Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker (Death by Cupcake Book 1) (6 page)

Never
judge a cupcake by its frosting.

My fairy trouble-maker has obviously forgotten her woes when
she arrives singing the next day. “Good morning!” She chirps as she waves at me
in my office where I am once again working on invoices. Or at least I’m trying
to work on invoices. Mostly I’m thinking about Ben and how he can work magic
with his tongue. He really is too good to be true.

Anna starts to walk away but then stops and stares at me.
“You look different this morning.” She studies me as if I’m a recipe she’s
trying to puzzle out. “Oh my! Did Ben rock your boat last night?” She doesn’t
wait for my answer but starts dancing around singing, “Callie and Ben sitting
in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist!” I shout out to her.
“That’s all we did.”

She giggles and cheers. “Go Callie! Go Callie!” If she had
pompoms, she’d be rocking out as a cheerleader. I’m beyond relieved that the
bakery doesn’t open for another two hours.

I get back to work, and Anna moves around the kitchen mixing
and preparing dough. The quiet doesn’t last long, though. It never does with
her. She appears in front of my desk and leans down to whisper. “So, are we
going to break into Dolly’s place after closing this afternoon?”

I take my glasses off and rub the bridge of my nose. I
hadn’t thought this through. How in the world are we going to get into Dolly’s
place? We aren’t thieves, and Anna proved quite successfully yesterday that we
are anything but subtle. “This is a bad idea,” I admit to Anna.

“Don’t be a spoil sport!” And then she hits me with the big
guns. “And don’t forget, you need this if you’re going to keep your teaching
position.”

Blast!
She’s right. “Okay. We’ll go there and see if
we can find anything out, but I’m not breaking into her apartment. I’m already
on the hook for a murder I didn’t commit. I don’t need to add breaking and
entering to my rap sheet.”

Anna smiles. “Puh-lease. We got this.”

I can only hope she’s right. If this goes south, though, I’m
throwing her under the bus because no way would any one convict the sprite of
any wrongdoing.

♥♥♥

I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone rings as I’m
locking up at the end of the day. “Hey, Ben,” I say and look around for him
outside the bakery. “Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, honey, but I can’t walk you home today.” I feel
guilty for how relieved that makes me feel. I can’t lie for a darn, and he
doesn’t need to know that Anna and I are planning to try a bit of B&E to find
Dolly’s address book. My guilt turns to anger when I hear his next words. “In
fact, I won’t be around tomorrow either.”

“What?” I knew it! It was all a game to him. He doesn’t want
me. He just wants another notch on his bedpost.

“Beautiful, don’t be upset. I want to be there, but I’m
getting a lot of flak for being the boyfriend of a murder suspect.”

Huh, that’s not what I expected to hear. “Uh, well… okay
then.” I’m a bit tongue tied after his confession. “I don’t want to get you in
trouble.”

“I don’t care about that, but I don’t want to compromise the
investigation.” I hear shuffling in the background. “Uh oh, I’ve got to go.
I’ll call you tonight.” He hangs up before I have a chance to respond. 

I shake my head and return to locking up before following
Anna to the back exit. We hop on our bikes and cycle the two miles to Dolly’s
apartment building. It’s a three-story brick building, which spans the entire
city block. There are several entrances. After a bit of inspection, we discover
that Dolly’s apartment is the second entrance.

We try the door and find the entrance isn’t locked. We
quickly enter and climb the stairs. There are two apartments on each floor. At
least we don’t have to walk through a long hall and pass a bunch of nosey
residents. Dolly’s apartment is on the top floor. We trudge up the three
flights and then just stare at the door. Might as well try the door. No
surprise. It’s locked.

Anna starts to fiddle with the lock, but it’s pretty clear
she has no idea what she’s doing. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when I
hear the door behind me open. “What are you doing?”

I turn to stare at the man yelling at us and nearly fall
down the stairs in surprise. He’s tall, way taller than Ben, although the
kitten heels he’s wearing probably add several inches to his already impressive
height. He’s wearing a pink flowered silk robe and his hair is in a hair net.
Is that mascara he’s wearing?

I start to apologize for bothering him and take the first
step down the stairs, but Anna interrupts my escape attempt.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re home.” She smiles up at him and
flutters her lashes. “We’re in a bit of a jam.”

The neighbor crosses his arms over his chest causing the
robe to drape open. His chest is completely hairless. I look down to see he’s
wearing woman’s underwear. And not just some simple underwear from the local
department store. This is the good silk and lace stuff. That can’t be cheap.

“Richard Wagner reportedly liked to wear women’s underwear
made of silk and satin.” I can’t seem to help myself from blurting out random
facts when I’m nervous. 

He ignores me and demands, “What’s going on?” in a voice
that makes it clear that although he may enjoy wearing woman’s clothing, he’s
definitely a man who won’t be putting up with silly females.

“We’re at our wit’s end,” Anna says as she saunters up to
him. Never one to acknowledge another’s personal space, she’s nearly rubbing up
against him. With their difference in height, Anna’s chest is nearly aligned
with the neighbor’s manly parts. I start to worry about the effect, if any,
having Anna’s female attributes in such close quarters will have on the man’s
underwear. “We’re trying to notify all of Dolly’s friends about the funeral,
but those stupid police took her phone. We have no idea how to find her friends
now.”

The man leans away from Anna and relaxes a tiny bit. “You’re
friends of Dolly? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“We know her from work,” I pipe up.

He raises an eyebrow at me and then proceeds to very
obviously check out my assets. A smile lights up his face. “Yeah, I can see you
working at Club Bristol.” He looks down at Anna and smirks. “But this little
pink-haired one isn’t exactly the type.”

I nearly swallow my tongue and manage to stop myself from
asking what Club Bristol is. He needs to think we work there as he obviously
doesn’t know about Dolly’s job as a pole dancing instructor. Anna is much
quicker on the uptake than me. “I work behind the scenes,” she says. “You know
costume design and that sort of thing.” Does she actually know what Club
Bristol is? Or is she guessing?

The neighbor nods as if it makes sense. I can only hope it
does. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I don’t have a key to Dolly’s place.” He scoots
back into his apartment. “I need to get some sleep. I had a late shift last
night.” I wonder what kind of work he does. “Good luck.” And with that, he
shuts his door, and I hear the lock click as well.

I turn to Anna and place a finger over my mouth. She looks
like she’s about to burst, but she’ll need to do that somewhere outside the
hearing range of the neighbor who obviously has exceptional auditory faculties
if he heard us fiddling with Dolly’s lock while he was sleeping. Anna nods, and
I grab her hand before racing down the stairs and out the building.

It’s only when we reach our bikes locked up at the end of
the block that I dare to speak. “What in the world is Club Bristol?”

Anna grabs her smart phone and starts ticking away. “I’m
guessing by the fact that Dolly was a pole dance instructor and from the name
that it’s a strip club.” It only takes a moment before she confirms her guess.
“Yep. Have a look.” It appears that Club Bristol is a gentleman’s club outside
the city. 

“Now what?” I hand Anna’s phone back to her.

She scrunches up her face at me. “What do you mean? Now
what? Now we go to Club Bristol and snoop around. A titty bar is a much better
place to find murder suspects than a gym.”

“That’s prejudiced,” I say. Did I just say that? I shake my
head. When did my life get this weird?

Anna grabs my arm. “What else are we going to do? Wait for
Laurel and Hardy to solve the murder?” She snorts. “Like that’s going to
happen.”

I know she’s right, but I have no desire to go to a
gentleman’s club or whatever the proper name for a strip club is. With my
rounded stomach and flabby arms, I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. I imagine a
spotlight will zero in on my big butt the minute I walk in such a place.

“We’re going to have to go tomorrow, though.” Anna has no
clue I’m having an existential crisis. She’s blabbing on as if there’s nothing
strange about women going to a strip club. “I’ll need to borrow my roommate’s
car. It’s really far out of town, and we’ll need a car in case we need to make
a quick getaway.”

Quick getaway?
I should have never told her the pink hair
was cute.

When
stressed and in doubt, cupcake it out.

I spend the next day flip-flopping between trying to
persuade Anna going to the strip club is a bad idea to trying to convince
myself that I don’t have a choice and it won’t be so bad.
Yeah right.
By
the time closing rolls around, I’m a mess of nerves. Either Anna doesn’t notice
or she doesn’t care because she completely ignores my moodiness.

We lock up and get into Anna’s roommate’s car to head to the
outskirts of town to Club Bristol. We’re ahead of rush hour and it takes us
less than thirty minutes to find the address. Anna pulls into the parking lot
and stops. There are only four other cars in the lot. Half past four on a
Wednesday afternoon doesn’t appear to be a peak time for a strip club.

The club is everything I imagined a strip club would look
like – a squat one-story industrial-type building without any windows. The
brick work has been whitewashed, but it’s obviously been awhile since the wash
was performed as the current color is a dingy gray. There are advertisements
all over the place for ‘the best dancing girls in the state’.

Anna jumps out of the car, her body trembling in excitement.
I reluctantly open the door and follow her. The black door is on the right-side
of the building and is currently unmanned. I assume there’s normally a bouncer,
though, as there’s a stool next to the door as well as an overflowing ashtray.

I take a deep breath and walk into the club. It’s dark and
smoky. No surprise there. The floors are covered in shag carpeting, the walls
are painted a red so deep it looks black, and the chairs are red velour. Is
strip club a euphemism for whore house? To the right is a shiny, black bar.
Straight ahead is a stage in an M-shape with three stripper poles. Of course
there are stripper poles. Dolly worked here after all.

“You next?” A man shouts, and I nearly jump out of my shoes.
I look to my left to see two men in shiny suits sitting at a table in the
middle of the room. “Come on, doll, are you the next dancer?”

“Dancer?”

The man rolls his eyes and talks to the man next to him.
“Not the brightest one of the bunch is she?” He turns back to me. “Come on,
sweetheart.” He looks me up and down, and I feel the sudden need to shower with
bleach. “You’ve got the body for it. Show us what you can do.”

I’ve got the body for it? Have we landed on planet
opposite?
I’m still trying to figure out how to respond when Anna grabs my
hand. “Where are the dressing rooms? She needs to change.”

The man points to a door on the right side of the stage
behind the bar. “Hurry up. We ain’t got all day!”

Anna pulls me to the door. I stumble behind her unsure if I
should follow her or get the heck out of Dodge. She pushes through the door and
looks around before spotting a room filled with racks of clothing. She forces
me into a chair before moving to the clothing rack and pawing through the
outfits.

“Anna, stop!” I say when my brain finally catches up. “I
can’t go up there and dance. Let’s just get out of here and come back another
time.”

I don’t even get a chance to stand up from the chair before
Anna’s on me. Her tiny body boxes me in the chair. “I don’t want to hear it!
You heard the man. You’ve got the perfect body for this because you’re… let’s
say it together… sexy!” She turns back to the rack of clothes. “Besides, while
you’re up there doing your thing, I can snoop around.” She pulls out an outfit
and hands it to me.

I don’t have a choice but to take the hanger as she shoves
it in my hand. There’s not enough fabric here. She’s got to be kidding me. “I
can’t wear this,” I protest.

Anna’s having none of it. “You will wear it, and you will go
up on that stage and totally rock! In the meantime, I’ll be doing some
investigating so we can save your job. You know, the one that you spent the
last ten years studying and preparing for?”

I want to scream and shout and fight her, but I don’t really
see what other option we have. I suppose we can sneak out the back door, but
then we’d have to come back at some point as this is our only lead. Mr. Creepy
#1 and Mr. Creepy #2 might not recognize me – a chubby girl with boring brown
hair. But a tiny pixie with bright pink hair? I shake my head and put on the
darn outfit.

The school girl skirt is beyond short. Does it even count as
a skirt if your underwear is visible? Thanks to naughty thoughts concentrated
on Ben and where kissing him might lead, at least I’ve got one of my few sexy
pairs of undies on. My black satin bra and panty set with pink edging is
probably tame for the usual patrons of this place, but it’s all I’ve got. On
top is a short-sleeved white blouse. At least it covers up the girls.

Anna takes one look at me and shakes her head. She undoes
all of the buttons on the blouse and ties the ends together under my breasts.
“There, that’s better.”

“I’m practically naked,” I hiss.

She shrugs. “It’s a titty bar. I think they want to see
tits.” She takes off my glasses and places them in her pocket. Then, she
reaches up and takes the band out from my ponytail and quickly finger combs my
hair.

“Hey!” A man enters the dressing room, and I nearly hit the
ceiling when I jump at the sound of his voice. The door was open the entire
time I was changing. OMG! He could have seen everything. “What music you want?”

“
Paradise City
by Guns N’ Roses,” Anna answers before
I can even process the question. He nods and takes off without another glance
at me or my outfit. Guess he’s used to seeing naked or nearly naked women
running around here all the time.

Anna pushes me out the dressing room door towards the back
of the stage. The man is standing in front of a massive sound system. He looks
up as I approach. “All ready whenever you are.”

I gulp and nod. He smiles. “You’ll be fine.”

“Just do the routine from class,” Anna whispers as I slowly make
my way up the stage. At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on my heels
since I’m barefoot.

The familiar notes of Guns N’ Roses starts, and I move to
the pole. I can do this. I take a deep breath and wait for the first words of
the song. My head starts to bob with the drumbeat and then I’m off. I’m
actually doing this. I’m swirling around the pole. I’m concentrating so hard on
remembering the routine we learned in class that I don’t have time to be
nervous. I think I may even flip my hair a few times.

The song finishes, and I stop to catch my breath. I start to
escape but am stopped by the man who I assume is the manager. “What’s your
name, babe?”

No way I’m giving him my real name. I desperately search the
room for inspiration. “Miller,” I say when my eyes lock on the beer taps.

“When can you start?”

“What?” I scrunch my eyes in confusion. 

“We’re short staffed at the moment. Lost one of our best
dancers.” Dolly was one of their best dancers?

I snort and pretend to be the stripper they’re interviewing.
“What’d she do? Get pregnant?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “Got herself killed.”

“Oh my!” I say with fake shock and put my hand over my
heart. “I don’t know if I can work somewhere dangerous.” Where is this coming
from?

“No worries,” the other man says and waves his hand as if to
dismiss my fears. “She wasn’t killed here.”

“Did she take a John home?” I do another snort. At least I
hope it sounds like a snort. It’s really hard to fake a snort. “She should know
better.”

“Honey, the woman was a pro. Don’t you worry your pretty
head about it. You’re perfectly safe with us.” Now I really want to snort.
“When can you start?”

I’m just about to tell him I don’t want the job when I see
Anna behind the bar nodding her head and mouthing
next week.
Bugger.
“Next week.”

“Dale will help you with the paperwork.” Who the heck is
Dale? The music man comes forward and touches my elbow.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” Anna meets us in the hallway and
hands me my glasses before slipping away again. Dale takes me to a tiny office
behind the stage and hands me a bunch of employment paperwork. I try not to act
surprised. I figured strippers were paid under the table. Not like I have any
experience except for television and movies.

I decide I can’t let the opportunity to question a colleague
of Dolly’s go. “Do you really think it’s safe?” I speak softly, hoping that
makes me sound frightened.

“Yeah,” he nods. “No worries. Dolly was a piece of work.
Everyone is pretty much convinced her current boyfriend had her taken care of.”

“Really!” I don’t have to fake sounding fascinated. Not when
I may be learning the name of Dolly’s killer. “Why?”

Dale shrugs. “Typical BS. He was married; she threatened to
tell the wife unless he gave her a bunch of money.”

“Wow,” I breathe out. “It sounds like a soap opera.”

“Honey,” he smiles at me. “If that sounds like a soap opera,
you’re gonna love working here. It’s drama all day, every day.” He starts to
leave. “Just bring that to me when you’re done filling it out.”

“Sure,” I say. “By the way, what was her boyfriend’s name?”
He looks at me a bit odd, so I add. “Just so I know who to stay away from when
I’m working here.”

He nods. “Doctor Abram or Abramson or something like that.”

“Thanks,” I smile. 

Anna finds me while I’m filling out the paperwork with a
fake name and made-up address and phone number. She’s holding up my clothes and
shoes. “Thank goodness,” I say and start moving out of the room. “Let’s get out
of here.”

We quickly locate Dale, and I give him the absolutely
worthless paperwork before we practically run out of the place. I don’t even
bother to get changed, although I do throw my t-shirt on over the slutty school
girl outfit.

“I got nothing,” Anna says once we’re safely ensconced in
the car.

“But I did. I think I may not only have a suspect but the
murderer. After all…” I turn to Anna with an evil grin on my face. “Who better
to murder a woman than her married boyfriend?”