“Like this?” Mel asked, mimicking his hand gesture. “What do you mean? Concerned? Wary? Invested? What?”
“That, all of that,” Joyce said. “We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure ourselves because we didn’t want you to get overwrought by it.”
“Overwrought? I am not overwrought.”
“Not to be argumentative, boss,” Oz said, “but you are yelling, which makes it appear that you are a tad high-strung about the situation.”
“You hush, too,” Mel said. She turned back to her mother. “Were you ever planning on telling me?”
“Of course we were. Don’t be like that,” Joyce said.
“Like what?” Mel demanded. “Angry that I’ve been left out? Of course I’m angry.”
The word lingered in the air and Mel and Oz gasped at the same time and turned to face each other.
“See? It’s true. Being left out does make a person angry,” he said. “You need to tell him.”
“You’re right.” Mel waved her hand between Uncle Stan and her mom and said, “This, whatever this is, is fine. Well, mostly it’s fine. We’ll talk about it later. But right now, Oz and I think we’ve made a break in the case.”
Uncle Stan narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “And how did that come about?”
“By doing our jobs and delivering cupcakes,” Mel said. “Hear me out.”
She went on to explain about Tina and Miranda and the big scene at the birthday party. Uncle Stan listened, but with a little wrinkle in between his eyes as he tried to figure out how a sixteen-year-old’s birthday party had anything to do with his investigation.
“I’m not following,” he said when she finished. “Do you think this Tina or Miranda or whoever had something to do with it?”
“No,” Mel said. “They’re just the ones who made me realize how being ignored could cause a person to be filled with rage just as much as being maligned could.”
“Enraged enough to kill four people?” Uncle Stan asked.
Mel shrugged. “It’s a theory.”
“I think it’s a pretty good one,” Joyce said.
“So, now I do what?” Uncle Stan asked. “Cross-check residents of the Palms against people who are not in the book?”
“Exactly!” Mel said. “I think the killer is someone who is angry about the book not because they were in it, but because they weren’t.”
Twenty-two
Uncle Stan conceded that it was a solid angle to work the case from. He offered to stay and talk if Mel felt that was needed, but she waved him off and told him to go back to work.
On his way out the door, Uncle Stan paused to give her one of his crusher hugs.
“So, we’re okay?” he asked.
“That depends,” Mel said. “Did Joe know?”
“He might have walked in on your mom and me,” Uncle Stan said.
Mel’s eyes bugged.
“Just hugging and stuff!” Uncle Stan said as his face turned a deep shade of red. “And I asked him to keep it to himself for now.”
“Then you and I are good,” Mel said. “But Joe is in for an earful.”
“How about me?” Joyce asked. “Am I in trouble?”
“Nope.” Mel shook her head. “You, I’m happy for.”
Joyce hugged her close and Mel heard Uncle Stan give a relieved chuckle as he headed out the door. As soon as it shut, Mel leaned back and gave her mother a minor blast of stink eye.
“But just so you know, you could have told me,” she said.
“I know,” Joyce said. “I do. But I didn’t want to take away from Angie’s wedding, and then that horrible stabbing with Elise happened. It just didn’t feel like the right time.”
“Fair enough,” Mel said.
“Can we have coffee now?” Oz asked. “I’m dying.”
“Yes, and I have fresh-made date nut bread, too,” Joyce said.
Oz spun back around and bent down to kiss Joyce’s cheek. “And that’s why I love you, Mrs. Cooper.”
Mel and Joyce laughed as he strode ahead of them into the kitchen.
“Hey, if you marry Uncle Stan, you don’t even have to change your name,” Mel said.
“Easy, tiger, we’re just dating.” Joyce laughed and wrapped her arm around Mel’s waist and hugged her close. “All joking aside, are you sure you’re okay with it?”
Mel thought about the ten-plus years since her father had been gone. Who had stepped in to fill his spot? Who had looked out for Mel, Charlie, and Joyce? Uncle Stan. Not only was she okay with it, it seemed positively perfect.
“More than okay,” she said. She hugged her mom back. “I think it’s the best news ever.”
• • •
Mel and Oz arrived back at the bakery to find Marty had it all under control. Mel retreated to her office to plan some of her specialty orders while Oz took over the kitchen to get to work on the cupcake of the day for tomorrow.
A copy of The Palms was sitting on Mel’s desk. She stared at the retro cover, thinking how horrible it was that the written word had contributed to the deaths of four people. Whatever the motivation of the killer, anger for being in the book or not, it shouldn’t have ended this way for Blaise or Elise or the driver or caterer.
She wondered if she should call Cassie and tell her the theory she’d told Uncle Stan. She knew Cassie was staying away from the shop, but if she was like Mel and thought it was only people who were angry about being in the book that she had to look out for she might let her guard down in front of someone she shouldn’t.
Mel took her phone out of her purse and called Cassie’s cell. There was no answer. Huh. She ended the call and decided to call the store directly.
The phone rang eight times and then rolled over to voicemail. Mel glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon on a weekday. The bookstore should be open. Maybe whoever was working the front counter was busy helping
