The Diva Frosts a Cupcake (13 page)

When I handed Nina the envelope containing the winner’s name, she seized my arm, and whispered, “I’m worried about Humphrey. Word around town is that Joy claims she was poisoned.”

“By a cupcake? One of Renee’s cupcakes?” What a nightmare. A couple hundred people had attended the cupcake feast. Would Humphrey know how many she’d sold at her booth?

“No, no. Where did Nick go? He was eating a cupcake . . . Nick!”

He must have heard her shout his name, because he loped toward us.

I wasn’t sure which of the general’s nephews was better looking. Nick might have been a few years younger than me, but the way women chased him, his age didn’t appear to matter to them. He had the same lush hair as Alex, as well as the dark masculine eyebrows. Alex held his shoulders squared and his chin high. He had a sense of humor but was clearly the more serious of the two. But Nick was a grown-up pretty boy with a smile that lit his face. No wonder Humphrey was jealous and wanted to be like him.

“Would you please tell Sophie about Joy?” asked Nina. Bernie, Mars, and Francie crowded around us.

“I hope Joy will be okay?” I asked.

“The doctors said she’ll probably be fine. It won’t be long before she’s released.”

“So what happened?” He didn’t seem very worried.

He gestured with his hands as he spoke. “They don’t know exactly. The doctors think she took some kind of recreational drug that induces hallucinations, but Joy insists that’s not the case. She thinks she was poisoned by something that stung her.”

Nina discreetly tugged me away, and whispered, “It had to be Renee. Unless she talked someone we know and love into doing the dirty deed for her.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dear Sophie,

My wife and I are arguing about the proper shape of a cupcake. I think it should have a round curve on top. She says it should be flat. There’s a batch of cupcakes riding on this. Who has to bake them?

—Rangers Fan in Round Top, New York

Dear Rangers Fan,

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to hide the top under frosting anyway. Bake the next batch together!

—Sophie

I couldn’t have been more stunned. “Please tell me that you don’t mean Humphrey?”

Nina had the decency to look like she felt guilty for suggesting such a thing. “Desperate people sometimes lose their sense of what’s right and wrong. I’m not being mean! Humphrey is an easy target. He wants to have a relationship with a woman more than anything in the world. There’s no telling what he might do to make Renee happy.”

I shivered at the thought. Not Humphrey! He’d creeped me out a few years ago when my mother invited him to Thanksgiving dinner without telling me. But I’d gotten to know and treasure him as a close friend. What Nina was suggesting was too far out of Humphrey’s value system. Even if he
was
desperate for a relationship, I couldn’t see him doing anything so vicious. He didn’t have it in him.

It didn’t escape me, though, that something horrible was happening to the women who had been associated with the original Sugar Baby cupcakery. The only one who hadn’t suffered physical harm was Renee. “In my wildest imagination, I cannot imagine Humphrey hurting anyone. But it can’t be a coincidence that Muffin was murdered, and now someone has apparently tried to injure Joy.” I sighed, hating that I was even thinking such a thing. “Sort of leaves Renee as the culprit, doesn’t it?”

“How are we going to get Humphrey out of her clutches?”

“You’re scaring me!” But she was right. “I’ve had this bad feeling about the way she was treating Humphrey from the beginning. Did you know that she’s staying with him?”

A squeal escaped Nina’s lips. The dogs and cats up for adoption looked in her direction. “This is far worse than I thought. If she has moved in, it’s too late to rescue Humphrey.”

“Stop that!” I scowled at her and lowered my voice so no one would hear. “Renee has always seemed very sweet. We don’t know that she’s a monster.”

“Not yet, we don’t. But I’d be willing to bet on it.”

A couple of people called to Nina. “
Ack!
I forgot all about announcing the winner. Look at all the cupcake bakers around the podium, waiting for the results. “Is it Joy? I hope it is. She could use some good news.”

“Humphrey said Joy cleaned out Sugar Baby’s bank account. I wonder what was going on there behind the scenes.”

Her mouth hanging open, Nina hurried to join the people waiting for her. Renee had shown up, but without Humphrey. Nick winked at Renee, but she turned a cold shoulder and said something to Spenser, who was also waiting for the results. He laughed, caught sight of me, and waved.

“I saw that.”

I looked over my shoulder. Spenser’s wife, Clarissa, had snuck up behind me.

“Maybe he was waving at you.”

“Oh, please. Don’t bother trying to fool me. Though I found it fascinating that you’ve managed to dupe Natasha. She thinks no man could possibly be interested in you.”

That was so typical of Natasha. What she’d said was insulting, but in this case, fortunate.

“I haven’t duped anyone. If Spenser is having an affair, it’s not with me. He seems like a nice guy. Why don’t you cut him some slack?”

“How stupid do you think I am? I followed him to your house on Friday.”

I wondered if she had also followed him to the hotel, but thought I’d better keep that to myself. I really didn’t want to be involved in their marital problems. If I said she must have seen him leave my house, too, then I would be admitting that he visited. At two in the morning, a clever retort would undoubtedly come to me. At the moment, all I wanted was to get away from her. No matter what I said, she wouldn’t believe me anyway. And then I said words I never in my life would have expected to hear from my own mouth. “Listen to Natasha.”

At that moment, Nina announced Spenser’s cupcakery, Cake My Day, as the winner. “You must be very proud.” I gave Daisy’s leash a little twitch and walked away, wishing I knew how to prove that I had no connection to Spenser.

It wasn’t until I was walking home that I remembered Mars was supposed to have Daisy for the rest of the week. I didn’t go back, though. He’d probably come by for her later.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning house and catching up on work. Mars never showed up. With all the commotion about Martha, they must have forgotten about Daisy. That was fine with me. After a long walk and a light dinner, we hit the sack early.

I tossed awhile, thinking about Humphrey and Renee. Was it possible that Muffin had changed her mind and decided to work for Joy? Was that why Renee had killed her? What kind of warped mind would think that way? People had killed for less, though. Had Renee made an attempt on Joy’s life, too?

I bolted upright in bed. Could it be that Joy had a history of drug abuse, and that was the reason the doctors thought Joy was doing recreational drugs? That would explain a lot of things. If Joy was using drugs, maybe Renee couldn’t deal with it, and that was the real reason behind their split. It would certainly explain why Joy drained Sugar Baby’s bank account. And maybe it
was
Joy who’d killed Muffin. After all, she was the one who had said she’d done something evil. I would have to make some discreet inquiries.

Feeling a little bit better about Humphrey’s relationship with Renee, I relaxed. Now, who was feeding the general fava beans?

“Sophie?” Humphrey’s voice was soft, almost timid. Not terribly surprising, since he’d had the nerve to call me at ten minutes past four in the morning.

I grunted and lay back on my pillow, calculating that I could sleep for another hour and fifty minutes before my alarm went off.

“I’m in jail!”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dear Natasha,

You display cupcakes so beautifully on your show. I have a cupcake stand, but it never matches the theme or colors of my parties. Is there a way to make my own?

—Cupcake Diva in Paris, Tennessee

Dear Cupcake Diva,

Make your own in any color and theme by using three sizes of cake boards and two equal-sized cake dummies. Cover the cake boards with heavy paper and glue ribbon on the edges. Cover the smaller cake dummies with ribbon and stack them between the cake boards. Voila! Your own personalized cupcake stand.

—Natasha

I jerked upright in my bed. “You’re where?”

Mochie jumped to his feet and looked around. Daisy ran to the window and barked. They must have picked up on the panic in my voice.

“Can you pick me up? I need somebody to bail me out.” I could hear hysteria in Humphrey’s voice, even though he was making perfect sense.

“Of course! I’ll be right there.” I started to hang up, then thought better of it. “Humphrey? Humphrey? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t talk. Don’t tell the cops anything.” I wanted to think it was a mistake. It
had
to be a misunderstanding. But Nina’s words hung in my head and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake them. Had he done something heinous to win Renee’s affections? The possibility frightened me. I wasn’t scared of Humphrey, I was scared
for
Humphrey.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and rushed to my closet. It would be nippy until the sun rose. I pulled on a pair of jeans with a lot of stretch in them, struggled to fasten the waist in spite of that, and slipped a dark green fleece top over my head. Not bothering with makeup, I clipped my hair up without stopping to brush it, and pounded down the stairs.

I let Daisy out in the backyard while I checked the computer.
Bail bondsmen!
I had never needed one of those before. Why wasn’t Alex an Old Town attorney already? He would know what to do.

Good grief, bail bonding must be a lucrative business, because there were dozens of them. I chose one based on its Old Town address. The male voice on the phone promised someone would meet me at the police station.

Daisy waited at the kitchen door to be let in. I told Mochie and Daisy to be good, grabbed my purse, and flew out to my garage. I drank in the cold night air, thrilled that I didn’t have to walk four blocks to my car now that I had a garage. I climbed into my hybrid SUV, backed out into the alley, and was on the deserted street in minutes.

Historic Old Town still slept as I cruised along Duke Street to the adult detention center. I parked in haste and ran inside.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Humphrey Brown?”

The female officer at the desk nodded knowingly. “He’s a bit agitated.”

I didn’t doubt it. He usually took crises calmly, but this was way out of his norm.

True to his word, the bail bondsman walked in seconds after I did. He clearly knew the drill and shifted into paperwork mode.

“What’s the charge?” I asked.

A door swung open, and Officer Wong walked in. “Sophie! Did you come for Humphrey?”

“How is he?”

It wasn’t polite of me. I should have asked how she was doing. Fortunately, she didn’t appear to mind. “He’s been better.”

“What happened?” I waited for the worst. Had they connected him or Renee to Muffin’s murder or Joy’s poisoning?

She tugged at her ear and grimaced like she wasn’t quite sure about something. “Grand larceny . . .”

“Of what? That has to be wrong!” I calmed down. “There’s a mistake.” There was simply no way Humphrey would steal anything. It was better than the murder charge I’d feared, though.

Wong wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I hope there’s something peculiar going on, otherwise our sweet nerd is actually one slick criminal. See if you can get the real story out of him. If he wasn’t involved in the burglary, they might drop the charges to possession of stolen goods.”

It was almost eight o’clock in the morning before I walked out the door with Humphrey, newly accused of burglary.

He climbed into the passenger seat of my car without a peep. But once he started talking, words streamed out of his mouth like a flood. “I’m so sorry, Sophie. I didn’t know what to do. I told them I was a friend of Wong’s, and I think that may have helped a bit. She suggested I call you.”

We were at a light, so I turned to face him. “Okay, suppose you tell me what you allegedly stole.”

“Thank you for saying
allegedly
, because I have never stolen a thing in my life. Well, there was the time Benton Monroe was in the locker-room shower, and I took his clothes.” Humphrey waggled his finger. “But that wasn’t theft, because I hung them neatly on a hanger and hooked it onto his locker. I never would have done it if he hadn’t been such a bully.”

The light changed and I focused on the street. I remembered Benton. He’d been a menace to everyone. I could imagine how he had probably tortured Humphrey. He deserved to have his clothes taken. “Did you relocate something this time?”

“No! To be honest, I’m still quite clueless about it all.” He sat quietly for a moment. “It seems there was a valuable cupcake in my car. I just can’t figure out how it got there. From their questions, I gather it was stolen in what must have been an alarming burglary.”

I had to bite my upper lip to keep from laughing. A cupcake? “Oh, Humphrey! Who would steal a cupcake? A little kid? How much could it have cost?”

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

I glanced over at him. “That must be some cupcake! How is that possible?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’ve been pondering that myself. The nature of the police questions led me to believe it’s studded with gemstones.”

“Could someone have put it in your car?”

“That seems rather obvious, doesn’t it?” He sounded testy. “How else would it have appeared there?”

Which led me to another question. “Let’s put that aside for the moment. How did the police know it was in your car?”

His eyes opened wide. “Good point! The police must be the ones who planted it on me!”

I thought that unlikely. Not out of the realm of possibility, but why would they pick on Humphrey? “Is anyone angry with you?” As soon as I asked, I thought of Clarissa’s ridiculous beef with me. Sometimes we had no idea that someone was upset with us.

“Maurice Lester doesn’t care for me.”

“Maurice? He doesn’t like anyone.” His name seemed to be popping up a lot. First, he stole Buddy because he didn’t like Spenser, and now he was trying to pin something on Humphrey?

“He’s jealous of me because of Myra. He resents the fact that she’s fond of me.”

“Are you saying that Maurice stole this valuable cupcake and planted it in your car to get rid of you because he’s in love with Myra?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him, but . . . no, as revolting as I find the man, I have no reason to believe he’s a thief.”

“How does Maurice make a living?”

“I don’t know. But he has way too much free time on his hands.” Humphrey’s head bowed forward, as though he couldn’t look at me. For the most fleeting of seconds, I wondered if he
had
stolen the cupcake. That couldn’t be the case. Not Humphrey.

He spoke in a small voice. “My life is over.”

I pulled up in front of his house. “Would you like me to come in for a while? Make you a cup of tea? You must be starving.”

His shoulders rolled forward. “How can I ever face anyone again?”

“Humphrey! Now stop that. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“They could suspend my funeral director’s license.”

“But you haven’t been convicted of anything.”

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Humphrey! Look at me!”

He turned his bowed head just enough for me to see misery etched on his face.

“Did you or did you not steal that cupcake?”

“No.” His tone quivered in that one word, so timid and simple that I had to reach over and hug him.

“Then you’ll be fine. I promise we’ll help you figure out what happened. The charges will be dropped, and everything will be okay. It’s probably all just a big misunderstanding.” At least I hoped so.

I couldn’t leave him alone in this condition. He was wearing a business suit. Summoning as much cheer as I could, I said, “Hop inside and change clothes. We have some sleuthing to do. Hurry!”

He blinked at me. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

I nodded vigorously. “Go on!”

He bounded from the car.

Much better.
I followed along behind him. Humphrey’s town house didn’t fall into the historic category, but the architect had done a great job of ensuring that it blended in with the neighborhood. Humphrey unlocked the front door, shouted, “Make yourself at home,” and took the stairs two at a time.

Humphrey’s house was spotless. The L-shaped kitchen counter gleamed. Stacks of Sugar Baby cupcake boxes were lined up like soldiers. Probably the leftover empty boxes from the booth. Beyond the kitchen, a combination dining area and living room stretched out to French doors flanked by windows. A tiny fenced patio lay beyond. Even the garden bordering the flagstone patio was tidy.

I perched on the sofa. Across from me, a wall of bookcases surrounded the fireplace. The titles reflected Humphrey’s diverse interests, from the classics to physics. A TV blocked a small portion of the bookcases.

Certainly not the home of a person in the habit of stealing expensive objects.

While he was upstairs, I phoned Nina and brought her up to date.

Humphrey returned, dressed in surprisingly snug jeans. It wasn’t like him to show off his bottom like some young stud. His navy blue Henley-style pullover did a good job of hiding his shape, and I realized with a start that his jeans were snug because of the weight he had put on.

He opened a drawer in a side table and removed an iPad. “I’m ready,” he announced.

I drove home and parked in my garage. Wordlessly we walked to my kitchen. When I opened the kitchen door, Nina and Francie shouted, “Humphrey!” so that it sounded like a cheer. Some of his anguish appeared to wash away as they fussed over him. While he told them what had happened, I dashed back to my den and checked over my schedule for the day. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t reschedule. It struck me as odd, though, that I had cupcake tastings down for a few organizations. Cupcakes were in high demand for functions. Humphrey came first, but sometime I would have to find out what was happening with Renee and Joy, because cupcakes had been requested by a couple of my clients for their dinners and receptions.

A few quick phone calls to move engagements, and I was back in the kitchen.

Proud as an eight-year-old, Nina said, “Look, we made coffee!” She poured me a mug, added milk and sugar, and held it out to me.

I sipped, prepared to gush over it, even if it tasted of salt. “This is good. Really good! Thanks.”

“Humphrey would like Ebelskivers after his ordeal in the slammer,” said Francie. “Do you think you could make some?”

“No problem.” I happened to be a fan of the tiny filled pancakes. I pulled eggs, fresh spinach, pork sausages, and blueberries out of the fridge.

Humphrey, Nina, and Francie tried to find mention of the gem-studded cupcake on Humphrey’s iPad. I was whisking eggs when I heard a collective exclamation. Carrying the bowl, I rushed over to look.

The cupcake in the photo would have been at home in a museum. The paper part on the bottom had been fashioned out of eighteen-karat gold. The jeweler who created it had lasered an intricate pattern of curlicues and hearts all the way around the gold and set it with diamonds. Smooth pink-enameled gold formed the frosting. Colorful gemstones had been artistically placed over the swirling icing to resemble sprinkles. It reportedly stood about two inches tall. According to the information, the top was hinged and opened to accommodate a tiny pendant version.

“
That
was in your car?” I asked. “It’s incredible. Where on earth did it come from?”

Humphrey scanned the iPad. “Spenser! It was stolen from his home during a burglary last year.”