Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker (Death by Cupcake Book 1) (11 page)

I
can’t solve problems with cupcakes, but it sure makes me feel better.

“Hey Callie?” At Kristie’s words, I look up from the lecture
I’m working on in the bakery office. It doesn’t matter that it’s already the
Thursday before classes start and we still haven’t found out who killed Dolly,
I plan on being prepared to start classes next week regardless.

“What is it, Kristie?” I slide my glasses on top of my head
and rub the bridge of my nose trying to alleviate some of the tension that
immediately starts to build at the mere idea of not being able to go back to my
teaching position.

“Some guy is here to see you. Says his name is Advokat or something
like that.”

I immediately jump up at the sound of my attorney’s name.
Maybe he has some good news for me. “Send him back.” I quickly gather all my
lectures notes and pile them in a corner of my desk. I’m just shutting my
laptop when Fred Advocaat arrives. He steps in and shuts the door behind him.
Does that mean he has bad news?

“Standard practice when you’re a criminal attorney,” he says
with a wink when he sees me staring at the door.

I breathe a sigh of release and walk out from behind my desk
to shake his hand. “Have a seat,” I say and motion to one of the chairs in
front of my desk. I sit in the other chair and turn it slightly so I’m face to
face with my lawyer. “Please tell me you have some good news.” My voice doesn’t
mask the anxiety I’m feeling.

Advocaat doesn’t immediately respond and instead takes a
folder out of his briefcase before setting the case on the floor next to him.
He opens the folder and pulls out a piece of paper, which he hands to me.
“What’s this?”

“It’s a summary of the autopsy report and tox screen.”
Before I get a chance to even glance down, he continues. “The tox screen proves
that Dolly was indeed poisoned. She was poisoned by propranolol.”

“Propranolol? What’s that?” Besides being a mouthful to say.

“It’s a beta blocker.”

“A beta blocker?” I tap my chin and try to think of what I
know about beta blockers. “Beta blockers block the effects of adrenaline so
that the heart beats more slowly and with less force, reducing blood pressure.”
I look up when the puzzle falls into place. “Which could cause cardiac failure
if taken in massive amounts. After all, the difference between a drug and a
poison is only a matter of dose.” My lawyer stares at me as if I’ve grown a
third eye or something. “What?”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure you’re innocent?
That’s a lot of knowledge about a drug for someone who isn’t in the medical
field.”

“Please, if I had poisoned Dolly, you’d never know she was
poisoned, let alone what I used to kill her.” I’m not exactly lying. I didn’t
care enough about Dolly to want her dead, but if I wanted someone dead, I would
certainly do a better job of covering my tracks than Dolly’s killer did. It’s
amateur hour and yet the detectives are still stumbling around as if this case
were some convoluted Agatha Christie novel. “Anyway.” I decide to get back to
the real issue here. “How do they know that a cupcake killed Dolly?”

Advocaat shakes his head at my abrupt change in the
conversation, but there’s a small grin on his face. “They tested the cupcake as
well, and it was indeed pumped full of propranolol.” He flips open his file and
looks at his notes. “Apparently, the fact that the cupcake was made with
alcohol may have helped increase the effectiveness of the drug.”

“Alcohol? We don’t use alcohol in our cupcakes. If a recipe
calls for alcohol, Anna uses essence instead.”

 “Never?” Advocaat asks as he scribbles some notes.

“Nope. You can have a look at the inventory if you want.” I
sweep my arm out as if to indicate he has free reign in the kitchen, although
Anna would probably kill me if he went snooping around her domain.

He just shakes his head. “That’s fine. It appears that the
cupcake that killed Dolly wasn’t made here then.”

I nod. “But how does that help us?”

Advocaat sets his pen down. “As long as you don’t have a
subscription to a medication with propranolol, this report shows that you
didn’t have the means to kill Dolly.”

“Means?” I fall into my office chair as I think about the
implications of the poison used to kill Dolly. “We need to focus on who could
get their hands on a drug with propranolol instead of who wanted Dolly dead and
was in the gym at the right time.”

Advocaat puts his files away in his briefcase. “That’s not
my purview. My job is to make sure you aren’t convicted of a crime, and we have
enough evidence for even the most biased jury to find reasonable doubt.” He
stands and offers me his hand. “If there isn’t anything else, I’ll see myself
out.”

I’m a bit shocked by his abruptness, but then again he
probably doesn’t want to know anything about what Anna and I have been up to.
It’s not like we’ve been running around committing crimes willy-nilly, but he
doesn’t know that, and he obviously doesn’t want to chance learning about any
of the specifics. I stand. “Thanks for stopping by,” I say as I shake his hand.

“No problem. Ever since the other partners found out my
client owns a bakery, they’ve been bugging me to bring them some baked
goodies.” He smiles and there’s a twinkle in his eye. I guess cupcakes will
make even the surliest attorney gleeful.

I return his smile and shake my head at his boyish grin.
“Make sure you grab a box of cupcakes on your way out. On the house.”

Anna practically barges into Advocaat as she makes her way
into my office. She watches to make sure the attorney exits her precious
kitchen before she turns to me and slams the door behind her. “What was he here
about? Any news?” She’s nearly bursting at the seams with anticipation.

“I’m glad my possible incarceration is exciting to you.” I
sit in my office chair and wait for the inquisition to begin.

“Don’t be like that. Everyone knows you’re innocent.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Really? Everyone? Because it
sure doesn’t feel like that to me.”

She flicks her wrist at me in annoyance. “Stop avoiding the
subject. What did your attorney have to say? Did they find something else? Did
they drop you as a suspect?”

I grab the memo, which Advocaat left for me and wave it at
her. “The autopsy report is finished.”

“And?” Anna bounces in her seat in anticipation.

“Dolly was poisoned by propranolol.”

“Propa-what?”

“It’s a beta blocker used to treat high blood pressure.”

“High blood pressure? So we need to find someone with high
blood pressure?”

I shake my head. “Not necessarily.” I open my laptop and
click on my web browser. “Propranolol could have other uses.” I quickly enter
propranolol
uses
into my search engine. “It’s used for high blood pressure, cardiac
arrhythmias, migraine headaches, and certain types of tremors.”

Anna visibly deflates. “That’s a lot of uses. Any of our
suspects could have a prescription for the medicine.”

I shut my laptop and put my elbows on my desk with my chin
in my hands. “I think we may be looking at this the wrong way around.”

Anna leans forward. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” I say. “Who do we know who has access to lots of
drugs?”

Anna’s quiet for a moment. “Dr. Abrahams!” She jumps up and
shouts.

“Yes,” I nod. “I think we need to have a little chat with
Dr. Abrahams.”

“Yes!” She pumps her fist in excitement. “Do we know where
he lives? Let’s go!” She’s practically out the door already.

“Hold on!” I shout. Anna turns and stares at me. “First of
all, it’s only ten in the morning. He’s probably at work right now. And I don’t
think it’s smart to go to his house. If he’s a killer, there’s no telling what
he’ll do.”

Anna sags against the door. “So what are we going to do
then?”

“Not we, you.”

She perks up immediately. “Oh goodie, what do I get to do?”
She rubs her hands in anticipation.

“Make an appointment with the good doctor. I’d do it, but…”
She doesn’t let me finish my sentence.

“I got this.” She grabs my phone. “What’s his number?”

I
never met a cupcake I didn’t like.

I’m taking a bite of the sandwich monstrosity that Anna made
me for lunch – because Ben doesn’t want me leaving the bakery without him –
when Kristie comes into my office for the second time in one day. “Hey
Kristie,” I say around mouthfuls of food. “You’re working a lot lately.”

She smiles and nods. “Trying to get in some extra hours
before the semester starts.” She clears her throat and places the single
cupcake box she’s carrying on my desk. “This was dropped off for you.”

“Dropped off?” Why would anyone drop off one of my own
cupcake boxes at my bakery?

Kristie blushes. “It was a woman. She said she was asked to
deliver it to you from some man.”

“Some woman?” My mind is screaming
CAUTION!
“Can you
get Anna to cover the store and then come back here?”

Her eyes widen. “Am I in trouble?”

I shake my head. “No, don’t worry. I just need your help
with something.” I smile at her in what I hope is a reassuring manner. She nods
and quickly takes off. I cautiously open the box to find a single chocolate
cupcake with buttercream frosting nesting inside. There’s a
Callie’s Cupcakes
greeting card next to the cupcake. I cautiously pull it out to read.

Thought you could use some cheering up, babe. Ben XXOO

I immediately drop the card back into the box and pick up
the phone to dial Ben. He answers on the first ring. “Sweetheart, is everything
okay?” He rushes out the question. I hate that he’s right about me being in
danger, but now is not the time to care about my injured pride.

“No, Ben, I’m not. Someone sent me a cupcake with a card
from you in it,” I explain.

“A card from me? I didn’t send you anything.”

“I know. It’s not your handwriting, and you never call me
babe.” It doesn’t even look like the person tried to disguise her handwriting,
which is kind of insulting. Did she think I’d be so excited about receiving a
gift from Ben that I’d just eat the cupcake? How stupid does she think I am?
And who in the world is
she
anyway?

On the phone, I hear feet pounding on the pavement. “I’m on
my way. Don’t touch anything.”

I just snort in respond to his admonishment. Like I’d touch
anything. “See you soon,” I say and hang-up.

Kristie returns as I’m getting off the phone with Ben.
“What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in a minute.” I quickly call my attorney to
let him know what’s happening. He tells me to call the detectives and that he’s
on his way. I don’t have the telephone number of Detective Duchamps or
Detective Smits. It’s not like they handed me a business card when they were
interrogating me. Instead, I call the police station and ask to speak to one of
the detectives. They’re unavailable, and I end up leaving a message.

I look up from my phone calls to see Kristie staring at me
with her eyes bugging out of her head. “Have a seat,” I say and indicate one of
my chairs. “You know that I was accused of murdering a woman.” She nods, but
before she gets a chance to respond, I hold up my hand. “Please, let me
continue. I didn’t kill the woman but Anna and I have been sort of
investigating who might have.” I didn’t believe it was possible, but Kristie’s
eyes actually get bigger. “I was threatened once before and told to stop
snooping or Anna would suffer.” I point to the cupcake. “I’m assuming that this
cupcake is poisoned or something because this isn’t from Ben.”

Kristie doesn’t get a chance to respond as the door to my
office bangs open, and Ben rushes into the office. His eyes move up and down my
body in a clinical manner checking to make sure I’m okay. When he pulls me from
my chair and puts his arms around me, I realize how close I came to not being
okay. I start to shake. Ben soothes an arm down my back. “Sshhh, sweetheart,
I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around.”

I don’t know how long we stand there embracing while Ben
continues to murmur nonsensical words of comfort. I’m finally starting to get
my body under my control when the door to my office bursts open again. I squeak
in surprise before peeking at the door from behind Ben’s back to see Detectives
Duchamps and Smits walk into my office. Ben releases me from his bear hug but
just as quickly puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.
“Detectives,” he says and nods at the men.

“Is this the cupcake?” Duchamps asks as he points to the box
on my desk. Ben must have called them as well because I didn’t say anything
about a cupcake in my message.

I nod and nearly jump out of my skin when Kristie responds.
I forgot she was in the room. “Yes, a woman delivered it to the store and told
me that some man had asked her to give it to Callie.”

Duchamps raises an eyebrow in question at Ben, but Ben
shakes his head. “No, I didn’t have a cupcake delivered to my girlfriend who
owns a cupcake bakery,” he grits out.

“It was obvious it wasn’t from Ben. That’s why I immediately
called him and you guys,” I back up Ben.

Smits walks to my desk and looks down at the box. “There’s a
card in here.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “That’s how I knew the cupcake wasn’t from
Ben. Well, besides the fact that it would be stupid to send me a cupcake.” I
clear my throat. “Anyway, the writing on the card is obviously not Ben’s
handwriting, and he never ever calls me babe.”

“That’s because you hate the word,” Ben whispers into my
hair, and I nod. My jerk of an ex-boyfriend, Greg, used to call me babe and it
annoyed the devil out of me. It always sounded like such a throwaway
endearment; like he couldn’t even be bothered to think of something more
appropriate.

My attorney walks in and my already crowded office becomes
even more so. The detectives look at him and scowl, but he just smiles and
waves his arm. “Don’t worry about me, gentlemen. I’m only here to observe.”
They scoff in response, and Advocaat’s smile turns into a smirk. “Unless you
abuse my client’s rights, of course.”

The detectives turn away from Advocaat. “Looks like we’re not
the only ones you called,” Duchamps says and raises an eyebrow at me as if
daring me to contradict him.

“Of course I called my attorney,” I huff. “The last time I
was threatened, you told me not to make a police report.” I point to the
cupcake. “I’m thinking that wasn’t the best advice.”

Advocaat makes a sound similar to a growl. Oops. I may have
neglected to tell my defense attorney about the threatening card I received.

“How do we know you didn’t send this to yourself? To throw
off suspicion?” Smits asks.

I place my hands on my hips and stare him down. “Seriously?
How stupid do you think I am?” I throw my hands in the air. “Why are you having
such a hard time solving this crime? This isn’t some complicated Shakespeare
novel, it’s a flipping poisoning. Why aren’t you questioning Kristie who
received the cupcake? Why aren’t you doing your jobs?” I end on a screech.

Ben grabs my arm and pulls me to his side again. Anna bursts
into the already jam-packed room. She doesn’t say anything but moves to the desk
and studies the cupcake. It’s obvious she’s been listening at the door when she
speaks. “I sure didn’t make that cupcake and neither did Callie.” Smits starts
to speak, but Anna puts her hand up in a stop motion. “We own a cupcake bakery.
That cupcake,” she points at it and makes a face, “is obviously made by someone
who doesn’t know the first thing about buttercream. We decorate a few hundred
cupcakes with buttercream frosting a day. That cupcake would have never made it
out of my kitchen.”

“She could have made a cupcake look bad on purpose,”
Duchamps dares to respond.

Anna snorts and shakes her head. “You obviously don’t know
Callie. She’s a perfectionist in every-freaking-thing. And she loves cupcakes.
She calls them her precious. No way in the world would she make a cupcake like
that.”

Ben drops his arm from around me and crosses his arms over
his chest. “I think it’s time you two started doing your job. Just a
suggestion, but maybe you should interview Kristie. See if you can get a
description of the woman who brought the cupcake.”

Kristie doesn’t wait to be asked. “It was a tall woman. At
least an inch taller than me.” At seven inches over five feet, Kristie isn’t
short. The woman must be at least five feet eight inches tall, which fits
exactly into our profile of the murderer. “She was older. I’d say at least
forty, but probably more like fifty.” She shrugs. “Otherwise, I can’t say
anything. She was wearing a scarf over her hair and big sunglasses.”

Detective Smits obviously doesn’t believe Kristie’s
description. “How do you know she was older if she was covered?”

Kristie rolls her eyes at him. “Her neck and hands. They
always give a woman’s age away,” she says as if she’s some type of expert,
which she sort of is. Her dad is a plastic surgeon, and she spent her teenage
years working in his practice until she could escape to college.

Smits nods even though it’s obvious he’s not happy. “Come
on, I’ll take your statement.” They walk out, and Anna immediately takes
Kristie’s seat.

“So what happens now?” She asks as she looks around the
room.

“Now,” Ben grits out. “Detective Duchamps is going to take
Callie’s statement and then take the cupcake into evidence.”

And that’s exactly what happens. There’s no more arguing
about whether or not I sent myself the cupcake. Duchamps takes my statement
while Advocaat stands in the corner watching to make sure the detective doesn’t
step out of line. When my statement is signed, Duchamps pulls an evidence bag
out of his bag of tricks and secures the cupcake and card. He gives me a copy
of my statement and that’s it. He leaves with a nod to everyone, and I sag into
my chair.

“Why does he hate me? And why does he think I’m stupid
enough to send myself a cupcake?” I ask in the room in general.

I’m surprised when Advocaat answers. “He doesn’t hate you.
He hates me.” He smiles a wolfish grin. “After all, I am a well-known
adversary.” There’s something he’s not telling, but I’m not in the mood to
delve into his secrets. He grabs his briefcase from the floor. “If I’m not
needed anymore, I’ll be heading out.”

“Make sure you grab some cupcakes,” I shout as he disappears
from the kitchen.

“I better get back to work,” Anna says with a groan as she
stands. “We’ll talk later.”

I close my eyes and enjoy the quiet for a moment, but only
for a moment because Ben moves to stand in front of me and clears his throat.
He grabs my hands and squeezes. He hesitates, and I already know I’m not going
to like what he’s going to say. “I’ll be staying with you until the killer is
caught,” he finally announces.

My eyes fly open, and I glare at the frustrating man. I want
to scream at him that I don’t need protection from a killer dumb enough to send
a cupcake to a cupcake bakery. But I don’t. And it’s not because my insides
warm at the thought of Ben wanting to protect me. It’s definitely not because
I’m excited to spend my nights with the gentle man. Nope. It’s because I’m too
tired to argue. Apparently, I’m also too tired to make up believable lies, even
if they are lies I only tell myself.

Before I can manage to form my thoughts into words, Ben
says, “I’ll be right back.” And walks out but he’s back in less than five
minutes with a bag slung over his shoulder. “Apartment keys,” he demands and
holds out his hands.

I don’t move to hand him my keys and instead narrow my eyes
at him. “How did you get a bag packed so quickly?”

He shrugs. “Even before that cupcake arrived, I wasn’t
planning on leaving you alone until the killer is caught.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

He shakes his head and drops his bag before kneeling in
front of me. “Sweetheart, I know you believe you’re not in danger, but I have
to know you’re safe. A year,” he takes a deep breath. “A year I’ve watched and
waited for you. Falling for you more and more each day. Please, I can’t lose
you now.” 

Guess I have a new roommate.