The Cakes of Wrath (21 page)

I adjusted my umbrella and walked quickly through the rain, reaching Second Chances just as the wind picked up again. Leaving my umbrella on the porch, I found Isaiah at the register, an open book on the glass counter in front of him.

He looked up as I entered and offered a friendly smile. “Hey, Miss Rita. What are you doing out in this weather?”

My jeans were wet to below my knees and my shoes were soaked through. I wanted to rush home and change into clean, dry clothes, but I didn't want to just start asking questions, especially if Gabriel was right about Isaiah trying to protect his brother. “I'm looking for a baby shower present,” I said, using the same excuse I'd used last time I was here. “I'd like to get my friend a crib and maybe a changing table. Do you know if you have anything like that here?”

Isaiah tilted his head while he thought. “Crib? Yeah. Maybe.” He stood and stretched his arms high over his head. “You want me to go check?”

“Why don't I go with you?” I suggested, thinking that would save us both time. “You can show me where to look.”

A clap of thunder shook the building, and Isaiah's eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want.” He came out from behind the counter and motioned for me to follow him.

I did, and tried to start a conversation while we maneuvered through the narrow aisles filled with junk. Aunt Yolanda would have loved shopping here. Me? Not so much.

“You're in school, right?” I asked as we passed a stack of mismatched towels.

“Yes ma'am. I'm going to Delgado.”

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged and glanced back at me. “Yeah, I guess. It's better than nothing.”

I grinned at his ringing endorsement. “What are you studying?”

He started up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor. “I'm going into cybersecurity. That's my plan anyway. We'll see what happens. I'm taking a course on hacking right now. It's pretty interesting stuff.”

I climbed the stairs behind him and stepped onto the second floor landing behind him. “I'll bet it is. Are they teaching you how to hack or just teaching you how to combat it?”

“A little bit of both. Gotta know how to do it if you want to stop it.” He gestured toward the first of three former bedrooms that overlooked the backyard. “I think there's a crib in there, but Mama may have moved it.” He turned to go. “If you need anything, just yell.”

I assured him I would. I glanced out the nearest window and spotted a few motorcycles scattered around an otherwise empty yard, a Dumpster filled with trash, and a door leading into the back of a building. “Is that the Chopper Shop?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious.

Isaiah craned to see what I was looking at and nodded. “Yeah, that's it. I heard that Destiny was murdered. That's messed up.”

“Yeah, it is. You've got a good view. It's too bad you weren't here that morning. You probably could have seen who did it.”

A frown tugged at Isaiah's lips. “Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe I'd have been killed right along with her.”

That was a possibility, too. “What time did you get here that morning?”

“I don't know. Around ten, I guess. The police were over there when we drove up. I don't even know what Destiny was doing here at that time of the morning.”

“Moose told me that he and Scotty were out late the night before. She offered to open the shop so they could sleep in,” I said.

“You're the one who found her, right? What were
you
doing there so early?”

I hadn't expected him to turn the tables on me. I didn't want to admit that I'd come by to confront Destiny over the theft of my pills, so I went with an answer I hoped wouldn't make me look guilty. “I stopped by to thank Moose for pushing me out of the way of the van. But of course, he wasn't there. I got there a little around nine. She could have been dead a couple of hours before I found her. It's disconcerting to think that someone who works around here might be the one who killed her.”

Isaiah nodded slowly. “Yes ma'am, it is. You think the police are ever going to find who did it?”

I tried to get a good look at his face without appearing to look at him at all. Was he asking because he was worried about himself or someone he loved? Or was he just curious? Unfortunately, he'd turned his back and was walking toward the stairs.

“I don't know,” I said. “I'm not sure they're really looking.” And then, because the possibility that I might take the fall for Destiny's murder made me a little sick, I changed the subject. “Did you ever find out who stole your van?”

Isaiah paused at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing. “Not yet. But that's not surprising. I don't think the police are really looking for the thief either.” He looked around at the jumble of merchandise surrounding us. “I should get back downstairs. Are you sure you're all right to look around up here on your own?”

I wasn't ready for our conversation to be over, but I couldn't think of a way to prolong it. “I'll be fine,” I assured him. “Don't worry about me.”

He hurried down the stairs, and as his footsteps receded, I got busy pretending to shop for a crib. I moved slowly through the rooms, passing racks of children's clothing and tripping over the handle of a wagon that held a wide assortment of old baby dolls. I briefly considered a video baby monitor system until I realized it was missing one of its electrical plugs.

Tiny puffs of cool air reached me now and then from a slow-moving ceiling fan, but the August heat and the humidity from the storm made sweat pool under my arms and trickle down my back even while I shivered from the chill of the wet clothes. I heard the door open and close downstairs a few times, and the low murmur of voices reached me. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I could tell that someone else—a woman—had come into the store.

Lightning flashed every few minutes, and the overhead lights flickered. I dashed away perspiration from my forehead with my sleeve and moved across the hall into the second bedroom. At that exact moment, the lights blinked out and a cry of alarm from downstairs brought me around on my toes.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I was tempted to cry out myself. It was so dark on the second floor of that old house I just knew I wouldn't have been able to see my hand in front of my face. Not that I checked. I was far more concerned about getting out of that crowded room without breaking my neck.

Raindrops hit the side of the house and beat a rapid rhythm on the windows. I could hear voices coming from downstairs, which made me feel a little better. At least I wasn't alone. Boards creaked as the old house took another hit from the wind. And then I heard a sound that made my blood freeze in my veins.

Footsteps, low, steady, and ominous, moved toward the stairs. I waited for somebody to say something, reasoning that if I'd been coming to help, I would have called out reassurance of some kind. But nothing broke the eerie silence except the scuff of shoes on the floor. When the sound shifted as someone began to climb the steps, fear dried my mouth so completely I couldn't even make a sound.

I was alone and defenseless just a few feet from where Destiny had been killed. I might be alone and in the dark with the person who had killed her. Until this moment, Isaiah had been at the bottom of my suspect list, but had I been too trusting?

Suddenly frantic, I felt around for someplace to hide, but in the dark, I only succeeded in knocking over a display of some kind. I listened in dismay as the footsteps paused and readjusted, realizing that I'd just revealed my location.

Lightning lit up the sky again, and I saw a shadow move in front of the open door. It stopped moving and turned slowly toward me. By some miracle, I found my voice and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

A beam of light hit my face and I recognized Isaiah at the other end of the flashlight. He looked worried, not homicidal. And instead of the diabolical laugh of a homicidal maniac I heard him say, “Miss Rita? Are you all right? I came to get you.”

A wave of relief hit me, followed immediately by embarrassment. “I'm fine,” I said, suddenly grateful for the dark so he couldn't see the humiliation on my face. “Thanks. You startled me.”

“Yeah.” He looked at the pile of old board games I'd knocked over. “I guess so. You want me to help you to the door?”

“No. Thanks,” I said, waving away the offer. “I can make it. Just don't move the light.” And as I picked my way over the mess and through the secondhand merchandise, I realized that maybe I'd gone a little overboard. It had been nearly a week since I looked up and spotted those headlights coming at me, and I was no closer to figuring out who'd been driving the van than I was that very first night. I'd been trying for days to clear my name with Detective Winslow, but I still had no idea who'd killed Destiny and left me to take the blame. In fact, the only thing I'd succeeded at all week was working myself into an irrational panic.

Much as I hated to admit it, maybe it was time to take a step back. Maybe it was time to get back to normal.

I spent all day Monday trying to concentrate on work and doing a pretty good job of it. I conducted the staff meeting in the morning and put together a schedule that I thought made the best of everyone's talents. That afternoon, I crumb-coated a four-tier wedding cake, created a dozen gum paste calla lilies in assorted sizes, and ran interference between Edie and Sparkle a handful of times. I'd even managed to keep Pearl Lee on task putting labels on boxes for two whole hours—which I'm pretty sure was a world record.

I was proud of myself, not just for what I'd accomplished, but because I'd refused to let thoughts of the murder investigation distract me. Much. But as I heard another argument between Sparkle and Edie begin to escalate on the other side of the design room, I started to think maybe “normal” was overrated.

“You told the Beekmans
what
?”
Sparkle said in a loud voice. “Are you insane?”

“Yes,” Edie shot back sarcastically. “Yes, I am. Thanks for asking.” She sighed so heavily I could hear it from where I stood. “Come on, Sparkle. It's a tiny little change. What's the big deal?”

I looked up from piping the fifth of ten buttercream leaves for the wedding cake and groaned aloud at the sight of my two employees squaring off again. Six arguments in as many hours, and all over things neither one of them would consider an issue if they hadn't already been irritated with each other.

I was learning that there's a fine line to walk between being too hands-on as a manager and not being involved enough. Unfortunately, that line wasn't always easy to spot. I looked on, waiting to see if they would work it out or take it to the next level. I wasn't their mother, and I refused to get in the middle of every little squabble—but I also didn't want their disagreements to have a negative impact on the rest of the staff.

“It's no big deal to you,” Sparkle said with a sneer. “You're not the one who has to repaint half a cake.”

“It's not half,” Edie said. “It's one tiny part. The customers changed their minds.” She tossed the invoice onto Sparkle's table. “What did you want me to tell them? ‘Sorry, no can do. Sparkle will blow a gasket'?”

Sparkle brushed the invoice aside roughly. “Do you
mind
? I'm working here.” Her voice dropped, making it hard for me to hear what she said next.

Edie had no trouble at all. She shoved her face into Sparkle's personal space. “What's
that
supposed to mean?”

Sparkle turned to reach for something, saw me watching, and checked herself. “Nothing. It doesn't mean a thing.”

That was probably as close to an apology as Edie was likely to get, but she didn't see it that way. “Like I believe
that
. You just won't let it go, will you? You think you're so much smarter than me? You think you have the right to tell me what to do—”

“I offered you one piece of advice,” Sparkle said with a wave of a hand. “And it was a good one, too. But you don't care. Forget about what the baby needs. Don't worry about what kind of life it's going to have. Let's just make sure we don't inconvenience Edie.”

“This is
my
baby,” she said. “How I decide to raise it is none of your business.”

“It's a baby, not a possession,” Sparkle growled. “You don't own it.”

“I never said I thought I owned it,” Edie said through clenched teeth.

Sparkle was having a little more trouble remaining unemotional. “Then give the poor thing a chance, why don't you? Give the baby's dad a chance. Do you even know how it feels to wonder where you came from?”

Edie threw up both hands and turned away. “I give up. You're certifiable. You really are. Just stay away from me from now on, okay? If you feel the need to fix something, and obviously you do, take care of your own damn life. Leave mine alone.”

I put down the piping bag and wiped my hands on a towel. Things had gone too far, and I had to intervene. “Hey, you two,” I said in what I hoped was a friendly but firm tone. “That's enough. Leave each other alone.”

Sparkle looked like a panther ready to spring. “I wish I
could
leave her alone, but I have to work with her. We all do. And lately everybody knows that's not so easy.”

“We
work
together,” Edie said. “That doesn't make it okay for any of you to offer opinions about my private life.”

Sparkle threw up her hands and gave us all a wide-eyed look, made all the more dramatic considering how heavily she caked on the black eyeliner. “I'm just trying to help.”

“I don't want your help,” Edie shot back. “Why can't you understand that?”

I took a few steps toward them. “Look, this is getting out of hand. You do need to work together, so put aside your personal differences and focus on the job.”

Sparkle gave me a mutinous look and turned at the same moment Edie took a step away. She ran straight into Sparkle, who lost her balance and brushed against a tray of buttercream roses Isabeau had finished only minutes earlier.

The tray teetered precariously and would have fallen if Sparkle hadn't caught it. “Watch what you're doing, would ya?”

Fire sparked in Edie's eyes. “Oh! So now
that
was my fault,
too
?”

Sparkle held up both hands and looked around at the rest of us. “I didn't see anybody else trying to push me over.”

“Sparkle,” I said, raising my voice to make sure she heard me, “I need to see you now, please.”

Edie shot her a triumphant smile and headed back toward the front of the house. Sparkle put her hands into the pockets of her black hoodie and slouched toward me. Everyone else suddenly got real busy pretending to work.

“I know what you're going to say,” Sparkle said with a resentful look at Edie as she disappeared through the door. “You don't have to actually say it.”

I sat on a stool and motioned for her to do the same. “Good, because I don't really want to.” I grinned and waited until she curled one corner of her lip in response. “Look, I understand this whole baby thing is a big deal to you,” I said. “I even understand
why
it's such a big deal. But it's starting to affect what we do around here. The two of you almost ruined a whole day of Isabeau's work.”

“Almost,” Sparkle clarified with a sharp glance. “I caught the tray before it fell.”

I sighed and lowered my voice to make sure the others couldn't overhear us. “Yeah. Thank goodness. But what's next? Seriously, Sparkle. It really is getting out of hand.”

She looked like she wanted to argue with me, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“I can't tell you what to do away from work. If you really want to bug Edie about her choices on your own time, I can't stop you. But you're not making any headway, so what's the point? In fact, you're probably just making her more determined to do it her way.”

Sparkle chewed the corner of her lip and kicked the heel of her black leather lace-up boot against the stool. “She's not thinking about the baby.”

“Of course she is. She's just not thinking the way you want her to, and she never will if you keep pushing. You know how Edie is.”

Sparkle didn't say anything for a full minute, and I thought she might have actually heard me. But she's as hardheaded and stubborn as Edie is, which is why we were having these issues in the first place. And her next words made it clear she wasn't backing down at all. “If Edie won't listen to me, she might listen to the baby's father. You should go talk to him and tell him what she's doing.”

I let out a brittle laugh. “Even if I knew who he was,” I said, “my answer would be no.”

“He has the right to know.”

“But it's not my place to tell him. I'm
not
getting involved. Period. End of story.”

“So you're just going to sit back and let Edie screw the kid up?” Sparkle's voice echoed off the walls of the design room and I think everyone in the room stopped working again and looked over at us.

I lowered my own voice even further. “You don't know that's what she's doing. I know you have issues about the way your mother raised you, but you can't just assume that Edie's situation will work out the same way.”

Sparkle rolled her eyes and stood. “You can't assume that it won't.”

“You're completely missing the point,” I said. I may have added an eye roll of my own. “It's
none of our business
. It doesn't matter if you're right or wrong. It's not your call. Or mine. Just let Edie figure it out, okay? You worry about your own stuff, I'll worry about mine, let Edie worry about hers. Everybody will be happy.” Yeah, right. But as fantasies go, I thought it was a pretty good one.

Sparkle suddenly became fascinated with the sleeves of her hoodie. “I heard from my brother a couple of days ago,” she said after she pushed one sleeve up and adjusted it until she was satisfied. Her voice sounded kind of dreamy and faraway, as if she was thinking something through as she spoke. “I wrote to him after you and I talked. I wanted to see if River remembered it all differently, you know? I thought maybe I was off base. But I'm not, Rita. He wrote back and he agrees with me.”

“Even so . . .” I said.

She tilted her head and looked at me from the corner of her eye. “He's coming here next week. It's his birthday, and he's going to see Liberty and Bob. Don't ask me why. Anyway, he's going to stop and see me for a couple of days. Maybe I'll ask him to talk to Edie.”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” I said. “No. Wait. I know it's not.”

“But he's a guy. He knows how they think.”

“That's not exactly a compelling argument.” I cast about for a new way to tell her to back off—one that wouldn't send her off into a creative funk—but nothing came to mind.

And maybe I could have figured out a way to get through to her, but a loud scream tore through the air and got everyone in the design room racing toward Edie's desk. Ox made it through the door first, with Dwight right behind him. Estelle and I hit the door at the same time and engaged in a brief skirmish over which one of us would get through next.

She won by a hip.

Isabeau and Sparkle raced in behind me, and Pearl Lee brought up the rear. I barely heard Edie over the chaos. She said something about a crash, or maybe it was broken glass, in the employee break room. In any event, we were off again with the whole herd thundering toward that room.

This time I managed to skim through the door a hair in front of Estelle, which may not have been the smartest move. I felt a
whoosh
of hot air coming in through the broken window a second before Estelle plowed into my back.

I stumbled a little, almost fell over one of the tables, and grabbed the back of a chair to hold myself upright. “What happened?”

Ox gestured toward something on the floor, the crowd parted, and I saw a large rock surrounded by shards of glass. “What? How did that—”

“Somebody chucked that rock through the window,” Dwight said. “Probably kids.”

“But why would anybody do that?” Isabeau asked, pushing past Sparkle and Estelle to stand beside me.

“I'll bet whoever it is, is still out there,” Edie cried, shaking a finger in the general direction of the front door. “I'll bet we could catch them if somebody moves fast enough.”

Ox accepted the challenge and the rest of us followed like lemmings. Dwight and Ox seemed prepared to kick some ass. I was busy calculating how much it would take to repair the window and what a claim for damages might do to our insurance premium. I rushed out onto the front porch just as Dwight and Ox took off after a group of laughing teenagers wearing baggy pants and sweatshirts at the other end of the block.

“Don't hurt anybody,” I shouted after them.

Isabeau put a hand on my shoulder and tried to reassure me. “It's okay. Ox knows what he's doing.”

“I hope they catch the little creeps,” Estelle mumbled, and turned toward the door. “I'm going back inside. It's too hot out here.”

Edie followed her and Sparkle trailed them slowly. I was all set to go with them until I saw someone else hurrying away from Zydeco. He was wearing a bright yellow Hawaiian print shirt and khaki shorts, and he cast a furtive look over his shoulder before slipping into a building about a block away. Suddenly I had the uneasy feeling that Dwight and Ox were chasing the wrong culprits.

“Don't hurt anybody,” I shouted again and raced down the stairs to follow them. I just hoped that I could catch up with them before they did something stupid.