them had been open to the idea of having a
relationship when they’d met, and now they were inseparable.
Her
phone buzzed, interrupting the moment, and she looked down at it with mild
annoyance. Recognizing that the caller was the same person she’d hung up on
when the explosion occurred, she took the call, apologizing to her charming
dinner companion as she answered.
“Melissa
Gladstone,” she gave her standard answer.
“Oh
my goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay,” the still-vaguely familiar voice
exclaimed. “Was that an explosion I heard earlier?”
“Yes,
it was, and yes, I’m fine, thank you. Who is this exactly?” Missy asked without
diplomacy, her rough day catching up with her.
“It’s
Robin Campbell. I’m the Production Assistant from Horizon Studios in
Hollywood,” the caller admitted, somewhat apologetically. “Look,” she began,
before Missy could protest or hang up. “I know you have two businesses to run
and that you’re a very busy gal, but I want you to know that I’ve been authorized
to offer you a significant sum of money if you’ll agree to do a
Bayou Baker
show for us once a week in one of your cupcake shops. We’ll do everything we
can to make certain that we stay out of your way and let you do your own thing,
but I think that our viewers will really appreciate having a glimpse into your
world,” she pleaded.
It
was on the tip of Missy’s tongue to nicely but firmly decline, but then she
remembered the costs involved in rebuilding the part of her shop that had been
affected by the fire.
“What
do you consider a significant sum of money?” she asked, carefully not
committing, but leaving the door open to that possibility.
“I’d
be happy to fly out there tomorrow and talk with you about it,” was the
enthusiastic reply. “We can discuss terms and contracts, and if you’re
comfortable with everything, we can get started as early as next week.”
“I
have a lot on my plate for tomorrow,” Missy mused, still torn.
“No
problem, I’ll work around your schedule. We can meet at two o’clock in the
morning if you need to,” Robin assured her. “Thanks so much for agreeing to
talk with me. You have my person tomorrow,” she said, hanging up before Missy
could change her mind.
“What
was that all about?” Chas asked, savoring a tender bite of pulled pork,
drenched in Smoky Sweet BBQ sauce.
“Looks
like I’m going to be a TV star,” Missy answered, shaking her head in disbelief.