Sugar and Iced (Cupcake Bakery Mystery) (19 page)

Angie, Mel, and Joyce did the best they could with the
cupcake recipes they had been given. As Oz and Tate loaded up the van to take them to the pageant, Mel fretted that she had tried to make the presentation portion of the cupcakes as equal as possible. She didn’t want to give anyone an advantage given that there was really nothing to be done about the taste portion. Some of those cupcakes were just going to be toxic no matter how hard she had tried to make them palatable.

“Are we ready?” Angie asked.

“As we’ll ever be,” Mel said.

They left Marty in charge of the bakery since Oz de-manded to be at the pageant. Tate would do drop-off and then circle back to help Marty, since the window-repair workmen were supposed to be there in the afternoon to fix the front window. Needless to say, one of the DeLaura brothers “knew a guy” and so the repair was progressing much faster than Mel had anticipated.

Joyce had left early to help Lupe get waxed and polished for the evening gown competition later in the day. Ginny had offered up her own personal stylist and Joyce had taken her up on it. Mel did not envy Lupe the morning of primping she was about to endure.

When Mel and Angie arrived at the resort, it was
abuzz with contestants and stage mothers. Olivia had arrived before them and the cupcakes she had baked for the contestants were already front and center in the lobby cupcake tower. Mel and Angie set to work unpacking the ones they had baked and arranging them in the spaces Olivia had left open for them.

“Really, Cooper?” Olivia snickered as she stood nearby in her blue chef’s coat with her gray corkscrew curls twisted up on her head in a bun. “Is that the best you could do?”

Mel slowly turned to face her. “Are you seriously trash-talking me?”

Olivia nodded and grinned. “I can’t help it. It’s like old times.”

“Intervention,” Angie muttered. “I’m just saying.”

Mel glanced at the tower and took in the sight of some of Olivia’s cupcakes.

“Red Hots?” she asked. “And I thought Pixy Stix were bad.”

“Yeah, I had to taste test some of these on my dog,” Olivia said in an undertone. “Everyone else refused and even the dog turned his nose up at that one.”

Angie opened her mouth to say something that Mel was quite certain should not be said, so she stepped on her foot.

“Ouch!” Angie yelped.

“Oh, so sorry,” Mel said. She turned to Olivia, who was watching them with one eyebrow raised. “I’m such a klutz.”

“That’s okay.” Olivia clapped her on the back with enough force that Mel almost went headfirst into the cupcake tower, only the edge of the table stopping her. “Not all of us are talented enough to make something yummy out of something yucky, so no hard feelings when my cupcakes kick your cupcakes right out of the competition.”

Mel stepped in front of Angie, whose hands had come together in a strangling motion.

“Agreed, no hard feelings,” Mel said. She would maintain the truce they had worked out even if it cost her a bout of indigestion. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“I should,” Olivia said. “I have a lot riding on this.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asked. “We get paid no matter who wins.”

Mel watched as Olivia reached up and fiddled with a gray curl that had escaped her topknot.

“Well, since I have Destiny’s cupcakes in my portion of the competition, her father has offered me a free eye tuck if they win,” she said.

“What?” Mel asked.

“I know, so I really pulled out all the stops on my cupcakes,” Olivia said. “Sadly, I don’t know which ones are hers, but I glammed the heck out of all of them, so as long as they taste okay, I have a shot at some free nip and tuck.”

“He’s bribing you with plastic surgery?” Mel asked. “That has to be against the rules.”

“Are you going to tell on me?” Olivia asked.

“I should,” Mel said.

“No, you shouldn’t. Technically, it’s not a bribe,” Olivia argued. She plunked her hands on her hips and looked Mel up and down. “It’s a bonus if my cupcakes win. You’re just sore that you didn’t get the offer.”

“I am not,” Mel argued.

“Yes, you—” Olivia began to argue but Mel interrupted.

“Hey, there’s a photographer from the
Arizona Republic
. Probably, they’ll want your picture with the cupcakes.”

Olivia’s face lit up. Mel didn’t move until Olivia walked away to greet the media. Then she spun around and saw Angie, holding her hands out, looking like she wanted to choke Olivia.

“Are you crazy? That’s Marty’s—well, I was going to say ‘squeeze,’ but that seems bad form. She’s his something or other—you can’t strangle her.”

“But it would feel so good,” Angie protested. She grabbed Mel’s upper arms and shook her. Her voice took on a pleading tone. “Just one tight squeeze until her head turns bright red and she panics a little and then I swear I’ll let go.”

“Angie, get a grip. Okay, let me rephrase that,” Mel said. “No, absolutely no strangling.”

“Do you plan these menace-filled sentences just for my arrival?” a voice asked.

Mel turned to find Manny standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. He did not look happy.

“Awkward,” Angie said from behind Mel.

“And by strangling, I was referring to a frosting technique where we strangle the pastry bag,” Mel said. She mimed piping frosting with an invisible bag and elbowed Angie to do the same.

“See? All perfectly reasonable.”

Manny blew out a breath. He looked dubious at best, but he didn’t push it.

He looked her over and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” she said. “Well, aside from the exhaustion and throbbing leg.”

“Still no idea why anyone would lob a brick through your window?” he asked.

“Nope,” she said. “I mean it could be someone’s way of complaining about our cake-to-frosting ratio, but I take that very seriously and I really don’t think my ratio is brick-throwing worthy.”

A small smile played on Manny’s lips. “If you think of anything—”

“I’ll let you know,” she promised.

“Hey.” He cupped her chin in his hand and his eyes were serious when they met hers. “Be careful. Stan and I discovered that the sash used to kill Mariel had Lupe’s prints on it because she wore that one to a group photo shoot. The sashes were kept in the green room, so anyone had access to them. Whoever strangled Mariel is still at large and we have no idea what their agenda is.”

“Noted,” she said.

Mel watched him leave and turned back to help Angie unload the last of the cupcakes.

“So, that was nice,” Angie said. She gave Mel a sidelong glance and Mel knew she was trying to determine what the status of Mel and Manny’s relationship might be without actually asking.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Mel said. “He’ll make someone a fine husband someday.” Angie’s eyebrows rose up and Mel grinned. “And by ‘someone’ I do not mean me.”

Angie opened her mouth to fire questions at Mel, but Mel held up her hand.

“I need to go talk to Ji, the cosmetic consultant,” Mel said. “Olivia gave me an idea and I think Ji might have the answer. I promise I’ll be right back.”

She left before Angie could respond, but she heard Angie shout, “Fine!” Which, of course, meant it wasn’t.

Mel searched the first floor of the resort, looking for the petite Asian woman. There was no sign of her. She was making her third lap when Lydia the hotel manager stopped her.

“Can I help you find something?” she asked.

Mel paused. “I’m looking for Ji Lily.”

“The pageant’s beauty consultant,” Lydia said with a nod. “I just saw her going over someone’s foundation.”

“Remember where?” Mel asked.

“Follow me,” Lydia said. “I think they were in one of the break rooms.”

Mel fell into step beside the dark-haired beauty. She wondered how much Lydia knew about the investigation into Mariel’s murder.

“Pretty stressful event, huh?” Mel said.

Lydia shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that goes on in hotels. I thought the two o’clock in the morning drunken skinny-dippers were bad, but I’d take them over a murder any day.”

“So, have the police said anything about who they think might be involved?” Mel asked, hoping she sounded casual.

“Not to me,” she said. “But I know they were looking pretty hard at one of the contestants after she had a tiff with the judge over her score.”

“She’s innocent,” Mel said. Then she realized she sounded a bit strident and added, “Or so I heard.”

Lydia gave her a long look, and Mel smiled.

“Your cupcake boy has a relationship with that girl,” Lydia said.

“They’re friends,” Mel said. “Although they’re possibly more than that now that he’s noticed she’s a girl. How did you know?”

“It’s my job to watch people and anticipate what they need,” Lydia said. “They seem like good kids. If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it, as the resort can’t be perceived as being partial, but I’m hoping she wins.”

“Me, too,” Mel said.

Lydia led the way down a short hallway. She knocked gently and when a voice answered, she pushed open the door. Inside Ji was consulting with Sarah Hendricks, the unpleasant redheaded young woman Mel had tangled with before, and her mother.

“Lipstick for redheads—” Ji began but the girl interrupted her.

“Auburn, my hair is auburn. Surely, you should know the difference,” the girl snapped. Her nostrils were flaring.

Ji studied her for a moment. She reached into her cosmetic case and handed the girl a tube of lipstick. “I’d try this if I were you.”

The girl snatched the lipstick out of Ji’s hand and hurried over to a nearby mirror. She applied the bright red lipstick, pouting at herself in the mirror.

“Well, you finally got it right,” she said. She fluffed her hair and turned to face them.

“You like it?” Ji asked.

“It’s fabulous!” the girl declared. “So much better than that horrible nude color you were suggesting. Come, Mother, the cupcake testing is going to start soon.”

The girl sauntered past them without acknowledgment or even a thank-you for Ji. Her mother hurried behind her, sending them an apologetic smile.

Mel watched the door shut behind them, turned to Lydia and Ji, and said, “She is a horror.”

Ji and Lydia exchanged a glance, and Ji said, “You have no idea.”

“If you two will excuse me,” Lydia said. “I’d better get back.”

Mel waited until after Lydia had left before she spoke.

“Ji, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions,” Mel said.

Ji glanced at the slim watch on her wrist. “Only if you can walk and talk. I have two more contestants to consult with. My
redheaded
princess refused to meet in the green room with the others, so I’m on my way back there now.”

“I can do that,” Mel said.

Ji closed up her cosmetic suitcase and put it on the ground. A handle came out of the top of it and she dragged it behind her like a small carry-on.

They made their way out into the hallway and Ji asked, “Is this about Lupe? Is she worried about her makeup? She shouldn’t be. She’s nailed it with the more natural look. It really suits her.”

“No, it’s something else,” Mel said.

“Oh?” Ji glanced at her as they rounded the corner and entered another room.

“The other cupcake baker mentioned to me that Dr. Richards has offered her a free eye tuck if Destiny’s cupcakes win this afternoon’s competition.”

Ji stopped walking. “Really?”

Mel nodded. “And it got me to thinking that maybe he had made similar offers elsewhere.”

“You mean to me?” Ji asked. She frowned and Mel knew she had offended her.

“Actually, I was wondering if he had made the offer to Mariel,” Mel said.

“Because that would explain why Lupe’s score was so much lower than Destiny’s,” Ji said. She tapped her index finger against her lips as she pondered the possibility.

“Who would know for certain?” Mel asked.

“I would,” Anka said as she joined them. “When Mariel was chosen to be the head judge and I was not invited, she called me to gloat about how this was just the beginning. She was launching a nail polish line with Ji and she was going to get nipped and tucked into being a contender in the pageant circuit again.”

“Do you suppose that was her deal then?” Mel asked. “If she made sure Destiny won, then the good doctor would youthanize her?”

Ji and Anka both gave her startled looks.

“Sorry, I meant y-o-u-t-h-anize her, not the other, although—”

“Somebody did exactly that,” Anka said.

Mel studied the two women before her. There was no question that they both had a motive to want Mariel gone. Ji because if Mariel did owe her a large sum of money, then their business venture was in jeopardy of not being launched, and Anka because she was always second to Mariel, and if there was no Mariel . . .

“Stop looking at us like that,” Ji said.

“Like what?” Mel asked.

“Like we murdered Mariel,” Anka said. “We didn’t.”

“Really? Because it seems to me like you both had solid motives. Didn’t she owe you a lot of money for the nail polish line you two were working on?” Mel asked Ji.

Ji looked angry. “I don’t have to answer that, but since I’ve already told the police all of this I will. Yes, she paid half up front and she owed me the rest upon completion of the line. When I was almost done, I asked her for it and she said she was talking to her investor.”

“She had an investor?” Mel asked.

“Yes, which was why I went into business with her in the first place,” Ji said. “I figured with an investor and her connections in the pageant world, we were guaranteed at least a modest success, which would give me a stepping-off place to bigger and better things. Didn’t that gamble bite me on the butt?”

“Who was the investor?” Mel asked.

“I have no idea,” Ji said. “She never gave me a name and no one has come forward since she died.”

“How are you going to launch the line now?” Mel asked. “Won’t that be a huge hit for your company?”

“I have been fortunate enough to find a new investor,” Ji said.

There was something about the way they didn’t look at each other that made Mel get it immediately. She looked at Anka and said, “You’re the new investor.”

“So?” Anka asked. She put her hands on her hips and tossed her hair in a defiant gesture.

“So you don’t think it looks the least bit suspicious that Mariel’s longtime rival is taking over her business venture upon her death?” Mel asked.

“It was just good business,” Anka said. “Why should all of Ji’s hard work go to waste? Besides, we’re marketing some of the polishes as memorial items for Mariel.”

Mel stared at them.

“We didn’t kill her,” Anka said.

“We would have been arrested by now,” Ji said. “I was at work in my lab that night and have my assistant as a witness to put me there.”

“And I was at a party for the Barrett Jackson car auction with my husband, who can testify that I was with him the whole time,” Anka said. “We’re no more to blame for Mariel’s death than your little friend Lupe.”

“Fine,” Mel said. “Then who killed her? Another contestant who didn’t like their low score?”

“Maybe. Or perhaps it was another pageant insider? Do you think Richards made the same surgery offer to Cici?” Ji asked.

“No!” Anka shook her blond head. “Like me, she’s had about all the surgery her face can tolerate. Besides, it couldn’t have been her. She’s too tiny.”

“What about your thuggish cupcake boy?” Ji asked. “He looks like he could snap a person’s neck with his fingers.”

“Oz?” Mel asked. “No! He could never—”

“It could have been a crime of passion to defend his girlfriend,” Anka said.

Both Ji and Anka were staring at her and Mel could tell they were thinking that she was deluded.

“I’m telling you it wasn’t him,” Mel said.

The other two exchanged a look that said louder than words that they thought Oz was the most likely candidate to have killed Mariel. Mel felt a hot surge of temper erupt through her core like hot lava.

“If you slander him in any way . . .” Mel growled. She took a step toward Anka, who scuttled behind Ji. “I will make it my mission to bring down this pageant with my bare hands if I have to.”

“Mel, uh, Mel?” A voice called her name and Mel turned around to find Angie standing there, looking alarmed. “They’re going to start judging the cupcakes. We’re needed out front. And they’re looking for you, too, Anka.”

Mel glanced down at where her hands were clenched into fists. She shook her fingers loose and glanced at Ji and Anka.

“Okay, I think I made my point,” she said and turned on her heel and strode away from the room, with Angie hurrying to keep up with her.

Once in the hallway, Angie grabbed her arm, “Were you channeling me in there? What the hell was that?”