Vanilla Beaned (15 page)

“What do you think it means?” Oz asked.

“I think whatever is happening is aimed at Holly, and I think it's moved from trying to stop her from opening the bakery to trying to stop her permanently,” Mel said. “It could be this stalker she has, maybe they're freaking out so much that she's leaving the show that they'd rather see her dead.”

“That's seriously twisted,” Oz said.

“I can't think of any other explanation,” Mel said. “Can you?”

Both Oz and Marty looked thoughtful and then they shook their heads. They had no answers and Mel didn't have any, either. Either the shooting at the house was about something else entirely or the person after Holly had gone from stopping her dream of opening a bakery to out and out trying to kill her.

Mel fell asleep poolside. She blamed the apple brioche but she knew it was really just her body's reaction to all the stress. There was no greater cure for anxiety than a
bowl full of frosting or a nap. Given the extra weight she was now carrying, she was glad the nap had won that round.

Mel staggered out of her chair. Marty and Oz were gone, presumably to another Elvis impersonator event. When she glanced at the suite, Holly was back in the kitchen while Sydney sat at the counter coloring with crayons.

Mel opened the door and stepped inside. The heady smell of vanilla hit her senses and she thought she might just get to try her other stress buster.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked.

“Baking,” Holly said. “It's my stress reliever. Mario was super cool about sending up some ingredients so I could play in the kitchen.”

“Mind if I join you?” Mel asked as she scrubbed her hands at the sink.

“I don't know,” Holly said. She gave Mel a considering look. “Do you have any experience?”

“No, but I am an excellent taste tester,” Mel retorted.

“Well, I suppose everyone has to start somewhere,” Holly said.

They set to work, finishing up the vanilla cupcakes. They tried a variety of frosting techniques and Mel was pleased to see that Holly had a wide knowledge base when it came to style and technique. She also had a good eye for presentation.

“Where did you acquire your baking skills if you never attended culinary school?” Mel asked.

“I learned by doing,” Holly said. “My grandmother, Mammie Cay, owned a bakery in Shellsburg, Iowa, population nine hundred and seventy-three.”

“You worked for her?”

“Sort of. My dad ran out when I was a baby, so my mom
and I went to live with Mammie Cay. Mom worked in the bakery, and when I was old enough, I helped out after school and on weekends,” Holly said.

“Sounds nice.”

“I hated it.”

Mel gave her a confused look as she watched Holly squeeze her pastry bag and make a perfect swirl of thick, delicious vanilla buttercream on the cupcake.

“I wanted to be a movie star,” Holly said. “That's why I took off at seventeen. I bought a bus ticket to get me as far away from Iowa as possible. I made it as far as Vegas before I ran out of money. I figured it was close enough to Hollywood, and I figured I'd save my money and then I'd get to Los Angeles.”

“Never got there, huh?”

“No,” she said. “I got hired as a cigarette girl, then a dancer, I met Billy, who was dealing blackjack in the Blue Hawaiian, fell in love, got pregnant, got married, yes, in that order. Then Billy lost his job and I had to work more shows and longer hours to make up the income.

“I was never home and Billy was playing Mr. Mom. We were so unhappy, we separated. Then he went back to school and met Lisa.”

“Sounds like it was rough,” Mel said.

“It was, but I got Sydney out of it, and after a while when the glitz and glamour started to wear thin, I realized I missed the bakery,” Holly said. “I longed for the comforting smell of breads, cookies, pies, and cake, mostly cake, and then I realized that was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”

“Did you ever consider going back to Shellsburg?”

“No, my mom sold the bakery after Mammie Cay died and retired to Florida. It wouldn't have been the same,” Holly said. “Besides, I can't take Sydney away from Billy. No matter what he and I went through, he's always been a great dad.”

“How does he feel about you opening the bakery?”

“He hasn't said much, but I can tell he's relieved. With a new baby on the way, it'll be easier for them if I'm available to have Sydney at night. I don't think I slept a full night for the entire first year after Sydney arrived.”

“Sydney did mention Lisa's condition,” Mel said. “Is she excited to be a big sister?”

“She is,” Holly said. “And maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I think she's excited to get to spend more time with me. We've never really had that before. Lisa and Billy have been the ones to tuck her in most nights, they get to do family dinner and bath times, all of it.”

“That has to be hard,” Mel said. “How about Lisa's family? Does Sydney get to spend time with them?”

“No, her only grandparents are my mom and Billy's parents. I don't know the details but I know Lisa only has one brother that she's in touch with and he's been in and out of jail for a variety of misdeeds.”

“When the baby comes, I'm sure she'll be happy to have you available to take care of Sydney,” Mel said.

“That's assuming we actually manage to open a bakery.” Holly sighed. She went from looking happy and excited to sad and anxious so fast that Mel got whiplash.

“We will,” Mel said with far more confidence than she
felt. “I don't know what is going on or why all of these crazy things keep happening, but I am not giving up on opening this franchise and neither should you.”

“Did you hear that, Angie?” Tate asked as he entered the room. “Mel has crossed over.” Then he lowered his voice and added, “‘Impressive. Most impressive. Obi-Wan has taught you well. You have controlled your fear.'”

“
Empire Strikes Back
,” Angie and Holly identified the movie quote at the same time and then exchanged a high five.

“See?” Tate asked. “She really is our people.”

Manny popped into the kitchen, and Sydney handed over the seven pictures she had drawn for him. Manny took the time to appreciate each one, pointing out what he especially liked in each picture, even the portrait of him that made him look a bit like Sasquatch.

Sydney slid her hand into Manny's hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and he grinned down at her like a man completely beguiled by his little princess. He picked her up and swung her in the air to sit on the counter and Sydney squealed with delight.

“I don't want to go, Mommy,” Sydney said. “I want to stay here with you and Manny.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I would love that, but I have to work tonight,” Holly said. “Besides, your dad will be here any minute to pick you up.”

Sydney opened her mouth, looking about to protest, but Manny hunkered down and met her gaze.

“It's only fair,” he said. “I need to practice my Go Fish skills so you don't thump me again tomorrow.”

“She beat you?” Mel asked.

“Three games in a row,” he said. “I'm pretty sure she's a hustler.” He looked at Sydney and asked, “You are, aren't you?”

Sydney giggled. “No, you're just really bad at cards.”

The rest of the grown-ups laughed at Manny's feigned chagrin. A knock at the door interrupted the moment and Manny excused himself to go answer it.

“That'll be your dad, say good-bye to our friends and we'll go meet him,” Holly said. She lifted Sydney down from the counter.

“Good-bye,” Sydney said. She grabbed Rupert, her panda bear, hugged each of them in turn, and followed her mom to the door.

“Cute kid,” Angie said. She turned to look at Tate. “I think I want a couple of those.”

“I don't know,” he said. He shook his head, looking doubtful. “I think it takes a lot of practice to make one.”

Angie giggled and Mel rolled her eyes.

“Back to the subject at hand,” Mel said. “I've been doing some thinking.”

“While napping in your lounger?” Angie asked.

Mel gave her a squinty eye. “Yeah, as if you two were doing anything more constructive while I was sleeping.”

Tate and Angie exchanged a hot glance and Mel blew out a breath before turning to Tate. “I take it your melon is just fine?”

“Hard like a brick,” he said. He knocked on his temple to prove it.

“I don't think what's happening is directed at us,” Mel said.

Both Tate and Angie grew abruptly serious, and Angie asked, “What makes you say that?”

“If it were Tucci, we'd be dead,” Mel said.

“I had the same thought,” Tate said. “His people don't miss, not three times.”

“So, if Holly is the target, we need to stick with her at all times, correct?” Mel asked.

“Have you talked to Manny?” Tate asked.

“Not yet,” Mel said. “But I'm betting he's come to the same conclusion. I don't know how much the Las Vegas PD can help us, given that we have no idea who is doing this. We could try to convince Holly to go into hiding for a while.”

“No,” Holly said. She and Manny joined them in the kitchen. “Hiding is only a temporary solution. I need to find out who is doing this.”

Mel noticed Manny giving Holly an admiring glance. She tried not to let it bug her.

“You three and Marty and Oz need to head back to Scottsdale,” Manny said. “It's too dangerous for you to be here. If this person has gone over the edge, there's no telling what they'll do to anyone who gets in their way.”

Tate reached up and rubbed the sore spot on his head. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”

“I'm not leaving,” Mel said. “The more of us to watch over you, the more likely we are to catch the person.”

“No!” Holly argued. “If anything happened to any of you, I couldn't live with myself. Really, you have to go back where it's safe. Once this is over, we can try the franchise thing again.”

Mel knew that running back to Scottsdale wasn't an option. Much like Holly felt about them, she knew she couldn't live with herself if anything happened to Holly.

“You know that's not going to happen, right?” she asked Manny. “Even if the Las Vegas PD help, how much can they do when we don't know who is behind this? You need us.”

Manny ran a hand through his hair. He looked at Holly and said, “She's right.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Angie cut in. “This franchise thing, it's a ‘one for all and all for one' sort of deal.”

She put her hand out in front of Holly and Tate put his hand on top of hers. After some hesitation, Holly put her hand on top of theirs, followed by Manny and then Mel. The pact was made. There was no going back now.

“I do
not
see how this makes us blend,” Mel said. “Everyone is going to be staring at us.”

“No, they won't,” Tate said. “If you're going to hang out backstage, then you need to look like one of the girls. Otherwise, you really will stick out.”

“Close your eyes, I need to put your eye shadow on,” Margie the makeup girl said while snapping her gum.

Mel was a little afraid of her so she did as she was told.

“This is so fun,” Angie said. “You have to take pictures before you go. No one will ever believe this, me and Mel posing as backup showgirls.”

“I will,” Tate said. He was tricked out in a slick suit and looked every inch the wealthy mogul he used to be. Mel knew that if he had his way, they were all going to be disgustingly wealthy from franchising the bakery. Not for the first time, she wondered why she resisted his business smarts. Oh, yeah, it was her obsessive controlling nature.

Mel's eyelids itched and she reached up to rub them, but Margie smacked her hand away. “Don't touch, you'll smear.”

“How much makeup remover is needed to take all of this off?” Mel asked.

“A lot,” Margie said helpfully.

“And people do this voluntarily?” Mel asked.

“All the time,” Margie said.

“Can I open my eyes now?” she asked.

“Yes, but don't touch your face.”

Mel opened her eyes. The face staring back at her from the mirror was unrecognizable. She turned to look at Angie, who was in the chair beside her.

“Whoa.”

“I know, right?” Angie asked.

They both looked like they'd been hit by a glitter bomb. Mel's eyelids wore a thick coating of silver with heavy eyeliner making her eyes huge to the point where she looked like an anime character. The eyes were balanced by her lips in a hot pink, and the blush on her cheeks was just as dazzling.

“And now for the finishing touch,” Margie said. She held up a sparkly costume. “If you really want to blend, you need to be dressed.”

“But isn't this someone else's outfit?” Mel asked.

“It's a backup,” Margie said. “Just like your friend's outfit. If ever one of the girls suffers a wardrobe malfunction, we keep a few spares on hand.”

Mel looked doubtfully at the sheer spangled number. “Do you have a shoehorn to help me into that thing?”

Margie grinned. “It stretches.”

“And then it rips,” Mel added.

Margie laughed and then she frowned. “It better not. Wardrobe will kill me.”

“It won't rip,” Holly said. She was sitting in front of her own mirror, finishing up her makeup. Gone was the fresh-faced cupcake baker from earlier. Now she was all eye-poppingly gorgeous with a side of va-va-va-voom. “Remember Belinda?”

“Oh, yeah, she was a big-boned girl,” Margie said. “Real light on her feet, though.”