Caramel Pretzel Killer Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CARAMEL PRETZEL KILLER

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Caramel

  Pretzel

  KILLER

  Cupcakes in Paradise

  Book 4

  By

  Summer Prescott

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder

  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on—reader feedback is very important to me. My contact information, along with some other helpful links, is listed below. If you’d like to be on my list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc.… just shoot me an email and let me know. Thanks for reading!

  Also…

  … if you’re looking for more great reads, I am proud to announce that Summer Prescott Books publishes several popular series by Cozy author Patti Benning, as well as Carolyn Q. Hunter, Blair Merrin, Susie Gayle and more! Check out my book catalog

  http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for their delicious stories.

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  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  * * *

  One thing that I’ve found in the course of writing nearly one hundred books, is that it takes a village to make a really good book. From the beta readers to the editors, to the proofreaders and beyond, a tremendous amount of tender, loving, care goes into each and every SPBP book. This book was no exception, and I’d like to thank the following awesome, amazing readers for contributing to the inspiration of this book.

  The idea for Kel’s new Art Gallery Manager was a precious gift from Danielle Anderson. The delicious suggestion for the title cupcake was provided by Carrie Lynn Cantwell, and the amazing orange chocolate cupcake, which is an integral part of the murder (no spoilers here, lol), was suggested by Stacy Riley.

  It’s such a wonderful privilege to be able to do what I love and network with my wonderfully creative and supportive readers – you guys and gals are the best!!! Thank you so much Danielle, Carrie Lynn and Stacy – I literally couldn’t have done it without you!

  Caramel Pretzel

  KILLER

  Cupcakes in Paradise Book 4

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Melissa Gladstone-Beckett surveyed her day’s to-do list, which she’d clipped to the edge of a shelf that held baking supplies, and sighed aloud.

  “I could clone myself and still not be on schedule,” she murmured, shaking her head.

  “Are you talking to yourself in here?” Her best friend, flame-haired Echo Kellerman breezed into the small commercial kitchen in the back of Missy’s cupcake shop, her baby Jasmine slumbering in a front pack.

  “Not anymore,” Missy grinned. “Can you start the coffee? I’m elbows deep in an order for the Middle School rally, and I have no idea how I’m going to get it delivered and stock the cases for today.” She bit her lip, pouring flour into a mixer.

  “I’d stay and help if I could, but I’ve got inventory coming in at the bookstore, and I have to change the summer stock over to the fall stock at the candle shop. Gotta replace Caribbean Breeze and Fruit Medley with Caramel Pecan and Pumpkin Spice. Normally Joyce could handle both shops alone, since they’re adjacent, but with the added work…” Echo gave her an apologetic look.

  “No, don’t worry about it. It’s okay,” Missy assured her tender-hearted friend. “I’m just facing the reality that since business is booming, I’m not going to be able to do this alone anymore.”

  “Well, after the coffee is done, I’d be happy to make you a ‘Help Wanted’ sign,” Echo offered.

  “I don’t even know when I’m going to have time to conduct interviews,” Missy mused.

  Echo waved a dismissive hand. “Cross that bridge when you come to it. Let’s get some people coming in to apply and worry about the rest of it later,” she suggested.

  “You’re right,” Missy nodded. “It’s time consuming, but it’ll be well worth the effort to get some relief.”

  Echo handed her friend a cup of coffee and gave her a hug, being careful not to jostle her sleeping child.

  “It’s going to be okay. Having too much business to handle is a good problem to have.”

  “I keep telling myself that,” Missy chuckled. “I hate to ask, but do you think you could drop off my Middle School order on your way downtown?”

  “Of course, I’d be happy to. Is it all ready to go?”

  “I just have to box them up,” Missy gestured to massive trays of cupcakes on the back counter by inclining her head while pouring batter into cupcake tins.

  “Let me get started on that,” Echo offered, heading for the stack of pale pink and green striped boxes. “What are you making? It smells delicious.”

  “I came up with a couple of new recipes last night when I couldn’t sleep. The one that I’m making now is caramel pretzel. It’s a white cupcake, with caramel cream cheese filling and buttercream frosting with caramel drizzle and crushed salted pretzels on top,” Missy explained, sliding the filled tray into a pre-heated oven.

  “Wow,” Echo nodded appreciatively. “Well, at least stress makes you creative,” she teased.

  “At this rate I’ll be baking seven new varieties a day,” Missy smiled wanly.

  “Chin up, sweetie, I’m sure the right person will come along before you know it,” her friend assured her.

  “I certainly hope so.”

  ***

  Missy’s caramel pretzel cupcakes were a huge hit, and she sold out of them before two o’clock, thankful when there was an afternoon lull. She’d just restocked the gleaming glass display cases with her standard flavors, when the bells over the door jangled, signaling the end to her brief respite. A rather scruffy-looking young man came in, hands loosely in the pockets of his baggy cargo shorts.

  “Hello,” Missy smiled. “Hot enough out there for you?” she asked, thinking that he looked rumpled and overly warm.

  “It’s Florida,” he shrugged, not returning the smile.

  “True enough. I knew I signed up for the heat when I moved here,” Missy agreed, sighing inwardly.

  Carrying one side of a conversation was enough of a challenge; carrying two sides was exhausting in her current state.

  The young man cocked his head to the side and looked at he
r oddly.

  “Can I have an application?” he asked, and Missy’s heart sunk.

  “Of course.”

  She rummaged through the files under the cash register and handed him the form.

  “You got a pen?” he asked, seeming impatient.

  Biting her tongue, Missy reached into the cup beside the register, which happened to be full of pens, and handed one to him. The young man offered neither acknowledgment nor thanks, and simply sat down at one of the bistro tables in the eating area to pore over the form. Ashamed of herself for judging, Missy hoped that he’d finish before any new customers came in, thinking that they might be wary of the unkempt applicant.

  He finished filling the application out in short order, and handed it to Missy over the counter.

  “I’m free for an interview now,” he informed her.

  “Oh,” Missy’s eyebrows shot skyward. She pretended to look at the application. “Well, I’m actually really busy at the moment, but I can give you a call if…” she began, but he interrupted.

  “There’s no one here,” he challenged, blinking at her.

  Missy bit back the first thing that came to her mind, wanting to maintain her civility, and knowing that her stress level was likely affecting her mood. She didn’t want to hire this young man, that much was certain. He didn’t have quite the customer service personality that she was looking for. Figuring that she might as well interview him, just so that she could officially eliminate him from consideration, she gritted her teeth and plastered on a smile.

  “Please, have a seat. This shouldn’t take very long,” she directed, coming out from behind the counter.

  “Well, I think I deserve a thorough interview,” the young man remarked, flopping back into the chair that he’d just vacated.

  “Of course,” Missy struggled to keep her plastic smile firmly in place. “So your name is Justin,” she observed, reading from the paper. “I’m Missy.”

  “You own the place?” he interrupted again.

  She stared at him for a moment, thinking that she’d made a mistake in granting him an on the spot interview.

  “Yes. Let me just take a second to review your application,” she fixed her eyes on the paper, simmering.

  Justin sat across from her while she read, staring at her the entire time.

  “You went to pastry school?” she tried to keep the surprise from her voice.

  “Yes.”

  “With that sort of training, wouldn’t you prefer to work at a larger bakery?”

  “I need a job,” was the toneless reply.

  “I’m only looking for someone part-time.”

  “Part-time is better than no time. Gotta eat,” Justin shrugged again.

  “How do you feel about working with the public?”

  “Fine.”

  Missy took a breath. Conversing with this monosyllabic young man was a challenge she could not meet today.

  “Okay, well then. I’ll be accepting applications for a while yet, so I’ll call you if I’d like you to come back in for another interview,” she smiled and stood.

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “You don’t have a phone?” Missy repeated.

  “Gotta have a job to have a phone.”

  “Well, it’s rather difficult to contact you if you don’t have a phone.”

  “I’ll contact you,” was the strange reply, as Justin stood and turned to go.

  Before Missy could ask another question, he was out the door.

  “Well, that went well,” she commented dryly.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  “Rough day, sweetie?” Chas Beckett asked his wife, kissing the top of her head.

  “No worse than usual,” Missy attempted a smile. “How was your day?”

  “Changing the subject, love? It must’ve been bad. Okay, I’ll play along,” Chas leaned against the counter, watching his wife whipping up yet another variety of cupcakes in their massive kitchen.

  “I told the chief that I’d help out the department if any homicides came in, but in the meantime, I’m working on a particularly nasty cold case.”

  “Oh?” Missy raised an eyebrow, curious, and glad for the distraction.

  “A young woman was brutally murdered a few years ago. The prime suspect was her boyfriend, but there was a profound lack of evidence, so he was never arrested. Right now, I’m doing background checks and trying to see if anything was overlooked in the original investigation.”

  “Where’s the boyfriend now? Did he move?”

  “No. He still lives in the house that they shared.”

  “Was she killed in the house?”

  “In the master bedroom,” Chas nodded.

  “Eww… that’s creepy,” Missy shuddered. “I guess my issues really pale in the face of something like that.”

  “We all have our challenges. How’s Echo?” her husband wisely changed the subject, coming up behind her, and massaging her neck.

  “Busy, as usual. She put out her new fall line of candles this morning. The scents sound delicious. Oh, and Kel has decided to open a gallery here in Calgon, isn’t that exciting?”

  Echo’s husband, Phillip “Kel” Kellerman, was a local, world-renowned artist.

  “Wow, that’s great,” Chas nodded. “Good for him. Does that mean he won’t have to travel as much?”

  “I think the idea was to allow him more time at home with the family, and Echo said that he’ll be hiring a gallery manager who will help him with the business side of things so that he can focus on his art.”

  “Sounds like he’ll be much happier.”

  “Yep, Echo says that he’s already more relaxed. I envy him that,” Missy mused.

  “Any luck finding someone to help at the shop?” Chas kissed the back of her neck while she filled a bag with frosting.

  “No, but if you keep doing that, I might just forget about all my troubles,” Missy laughed softly.

  “Your wish is my command,” he declared, embracing her from behind.

  ***

  Marine veteran Spencer Bengal flipped through the folder in front of him, hoping that he’d be able to identify something that didn’t quite fit. He’d worked cold cases before, and there was always something hidden in plain sight that turned out to be significant. During his time with the Marines, Spencer had been on special assignment for the government, and had been specifically trained to provide personal security for Chas Beckett, heir to the Beckett fortune, since he’d graduated from high school. The Beckett family had paid for an exclusive Ivy League education, and had otherwise groomed the handsome and upstanding young man for a specific future. Now Spencer worked alongside Chas as a private investigator, and was always in close proximity to Chas and Missy, living in the former caretaker’s cottage on their estate.

  “Any luck?” Chas popped his head into Spencer’s office.

  “Not so far,” Spencer’s strong jaw flexed and he shook his head. “I have to wonder what could have motivated the boyfriend to kill her.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the boyfriend.”

  “I know, and I’ve been thinking about that too, but I seriously can’t find a compelling reason for anyone to have killed this girl. She was active in the community, devoted time to charity work, and worked hard herself. She rose through the ranks at the bank, starting out as a teller. Seems like a model citizen—I just don’t get it.”

  “Do you have the list of persons of interest?” Chas asked.

  “Yeah, and I’m hoping that I can add to it.”

  “Give what you’ve got to Ringo, and see what he can find out.”

  “Is he even here?” Spencer asked.

  Their resident hacker was often lackadaisical about his work hours, but they tolerated it because he often worked well into the wee hours of the morning, and his hacking skills were second to none.

  “Probably. I think I smelled pizza,” Chas rolled his eyes.

  Ringo’s affinity for fast food of any type was we
ll known.

  “All right, I’ll pass the list along and will keep looking,” Spencer’s phone rang, showing a New York number.

  He frowned at the device, trying to figure out who might be calling him, and Chas took his leave.

  “I’ll let you get that,” he raised his hand in farewell. “Let me know if you find anything.”

  “Will do,” Spencer nodded absently. “Hello?” he answered the call.

  After listening intently for a while, the Marine’s face grew grave. He hung up and headed down the hall to Chas’s office at a trot. Beckett looked up, startled, when Spencer burst in the door without knocking.

  “I have to go to New York,” he announced, then briefly explained the reason for his abrupt departure.

  Chas listened, nodding. “Don’t give it a second thought, just go,” he advised.

  “I’ll send Janssen in to take my place here,” Spencer assured his boss.

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  “I’m not great with people right now,” Janssen mumbled, sitting across the desk from Chas.

  “I understand.”

  Janssen, whose real name was Will Channing, had served in Afghanistan with Spencer, as a member of a covert operation that neither man could speak about. The atrocities that the Marine had suffered had taken their toll, and when the government finally sent him home, he’d spent a year living off the land, trying to re-acclimate to normal life, while foreign agents chased after him trying to kill him.

  He couldn’t go back to his wife and teenaged son until the government had rounded up his enemies and officially released him from duty, and when he had returned—after they’d spent nearly a year thinking that he was dead—they hadn’t welcomed him the way he’d hoped. His son had been relieved and thrilled to see him, but his wife hadn’t known how to react, and had asked him for some time to think; so Spencer and Chas had drafted him into working with them while he tried to figure out his personal life.