Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries)
Read Pink Velvet Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 9 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Online
Authors: Carol Durand,Summer Prescott
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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
Petite,
golden-haired, Melissa Gladstone pored over accounting statements for her two
businesses, Crème de la Cupcake, in Dellville, Louisiana, and Missy’s Muffins
and More, in her hometown of LaChance, Louisiana, with a broad grin on her
face. Both businesses were booming. She’d closed down the Dellville store
temporarily while her two managers, Ben and Cheryl Radigan were on their honeymoon,
a trip to Belize that Missy had given them as a wedding gift, but since their
return, profits at both shops were trending upward at a rate that astounded
her.
She
had to pause and wonder if her upswing in customers had anything to do with a
personal endorsement that she’d received from the mayor of LaChance, Felton
Chadwick, when she’d agreed to plan his daughter’s wedding. She was a cupcake
artisan, not a wedding planner, but Mayor Chadwick was not one to take no for
an answer, and since Ben and Cheryl’s wedding had been such a tremendous
success, Missy had reluctantly agreed to plan Priscilla Chadwick’s wedding.
She had yet to meet the young socialite, but had seen many raised eyebrows and
looks of pity from folks who had, when they heard that she was going to be
responsible for the wedding.
Missy’s
cell phone buzzed, vibrating across the top of her coffee table, and when she
saw that the caller was Loretta Christianson, an acquaintance from the LaChance
Women’s Auxiliary who called Missy regularly asking her to volunteer either
time or cupcakes to local charity events, she answered the call with a cheery
hello.
“Hi
Missy, Loretta Christianson here! How are you darlin?” the perpetual do-gooder
inquired in her heavy southern drawl.
“I’m
great, Loretta, how are you?” Missy smiled, suspecting that there was a request
lurking on the heels of pleasantries.
“Well,
sugar, if you must know, I’m in a bit of a spot, and I’m really, really hoping
that you can help me out,” she admitted. She may have sounded sweetly helpless,
but Loretta Christianson was a woman who knew how to get things done, and Missy
knew that she was about to be drafted for something.
“Really?
What’s wrong?”
“Are
you familiar with the LaChance High School bake-off, sponsored by the Home Economics
department?”
“Of
course, I entered every year,” Missy chuckled, remembering.
“Of
course you did! You always won too – how could I have forgotten that?” Loretta
exclaimed. “So anyway, Missy, we are in desperate need of an impartial judge
who knows something about baking. Right now we have, Mrs. Dowler, the Home Ec
teacher, and Mr. Sanders, the principal. Is there any possible way that you
could be our third judge? The kids would really appreciate it,” she pleaded.
Missy
answered without hesitation. “Of course, Loretta, I’d be honored to help out.
Just email me the particulars and I’ll make sure to be there.”
“Oh,
thank you so much, darlin! I’m so relieved that someone who actually knows
about baking, and is a little bit famous will be able to help us out,” she
gushed.
Missy
giggled. “Anytime,” she answered, shaking her head a bit at Loretta’s
over-the-top flattery. The ladies hung up and Missy gathered her accounting
statements into a file folder, putting it on the kitchen table so that she
wouldn’t forget to take it back to her office in the LaChance shop in the
morning. She took Toffee, her beloved golden retriever, out one last time
before bed, and headed up the stairs, tired but content.
Missy’s
usual workday routine began after she took Toffee for a nice, long, morning
walk, followed by breakfast, (to make sure that she didn’t eat too much of her
own product at the shop), and a visit first to her LaChance location, followed
by one to the Dellville shop. She made sure that deliveries leaving both stores
were on time, and that there were enough staff members to handle the inevitable
morning rush. The rest of her day was spent creating new varieties for “Cupcake
of the Day,” and collaborating with her friend Echo, who owns the vegan ice
cream shop across the street on combinations to make their locally well-known
cupcake sandwiches.
Missy
was a stickler for routine, and there were few things that could derail hers,
but nasty weather was one of them, and she sighed heavily when she woke up,
looked out the window, and saw a torrential downpour. Most of the time, the
weather in Louisiana was mild and bearable, if sultry and humid, but
occasionally she had to deal with either rain, or a cold snap, which tested her
patience and made her reluctant to go outside. Donning a bright yellow rain
slicker that stuck to her exposed skin because of the humidity, she snapped on
Toffee’s leash and headed for the park. The sweet, obedient animal turned to
look at her with eyes full of such shameless begging, that she grinned at the
pitiful, rain-soaked creature and gave in after only a couple of blocks,
turning for home. The dignified golden was a lady to the core, and didn’t much
care for getting her feet and fur wet outside the civilized confines of the
basement shower.
Once
inside the house, the pampered pet shook herself, thoroughly drenching Missy in
‘doggy droplets’ just as she hung up her rain slicker. Fortunately, the devoted
pet owner hadn’t taken her shower just yet, so she took it in stride, laughing
at the disgruntled expression on her loyal girl’s face. She towel-dried Toffee,
filled her food and water bowls and headed upstairs to get ready for the day.
Her text tone chimed as she was climbing the graceful Victorian staircase, and
she was delighted to see that the message was from Detective Chas Beckett. The
two had been dating for several months now, and Missy had finally gotten more
comfortable with the fact that she had some very strong feelings for the
LaChance detective, but she hadn’t summoned sufficient courage to tell him so
just yet.
“
Lunch?
”
the simple text read. Chas was a man of few words, but when he did speak, his
deep, rich voice was certainly worth listening to.
“
Pick
me up at 12:00?
” Missy replied, not bothering to be coy. Their relationship
had progressed past the ‘playing hard to get’ stage a long time ago, with both
of them taking their time and taking care not to play games or impose unfair
expectations upon the other. They made a great team, a seemingly perfect
couple, and more than one friend had hinted that perhaps they should consider a
more ‘permanent’ arrangement. For now, however, they were content to enjoy each
other’s company and see what developed.
“
You
got it. See you then, Beautiful!
” was his thrilling reply. They may have
been dating for months, but that didn’t diminish the butterflies that tumbled
sweetly in Missy’s midsection every time she saw or thought about the handsome
and dignified detective. From the look that she saw in his eyes when he gazed
at her, he was pretty well smitten too, and the thought warmed her from head to
toe. The only thing that really made her sad in her relationship with the
strong capable man of integrity was that he refused to talk to her about his
family. She didn’t know why, but whenever she brought the subject up, he seemed
to turn to stone, and rapidly changed the subject. As much as she cared about
him, at some point, he was going to have to open up to her about his family.
“
Looking
forward to it!
J
” she replied, meaning every word. In
the meantime, though, she had work to do, so she hurried through the shower and
headed for Missy’s Muffins and More.
Cheryl,
the manager, and Grayson, her pale, dark-haired helper were in the midst of the
morning rush when Missy arrived. The Cupcake of the Day was a new introduction,
and seemed to be selling out fast. Missy had created a delicately-flavored
cupcake using lavender and honey with a thick, creamy vanilla frosting, and
once customers had a taste of the light, moist cakes, they were returning to
buy them by the dozen. She pitched in to help, by restocking the cases, then
left the operation in their capable hands, grabbing boxes for delivery on her
way to the Dellville shop.
The
new Cupcake of the Day was going over equally as well in Dellville, and Missy
couldn’t have been more pleased. Ben, the manager, looking tanned and healthy
after his honeymoon, loved the constant flow of foot traffic, and was helping
his grad school buddy, Chris, move as many cupcakes as possible, with a smile
lighting his face. He had met his wife, Cheryl, when she came to work with
Missy, after he’d been managing the LaChance store for a while, and it was love
at first sight. The couple began dating shortly after they met, and the rest
was history. Missy had planned their wedding, because neither of them had any
family to speak of, and Chas had proudly walked Cheryl down the aisle to meet
her groom. The staff of both shops was like family to Missy, and it had been a
happy day indeed when the manager of Crème de la Cupcake had married his
counterpart at the LaChance shop.
Missy
had just finished boxing up cupcakes for Chris to deliver, when Chas came in
the back door to the commercial kitchen. Sneaking up behind her, he placed a
soft kiss on the back of her neck, startling her and causing the butterflies to
flutter madly.
“Hey
you,” she grinned, turning around, then standing on tiptoe to give him a proper
kiss.
“Hungry?”
he inquired, after her lovely greeting.
“Starving!”
she exclaimed. “Just let me grab my purse. Is it still raining?”
“Cats
and dogs,” the detective quipped. “But don’t worry pretty lady, I’ve got you
covered,” he said, holding up a large black umbrella.
The
gallant detective led Missy to his car, one arm protectively around her,
pulling her close, the other holding the umbrella over them while the rain
pounded down. Missy loved the nearness of him, his scent, the feel of rock-hard
muscles beneath his shirt, the way he made her feel special and protected.
She’d never felt about any man the way that she felt about Chas Beckett, and
had been trying to figure out precisely how to tell him. Still holding the
umbrella above them, he opened Missy’s door for her, and after she was seated,
moved to his side to get in. The rain came down in sheets as they drove to The
PoBoy Palace, a fantastic restaurant that made sandwiches so huge that Missy
could never finish hers.
“What’s
on your agenda for this evening?” Chas asked, taking a huge bite of his
overstuffed muffaletta sandwich.
Missy
chewed a bite of her Hot Pastrami with Stone Ground Mustard treat, and
swallowed before responding. “I’m judging the High School Bake-Off tonight at
7:00. Want to join me?”
“Hmm…let’s
see,” the detective mused. “Lots of people, lots of noise, a hot, stuffy
auditorium that smells of old gym socks…I think I’ll pass,” he smirked.
“Chicken,”
Missy teased. “I figured you’d feel that way, but I had to at least give it a
shot,” she shrugged, smiling.
“I
actually have a case that I’m working on tonight anyway,” he admitted, his tone
growing serious.
“Something
bad?”
“In
the grand scheme of things, no, not too bad, but it’s a strange one
nonetheless. There have been a couple of reports from ladies on the north side
of town that have said they think that there’s a man hanging out around their
homes, watching them when their husbands aren’t home,” the detective explained,
his face grim. “I’m hoping that it was just a meter reader doing his job, or
something equally innocent, but I’ll be contacting neighbors, asking questions,
that sort of thing. It’ll probably take a while.”
“Hmm…that’s
kind of creepy. Living alone can be kind of scary when I hear things like
that,” Missy shivered and took a sip of her iced tea.
“Well,
if you get scared, you know that you and Toffee are always welcome at my
place,” Chas offered, covering her hand with his.
“I
may just take you up on that, Chas Beckett,” she looked up at him coyly through
her lashes.
“I
hope so,” he responded, kissing her hand.