Dark Chocolate Demise (14 page)

“At their wedding I remember someone telling me that Kristin was an accountant in a local firm,” Mel said. “Could she have enemies of her own? Could it be that the shooting has nothing to do with Tucci or Angie or any of us?”

“What part of ‘I am not talking to you about this' do you not understand?” he asked.

Mel frowned at him and sank onto her futon. There was so much she didn't understand about this whole situation. She couldn't help feeling that if she just had more information, she could figure out if Angie had really been the target.

The pictures of Frank Tucci's known associates had done nothing for her. She didn't recognize any of them as regulars in the bakery or from the zombie walk. Still, now she had names. She could look in the bakery records and see if she'd ever done a custom order for any of these guys. If she had, it would make more sense that there might be a tie to the bakery other than the one time she had delivered cupcakes to Frank and Mickey's.

Of course, there was no way that she was going to tell Manny what she was thinking. Joe, Stan, and Manny were being overprotective as it was, Tate and the brothers were the same with Angie, and now Roach was neurotic as well. As far as she and Angie went, they were hip deep in men with no answers. This really didn't work for Mel. And Manny tapping away on his laptop while she slept wasn't going to work for her, either.

How could Joe not know how weird this was? Did he think now that she'd agreed to give him another chance she was immune to the detective? Or did it just signify that he trusted her completely? That was so Joe, it made her smile.

Then she thought about spending a night alone with Manny in her apartment, and she was sure Joe was out of his mind. Did he think she was made of stone?

“I can't sleep,” she said. “I'm going down to the bakery to restock the many cupcakes that the brothers ate today.”

“You're going down to bake
now
?” Manny asked.

“No time like the present,” she said.

“Is this because I'm here?” he asked.

Mel thought about lying, but really what was the point? He knew her too well.

“Yes,” she said. “How am I supposed to sleep with you in the room? It's just . . . weird.”

Manny gave her a lopsided smile. “That's what a guy wants to hear.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“I do,” he said. “Look, you won't even know I'm here. I'm reviewing all of the camera footage we collected from the zombie walk via security cameras and cell phones in an effort to find something, anything that gives us a clue as to who shot our victim. It'll take hours and I promise I won't make a sound.”

“Good thing you can do that down in the bakery,” Mel said. “You can sit out front with Captain Jack while I work in the kitchen.”

Manny rubbed his jaw and stared at her. Then he smiled. It was a slow smile that started at one corner of his mouth and slid across his lips with the same brilliance and promise of a sunrise.

Mel swallowed. “What?”

“You're afraid to be alone with me,” he said.

“Pah!” Mel scoffed but she could feel the heat in her face and knew she was blushing. She grabbed a sweatshirt off of the hook by the back door and yanked it over her head. “I am not.”

Her sweatshirt got stuck and she knew her words were lost as she tried to wrestle the stupid thing on. She felt a pair of hands tug on the hem of her sweatshirt, and when her head popped through the neck hole it was to find Manny standing very close, smiling down at her.

“What was that?” he asked. “I couldn't hear you.”

“I am not afraid to be alone with you,” she said. She didn't meet his eyes. “I simply have a lot of work to do and, thanks to Roach's visit, a raging case of adrenaline-induced insomnia.”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“Come on, Jack.” She made kissy noises and Jack scampered to the door. He loved it when Mel went down to the bakery at night. He shot out the door and down the stairs right to the kitchen entrance of the bakery. Mel followed with Manny right behind her, his laptop under his arm.

Mel switched on the kitchen light and locked the back door behind them.

“I don't let Jack run around the kitchen while I'm baking,” she said. She offered Manny a cupcake to take into the front of the bakery with him. “Can you keep him entertained out front?”

“Sure, come on little fella,” he said. “You sure you don't want us in here with you?”

“Yes,” Mel said. Mostly, she needed to put some space between herself and Manny for her own peace of mind, but also she didn't let Jack hang out in the kitchen when she was cooking. “Cat hair.”

Manny nodded. He double-checked the back door and the inside shutters, which Mel closed every night to keep the bakery secure.

“No one can see in through these,” he said. “If you hear anything, or even if you just get a funky feeling, call me.”

“Will do,” she said.

He stood in the kitchen and assessed the room one more time. Finally, with a nod, he and Jack disappeared through the swinging doors into the front of the bakery.

Mel had to admit that having him here made her feel much more at ease than she would have felt alone. She quickly gathered her ingredients for a batch of Cookies and Cream cupcakes. She preheated her convection oven and got out her industrial-sized cupcake pan that baked thirty-six.

She wondered how Angie was doing. Then she thought about the brothers. Good grief. Would tomorrow bring more of the same? She didn't know if she could handle that. Then she wondered what Joe had to say about his brothers' job as bodyguards. She could only imagine how he must have felt if he sent Manny here for the graveyard shift.

She wondered how Joe was feeling about his case. Then she wondered how Scott Streubel was doing. She whisked her dry ingredients while her wet ingredients were beating in her large mixer. Slowly she added her dry ingredients to the bigger bowl. She watched as the beaters churned the cupcake batter until it was smooth.

Once it was finished, she grabbed a clean ice cream scoop and used it to plop the batter into the paper liners in the cupcake pan. Using the scoop kept the amounts uniform so that all of the cupcakes were the same size.

She slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. While those baked, she whipped up a batch of buttercream frosting with crushed Oreo cookies in it. She thought about poking her head through the door and checking on Manny, but she knew he had to work. She wondered how looking at endless footage of the zombie walk was going for a guy who didn't like zombies.

She was curious but not enough to engage him in conversation. She knew playing with fire often led to third-degree burns, and she had no desire to be scorched.

None of this would matter if she and Joe were together. Heck, if she and Joe were together, Manny wouldn't even be here. That sort of made her feel bad, which made her confused, so she shook it off and focused on the task in front of her. She put aside the frosting and prepped another batch of cupcakes, using another industrial cupcake pan.

The goopy texture of the batter reminded Mel of her personal life, which was a mess and as far as she could tell there was absolutely nothing she could do about it; not even shoving it in a three-hundred-and-fifty-degree oven to bake would help. Darn it. Why couldn't relationships be as simple as cooking?

Baking was simple science. Flour and eggs were the foundation of the cake, which was moistened by the fat and sugar. For a perfect cupcake, all Mel needed to do was mind the ratio of foundation to moistness. Why couldn't relationships be this simple? Too much flour and eggs, and the cake was tough and dry. Too much fat and sugar, and the cake was soupy and wouldn't set.

She felt like maybe her relationship with Joe had too much fat and sugar since they couldn't seem to get it set. Hmm. Joe did have a legendary sweet tooth; maybe there was more to her theory than she realized.

Ugh.
She shook her head. She wasn't going to think about it anymore. Instead, she thought about all she'd learned about the case Joe was working on. He'd refused to talk to her about any of it, determined to keep her as far away from it as possible.

Fine. Whatever. She had more information now than she had since the whole nightmare began. She walked by the swinging kitchen doors to see Manny sitting in a booth, looking at his laptop, while Captain Jack played hockey with the crinkled-up cupcake wrapper from Manny's lemon cupcake.

Since they both seemed occupied, she thought this might be a good time to see if any of Tucci's thugs were in her customer file.

She stepped into her tiny office, which was formerly the supply closet. She switched on her desktop computer and waited. The sound the computer made once it was fully functional made her cringe. She hoped Manny hadn't heard it. But so what if he had? She would just say she was looking up a cupcake recipe.

Wait, why did she have to explain herself at all? So what if she wanted to look through her customer files. Surely, that wasn't a crime, right? Okay, even Mel could see she was already too defensive. She blamed it on the exhaustion hovering around her brain, making her grumpy.

She opened her customer file on her desktop. Since she had first opened Fairy Tale Cupcakes, she had meticulously collected the mailing addresses of all of her special order customers. They were alphabetic by name, so checking to see if any of Tucci's thugs had placed an order with the bakery should be pretty snappy.

She scrolled through the list, jumping through the alphabet by clicking on the letter of the alphabet that corresponded with the thug's last name. Of course, for Tommy the Knuckle, she was out of luck, as she seriously doubted that he had done business with the bakery using his nickname, and Manny hadn't told her his real name.

She was almost done with her list when the oven timer went off. She went out to grab her first batch of cupcakes before they were burnt. She slid the next batch into the oven and paused by the kitchen door to check on Manny and Jack.

Manny had shifted so that he was leaning back in the booth. He had Captain Jack in his arms, and the two of them looked to be half-asleep. Mel figured she'd better get them a pillow and blanket. Manny could say he was going to stay up all night, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to need a power nap.

Since Mel was prone to pulling all-nighters, using her office to take quick catnaps, she kept a couple of pillows and fluffy blankets in the cupboard in her office. She retrieved her favorite Strawberry Shortcake pillow and fleece blankie and brought them out to Manny.

He glanced from his computer screen to her and back. He tapped a button on the keypad and looked at her.

“Tell me that is not for me,” he said.

“Okay, it's not for you, it's for Captain Jack,” she said. “It gets chilly in here at night; you might want to keep warm, er, that is, keep Captain Jack warm.”

Manny took the pillow and tucked it behind his head while pulling the big blanket over his lap.

“Okay, but just for Jack,” he said. “You seriously don't have anything more manly than this?”

“Sorry, no,” she said.

Manny rubbed Jack's ears. “Don't worry about it, buddy, it'll be our secret, and next time I see you, I'll hook you up with a cool Avengers blanket. I promise.”

Mel turned away before he caught her smiling. Honestly, she could have given him the Spider-Man blanket that Tate kept in the office for his power naps, but what would be the fun in that?

“How much longer will you be baking?” Manny asked.

“One more batch,” Mel said over her shoulder. “I promise.”

Manny nodded and she noted that he looked exhausted. She could only imagine the kind of pressure he and Stan were facing from above to try to solve this murder. Not to mention the extra incentive of tying it to Frank Tucci.

She saw Jack begin to knead the fuzzy blanket where it draped across Manny's chest. It looked like the boys were settled in. She hurried back to the kitchen to check on her cupcakes and finish looking at her customer list.

She took the second batch out of the oven to cool. She'd wait to frost them. She put her mixing bowls into her industrial dishwasher and then slipped into her office to finish her search.

She finished her customer list and came up with only two possibilities. She'd dig further tomorrow and see if there was a match. On a whim, the last name she checked was Tucci. She knew her old order for the party would be listed there but wondered if they'd ever ordered anything else.

Mel clicked on the letter
T
and then scrolled to the bottom. Sure enough, the name Tucci was listed. When she opened the order, she saw that the order had been made by Vincent Tucci, so nothing for Frank then. She reread the order, wondering if at the time she'd had any inkling of what was to come.

Mel read the order. It was for three dozen of her Tiramisu cupcakes. She remembered now. She had delivered the cupcakes to Frank and Mickey's for an anniversary party. She checked the date. It had been two years ago, but if she remembered right, the cupcakes had been a huge hit and there had been some polite talk about Mel baking for Frank and Mickey's on a weekly basis.

Shortly thereafter Frank had been arrested, so Mel was quite sure the family's priorities had shifted; still she wondered if it would give her reason enough to stop by the restaurant just to network as it were.

No, she couldn't do that. She could already hear the yelling from Joe, Uncle Stan, and Manny, not to mention the rest of the DeLaura brothers, Tate, Oz, and Marty. Angie might be on board, but since she could be a target, Mel couldn't ask her to join her in her information gathering.

Mel blew out a breath. She shut down her computer and resigned herself to storing her cooled cupcakes and frosting and going to bed. She glanced through the kitchen window and saw Manny with his head lolled back on the pillow in the wide corner booth. His computer looked as if it had gone dark, and Jack was curled up into a little ball on his chest.

She didn't have the heart to wake him up so she could sleep in her bed while he crashed on, what, the tiny armchair in her living room? No, the booths here in the bakery were wide and pretty comfy. Goodness knew she had slept in them often enough.

She grabbed Tate's Spider-Man pillow and blanket and climbed into the booth next to Manny's and stretched out. Her feet dangled off the edge so she moved one of her free-standing chairs to the end of the bench seat so that her feet were secure. Wrapping the fuzzy blanket around her body like a snuggly cocoon, Mel thought about how she could plausibly just pop in at Frank and Mickey's. An idea came to her in a flash but before it was fully formed, she slipped into a deep sleep.

“How big of a beating do you think Manny will put on me when he finds out I took a picture of him in that blanket?”

“I'm thinking you're going to need a body cast.”

Mel pulled her blanket up around her ears trying to block the noise. Why were people talking in the middle of the night? Didn't they know this was sleepy time?

“I think it was worth the risk. In fact, I'm going to take two.”

A bright light flashed and Mel felt it poke her eyelids.

“What the hell?” a deep voice barked.

“Easy, big fella.”

Mel sighed and eased the blanket off of her head. It took her a moment to remember that she was sacked out in one of the bakery booths. Then she moved her head and her neck got locked in a crooked position.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she said as she sat up. Captain Jack was sprawled along the top of the booth with his feet hanging over on each side. Mel gingerly turned her head and saw Manny blinking at her over the feline's back.

“Mornin',” he said.

“Hi,” Mel said. She felt unaccountably shy, which was ridiculous since they really hadn't done anything but sleep. She tried to toss her bangs out of her eyes, and her neck gave a sharp spasm. “Ow.”

Manny put his hand on the back of his neck and winced. “Ugh, we must have slept in some weird positions. I feel like a broken pretzel.”

Mel smiled. She glanced up to see Marty and Oz staring down at her and Manny. Oz was holding his phone so they could both see it. Judging by the snorting noises they were making, they were trying very hard not to laugh.

“If you are standing there without coffee already brewing, you had better rethink your priorities,” Mel growled.

Marty and Oz exchanged an alarmed look. They began to back away from the booths until they were halfway across the room, at which point they turned around and jogged into the kitchen.

“I didn't think I was that scary,” Mel said.

“I think it's just your bed head,” Manny said. He appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek, and Mel got the feeling it was to keep from laughing.

She picked up a silver napkin holder and glanced at her reflection. She barely managed to stifle her scream. Her blond bangs were doing some sort of vertical lift, making her look like she'd recently done the mambo with two hundred amperes of electricity.

She carefully pulled the Spider-Man blanket over her head, letting just her face peer out from beneath the colorful fleece.

“Much better,” Manny said. “Spider-Man, huh?”

“I found it after you were asleep,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

They were both quiet. The only sound in the bakery was Jack, who was purr-snoring from his spot on the booth back between them.

“I should get him home,” Mel said.

“Yeah, I need to check in with Stan and get into the station,” Manny said.

Still, neither of them moved.

“Thanks for staying last night,” Mel said. “I don't really think I need protection, but it was good of you to be here.”

“Just because you haven't seen the threat doesn't mean it doesn't exist,” Manny said. “Tucci's thugs are not stupid. There is a reason they haven't been convicted for all of the heinous things they've done.”

“Good lawyers?” Mel guessed.

“Partly,” he said. “But mostly, it's because they leave no witnesses behind.”

Manny's dark eyes were as serious as a heart attack, and Mel nodded. She understood. A man didn't get a nickname like “Tommy the Knuckle” because he ate too many pork joints.

The kitchen door swung open and Marty arrived bearing a tray loaded with two steaming mugs of coffee, creamers, and sugar. Mel could have kissed his bald head.

“Here's a little go juice for you,” Marty said as he plopped down the tray.

Mel and Manny began to fix their coffee while Marty stood watching. Mel fumbled when she and Manny reached for the sugar at the same time. It had not escaped her that while she woke up looking like something Jack had coughed up, Manny was disarmingly rumpled. His close-cropped dark hair wasn't even mussed, and he still gave off his usual manly citrus smell. Annoying.

“Well?” Marty asked.

“Well what?” Manny said.

“What happened last night?” Marty asked.

“Nothing!” Mel protested, her face getting hot.

Manny blew on his coffee before taking a sip. He glanced at her over the rim, and she could see his dark eyes were amused.

“I think he means why did he find us down here asleep in the booths,” Manny said.

“Oh,” Mel said. She took a sip of the scalding brew and refused to meet anyone's eyes.

“Yeah, what did you think I meant?” Marty asked. Then he paused. “Oh, well that didn't happen, did it?”

“Whatever happened to minding your own business?” Mel asked.

“Hey, don't bring it up, if you don't want to talk about it,” Marty said.

“Mel wanted to replace what the DeLaura brothers ate yesterday,” Manny said. “We must have zonked out in the middle of the night.”

Mel looked at Manny and noted that he didn't mention Roach's late-night visit, so she assumed it was a need-to-know-only sort of thing.

Marty looked at Manny as if he was disappointed in him.

“You have the woman to yourself for a whole night and the best you can do is fall asleep while she bakes,” he grunted. “No wonder DeLaura has you beat.”

“Marty!” Mel chided him.

“I'm just stating the obvious,” he said.

“How about noticing that we're going to be opening soon and we need to get cleaned up and restocked, and Oz should get cracking on another big batch of cupcakes?” Mel said. She knew she sounded downright ornery, but mortification will do that to a girl.

“I need to jog upstairs and get my overnight bag,” Manny said. “Want me to take Jack up, too?”

Mel scooped up the sleeping feline, who had all the consistency of a sack of pudding, and draped him over her shoulder.

“I'll come with you,” she said. “I need to wash up and feed the boy.”

Manny nodded and folded up his blanket, leaving it in the booth where he'd slept. Mel was still using hers to cover her bed head and refused to give it up. They both refilled their coffee in the kitchen before heading upstairs, and Mel caught Oz giving them a speculative look.

She refused to engage. She noted Tony's camera in the kitchen blinking its red light at them. She wondered what he'd made of their night sacked out in the bakery. She had no doubt he'd burned the cell towers down to call Joe and report in. She felt a twitch of annoyance and suddenly, Angie's well-known temper made perfect sense to her.

Mel loved her brother, Charlie, dearly, but if there had been six more of him hovering around her while they grew up, watching her every move, reporting to their parents, and basically shadowing her very existence, she suspected she'd have developed a wee bit of an anger management issue herself.

She put more sugar in her coffee and led the way to the back door. They took the steps quickly, and Mel wondered if Manny was nervous to have her out in the open. It seemed ridiculous, but she'd spent enough time around Uncle Stan to see how a cop's brain worked, pretty much in a state of constant vigilance.

She closed the door behind them, and Manny crossed over to where he'd left his bag. He unzipped it and fished around until he found his toothbrush.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

“No, not at all,” Mel said as she put Jack down. She waved Manny in the direction of the bathroom. “Have at it.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, she crossed to her wardrobe and popped open the door with the mirror. She threw off her blanket and finger combed her hair, trying to get it to calm down just a little. The static from the blanket was not helping the dire situation.

Giving up, she crossed over to the kitchenette and got her fingers wet by running them under the tap. She shoved them into her hair and tried to pat down the mess. It helped a little.

She was just opening a can of food for Jack when Manny came out of the tiny bathroom. He looked as if he'd stuck his head under the faucet, too, and Mel imagined they were both going to need long, hot showers to restore them to their original selves. Separately, of course.

“Well, I'd better go,” Manny said. “I'm sure Stan will have a lot to share about his meeting with the chief last night.”

“Yeah, tell him I said hey,” Mel said.

“Will do,” Manny said. He hesitated and then said, “About last night.”

Mel looked at him. He wanted to talk about last night? What about last night? Nothing happened. She realized she was sort of disappointed by that observation, and then shook her head. Obviously, sleep deprivation was kicking in, and she was losing it.

She scooped up her coffee mug and took a fortifying sip. Was this where Manny would tell her that he wished it had played out differently? That he would have put a move on her if he could? She would shut him down gently. It would be okay. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, making it hard to focus on his words.