Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (7 page)

A smile bloomed over Jasmin’s face. “Yes, Mom says I’m the best in my class and I really like it.”

She was a charmer and I couldn’t help but like her immediately. “That’s good. We should all have a chance to do the things we like.” The really lucky ones were able to make a living doing what they liked. I took the seat beside Connie and looked at my watch. I needed to get back to the shop so Lenny could take off, and then there was my sort-of date with Jack. Just the thought made my insides do the rumba.

“You don’t have any children. Why are you here?” Connie asked as if she just realized I didn’t belong. Her tone was less aggressive than before, but not completely mollified.

“I’m picking up Honey’s daughter, Madison. Honey’s in a meeting this afternoon, and things were slowing down for us.” So untrue, I had a zillion things to do, but that was beside the point.

“That’s why I don’t have a job—I couldn’t give my daughter all of the attention she needs and encourage her to improve her talents if I worked.” She frowned. “Some people don’t prioritize their children enough.”

I forced my smile to stay put, even if I wanted to smack the woman for insinuating that Honey was a sub-par mother for having a part-time job that she could work at home with her toddler. Or that a woman shouldn’t have an interest or two outside of her family. Not everyone was the same. Instead I said, “So true, if people put their kids first, there would be no need of social services.” I was making all kinds of inaccurate statements today. What was one more?

I turned my attention back to the daughter. “I hear you also sing and act.”

“Yes,” Connie answered as Jasmin opened her mouth to speak. “She should have gotten the lead in the class pageant, but Miss Clark picked someone else.
Maggie Collins
.” She said the name as if uttering something terrible. “Can you believe it? The twit really should have been stage crew instead. She’s not fit to be the one out in front.” She straightened Jasmin’s hair with a little tug. “Not like my sweet girl here.”

“Sometimes people don’t see the obvious.” I agreed, though I didn’t have a clue who Maggie Collins was. I bet she would do a fantastic job. 

“I know; I wrote a letter to the school complaining about Miss Clark, but they didn’t do anything. Honestly, I’m ready to pull my daughter out and take her to one of the other schools, even if it means a long drive into downtown Prescott every day. People need to learn that not all children are created equal and some deserve extra attention.”

I glanced at her daughter, who wore a frown, as if she didn’t completely agree with her mother. I really hoped she kept that independent thinking going, but I didn’t expect it to happen. People who are told they are better than everyone else generally come to believe it. “It must be a relief to you that Miss Clark is dead, then. Maybe they’ll recast the pageant.”

She shook her head. “No, I already called the school this morning to find out but Miss Pinkston said she wasn’t going to change anything even though the performance is nearly three weeks away. When I tried to go over her head, the principal wouldn’t overrule her. The people at that school are so stubborn and blind.”

“What a shame.” I glanced at the clock in the studio and realized I only had a minute or two at the most before class got out, and more parents were already arriving with their little darlings. “I saw the cupcakes you brought to the Halloween carnival, they were so perfect. Did you stay long?”

She looked pleased that I’d complimented the cupcakes. “It’s a talent of mine, one you share, so I’m sure you understand how fulfilling cooking can be.” She brushed imaginary lint from her tawny pants. “No, I just dropped them by and ran out again. I had to get Jasmin to violin lessons.” She cocked a grin. “No rest for the weary, is there?”

“Violin? I thought it was piano?” I said. “Is there someone in town who teaches violin?”

“It’s piano, violin and harp, actually. I take her to a woman over by the Prescott Gateway Mall.”

“I wanted to play the saxophone instead of the harp, but she says it’s not ladylike.” Jasmin looked disgruntled.

“And it’s not,” her mother said with a nod.

“I’m not a lady, I’m a girl,” Jasmin shot back at her.

I bit back a smile. “The harp is so refined.” I really liked the harp, and if I were at all musically inclined, I think that’s what I would have tried. Sheet music is a language I’ve never learned, however. I looked at the little girl, who appeared disgruntled. “And there’s time to play around with saxophones later if you still want to when you get older.”

Her lips quirked, as if she would hold onto that possibility. Connie didn’t seem nearly as okay with the suggestion.

I looked back at the studio in time to see the girls inside turn and walk to the door. Madison was talking with one of her friends and gesturing with her hands. I caught the end of her words as they exited the room. “And then she called the cops and Mom made me leave the school. It was so
unfair
. I’m the one who really found her.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about her wishing she’d seen Miss Clark lying there dead. I sure wished I hadn’t seen it.

“It was good talking to you, Mrs. Larabee, Jasmin. Have fun.” I looked back over to see Madison pick up her bag.

She smiled up at me. “Are you ready to go, Auntie Tess? I think I need a treat after dancing.”

“Do you?” I took her offered hand and gave it a squeeze. “I might know somewhere that a busy dancer could get a treat.”

“Did you see me? Didn’t I do good? It was fun.” She grinned up at me.

“I’m glad you had fun, it sure looked like it.” I avoided answering the question about how good she was. I was sure with more practice she wouldn’t look so much like a galloping turkey.

As we headed for my Outlander, I wondered how long the drive was to Jasmin’s violin lessons. Had there been enough time for Connie to take her daughter to the lesson and return before Francine was killed? I decided I might need to make a drive out to the mall to see for myself.

Cupcakes

1 cup butter, softened

2 eggs

1 cup granulated sugar

3 oz package of lemon gelatin

1/2 tsp salt

1 1/4 tsp baking soda

1 cup buttermilk (or one cup of milk with a tablespoon of vinegar that’s been allowed to sit on the counter for a few minutes)

3 cups flour

1 to 1 1/2 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen (according to your preference)

¼ cup brown sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Cream the butter, sugar and eggs until smooth. Mix in gelatin and then the buttermilk. In another bowl mix the salt, baking soda and flour, then add slowly to the wet ingredients, mixing as you go. In a separate bowl, a food processor or a blender, mush up the blueberries and brown sugar, then add to the other batter. Spoon the batter into cupcake liners so they are about 2/3 full.

Bake for 22-25 minutes or until just starting to turn brown around the edges. Makes 2-dozen cupcakes.

Frosting

1/3 cup butter or shortening

1/4 cup milk

1 Tbsp lemon juice

3 cups powdered sugar

Blend the ingredients until well mixed. You may need to add more powdered sugar until you reach the desired consistency depending on your current weather conditions. Spread on the cupcakes when they have cooled completely.

“Whoa, what’s with you in the normal clothes?” Jack asked when I came down the rear stairs from my apartment half an hour later. “You look great. I’d forgotten what you look like in civvies.”

“Really? So my chef’s jacket doesn’t look great?” I arched a brow at him. I stepped into the courtyard, folded my zippered red hoody over my arm and clung to a bag of leftovers from the previous day. It wasn’t cold enough to need extra layers yet, but with the short-sleeved red blouse I wore, chances were I’d want it before too much time passed. It felt good to dress in something nice, even if it was casual.

“Okay, women only ask questions like that when they want to trap a guy.” He held up his hands to ward off any objections. “But the truth is, you always look great. Maybe even when you’ve got blood pouring from your shoulder and are whining about the IV I’m about to put in.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to decide if he was joking. He opened the car door for me and I slid into the passenger seat of his green sedan.

When he came around and climbed in beside me, I nodded. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad in
your
uniform, either.” Actually, he looked terrific in his EMT shirt, with all its crisp lines accentuating his broad shoulders and the navy blue color somehow making his pale eyes even bluer.

“Thanks.” He seemed unsure what to do with my compliment. “Do you have any idea where we start with the rangers?”

“I was told the ranger station has someone on duty in and around the Keystone Campground until nightfall. They should be able to help us out with who was on the clock Friday night, so we can see if anyone remembers Cole.”

I produced a picture I’d downloaded of him from the Net. I also knew the make, model and color of his truck, which I’d gotten through the grapevine, aka Honey. “I’m hoping if I show this to the ranger, he might be able to confirm or deny seeing Cole fishing Friday night.”

“If not, it doesn’t mean that he wasn’t there, does it?” Jack asked. “It just means the ranger didn’t see him.”

“Right, but getting a definite response is something. Right now I’m running on almost nothing.”

“So do you like him for the murder?” Jack asked.

“You’ve been watching too many cop shows. ‘Like him for the murder?’” I teased.

“Maybe, but you still got the point. So?”

“I don’t know. All we can do is find out. He seems unlikely, but he was stalking Francine and apparently he had this whole made-up relationship with her in his mind. Weirder things have happened.”

“What’s that bag of cookies for?” Jack asked a moment later.

“Wait and see.”

We arrived at the ranger station to find a tall Asian man flipping through paperwork. He glanced up, a look of annoyance on his face, when we approached. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, I was wondering if you were the ranger on duty Friday night,” I said.

“I was here.”

“How late?”

He set his hands on the pile of papers, looking exasperated. “Do you have a problem? Something I can help you with?”

I could see I was pushing my luck, so I decided to cut to the chase. “My brother said he was down here fishing Friday night and he lost his lantern out by Iguana Point. I wondered if you saw him. The lantern belonged to my grandpa before he died, so it was kind of special. He was in a fishing boat.”

He stared at me. “I haven’t heard about a lantern being found. Sorry, I can’t help you.”

“But did you see him there? I mean, maybe instead of Iguana he was on the north side, sometimes he can’t remember. He drives a blue Ford Ranger. It’s about twelve years old. Do you drive past there?”

“You expect me to remember a random truck I
might
have seen five days ago?” he asked.

“I hoped maybe you would.” I lifted the bag of cookies that I’d brought. “I’m sure you worked a long day today. I thought you might like a snack.” Seeing his disbelieving look, I explained. “Sweet Bites is my bakery, and I had some leftovers.” They were from the day before, but they’d still be good.  

He gave me a suspicious look but dug into the bag and took a cookie. After his first bite, his demeanor got slightly less frosty. “What kind of truck was it that he drives again?”

I let myself smile inside and repeated the info, then showed him Cole’s picture. “He said he was fishing near the dock, but you know how it goes; he could have put in almost anywhere.”

“Not on that side of the lake, he couldn’t,” the ranger said, reaching for another cookie. “The reeds are really thick in that area everywhere except for where they put in the boats so if his truck wasn’t nearby, he wasn’t there. If his boat is on a trailer, it’s more likely that he unloaded at Yucca Cove.”