Blueberry Cream Cupcake & Murder (A Dana Sweet Cozy Mystery Book 2) (6 page)

“How is your dear uncle?” Gerdie-Sue, the well-known town gossip and a regular customer of the café asked Dana later that morning.

Dana’s mind was in a tailspin of confusion right now. She didn’t even know if she was coming or going, especially after her meeting with her uncle.

“I heard he just got out on bail, child,” Gerdie-Sue continued, despite Dana’s dazed expression. “Poor thing. Being cooped up in a small cell like that.” She tsked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Gerdie-Sue. My mind’s somewhere else right now. What were you saying?” Dana packed a box of delicious blueberry cupcakes and fresh pastries for Gerdie-Sue’s order. She couldn’t help but notice the woman’s long manicured nails that matched her bright red outfit.

“You’re uncle’s out on bail, right?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, he’s out on bail, Gerdie-Sue. It’s in the hands of the justice system now. But I know he’s innocent.” She swallowed a hard lump at those words. Did she really know if he was innocent?

Of course, he is. You know that deep down, Dana. Just because things look suspicious, doesn’t mean that’s all to the story. You were a mistaken suspect, too, remember?
A little voice echoed in her mind. Was it the voice of reason and wisdom or something else?

Gerdie-Sue took the white box of pastries with a blue ribbon on it and handed Dana her credit card.

“Well, of course he is.  Why would he do a thing like that to his poor wife?” Gerdie-Sue’s tone sounded a bit patronizing for Dana’s liking but she just shrugged it off.

Dana swiped the card through the machine for Gerdie-Sue before handing the card back to her. “You’re looking very bright today.”

“Oh, thank you. I just got back from Bea’s Salon, you know. She’s running a special today. You know, for her anniversary? It was packed, girl. Had to wait an hour for my pedi. Everybody goes to Bea’s salon.”

“Bea’s Salon!” Dana smacked her forehead. “Oh, right. Bea had asked if we could do a special delivery for her today. I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem, child. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your mind with all this upset and all. How is dear Mary taking all of this? It’s gonna send her right to the grave it is.”

“Hopefully not anytime soon. She’s handling it all as best as can be.”

“Well, I’ll be off now.” Gerdie-Sue left with her baked goods. Her strong floral perfume scent lingered at the counter after she walked away. That’s Gerdie-Sue for you.

Dana immediately rushed to the back of the kitchen.

“Whoa! What is it, cuz?” Katie said, gathering a tray of cupcakes to refill the front.

“Oh, nothing. I almost forgot, Bea called me up the other day and asked if I could bring a dozen cupcakes to the salon for her anniversary special today. I’d forgotten about it when I heard about Uncle Max. I normally mark these on my calendar.”

“Oh, no. What time does she need the cupcakes? Is it this week’s special. The Blueberry Cream?”

“Yes, it is.”

“We’re out of fresh ones. I’ll need to bake some more.” Inga’s voice was curt.

“Fine, thank you, Inga. I’ll go and call Bea now to let her know I’ll be a little late.”

Dana went to the back of the office and slumped down in the chair trying to catch her breath and get her bearings together. Why was something nudging at her? Something just didn’t make sense. She immediately got on the phone and dialed Bea’s salon.

Just then, a though struck Dana and almost knocked her over.

It was something Gerdie-Sue said. “Everybody goes to Bea’s salon.”

Did that mean…? Could it mean…? That’s it. She couldn’t wait for the cupcakes to be done.

“Everybody goes to Bea’s salon. That must mean that Uncle Max’s late wife must have been a frequent customer, right? Nobody does nails like Bea and from what she heard about Karla, she always looked good from top to bottom and everything else in between.

Let’s hope I’m not wrong about this.

Dana pulled up at Bea’s Salon on Rose Valley Boulevard feeling slightly hopeful. Her heart sped up in her chest. Luckily, Bea’s was just ten minutes from the Town Square. The salon was housed within a row of brick Victorian town houses and had a distinctive red brick exterior. A few small pots of flowers adorned the entry walkway.

Dana shut off the engine and took her keys out of the ignition. She then got out of her car and opened the back door to take out the large box of Blueberry Cream Cupcakes. The scent of vanilla and blueberry whipped cream wafted to her nostrils.

The sign was in neon parlor lights and read “Welcome to Bea’s Salon: Look great. Feel great!”

Warmth tingled inside her. She sure wished she could just sit down and have a nice massage right now and her nails and feet done.

When was the last time she’d pampered herself?

Too long, she thought. Way too long.

She’d been too busy working hard around the clock, penciling time in for chores, errands, bookkeeping for the café, helping out at the café, fixing stuff around the aging Victorian house, paying bills, dealing with bill collectors and grandma’s old uninsured debts and tons of other stuff. Everything, except herself. Well, she was going to make a point of putting in some self-care time. Once all this was done with, of course. She still had to get down to the bottom of this itching problem?

Who really killed Karla Sweet?

“Aww, well aren’t these cute and lovely,” Bea said when Dana presented the goods to her at the door. “They look too good to eat, child.”

Bea took the box with the cupcakes piled high with whipped cream frosting and a cute message on each of them with a bow tie and a design of an edible nail polish and nail file.

“My, my, my. This is so creative, child. I love it,” Bea continued.

“I’m glad you love them, Bea. Sorry, I’m a bit late with the delivery.”

“Oh, no worries, child,” Bea said. “Heather! Come here and take these over to the table there.” Bea called out to her assistant.

It was the Salon’s tenth anniversary and they were giving out free tea and cupcakes to their loyal customers.

“I know you must have had a lot on your head, child. Come over here into my office. I’ve got a few things to do.” Bea snapped her gum in her mouth.

The sound of music played over the system and the TV was set on the HGTV as the patrons got their nails and toes done while either reading on their phones or looking at the screen. Few were speaking to each other but the place was packed.

“Thanks, Bea.”

“Hey,” Bea said, looking suspiciously at Dana’s nails. She reached out to grab Dana’s two hands and glanced at them with a shame-on-you expression on her face. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Child, you know you shouldn’t be walking around with dem nails like that, right?”

“Oh, Bea.  I know, I know. I need to make an appointment.”

“You sure do, child. I’m sorry about your fiancé there. But if you ever want a chance at another fella, you’ve got to take care of dem nails of yours.”

Dana playfully rolled her eyes. “I think there’s more to mating than one’s nail status, Bea.”

Beatrice. Beatrice. Beatrice. As was her full name. Bea was ever the nail-obsessed beautician. She once trained as a nurse in her earlier life but never finished nursing school, according to what Nans once told her. Bea once said, she could tell a lot about a person through their nails and their skin. Like stuff about the customer’s blood circulation, their diet, whether they got enough protein or calcium or had nerves problems.

“Are you kidding me, child. I once told a customer to go see a doctor when she came in here with her pail nails and low energy. Turned out she was anemic and didn’t know it at first.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really, child. And never mind that,” Bea said, looking at Dana’s nails and examining them carefully. “You know I can tell a lot about a person’s character by the shape of their nails.”

Dana rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really, child. You act like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t,’ she teased.

“Well, you have vertically long nails.”

“I thought most people do.”

“Oh, no, child. Some are squared, or broad, or round, or egg-shaped, or almond, or triangle shaped and so on. But yours is nice and vertical and long on the fingertips.”

“Which means?”
Oh, boy.
Was Dana about to receive nail reading from the town’s most popular beautician. This was so not like New York. Only in a small town like Berry Cove.

“Which means that
you are what’s called a mild-tempered romanticist.”

“A mild tempered romanticist?” Dana sounded dubious.

“Yes, that’s right. And it means that you’re probably more
right brain oriented, and you’re a highly imaginative type.”

“Well, okay, that is true. A coincidence of course.”

“Oh, I’m not finished yet. It also means that you’re meticulous and creative, but you can get a little overwhelmed by the surrounding atmosphere and you might easily be deceived, so you might want add a little extra caution to your diet.”

“Oh.” Well, Bea did seem to read her quite accurately like a book. She couldn’t argue with that.

“See, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I guess you are, Bea. Good. You really study your craft well. And here I only thought you were more concerned with the outer appearance of your customers.” Dana grinned.

Bea smiled. “I can tell you have a lot on your mind.”

“I do, Bea. In fact, I just spoke to Uncle Max and Aunt Mary this morning.”

Bea leaned closer. “How is that poor Max doing and his mama?”

Dana sighed. “As best as can be. I have a feeling that he’s innocent and somebody else it to blame. I mean, no one’s really saying anything much but…I feel as if it could have something to do with people that knew his late wife, Karla.”

Bea leaned back in the beauty chair by her desk and brushed imaginary lint off her shoulder. “Well, you know, word has it that Ms Karla got around.”

“She did, didn’t she?”

“Well, she had to look her best. Always pristine, she was. But then again a woman had to look like gold if she was going to be digging for it. We did the works for her every other week. Different stuff each week, of course. She had a
Brazilian
wax, a
French
manicure, and a
Japanese
facial. The list goes on. Girl, she was a worldly woman in all sense of the word.”

“Wow! I see. She took a lot of pride in her appearance, too.”

“That girl of his was a real get-around-type of girl, you know.”

“She was?”

“Yes, child. She was dating a lot of guys behind your poor uncle’s back. She was even dating Echo, the electrician.”

“Echo?” Dana was dubious. “Really?” Dana just couldn’t see a Vegas show girl settling down with a down-to-earth electrician.

“He was her true love but he didn’t have any money, honey. You know what I’m saying?”

“I think I do.”

“Well, anyway, he wasn’t too pleased about her brushing him off to the side like he was a nobody and that guy is sweet and all but he does have a temper like a volcano. Erupts when you least expect it. I remember when he came in here to fix the panel and something blew and I cursed him out for it. You would have thought he would have been professional and tried to fix it. Guy just blew up like a fuse in my face. I had to get Dion from the barber to get him out of here. Of course, he apologized later and came back all sweet and everything and said he was really sorry but had a lot of problems on his head, yada yada.” Bea continued talking and got up to unpack a box of nail polish to put up on the display at the front.

“Wow, that’s awful. I never knew Echo had a temper like that.”

“Oh, don’t we all at one point and time.”

“But do you think he could have…you know, killed Karla.”

“I can’t tell you that, Dana. But I will say this. One of my newer girls did Karla’s nails once. It was a quiet day at the salon. Karla and Feffy were here alone. Now Feffy’s English isn’t all that great. I guess, Karla thought speaking on the phone while her feet was in the solution, Feffy wouldn’t understand what she was saying. Well, anyway, Karla apparently said that the only way a girl can get rich is to marry a nice rich guy without a prenup then divorce the bastard.”

“What? She said that?” Dana couldn’t believe her ears. But then if Uncle Max knew that and knew she was cheating and didn’t have a prenup signed, he couldn’t divorce her, could he?  That would break his bank account. Completely wipe him out. That would give him a
motive
, wouldn’t it? A damn good motive.

Oy, yoy, yoy!

“I have a customer here who works as a care worker,” Bea continued. “What do you call those people, personal support workers?”

“Yes, and?” Dana probed for more information.

“Well,” Bea said, quietly, “she told me that she went to work for your auntie and there was some huge argument. A fight between Max and his wife.”

“There was? Could you tell me what that was about?”

“Sure, honey. I’m not one to gossip, so you didn’t hear it from me, okay?” She arched a brow. “Anyhow, Max told her that he knew about her affairs.”

“He did?” Dana’s eyes widened. Her heart beat harder, her breath felt constricted. Her world was being turned upside down. She didn’t like what she was hearing at all.

Well, that didn’t look good for her Uncle Max. If the police knew about this, they would say he had a very strong motive for murder.

Dana felt her stomach twist into knots. Could Uncle Max have been guilty after all?

“And then he told her something like she had to stop seeing Chester.”

“Stop, seeing Chester? Who’s Chester? What else did he say, Bea?” Dana swallowed a hard lump in her throat, feeling as if her day was getting worse by the minute with each word that came out of Bea’s lips.

Mon, Dieu!

This isn’t looking good. This isn’t looking good at all.

“Well, his wife there said that she knew about the secret and she would let it all out.”

“Secret? Let it all out? What secret?”

“Oh, yes, honey child. Something big went down there. Next thing you know, she was found dead. Poisoned.”

Secret? What secret could Uncle Max have been hiding from her?

Dana felt her head spin out of control.

“Well, you know, I had to tell the cops.”

“I understand. Good thing you did. That was the right thing to do.”

Great. Now her uncle was looking even more guilty. Dana was going to have to have yet another chat with dear old Uncle Max—not to mention Echo. But if there was some dark family secret to be discovered, Dana needed to know now sooner than later.