Death of a Cupcake Queen (14 page)

Chapter 25

Hayley pulled into the Shop ‘n Save parking lot, which was packed with cars since it was right in the middle of the late afternoon rush. She didn't want to feed her kids sandwiches for dinner again, so she decided to swing in and pick up some chicken breast and fresh veggies to stir fry homemade fajitas.

She circled around the lot three times searching for a space to open up, but her parking karma was apparently off because five minutes passed and there was still nothing available.

Hayley was about to give up and call the Well Bread sub shop again, which she felt she was single-handedly keeping in business at this point, when out of the corner of her eye she spotted Edie Staples barreling out of the store, pushing a grocery cart filled with plastic bags.

Hayley turned the steering wheel of her Kia and slowly followed behind Edie like a coyote stalking a lost puppy.

Edie pushed her cart next to a squeaky clean white Ford Freestyle that was parked at an angle and taking up two spaces.

Hayley grimaced.

No wonder the lot was so full.

It was because of thoughtless customers like Edie Staples.

The Reverend's wife!

Hayley waited patiently as Edie opened up the back of her SUV and loaded her bags into the car.

She rummaged through one of the bags, taking her sweet time, before finally pulling out a box of Oreo cookies.

She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before tearing into it and popping one into her mouth.

And then another.

And another.

This was a fine time for a cookie binge.

Haley tapped the steering wheel with her left index finger, resisting the urge to lay on her horn in order to give Edie a start and get her moving faster.

Gemma and Dustin would be home soon, their stomachs growling, whining, and complaining about how starving they were.

It was almost a daily ritual.

Hayley scanned the parking lot to check and see if another space had mercifully become free, but so such luck.

Edie licked the chocolate off her fingers and shut the back of her SUV, finally fishing her keys out of the pocket of her navy blue knee length skirt.

She climbed into the front seat, shut the door, and then began checking her makeup in the rear view mirror.

Hayley let out a silent scream.

She couldn't take it anymore.

She pressed the palm of her hand down on the center of her steering wheel.

The horn blared almost as loud as the fire department's noon whistle.

Hayley could see Edie jump in surprise before craning her neck around to investigate who was honking at her.

Hayley instantly plastered an insincere smile on her face and offered Edie a friendly wave while making sure her turn signal was blinking so Edie would put the pieces together that Hayley was patiently waiting for her parking spot.

Hayley sighed with relief as Edie put the SUV in reverse and slowly backed out of the two spaces she had been hogging.

Edie clearly wanted to exit the lot past Hayley's Kia so Hayley politely backed up to give her plenty of room to maneuver.

It still took three times for Edie, who was blind as a bat and had no business possessing a driver's license, to clear the spaces without bumping into the cars on either side of her.

Edie waved back at Hayley as she drove off, but Hayley wasn't entirely certain the Reverend's wife had any clue who she was waving at.

Hayley pushed her gear shift into drive to pull into one of the empty spaces when suddenly without warning, a beat up maroon Buick LaCrosse sped up from the opposite direction and squealed into Hayley's space, stopping directly in the middle and taking up two spaces just like Edie Staples.

Hayley gasped.

The driver must have seen her turn signal and just chose to ignore it.

What kind of rude person does that?

She didn't have to wait for long to get her answer.

The driver's side door of the Buick flew open and Vanda Spears hopped out, a proud, excited look on her face.

Hayley couldn't believe it.

Since when did Vanda Spears own a car?

Even a dented, scraped-up used one.

She rolled down her window and called out to Vanda, who was passing by on her way into the store. “Excuse me, Vanda, I was waiting for that space,” Hayley said, keeping her cool.

“Snooze you lose. Just chalk it up to us being even after you nearly killed me the other day.”

What part of saving her life did Vanda not get?

Hayley bit her tongue.

“Like my fancy new wheels?” Vanda boasted.

Fancy was perhaps a bit of an overstatement.

“Paid cash for it. Almost eight grand. They let me drive it right off the lot.”

By the looks of it, the car was worth no more than three grand.

But again, Hayley bit her tongue.

“Nobody's going to be calling me a deadbeat no more. I have my very own car!”

Hayley was dying to ask the obvious question.

Who gave her eight thousand dollars?

Did she have a relative who died suddenly and left her some cash in the will?

But Vanda didn't stick around long enough to answer any of Hayley's questions.

She waddled into the Shop ‘n Save, her head held high, brandishing a whole new lease on life.

And probably driving without insurance.

So if nobody died and Vanda did not win the Maine Lotto, then someone gave her cash to buy her wreck.

And Hayley had a very strong suspicion who that person might be.

Chapter 26

“I just want to take this opportunity to apologize for my boorish behavior,” Mason said, scratching his flat bare belly while hiking up his cargo shorts with his free hand.

Boorish?

He knows the word boorish?

How unexpected.

Hayley stood in the doorway of the summer rental house, gripping the strap of her navy blue tote bag that hung over her shoulder, ready to swing it at his head at any moment if he tried to grope her again.

“That's all right, Mason. I'm here to see Sabrina. Can you go get her for me, please?”

“She's not here. She went to pick up some supplies at the store in town. She should be back any minute. Why don't you come in and wait for her?”

Mason stepped aside and waved his arm to usher her inside.

Hayley hesitated.

She didn't like the idea of being alone in the house with him.

The less time spent with him the better.

But she was determined to speak with Sabrina.

“Please. I promise to be a gentleman,” Mason said with a sheepish grin.

Hayley sized him up.

He was lean and muscled, an agile acrobat, but she had long nails that could scratch his eyes out if it came to that so she decided to take a chance.

She walked past him into the house.

He closed the door behind her.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“I'm fine. Thank you.”

There was an awkward moment as they stood facing each other.

“Sometimes after a few cocktails, I can get a little out of control, and start acting out and being ridiculous, and that's what happened at the reunion and I feel really bad about it. I also had a few before Ivy's funeral,” Mason said, eyes downcast, taking a real stab at sincerity.

Hayley nodded. “I understand.”

“People say I take after my father, who was somewhat of a player from what I hear, but he died when I was a baby so I don't really know.”

“Well, let's just forget it ever happened.”

“I appreciate that. I really do care for Sabrina. I've never met a woman quite like her, and I would hate for my actions when I was a drunken mess to jeopardize that . . .”

“I won't say anything,” Hayley promised.

“Thank you,” Mason said, sighing with relief.

“I know we just met, but I'm already thinking of getting a tattoo of her name.”

Hayley perused his heavily inked body. “You sure you have room?”

“Back left thigh,” Mason said, turning around and raising his shorts to reveal a small patch of skin still untouched by art work.

“Well, that's very sweet,” Hayley said, hoping this young kid just wasn't a rebound for Sabrina after her two failed marriages.

“Hayley, what are you doing here?”

Hayley spun around to see Sabrina standing just inside the door holding a recyclable bag full of groceries.

“Oh, good. You're home. I was hoping we could talk,” Hayley said.

Sabrina glanced at Mason and then back at Hayley, not entirely comfortable with the two of them mingling at the house without her present.

Perhaps Sabrina knew more than she let on when it came to Mason's curious hands after downing a couple of cocktails.

Sabrina instinctively knew what Hayley was there to discuss.

She marched forward, blowing past her, and handed the bag of groceries to Mason, who grabbed the handle before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Mason, could you give Hayley and me some privacy, please?”

“Sure, no problem. I'll put these away and go for a swim.”

Mason eyeballed Hayley, not confident she was telling him the truth when she promised his unwanted advances would be kept between the two of them. He then quietly retreated to the kitchen.

“What is it you want to talk about, Hayley? I'm not in the mood for socializing. We just got through Ivy's funeral and now we have to plan Nykki's. I feel like I'm living some kind of nightmare that I can't wake up from.”

“I'm here about Vanda Spears.”

“Come on, Hayley. Enough about her. Why do you insist on taking her seriously? She's a crazy homeless woman who spouts rubbish.”

“She's a crazy homeless woman who just bought a new car.”

“So what?”

“Where did she get the money?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“I think you gave it to her.”

“What?”

“You're paying her off to keep quiet.”

“Now
you're
spouting rubbish.”

“What does she know about you, Sabrina? Why has she been blackmailing you?”

“Hayley, I know I wasn't exactly a good friend to you in high school. Sometimes when I think back, I'm downright embarrassed about how I acted toward you. But I've tried to make it up to you. I've tried to be considerate and supportive and even help you out when you insist on sticking your nose into murder cases that should be handled by the police, but my good will only goes so far and I resent you trying to create some sort of scandal by linking me somehow to the horrible deaths of my two best friends.”

“I never said you were in any way connected to what happened to Ivy and Nykki. The police are focused on Nigel, not you. But there is a missing piece here and I am betting it has something to do with Vanda Spears. You can tell me, Sabrina. What is it? What's the big secret?”

For a moment, Hayley thought she was finally getting through to Sabrina.

Her hands were shaking slightly.

Her lips quivered.

She opened her mouth to speak as if a confession was imminent.

But then the light in her eyes dimmed.

It was as if she was snapping into survival mode.

Choosing to go all in on the cover up.

Whatever that might be.

“I have nothing further to say to you,” Sabrina said. “I'd like you to leave now.”

Hayley debated holding her ground, refusing to leave until Sabrina talked.

But that would only aggravate the already tense situation.

Hayley turned around and walked out the door to her car.

She was going to have to find out what secret Sabrina was hiding some other way.

Chapter 27

When Hayley walked into the office of the
Island Times
after driving back to town from Seal Harbor, Bruce was there waiting for her, an excited look on his face.

“Chief Alvares just arrested the husband for Ivy Foster's murder,” he said giddily.

“Nigel?”

“Yes. He found a golf club in his bag with specks of blood and it also had Nigel's fingerprints all over it.”

Hayley stood there, shocked.

She knew Nigel was a suspect, but deep down she never really believed he had it in him to brutally murder his wife.

Bruce stared at her, a smug look on his face, overjoyed that for once he was able to show up Hayley with information on an investigation.

Especially given the fact he was the one at the paper officially being paid to write about crimes.

Hayley spun around and dashed out the door.

“Where are you going? We're out of coffee!” Bruce yelled.

Hayley didn't bother responding.

Why encourage the chauvinist pig?

Okay, it was her responsibility as office manager to keep the coffee pot brewing throughout the day for the reporters and photographers and especially her bear of a boss Sal, but it just rankled her that Bruce kept insisting on reminding her of it.

Hayley jumped in her car and drove straight over to the police station.

Sergio was out when she arrived at the reception desk that Officer Donnie, the tall, lanky perpetually in training young cop, was manning.

She asked to see Nigel in his jail cell.

“Sorry, Hayley, the Brit gets no visitors and that's final,” Donnie said with a self-satisfied smile, already drunk with power after being left in charge for twenty minutes while Sergio went to get his hair cut.

Hayley anticipated this on the drive over and casually handed Donnie her phone.

He squinted as he read the text message on the screen.

It was from Sergio.

Donnie cleared his throat and handed the phone back to Hayley. “Okay, fine, go on back.”

Hayley brushed past Donnie, who stood up from the desk to open the door that led to the row of cells in the back of the station. “Thank you, Donnie.”

She neglected to mention that she had Dustin text her that message and just changed the contact information so the number was identified as Sergio's.

She knew Sergio had a running appointment at the barbershop during the lunch hour the second Tuesday of every month to get his locks trimmed.

Hayley found Nigel sitting on a bench in the first cell.

He was crouched over, his head buried in his hands, and he was still wearing his golf attire, a bright green Polo shirt with tan pants and white golf shoes.

All that was missing was the matching Bucket Hat.

“Nigel?”

He looked up, his eyes red from crying.

He leapt to his feet and ran to her, gripping the gray bars of the cell. “Hayley, please, you have to do something to get me out of here! The chief is married to your brother, right? Can't you talk to him? I didn't do this! I didn't kill Ivy . . . or Nykki!”

“I believe you, Nigel, at least I think I do, but the golf club . . .”

“I know it looks bad . . .”

“The club was in your golf bag. There were specks of blood on it.”

“I know! Someone must have stolen the club, killed Ivy with it and then planted it back in my bag! Please! You have to believe me!”

“It's a little far-fetched. If someone was trying to frame you, how would they even know what your golf clubs looked like?”

“I've only played once since I arrived in Bar Harbor. I did nine holes with a nice gentleman I met at the club. I was there drinking to forget Ivy's constant nagging. I mean, scratch that. I don't want to incriminate myself any more than I already have!”

“I saw firsthand Ivy's treatment of you, Nigel. It's okay. That's not evidence you killed her.”

“But it's a motive and I'm afraid that might be enough to convict me!”

“Okay, so this man you met at the club, what was his name?”

“Nice chap. McNally, I think. Yes, Charles McNally!”

Hayley gasped, floored.

Charles McNally.

The classmate who was still harboring a giant crush on Ivy at the reunion.

Still lovestruck after twenty years.

What if he approached Ivy before the reunion and confided that his feelings were unabated after all this time and she rebuffed him?

What if her rejection just caused him to snap?

Perhaps in his mind he thought if he couldn't have her, then no one would.

He must have found out Nigel was a golfer and just happened to run into him at the bar where the two became chums.

Once Charles made it clear he was an avid golfer, it would be natural for Nigel to suggest they play a round.

He saw Nigel's clubs, maybe pilfered one while Nigel wasn't looking once they were heading back to the club for a drink.

Then, at the reunion, after making a big show in front of Hayley about how he was still in love with Ivy and hadn't seen her yet, he snuck into the kitchen and bludgeoned her to death before slipping out, hiding the murder weapon, and then making sure everyone saw him go back into the kitchen to discover the body.

Later, he could have put the golf club back into Nigel's bag at the summer rental.

Yes.

This made complete sense.

And what if Nykki saw him leaving the summer rental after putting back the golf club?

That would leave a witness.

Maybe he had to take her out too.