On the chance that Cassie was a target, Officer Hayley Clark was redirected from watching over Oz to shadowing Cassie. Because Officer Clark was already at the bakery, the group decided to stop by the bakery for some restorative cupcakes while delivering Officer Clark her new assignment.
Mel wanted to check on Oz. She’d felt bad sticking him with the bakery all evening while he was trying to gear up to make Angie and Tate’s wedding cupcakes. He was an amazing chef but he was still pretty young, barely out of culinary school, and she knew he’d been putting a lot of pressure on himself to make Angie and Tate’s cupcake tower perfect.
The bakery was closed but Oz, Marty, and Officer Clark were sitting in the kitchen when Mel, Joe, and Cassie entered through the back door. Oz had an amazing aqua-colored fondant rolled out in front of him on the worktable and he was shaping delicate leaves out of it for use on the wedding cupcakes.
Officer Clark jumped up from her seat and checked the door behind them. She was clearly looking to see if they’d been followed. Mel felt like telling her that they were fine but she suspected the intense young woman would check the alley anyway.
Marty took one look at their faces and disappeared into the walk-in cooler, while Oz dropped the knife he’d been using on the fondant and went to brew a pot of coffee.
While Mel and the others took seats at the table, the back door unlocked and Tate, Angie, and Ray came in. Officer Clark went to close and lock the door, but was stopped by a foot being wedged inside.
“Hold up,” the person on the other side said. “It’s Tony and Al. We’re here to check on Angie.”
Officer Clark glanced back at Angie. She came forward and peered out the window. She turned to the officer and said, “It’s my brothers. They’re okay.”
“Big family you have,” Officer Clark said. She sounded put out. “I’m going to walk the perimeter of the building. Lock the door after me. I’ll knock four times when I need you to let me back in.”
She ducked out, closing the door quietly behind her. Oz watched her from his spot by the coffeepot. He shook his head and Mel caught his eye when she rose from her seat and locked the door.
“Problem?” she asked.
“She’s just a bit high-strung,” he said. “Now that she’s off my case, it’s all good.”
“How is the author Pennywise?” Marty asked as he came back with a tray loaded down with a variety of cupcakes.
“Penworthy, Elise Penworthy. Last we heard she was stable,” Mel said. Cassie’s face looked pinched at this description and Mel patted her arm. “She’s going to be all right.”
“Does she have any family?” Oz asked. “Is there anyone who would want to be there for her?”
“Just me,” Cassie said. “After her divorce she was pretty much banished from the community, which is why she wrote the tell-all fictionalized account of the neighborhood. She has no family, and as far as I know, I’m her only friend, but the police made it very clear that I shouldn’t be there since . . . I . . . I’m . . .”
“You’re a suspect,” Marty said.
“Yeah.” Cassie’s shoulders slumped.
“It’s all right,” Mel said. She gave everyone a pointed look. “Elise is in excellent care. If there is any news, Uncle Stan will call us immediately.”
Cassie swallowed, visibly pushing down the sobs that were threatening. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I just feel so helpless.”
“Wait,” Marty said. “Maybe it’s because I’m older than dirt, and I spend a lot of time thinking about what will happen when I die, but I have to ask. If this Elise has no family, who is going to get the rights to her book, the royalties and all of that, if she dies?”
“Um . . . well, me,” Cassie said.
Mel turned from Marty to Cassie as if in slow motion. She could not have just said that, could she? On what crazy planet did a bookstore owner get the rights to an author’s book?
Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Cassie nodded and said, “It’s weird, I know.”
“You think?” Angie asked. “Because I’m guessing if Uncle Stan knew this, you would be sitting in a different place entirely right now.”
“I told Steve, and he said it wasn’t a problem,” Cassie said, rejecting the suggestion.
Joe frowned. “That was rather confident of him. I have to tell you, from a prosecutor’s perspective that gives you motive, and you already had means and opportunity.”
“Cassie, he’s right,” Mel said.
“But it makes no sense,” Cassie protested. “Why would I harm the very person I was helping to be successful? And the vendors? Why would I hurt the people I hired to work the book signing? They were people I relied upon and did business with for years. How can you believe that of me?”
“I’m not saying I believe it,” Mel said. “I’m saying”—she paused to gesture to Joe—“others might see it as a reason for you to commit murder.”
Cassie looked at Joe with wide eyes. He studied her for a moment and then shook his head. “No, you’re right. It makes no sense. If you wanted ownership of the book, why kill the others when you could just murder the author?”
“Exactly!” Cassie said.
“Unless it was to cover up the murder of the author by throwing suspicion onto someone else,” Marty said.
All eyes went back to Cassie and she dropped her head into her hands.
“This is a nightmare.”
Mel took a cinnamon cupcake and put it in front of her, knowing it was Cassie’s favorite flavor. Cassie made no move to eat it.
The rest of the group, comfort eaters like Mel, needed no encouragement. Everyone reached for their cupcake
