“What did you say to her?” Dinah asked, taking a morsel of her banana cupcake with just the right amount of vanilla buttercream icing.
“The only thing I could, really. I said this one time I would go ahead with her idea, but I was still in charge of the event, which meant I make all of the arrangements.”
“How’d she take it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fifty-fifty. She was relieved I went along with it but not happy that she didn’t get to run the show. Then she wanted some kind of credit for getting a new member in the crochet group.”
“Who?” Dinah asked between bites.
“You really didn’t notice who joined?”
Dinah shook her head.
“Eduardo,” I said, watching her do a double take and then giggle. “That was my first impression, too. I thought he was joking, but he was completely serious. It turns out he already knows how to crochet. Go figure.”
He had charmed CeeCee and listened attentively as she explained our shawl project. He thought it was a great idea and took a copy of the pattern and started working on one. Within a few minutes Patricia was pitching him on joining the Benjamin Bradford bandwagon and coming to her book signing.
“You sure can’t judge a book by its cover,” Dinah said and I laughed. She thought I was laughing because she’d used a cliche.
“It’s true,” I said. “He is definitely more than just an extremely handsome face and well-built body.” I needed a sip of coffee to cut the sweetness of my minicake. “If you missed all that, you must have missed Pixie, too.”
“Pixie? Who’s Pixie?”
“Pixie Bullard, the bald man’s wife,” I said. “She was the short woman with the Princess Di hair who I was talking to in the cafe.”
Dinah shrugged with a blank expression.
I gave her a brief rundown on Pixie’s calling Bob a drink genius and her obsession with Princess Di. “She came to the crochet table to show me she’d found the book she wanted. She was practically standing next to you. I certainly envy your power of concentration.”
“I don’t,” Dinah said with a perturbed expression. “So, what happened then?”
“Once she saw CeeCee, she forgot about me.”
“Ms. Collins, it’s such an honor to meet you,” Pixie had said in a hushed tone. “I’ve been a fan since you did
CeeCee sat a little taller in her seat and her eyes sparkled as Pixie continued. “I’ve watched every episode. The show when the truck driver came by his aunt’s house and admitted that he was the one who’d broken all her heirloom china when he was a kid and then blamed it on the cat was really powerful.”
She started to mention another episode, but then she saw Eduardo and her eyes widened and her mouth opened.
“Is this a dream or what? You’re Captain Blackhart,” she said in a breathless voice. Being a gentleman, Eduardo stood and took her hand as he asked her name. With her free hand, she reached up and touched his chin. “The book cover didn’t do you justice.” She let out a raspy giggle. “It’s lucky my husband isn’t here. He was jealous when he saw me admiring the book cover. He’d be nuts if he saw me actually talking to you. I don’t know why he gets so jealous.”
When she heard Eduardo was going to have his own evening at the bookstore, she flashed a seductive smile and said she’d be sure to be there. Adele had glowered through the whole encounter.
When I got to the end of the story, Dinah had an amused smile. “And she wonders why her husband gets so jealous. It sounds like she was flirting with the book cover. I can’t believe I missed all that to grade some atrociously written freshman compositions. They’re starting to write papers in instant-message language. Things like
I smiled at my friend. “I saved the best for last. You won’t believe what Pixie said when I asked her about Arnold being at the Cottage Shoppe.”
Dinah leaned closer, and I repeated how she’d said he’d never been in the store. “I’m sure she was lying. She answered too quickly and with too much certainty,” I said. “I think she was trying to cover for him.”
“If she’s covering for him, it must mean . . .” Dinah’s voice trailed off.
“Right. It could mean she knows he killed Drew. But we have no proof or even a motive. Detective Heather doesn’t even believe he exists,” I said.
“We need to question her some more. Maybe we can do something out of your
Some activity outside the window caught my attention. “Whoa, what’s going on there?” A truck had pulled into the parking lot behind the Cottage Shoppe and was in the process of lowering a temporary storage container. A man came out of the back door, and as soon as the container was off the truck, he opened the door on it. When I glanced at the store building, I noticed a new banner had been placed on a window announcing the store was open during remodeling. And the Cottage Shoppe sign had a temporary addition underneath it that read “And Kevin’s Kitchen.”
“Kevin’s Kitchen is catchy,” Dinah said, following my gaze.
A man in work clothes came out of the back door carrying big pieces of what looked like plaster and threw it in a Dumpster.
“I don’t think the name being catchy is the point. It’s all the changes so soon after Drew’s death.” I thought back to when Charlie died. I had been stunned, out of focus and too numb to do anything beyond the basics. There is no way I could have been buzzing around the way Kevin was. “It gives you pause to think.”
The door opened on the cupcake shop and CeeCee came in. I could tell by her fluttering eyelids and smile that she was savoring the sweet smell of the place. She stopped in front of the display case and gazed at the rows and rows of cupcakes.
Before she had a chance to choose, Caitlin apparently recognized her. She pointed excitedly at a series of celebrity photos on the wall, and I gathered the shop owner wanted one of CeeCee.
It seemed like every restaurant, dry cleaners, office supply store and dog groomer had photos of their celebrity customers on the wall. Most were eight-by-ten publicity shots, but the most coveted were the personal ones—the ones taken with the owner. I nudged Dinah, and we watched CeeCee go into action as Caitlin’s assistant came out with a digital camera. CeeCee put her arms around Caitlin as though they were best friends. CeeCee was a pro and posed to show off her best side. When they finished, Caitlin offered CeeCee a complimentary cupcake. Before the peanut butter delight was even on the plate, the assistant had returned with a print of the photo.
It still amazed me. “Remember the old days when you had to take film in?” I said.
Dinah nodded in agreement. “And the things you can do on a computer, like take the red eyes out or make a color photo look like an old-fashioned one. You can erase wrinkles, gray hair, even the ten pounds the camera puts on.”
CeeCee looked over the picture and shook her head; I think she was hoping for some of that erasing. But in the end Caitlin slipped it into a frame and hung it on the wall. When CeeCee saw us, she brought her cupcake over and sat down.
“Next time I just bring in my own publicity shot,” CeeCee said, looking dismayed. “I know how to present my best side, but when the photographer isn’t a professional . . .” She gave us a knowing nod. She glanced down at her cupcake, which had a happy face made out of peanuts on the maple buttercream frosting. “I’m going with your portion idea,” she said to Dinah before cutting off a piece and spearing it with her fork. Then she smiled at the taste of the cupcake and pronounced it delicious.
“If you think that’s good, you’d love Molly’s special cupcakes,” Dinah said.
“Dear, you make cupcakes? If they’re anything like your other bake goods, they must be fabulous.”
I smiled modestly, even though I had to admit the cupcakes Dinah was talking about were great. CeeCee ate another piece of cake, wiped her mouth demurely and went back to talking about my baking.
“I just remembered. Weren’t you going to come over so I could show you how to do thread crochet? And didn’t you mention something about bringing over some goodies? Maybe it could be those cupcakes.” She had a
