Sugar and Iced (Cupcake Bakery Mystery) (15 page)

The next morning passed by in a blur of buttercream
and sprinkles as they prepped the cupcake tower that would be on display during the talent competition and began baking the cupcakes for the contestant’s recipe event the next day.

Mel was moving so fast she almost slammed into the back door when it was abruptly thrown open and Joyce charged into the room.

“You have to see this!” Joyce cried. She was holding a garment bag up in the air by the hanger and was actually jumping up and down.

Mel, Angie, and Tate all stopped packing the cupcakes to look at her.

“Your friend Alma did it,” Joyce cried. “Lupe is going to kill.”

“Probably not the best metaphor to use at this juncture, Mom,” Mel said.

Joyce blanched. “Sorry. See what happens when I try to be hip? It just goes horribly awry.”

Tate grinned. “We love you anyway.”

Joyce smiled at him and said, “Here, let me just show you the dress and I’ll get out of your hair.”

She crossed the room and hung the hanger on the doorframe. She unzipped the bag and carefully moved it back around behind the dress.

Mel was a diehard jeans and T-shirt sort of girl; skirts were too hard to move around in, silky blouses never fit right, and high heels hurt. But even Mel knew a knock-you-to-your-knees gorgeous dress when she saw one and this was it.

Alma had taken the plain ivory sheath Lupe was going to wear and transformed it. A trail of black velvet roses were embroidered down the left side of the gown, branching at the waist to fan out across the hem in a thick garden of roses.

“Wow,” Mel said. “She must have worked all night on that.”

“No, I think it was one of her minions,” Joyce said. “At least, there was a young woman asleep on a sofa in the corner of the studio who looked like she’d had a rough night, so I assumed it was her.”

“We’re going to have to send her more cupcakes,” Angie said.

“Agreed,” Mel said. “Where is Lupe? Don’t you have to be at the resort for the talent portion?”

“She’s going with Oz,” Joyce said. “I promised to meet her mother and sisters there. How Lupe has managed to keep them out of the loop on all of the trouble, I don’t know, but so far so good, so don’t say anything that might clue her mother in, got it? Apparently, Lupe’s family is very eager to see her performance.”

“Any idea what she’ll be doing?” Tate asked.

“No.” Joyce bit her lip and Mel could tell she was nervous. “The only positive about it is that Lupe hasn’t had time to worry about the murder investigation.”

“They haven’t called her back for more questioning, have they?” Mel asked.

“No, Stan said they were waiting for some test results from forensics before they make their next move,” she said. “I keep telling myself we just have to get through tonight and be ranked in the top five and then she can pull it out for the win. I tried everything with her—singing, dancing, you name it. I can’t imagine what Oz has come up with that I couldn’t, but I’m hoping it can measure up to the years of ballet and such that the other girls have had.”

“Don’t worry, Joyce, I’ve heard a lot of contestants do dramatic readings,” Angie said. “You know, if they can’t sing ‘Over the Rainbow’ or show their jazz hands.”

“I’m sure they came up with something solid,” Mel said. “It can’t be any worse than someone busting out a tired old cheerleader routine.”

“Or a sad, baggy-pantsed hip-hop routine,” Tate said. “Oh, even worse, how about a beat-boxer? That would be just embarrassing.”

Joyce gazed at them with a look of wide-eyed horror. “I don’t even know what beat-boxing is.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Mel said. “Oz is pretty invested in Lupe’s success. I’m sure they came up with something perfectly suitable.”

“You’re right,” Joyce said. “I trust Oz. I do, really. So, I’ll see you all at the show?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tate answered for all of them.

Mel watched her mother go and wondered not for the first time if this was what Joyce had wanted from Mel in her younger days. Had she longed for a beauty queen or at least a daughter who would wear skirts and talk about makeup and boys? Mel had been neither of those things.

As they boxed up the cupcakes and loaded them into the van to take to the pageant, Mel couldn’t help feeling as if she’d let her mother down. She knew it was ridiculous and that her mother loved her exactly as she was—well, maybe more if she were still engaged to Joe—but there was a little part of Mel that wondered if Joyce was living out her fantasies of having the beautiful daughter while helping Lupe with the pageant.

The thought was not pleasant. She wondered if maybe part of the reason Joyce was so into Mel getting married was so that she could plan the wedding with Mel in the big meringue dress and have the beautiful daughter she’d always been denied during Mel’s robust younger years.

“Hey, Mel, you in there?” Angie waved a hand in front of her face. “Time to go.”

Mel shook off her stupor and glanced around the kitchen. They were packed up and ready to ride. “Okay, let’s roll out.”

“Marty, we’re off to the pageant,” Angie called as she popped her head through the kitchen door to the front of the bakery.

Mel heard him grumble something in return. She smiled. At least they hadn’t lost him completely to Olivia. She wondered if there would come a day when he would go and work at Confections. She rejected the thought immediately. No, Marty was loyal. He wouldn’t leave them.

“You okay?” Angie asked her as they headed out the back door.

“Yeah, fine, why?” Mel asked.

“You have a worried look on your face,” Angie said. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like change is coming,” Mel said.

They paused while Tate locked the back door behind them. He threw an arm over each of their shoulders as he walked them to the van.

“Change is a good thing,” he said. “Look at all of us. We’re doing great, taking the business to all new levels.”

Mel blanched.

“Probably not the best example,” Angie said.

As they took their seats with Tate driving, Angie in the passenger seat and Mel in the fold-out jump seat in the back, Tate met Mel’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Breathe,” he said. “Turn your worry over to the universe and then ten minutes later, do it again.”

Mel smiled at him and nodded. Tate knew her so well. The worry always circled back on her but he was right, she just had to keep turning it over to the universe until she let it go completely.

It didn’t take them long to set up the cupcake tower
outside of the auditorium where the girls would perform. Mel had been keeping an eye out for Oz and Lupe, but there had been no sign of them. Much to her surprise, Angie’s brothers Al and Paulie were there, dressed in matching black jeans and T-shirts.

“You two are helping?” Angie frowned at her brothers.

“Yep, we’re the crew,” Al said.

“What is she doing that she needs a crew?” Tate asked.

Paulie looked him up and down. He was undecided yet as to whether he approved of Tate’s new status as Angie’s boyfriend. Tate stood straighter and looked him right in the eyes as if daring him to say anything. Paulie glanced at his sister and then back at Tate. Then he shrugged.

“We’re not allowed to tell you,” Al said around a mouthful of cupcake.

Mel had gone with variety for tonight’s cupcake tower. It was fully loaded with everything from her signature Tinkerbells, a lemon cupcake with raspberry icing, to her Blonde Bombshells, almond cupcake with vanilla buttercream and toasted almonds, to her decadent Death by Chocolates.

“Mel, hurry,” Joyce called from the doorway to the auditorium. “They’re about to start.”

“Coming,” Mel said. “Are you sure you two are okay out here?”

Tate and Angie had agreed to man the cupcake tower so that Mel could sit with Joyce for moral support. Joyce was so nervous she had actually started biting her nails, a nervous habit she had broken years ago.

“Yep, we’re good,” Tate said. “We can see from here. Joyce needs you. Go.”

Mel hurried into the auditorium. She had to scoot past several pairs of knees until she got to the seat Joyce was holding for her. There was another empty seat, which she assumed was for Ginny.

Sitting on the other side of Joyce was a lovely woman who appeared to be only a few years older than Mel. She was wearing a pretty skirt and blouse and had three younger girls sitting on the other side of her. It had to be Lupe’s mom, Gloria Guzman, and Lupe’s little sisters.

“Melanie, this is Gloria,” Joyce said, confirming Mel’s guess. “Gloria, my daughter, Mel.”

“How do you do?” Mel asked as she shook the woman’s hand.

“Terrified,” Gloria said. She gave Mel a comically worried look and Mel laughed.

Looking at Gloria, it was easy to see where Lupe got her good looks from. Gloria had the same lovely features and glossy black hair. Mel realized she must have had Lupe when she was very young. Mel couldn’t imagine being widowed with four daughters to raise. Suddenly, her own life and problems seemed ridiculously easy in comparison.

“I’m nervous, too,” Mel said. “But Lupe is amazing and whatever she does, she is going to be terrific.”

Gloria smiled at her in thanks. Mel blinked. Like Lupe, Gloria’s smile was a stunner.

“Am I late? I didn’t miss it, did I?” a voice asked from behind her.

Mel spun around to find Joe sliding into the empty seat beside her.

“Joe!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

“I asked your mom to save me a seat,” he said. “I couldn’t miss this.”

Impulsively, Mel reached forward and hugged him close. It meant more than words could say that he was here.

“Thank you,” she said when she pulled back.

He studied her face a second. His voice was gruff when he said, “My pleasure.”

A sigh from Mel’s other side let her know that her mother had heard the exchange. Thankfully, the lights abruptly dimmed, a rousing bit of music was pumped into the room, and Cici Hastings took the stage.

She was wearing a sparkly red gown that hugged her curves and had a daring slit up one side that showed off a righteous pair of gams for a lady of her years. She glided across the floor in her heels, and her hair was done up in its usual mass of curls, making her appear taller than she was.

“Welcome to the seventy-fifth annual Sweet Tiara Beauty Pageant,” she addressed the crowd. “Tonight’s portion of the pageant is devoted to our twenty finalists who will be displaying for you their many talents.”

While Cici droned on, Mel felt Joe’s hand on her upper back, gently gliding up and down as if he knew she was a nervous wreck and he was trying to calm her down.

Mel turned to smile at him, but instead she saw Manny and Uncle Stan at the far end of the room, working their way through the crowd. She frowned.

“Sorry,” Joe said. He removed his hand.

“No, it’s not you,” she said. She nodded in Uncle Stan’s direction. “I have a feeling something is about to go down.”

Joe followed the direction of her gaze and blew out a breath. “I think you’re right. Shall we?”

Mel nodded. While Cici introduced the judges, Mel and Joe climbed over the laps of the people surrounding them and hurried to the side of the auditorium. The room lights went all the way down as the stage lights went up. Mel could barely see a few steps in front of her face. Joe’s hand at her back guided her to the wall.

A rousing march blasted through the speakers as a baton twirler burst out onto the stage. Mel stopped to stare as the woman’s sparkly bodysuit dazzled while she marched and spun and tossed her baton high into the air.

“Focus, Mel,” Joe said. “Where are we going?”

“Backstage,” Mel said. “I got the feeling they were headed backstage.”

They hurried out a side door and down the short hall that would give them access to the backstage area. Mel and Joe opened the door and climbed the dark stairs to the back. The booming march was still playing and Mel noticed many girls in costume clustered in the wings, watching their competition with nervous gazes.

“You can’t take her now!” a voice, a deep male voice, shouted from the back corner.

Oz! Mel knew it was him immediately.