Creamsicle Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 11 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) (6 page)

Chas’s
hospital stay was extended for another week, and Paul Buckman was placed behind
bars where he sang like a canary in hopes of getting leniency from the courts.
The director had timed a visit to the detective to coincide with the lunch
break of the officers on watch. He slipped into Chas’s room while he slept and
tried to smother the detective with a pillow. Chas was too weak from his injury
to fight back, but he pushed the call button for the nurse on the controller
that rested in his hand under the sheet. The nurse burst in upon Buckman,
witnessed an attempted murder, and screamed for security, who, fortunately had
come up to check on the detective and were just outside in the hallway.

With
the killer behind bars, both Missy and Chas were now safe enough to be in their
homes without worry, and life could return to some semblance of normalcy. Missy
had a dinner party with Chas, Echo and Joe, to thank the reporter for his help
in exonerating Missy and finding out the identity of the real killer.

Another
director had been hired to pick up where Buckman had left off, and in an act of
pure Karma, he’d fired Ivana Cherie almost instantly, and re-hired the security
guard and props assistant whom Buckman had fired before disappearing. Missy
still supplied the cast and crew with cupcakes and had even wangled a chance
for Cheryl and Ben to be extras in one of the scenes of the movie.

**

Missy
was relieved to once again be immersed in the familiar world of cupcakes and
customers, and was glad when
Whispers of Blood
was finally done filming,
the actors and techs heading back to sunny California. She had just finished
polishing the glass cases of Crème de la Cupcake to a sparkle, when the bell
over the door jangled, and her favorite group of ladies came in laughing and
chattering as usual.

Sally
Higgins, the ringleader of the “Burgundies and Books” book club, came up to the
counter to place the group’s order, while the other ladies waved hello and made
themselves comfortable after pushing together two tables in the corner, the way
that they did every Tuesday.

“Morning,
Missy! Life returning to normal yet?” the elegant housewife asked with a grin.

“Finally,”
Missy breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s so good to be back here providing coffee
and cupcakes to the ladies,” she smiled. “What’s your pleasure today?”

“Tell
me about your Cupcake of the Day,” Sally said, rubbing her hands together in
anticipation.

“You’ll
laugh,” Missy giggled.

“Great
– lay it on me, I could use a good chuckle.”

“Okay,
it’s called “Cereal Killer,” and it’s a vanilla cupcake with strawberry
preserve filling, topped with buttercream frosting and corn flake sprinkles
drizzled with blood-red strawberry syrup,” she announced proudly, having come
up with  the idea specifically for the book club ladies. She knew that they
preferred to read mysteries, and wanted to come up with themed cupcakes for
them every Tuesday.

Sally
burst out laughing. “I absolutely love it, Missy, you are such a dear! We’ll
take five, along with five coffees, as usual, please. Feel free to join us if
you’d like, we’d love to have you.”

“I
wish I could,” Missy shook her head ruefully. “But I have several deliveries
this afternoon, so I’ll be taking off in a bit. Thanks for sending me the book
list though, I’ve been enjoying reading through them.”

“My
pleasure! I’m hoping you’ll be able to join us for some of the book club
meetings at some point.”

“Me
too, now that life has slowed down a bit,” Missy nodded. Sally went back to the
table, and Missy had Ben serve the ladies their coffee and cupcakes while she
packed up the delivery orders.

Missy
yawned and stretched, waking up to another toasty Louisiana early Fall day.
Hearing her movements, Toffee and Bitsy came trotting over, tails wagging,
ready for their morning walk. Trotting down her front porch steps, leashes in
hand, happy dogs eager to head for the park, she paused for a moment to enjoy
the sunshine streaming through the remaining leaves in brilliant shades of
crimson, tangerine and saffron. The breeze was cool, and Missy was glad that
she had selected a long-sleeved knit top this morning.

The
park was deserted, a strange thing on a beautiful Fall morning, so Missy was
able to let the dogs run off leash for a while, chasing each other round and
round, before collapsing in a happy heap at her feet. She gave them a drink of
water, snapped their leashes on, and took the panting pups home, glad that her
life had resumed its normal course of canines, cupcakes, and crushing on the
handsome Detective Chas Beckett. The couple was going out to dinner this
evening to celebrate Chas’s recovery, and he hadn’t told her where they were
going, but had indicated that it was somewhere special, so she had bought a new
dress for the occasion.

As
much as Missy was looking forward to dinner with Chas, she had a mountain of
work to do before she snuck out early to get ready for the occasion. There were
deliveries that needed to be made, new cupcake flavors to invent for the next
week’s cupcakes of the day, and two shops to run, so when she came home with her
furry friends, she made sure they had plenty of food, water and toys and headed
for the shower.

**

Grayson,
the pale, dark-haired youth who had worked at the LaChance shop for more than a
year, and who was warmly embraced by both Missy’s staff, and their considerable
customer list, approached his boss nervously when she came in the back door.

“Hey,
Ms. G.,” he began nervously, glancing up at Missy and down at the floor again.

“Good
morning, Grayson, how are you today?” she replied cheerfully, grabbing an apron
from the hook by the kitchen door.

“Um,
I’m okay. Could I…do you have time to talk for a minute?” he asked, running a
hand over his smooth, shiny, ponytail.

“You
betcha,” Missy smiled, reassuringly, wondering what was wrong. “Let’s go sit in
the break room,” she said, leading him down the hall.

“What’s
bothering you, Grayson?” she asked gently once they were seated in the
sunshine-yellow break room.

“Well,
it’s just, I, uh…” he stammered, then took a breath and plunged in. “I got
accepted to art school in New Orleans,” he said in a rush.

“Oh
Grayson, that’s wonderful!” Missy exclaimed, truly happy that someone had
finally realized the extent of the talented young man’s artistic abilities.

He
nodded and finally cracked a nervous smile. “Yeah, I’m excited, but…” he
trailed off.

“But
what?” Missy prompted, puzzled.

“But,
I’ll have to be in the city three days a week, which means I’ll only be able to
work here on the other days,” his huge brown eyes were troubled. “But, I have a
friend, Cassandra, who is really responsible and hard-working, who could work
on the days that I’m gone, if that’s okay…?” he proposed, ducking his head,
hoping he wasn’t about to be fired.

“Well,
look at you, young man,” Missy smiled maternally. “Not only did you get into
art school, but you’ve already found a solution for the work days that you’re
giving up. You’re something special, you know that?” she said.

Grayson
blushed to the roots of his hair. “Thanks for understanding, Ms. G., I was
afraid that I might get fired,” he admitted, relieved.

“Fired?
Are you kidding? I can’t afford to lose your creativity,” she said. “Besides,
your regulars would throw a fit if they couldn’t see your smiling face at least
a couple of times a week,” she teased, making his blush deepen even further.

“Cool,”
the youth bobbed his head with an embarrassed grin, standing and giving the
best boss in the world a brief hug. “Well, I’d better get up front, or Cheryl’s
gonna come looking for me,” he said, heading for the door.

“Go
get ‘em tiger,” Missy chuckled, watching him go.

She
had just arranged a notecard, pen, and possible ingredients for formulating new
recipes on the long stainless steel counter in the kitchen, and was sitting on
a tall stool, brainstorming, when Chas came in the back door, looking as though
he’d seen a ghost.

“Chas,
honey, what’s wrong?” Missy jumped up and went to him, concerned that his
injury might not have healed.

The
handsome detective took a deep breath, muscles in his jaw flexing. “It’s my
father.”

Missy
immediately went to Chas and wrapped him in her embrace, and he let himself be
held, struggling to maintain his composure. She stroked his hair, his face, his
neck, as he bent to bury his face in her shoulder, breathing deeply.

“What’s
going on, sweetheart?” she asked, hurting for him. “What’s going on with your
daddy?”

Chas
stood, trying to gather himself, and closed his eyes briefly before speaking.
“He had a massive heart attack about an hour ago. I’m on my way to the airport,
and I hope I can get there in time. It doesn’t look good, Missy,” he let out a
shuddering sigh.

“Oh
Chas, I’m so sorry,” Missy touched his cheek. “Is there anything I can do? Do
you want me to go with you?”

“Not
right now,” he said quietly. “I’m literally heading to the airport now, but
later, if…something happens…I’ll need you with me then,” he said, closing his
eyes again.

“Oh,
love, I’m so sorry,” Missy said, tears welling in her eyes. She kissed him
softly, and he seemed to draw comfort from the simple pleasure of her lips on
his. Drawing back after giving him another hard hug, she said, “Go. Be with
your daddy. Love him with whatever time he has left, and let me know how you’re
doing, okay?” She kissed him again, and stroked his cheek. “I love you, Chas
Beckett, and I’m here whenever you need me,” she promised.

Chas
gazed into her eyes, his pain evident. “I love you too, Missy. More than you
know,” he said quietly, kissing the top of her head and turning to go.

**

Missy
stood in the guest room of the Beckett mansion again, checking her waterproof
mascara, as Maggie, the stout Irish maid looked on approvingly.

“Such
a sad occasion, lass, but my oh my, yer lookin’ lovely in black,” the faithful
servant nodded. “Mr. Charles is gonna need ya today,” she said, shaking her
head sadly. “He’s a strong man, and everythin’ seems to fall to him to take
care of, but mark my words, he’ll be lookin’ to you fer his strength today.”

“My
heart hurts for him, Maggie,” Missy admitted, trying not to cry, again. Chas
had remained strong throughout the ordeal of getting his father’s affairs in
order, making funeral arrangements, and notifying friends and family, and Missy
had cried enough tears for both of them. The detective had kept her by his side
as much as possible, since the day his father had passed.

“I
know, lass. I’m just glad that Mr. Charles has ya to lean on.”

**

Missy
had thought that she and Chas would be returning from New York as soon as the
funeral was over, but such was not the case. His father’s estate was extensive,
and Chas, as executor of his will, had a whole host of responsibilities that
had to be attended to before he returned to Louisiana.

At a
loss as to what to do with herself while Chas met with his brother Reggie, and
his sister, Olivia, regarding the disposition of the estate, Missy wandered the
halls of the huge mansion, hoping that she didn’t get lost. She would never
have guessed when she met Chas Beckett, that he had come from such grand
wealth, despite his impeccable grooming and manners. He’d always been so humble
and down-to-earth, which is probably why he had refused his father’s invitation
to run the empire, and had removed himself from his family’s trappings at his
earliest opportunity.

She
paused outside the closed doors to the library, startled by the sound of
Reginald shouting, Livvy crying, and Chas calmly acting as the voice of reason.
She couldn’t hear what was being said, but it was evident that there was an
impassioned discussion going on. Feeling as though she was eavesdropping on
something that was absolutely none of her business, she hurried past on tiptoe,
not wanting the family to know that she was even nearby, and headed for the
cool oblivion of the in-home movie theatre.

After
a couple of weeks spent in the company of a steady flow of friends, business
acquaintances, family members and attorneys who came to either pay their
respects or take meetings regarding the elder Beckett’s massive fortune, Missy
was glad to have Chas alone for dinner. They’d had the kitchen staff prepare
and serve a simple meal in the privacy of one of the sitting rooms so that they
could simply enjoy each other’s company in peace and quiet.

Missy
sipped her wine, gazing at Chas thoughtfully. “Are you okay, love?” she asked,
her grey eyes warm with concern.

The
handsome detective smiled, his dimples causing Missy’s heart to skip a beat.
“Sweetie, I am more okay right now, in this moment, than I have been in the
last couple of weeks. I’m so glad you’re here,” he leaned across the table to
kiss her.

“Me
too,” she replied dreamily. “Although, I have to admit, I feel a bit like I’ve
entered some sort of surreal Wonderland every time I come here,” she giggled.
“This is definitely not how I grew up,” she looked around at their opulent
surroundings.

“Well,
I did,” he sighed melodramatically. “And somehow I ended up semi-normal,” he
grinned mischievously.

“Says
who?” Missy teased, tilting her face up for another kiss.

Chas
kissed her soundly, with the kind of kiss that made the temperature of the room
rise considerably, only to be interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Missy
blushed and hid her face as servants entered to refill wine glasses, take away
empty plates and announce the impending arrival of dessert and coffee. Once the
staff had quickly cleared the table, leaving discreetly, with no impression
that they’d noticed what had been going on prior to their arrival, Missy burst
into giggles. Chas smiled at her fondly, then took her hand, his expression
turning serious.

“Sweetie,
there’s something that I wanted to talk with you about,” he said, in a manner
that made Missy nervous as well as curious.

“Okay,
I’m listening,” she said, her eyes locked on his.

Chas
sighed, and her heart dropped, wondering what was distressing him.

“As
you know, I’m the executor of my father’s estate,” he began, and she nodded. “I
know we’ve never really talked about my family’s wealth in concrete terms
before, but it’s…extensive.”

“Clearly,”
Missy replied, looking at the room around them. “But, Chas, this is really none
of my…” she began to protest.

He
put a finger to her lips, silencing her. “You are the most important thing in
my life, Missy. I want to share this with you, because it could potentially
affect you too,” he admonished gently. She wasn’t quite certain what Chas meant
by that, but remained quiet, realizing that it was important to him to talk
with her about it. “Reggie, Livvy and I came to an agreement as to how the
estate should be split, according to my father’s will, and its practical
application in our lives,” he said, absently running his fingers back and forth
across the top of her hand.

“Reggie
selected a handful of the most profitable businesses that he wants to continue
to run, and he bought out my shares and Livvy’s for those businesses. All other
holdings have been sold to various other corporations, friends, associates and
the like. The mansion will remain in the family, as it has for generations, and
Reggie will continue to live here. My father’s personal belongings will be sold
at auction, with the exception of certain pieces which have sentimental value,
that he has designated to be given to specific individuals,” the detective
explained.

“Sounds
like you have everything figured out,” Missy smiled.

“Almost,”
Chas had a strange look on his face.

“Almost?”
Missy echoed, puzzled.

“I
walked away from all of this,” he gestured to the room around them. “The social
obligations, the business expectations, the sheer volumes of money…I left it
all behind me because I wanted a simpler life, a more meaningful life,” he
shook his head, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“And
that’s exactly what you’ve built for yourself,” she reminded him gently. “So
what’s wrong?”

“My
life…our lives, will never be the same, Missy, they can’t be,” he said with a
sigh.

A
tingle of fear tickled her spine. “What do you mean, why can’t they?” she
asked, trying not to panic.

Seeing
her wary look, he smiled to reassure her. “I don’t think that you quite
understand what I mean when I say that my portion of the estate is…significant.
We’re not talking about having a few thousand dollars tucked away for a rainy
day,” he paused. “Sweetie, my net worth is now measured in billions of dollars,”
Chas said, searching her eyes for a reaction.

Her
look went from stunned to scared, then resigned. “So what you’re trying to tell
me is that you’re going to need to start seeing someone from your own social
class?” she asked in a small, tremulous voice, shocked when Chas let out a
chuckle.

“Seriously,
Missy? I’ve told you before, and I’ll be happy to tell you again and again that
I love you,” he brought her hand to his lips. “As far as I’m concerned, you
are
in my social class. The only reason that I’m telling you this is because I
want you to know that I’ll have more responsibilities, more charity events that
I’ll need to attend, more traveling that I’ll have to do…” he paused, trying to
gauge her response. “And, I’ll want you by my side as much as possible. If I
have to start living a new life, I want to live it with your support,” he
finished tenderly, entirely vulnerable. “You’ll have to put up with a whole
bunch of stuff that we’ve never dealt with before, are you up for it?” he
grinned at his love.

Missy
nodded, eyes filled with tears of relief and joy. She couldn’t care less about
Chas’s fortune, she was just delighted at the invitation to share in his
struggles and successes. “Of course I’ll be there for you, Chas – there’s no
place I’d rather be.