Dizzy Spells (3 page)

I didn’t know whether or not to offer
consolation, but I was still unsure how she would react if I did.
“Did you want a slice, or the whole cake?”

“The whole thing,” Dianne said. “And I’ll
have two of whatever those cupcakes are there, the ones with the
purple frosting.”

I nodded and boxed up the cake, and then got
a smaller box for the cupcakes. I boxed them up as well and placed
both boxes on the top of the counter. “Is there anything else?” I
asked.

Dianne took one look at the boxes and then
the tears came. Her sobbing was as loud as her tears were seemingly
unending.

I stood rooted to the floor, unsure what I
should do, and then went out behind the counter and patted Dianne
on the shoulder. It had no effect whatsoever.

The swinging door that led to the back room
burst open, and Thyme barreled into the storefront. “Good gravy,
what’s going on?” she asked before she got a good look at
anything.

“Dianne’s here. She’s upset,” I said,
stating the obvious as the woman’s wails had risen to high
volume.

“What’s wrong?” Thyme asked, hurrying over
to Dianne.

“It’s horrible!” Dianne wailed, speaking
when she could between sobs.

Thyme took Dianne by the arm. “Let’s get you
some tea.”

While Thyme took Dianne out the back, I
hurried to the front of the store and locked the door, and then
swung the orange and black open sign around to read ‘Closed’.

When I made it to the back room, I found
Thyme at the stove, heating water in a kettle on a burner. Dianne
was sitting on a small folding chair next to the table. She was
still crying, although it seemed as though she was getting herself
together.

“So what’s wrong?” Thyme asked her.

“The police came to my store today,” Dianne
said. “Thomas Hale was killed.”

“Did you know him?” I asked.

“Of course,” Dianne said. “We both lived in
Newcastle before moving here.”

Thyme and I exchanged glances. “You moved
here together?” I asked her. Newcastle was a major city, and no one
would know everyone in their own suburb, let alone in the entire
city.

“What? No, nothing like that,” Dianne said,
shaking her head. Her black curls swirled so violently that I
thought they would fly off.

Thyme set her tea in front of her and then
sat in the chair across from Dianne.

“You both happened to move here and knew
each other?”

“I didn’t know him—I just knew of him. I
heard he was moving here, and I knew he was a realtor, so I asked
him to help me find a place, because I had decided to move here as
well. He actually sold my house back home, too. My old home, I
should say.”

I blinked. That was quite a coincidence. “So
why did the police speak to you? Why were you so upset?”

“They came to my store, and then they took
me to the police station. They said Thomas was murdered! They
weren’t just asking questions!” Dianne insisted, and then, after
she sucked in another breath, she wailed, “I’m a suspect!” She took
a sip from the mug of tea, and that seemed to calm her. I figured
it was chamomile tea, with perhaps some valerian.

“That doesn’t mean you’re a suspect,” Thyme
said in a placating tone.

“Oh, yes it does,” Dianne said. “I knew him.
I came to Bayberry Creek. I asked him to go to the house he was
killed at.”

“What?” I screeched.

“I saw the house on one of my trips here,
when I was deciding whether or not to move here. I drove through
some years ago and fell in love with the place. I knew this town
was perfect for my shop. I can sense things, you know. The years
went by, and I never forgot it. When you have my gift, it just
comes out. I know that the man you’ll marry already has his eye on
you,” Dianne said, nodding at me.

I frowned.

“And you, Thyme,” she continued, “I know
that you look up to your boss here, and you desperately hope that
one day you will be as good a baker as she is. I know you will be!
I can see it.”

I had to fight to keep from laughing. Thyme
was shaking and had her hand pressed over her mouth, so I knew she
was having trouble, too. Yet despite my amusement, I wanted to know
about my house. “Why did you send him to the house?”

“I wanted that house. I’ve got my shop, and
there’s a tiny apartment above it that I’m staying in now, but I
want to buy that home. It’s a lovely Victorian one. I asked Thomas
to see if it was available, and he said he would go to the owner
and ask. He was a kind man, you know. I sensed good things for him
ahead. He was going to come into some money. But people can change
things, and now he won’t come into money, or anything good.” She
sniffled again.

“So, you can see things, but they might not
come true?” Thyme asked skeptically.

“Yes. But if you’re worried about the baking
thing, I’m telling you, some day you really will be just as
talented at baking as Amelia is.”

“Thanks. I was worried about that,” Thyme
said with a barely suppressed chuckle.

Dianne mopped her eyes. “This is horrible.
I’m a suspect, but I’m not a murderer!”

Thyme and I murmured words of sympathy, but
Dianne cut us off. “You two are going to help me. I can see that in
our futures.” She took another sip of tea and then set down her
half empty cup.

“That’s my house, you know,” I said.

Dianne looked up at me, puzzled.

“The house you wanted to buy,” I said. “The
Victorian. That’s my house. I live there.”

“Amelia is the one who found the body,”
Thyme said.

I shot Thyme a look, expecting the
pronouncement to upset Dianne, but on the contrary, the woman
stopped crying altogether. She fixed me with a steely gaze, her
eyes glittering. “You found Thomas Hale’s body?” she asked me. “And
that was your house? He died at your house?” Her faced filled with
shock, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

She stood up abruptly. “Thank you for
everything. We can speak tomorrow.” She rushed for the front
door.

I followed her to unlock the door, and then
locked it behind her. It was now past closing time. When I turned,
I saw Thyme leaning against the end of the counter.

“She didn’t pay for those cakes, did
she?”

I shrugged. “She was upset. I couldn’t say
anything.”

Thyme laughed. “I’m surprised she didn’t
tell you that she saw you losing money.”

Chapter 5

The first thing the following morning, Thyme
was showing me, for the umpteenth time, how to make cupcakes. I
really don’t know why she bothered. I knew it was going to be a
disaster.

The ringing as the front door opened
signaled a customer. “Saved by the bell,” I said smugly, setting
down the flour. The disaster was averted, or at least delayed.

The customer was none other than Dianne. “I
feel faint,” she announced loudly, taking off her raincoat and
shaking droplets of water all over my newly washed floor. “I’d like
a dozen chocolate peanut butter cupcakes, please.” She jabbed her
finger on the display cabinet.

“Are you still having dizzy spells?” I asked
her.

She nodded. “It’s the police. I’m just so
stressed ‘cause they obviously see me as a suspect. It’s just not
fair. By the way, I Friended you on Facebook last night.”

I smiled at her. “Yes, I accepted.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Why don’t you have any
photos on Facebook? Your profile picture is of two cats.”

“I’m camera shy.” I accepted the money from
her, thankful that she had actually paid this time.

“A pretty girl like you? If I looked like
you, I’d have my photos all over my Facebook page. As it is, I
don’t use Facebook much.”

I smiled at her. I wondered if that was why
her Facebook privacy settings were so high. Plus there was the fact
that she didn’t have any posts at all.

“Your grandmother was very fond of cats,”
she said. “I mean your mother’s mother. She loved cats. She always
had plenty of them running around the house.”

“She was allergic to cats,” I said without
thinking, and then gave myself a mental kick for being so
tactless.

Dianne shook her head. “That was when she
was older. Madam Dianne sees all. She had plenty of cats when she
was younger. You just didn’t know about that.”

I shrugged. I knew for a fact that my
grandmother had been diagnosed at an early age with a severe
allergy to cats, and consequently had an aversion to cats all her
life.

Dianne was still speaking. “You inherited
your love of cats from your grandmother. Her favorite cat was
called Oktoberfest, named after her German ancestry and her love of
beer.”

“My grandmother?” I asked incredulously. My
grandmother had Irish ancestry on both sides, no German ancestors
whatsoever, and was a strict teetotaler Baptist.

“Yes,” Dianne said forcefully. “Obviously
there was a lack of communication between you and your
grandmother.”

I nodded and did my best not to laugh. I
boxed up the cupcakes and handed them to her.

“Madam Dianne senses that you, not Thyme,
made these cupcakes,” she said. “I sense that they are even better
than all your usual cupcakes.”

“Thanks,” I said, still trying to keep a
straight face.

Before she made it to the door, two men
hurried into the shop.

I looked up, but the smile froze on my face.
They were two stern-looking men, and the shorter one was holding
out his badge to Dianne.

“Ms. Dianne Longley?”

Dianne nodded and took a step backward.

“I’m Detective Harrison, and this is
Detective Sassafras of the Homicide Squad,” the taller one said
sternly, closing his big black umbrella with a snap.

I felt guilty, and I hadn’t even committed a
crime.

“You might be able to help us with the
investigation into Thomas Hale’s murder,” Harrison continued.

“Me?” Dianne squealed. The poor woman was
obviously terrified.

“I’d like you to accompany us back to the
station to help us with our inquiries,” the other detective
said.

Dianne ran behind the counter to me. She
threw her arms around my neck and gripped tightly. “Help me!” she
said dramatically.

I struggled to breathe, and pulled her arms
from my throat. “Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re not being arrested
or anything. Is she?” I asked the cops.

“No,” Detective Harrison said.

That did not seem to placate Dianne at all.
She reached for my wrists. “Please help me, Amelia. I’m all alone
in the world. Promise that you’ll help me! Say the words!”

“I’ll help you,” I said. I had no idea how,
but my heart went out to her. I knew what it was like to be alone.
“Don’t forget your cupcakes.”

“Ms. Spelled, we will be speaking to you
later,” Sassafras said, pointing to me.

I winced, and handed the box to Dianne. She
left with the police, casting a terrified look over her shoulder as
they escorted her out the door. I headed for the swinging doors to
tell Thyme what had happened, but was forestalled by the front door
opening once more.

It was Kayleen, the mail lady, and she had
never once bought a cake from my store. The day was rapidly heading
downhill. “Hi Kayleen,” I said warily.

“Are you trying to avoid me?” she
snapped.

I was puzzled. “No, why do you say
that?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question,”
she barked. “It’s a sure sign of guilt. You’re never home when I
deliver the mail.”

“That’s because I’m always here at work,” I
said, unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice.

Kayleen appeared to be digesting that for a
moment. “Oh, I see,” she said after an interval. “I just thought
you had a good hiding place. I couldn’t see you when I looked
through your windows.”

“You looked through my windows?”

Kayleen shrugged. “Yes, but I think you
should stop spraying for cockroaches, or whatever it is that you
do. I always get sick near your house. I think I’m allergic.”

I nodded. “Well, I must get back to
work.”

Kayleen ignored me. “Did you hear what
killed that man you found?”

Now she had my interest. “No, what killed
him?”

“Insulin!” Kayleen proclaimed triumphantly.
“A big shot of insulin!”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure?”

Kayleen winked at me. “I own the courier
service here too, you know, not just the mail contract. Anyway, my
girlfriends and I are going to Coffs Harbour next Monday. Wanna
come?”

“I’d love to,” I lied. “Thanks for asking,
but I can’t shut the shop.”

Kayleen was visibly affronted. “It will do
you good,” she said angrily. “You need to take some time off.”

“I can’t afford to shut the shop.” I said it
firmly but politely.

“I knew it!” Kayleen yelled. “You
are
trying to avoid me! I’ll get you for this!” She stormed out of the
shop, almost knocking down a customer on her way.

I served the customer, and was just heading
out to the kitchen to fill in Thyme on the news, when the phone
rang. “Help me!” Dianne’s voice screeched on the other end. “The
police have just searched my house! They think I did it!”

I did the only thing I could do. I ate a
double chocolate cupcake with cream cheese frosting in one go.

Chapter 6

“Thyme, the caramel frosting is amazing.” I
closed my eyes as I savored a second bite of the sample
cupcake.

“The salt really makes a difference.” Thyme
frosted a set of cupcakes with swirling spirals of the pale brown
frosting. “Salted caramel’s a pretty popular summer treat here. It
ought to help draw in more traffic.”

I nodded as I swallowed the last of my
cupcake. Of course, if this kept up I would have to start my
morning runs again. These sweets were going to expand my waistline
before I knew it. Thyme’s cupcakes were just too tasty to resist
trying. How in the world did she get it right the first time?