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Streusel Creme Killer: Book 5 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series Page 2
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“I believe so,” Tim replied, looking forward to taking samples and performing the investigation that would help unravel the mystery surrounding this case.
He could tell by the high level of involvement that there must be something special about the deceased, but he neither knew, nor cared, who or what she was while still in an animated state – there were answers to be found that perhaps only her deceased form could provide, and he was determined to find them.
“So, what do you think happened to her, Timmy?” Fiona asked, as her boss drove them toward the morgue, the victim tucked securely into the back of the vehicle.
“Don’t call me that,” was the toneless reply.
“Poison? Strangulation? Blunt force trauma?” she guessed, trying to get a rise out of the mortician.
He took his eyes off the road briefly, to look at her in abject disbelief.
“Blunt force trauma? There was absolutely nothing to suggest…” he began, sputtering at her preposterous statement.
“Ha! Made you talk,” she interrupted with a mischievous grin.
Timothy Eckels blinked at his assistant from behind his coke-bottle thick glasses. He failed to see the humor in her ploy, and didn’t appreciate being toyed with. The examination and eventual preparation of the deceased was something he took very seriously, and his look spoke volumes.
“Oh, lighten up, Timmy. I just want to talk about the case,” she sighed.
“Don’t call me that,” he replied again.
“Well she didn’t bleed out,” Fiona muttered, crossing her arms and pouting.
Tim didn’t even dignify her nonsense with a reply.
CHAPTER 4
Missy, Echo and Kel sat around their favorite bistro table munching the Streusel Crème Cupcakes that Missy had been inspired to invent after tasting Carmen Feeney’s streusel cake.
“Dear lady, you have outdone yourself yet again,” Kel said, through a mouthful of cupcake.
“Thanks,” Missy grinned. “I had fun making them.”
She loved to invent new flavors of cupcakes, and these had turned out exceptionally well. She’d added thick, rich, sour cream to the batter, then created a cinnamon whipped filling, and topped the sumptuous little cakes off with cream cheese frosting, and crunchy, caramelized brown sugar and cinnamon. Of course, she’d made a vegan version too, which Echo was profoundly enjoying.
“Seriously, I could live on these things,” she agreed, her eyes practically rolling back in her head at the sweet goodness.
“How’s your friend from the bookstore doing?” Missy asked, remembering the inspiration for her delicious treats.
Echo sobered and took a sip of coffee to wash down her bite before answering.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. She’s still taking meds for her nerves, and the bookstore hasn’t been open since…well, you know, but I talked to her on the phone yesterday and she sounded much better. I think she’s planning on waiting until next week to reopen. She said she just can’t deal with walking in and remembering how it felt to see a body lying on the floor.”
“Such an awful thing,” Missy shook her head. “The poor dear. Kel, do you have any news about what happened? Chas hasn’t said much of anything at all about it.”
“I bet he hasn’t,” the artist replied, taking a swig of his coffee. “The victim was very…shall we say, high profile.”
“Really?” Echo sat up, listening attentively. “Who was it, and how did you find out?”
“Well, perhaps I shouldn’t say, but I overheard it myself, so I can’t be blamed if someone out there has loose lips. I was at the Club for lunch yesterday, and overheard a couple of fellows, who are in a position to know, say that it was Vice Mayor Diane Fellman who was killed,” he confided.
“Wow,” Missy put down her cupcake. “You’d think that something like that would be all over the news. Why haven’t we heard anything about it?”
“I’m not quite sure, but I believe that the local authorities have probably been instructed by someone in high places to keep it quiet until the circumstances of her death are determined,” Kel shrugged.
“Hmm…that sounds mysterious. Who would kill a Vice Mayor, and why?” Echo wondered.
“I have no idea, but I’m glad that, for once, I don’t have to be involved in solving a mystery,” Missy sighed.
“Well, actually…” Echo bit her lip.
“What?” Missy and Kel asked in unison.
“I think that the police might suspect that Carmen Feeney is the murderer, and if that’s the case, I was hoping that we might be able to do some investigating on the side…”
“…to prove that she’s innocent,” Missy finished for her, with a rueful smile.
“Well, you have to admit that we are quite good at such things,” Kel raised his eyebrows.
“That’s because we’ve had so much practice,” Missy sighed.
“So…what do you say, are you guys up for it?” Echo asked hopefully.
“I have a socialite to babysit for a good portion of the day, but once she finally decides whether or not to buy, and goes back to New York, I’d be happy to help,” Kel offered.
“You know I can’t help but get involved when sweet, innocent people are named as suspects,” Missy replied truthfully. “I’m in.”
“Oh good. You guys are the best,” Echo grinned, relieved.
“Indeed,” Kel nodded and they all chuckled.
“So, where do we start?” Missy looked at Echo expectantly.
“How about we take some cupcakes to Carmen and see if we can get her to recount what happened without being too traumatized.”
“Perfect. Can you get away for an hour at lunch? I can have Spencer take over for me here.”
“That’ll work for me,” Echo nodded. “I’ll just put my “out to lunch” sign up in the door while I’m gone.”
“You ladies enjoy your visit with Mrs. Feeney,” Kel said, rising to go. “I’m off to purgatory.”
The gals said goodbye to the artist, and sat quietly for a while, drinking coffee and nibbling on cupcakes.
“You know, we still have a little while before you have to get going…let’s go back into the office and see what we can find out about Madame Vice Mayor, and why someone might want to kill her.”
“Good idea,” Echo nodded, following Missy back to the tiny office at the cupcake shop.
She did an internet search on Diane Fellman, and came up with tons of results that fell into the category of “not the least bit helpful.” There were ribbon cuttings, the building of a new wing at the hospital, speeches to the Ladies Auxiliary and various other service organizations, and numerous charitable events – nothing that even hinted at controversy.
“By all appearances, she was an outstanding citizen. Why did someone kill her?” Missy murmured, frowning at the computer screen.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Echo agreed. “This looks like a job for Kel. Hopefully he can talk to someone who will lend some insight. That is if he can ever escape the clutches of Carlotta,” she grimaced. “He says that she’s one of the most high maintenance buyers he’s ever had. When I told him that maybe it’s because she just wants his attention, he just laughed,” she shook her head, staring down into her coffee.
“Kel loves you, sweetie. That woman can try to work her wiles all she wants and it’ll bounce off that man like a brand new trampoline,” Missy assured her friend, giving her a quick hug.
“I know,” Echo muttered. “I need to get going so I can open the shop, but don’t forget, we’re going to go talk to Carmen Feeney at lunch.”
“Pick you up at 11:30?”
“Sounds good, see you then.”
Missy watched her friend go, remembering what it had been like to see other women flirting with Chas. She’d known that he loved her, but it had still gotten under her skin. In a few days, hopefully Carlotta would be gone, and life would go back to normal for her fiery-haired friend.
**
&
nbsp; “Oh, you two are such dears for coming over to check on me,” Carmen Feeney clutched a mug of tea, as the three women sat in her tiny living room, which was decked out entirely in shades of pink. From the carpet to the wallpaper, to the drapes, it looked as though someone had drawn inspiration from a bottle of calamine lotion, and had decided to “apply liberally.”
“You poor thing,” Missy’s inner nurturer came out. She had met Carmen a couple of times when visiting Echo’s candle shop, and her heart went out to the frail older woman. “I can’t even imagine how terrified you must have been.”
“It was awful,” Carmen shook her head. “I had arrived at the shop a bit earlier than usual, because I wanted to mark down a collection of paperbacks that aren’t selling, and I came in the back, like I always do. So, I puttered around, getting my cash drawer ready, putting the coffee pot on – you know, my regular morning routine, and when I went out there with my pricing gun, ready to mark the books down, there she was,” the tiny woman shook her head, remembering.
“Was the back door open when you got there?” Echo asked.
“No. It was locked like always. I don’t know how a…a…killer got into my little shop,” Carmen took a steadying breath. “That place is my second home. I just feel so violated,” she shuddered and set down her tea cup on an end table by the sofa.
“Did you know…the victim?” Missy asked softly.
Carmen stared at her for a moment.
“No. I mean, I knew who she was, of course. I’ve been to enough charity events and such, but we weren’t exactly friends.”
“Did she shop at your lovely store?” Echo asked, trying to make the woman feel more comfortable, because she seemed to be getting a bit agitated.
Mrs. Feeney made a face.
“Oh, she would never. A “New and Used” local business definitely would not have been her cup of tea,” she replied, sounding a touch bitter.
“Oh?” Missy asked, a concerned frown creasing her brow.
“Diane Fellman considered herself to be “upper crust.” She was much too sophisticated to patronize a dusty little establishment like mine,” Carmen explained, sounding defensive.
Missy nodded. That had been her impression of the Vice Mayor as well.
“Where did you find…her?” Echo asked delicately, changing the subject.
“Well, as you know, my non-fiction areas are arranged alphabetically, and her body was just a few feet from the check-out lane, between the Travel and Science aisles. I tell you, the sight of those pennies on her eyes will haunt me all of my days,” Carmen paled a bit.
“I can’t even imagine,” Missy said sympathetically.
“Ladies, I’d love to visit more with you, but I haven’t been feeling very well lately, and I think a nap is in order. Won’t you please excuse me?” Mrs. Feeney asked, looking and sounding weak.
“Of course,” Echo replied hurriedly, as she and Missy stood to go. “We don’t want to intrude, we just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“And I thank you for it,” Carmen’s smile was wan as she closed the door behind them, after accepting light hugs.
“What do you think?” Missy asked, after she and Echo were buckled in.
“I think that Carmen Feeney sounded a little bit hostile toward Diane Fellman, honestly,” she sighed, not even wanting to consider the implications of that.
“That was my thought too,” Missy agreed, her expression sad.
CHAPTER 5
Missy was lost in thought as she drove back to the cupcake shop, after dropping Echo off downtown. Carmen Feeney seemed like such a sweet little old lady, but when she’d spoken of Diane Fellman, there was an unexpected degree of disdain and animosity. Was it possible that the frail older woman had killed the Vice Mayor? And if so, how on earth did she do it? She came away from the conversation more confused than when she had gone into it. Mrs. Feeney certainly didn’t seem like the type of person who would commit murder, so perhaps there was another explanation.
Humming to herself as she wiped down the tables in the eating area, Missy looked up with a smile when the bells over the door jangled. A young man with long hair and a scruffy beard came in, along with a woman who wore a long skirt and had wild, untamed hair that somehow reminded her of Echo.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the pair. “How can I help you? I have some delightful vegan streusel cupcakes if you’re hungry,” she offered.
“No thank you, ma’am,” the young man in a Viet-Nam era military jacket answered politely. “But we would like to speak with you for a moment, if you can spare some time to chat.”
“Certainly,” Missy nodded. “Let me just go put this cloth away and wash my hands, and I’ll be right with you,” she said, heading for the kitchen.
She tossed the cloth into one of the huge, stainless commercial sinks, wash and dried her hands, and headed out to the front of the shop, where the young man and his companion had seated themselves at a table.
“Can I get y’all some coffee or anything?” Missy asked, pouring a cup for herself.
“No thank you,” the couple said in unison, making Missy smile as she sat down with them.
“My name is Dylan McClary,” the young man introduced himself. “And this is my friend Chelsea Nichols. We’re from an organization called Safe-A, which stands for Save All Florida Endangered Animals. It’s a grass-roots group dedicated to protecting the environment and all of the creatures living within it,” he explained.
“That’s wonderful,” Missy smiled. “I’m an animal lover from way back.”
Dylan and Chelsea both seemed relieved.
“Oh good,” Chelsea sighed with a smile. “Because we’re here to talk to you today about a situation that may endanger the environment and the plants and animals living within it that hits a little bit too close to home.”
“Really?” Missy frowned.
“Really,” Dylan nodded gravely. “There is a proposal in front of the city council right now that could destroy a vital part of the ecosystem right here in Calgon,” he explained urgently.
“What’s it all about?” Missy asked, growing worried.
The Inn and shop were right on the beach in the lovely town, and something that could adversely affect the environment had the potential to harm their business directly.
“There’s a company, GenetiCorp, that chemically manipulates algae and other small life forms, by introducing different chemicals into their environment. The algae essentially consumes the mixtures of chemicals and excretes substances that the company uses to manufacture various products. Now, if it wasn’t bad enough that they’re doing that to the algae and other single cell animals, the horrible thing is the waste products that they’ll be introducing into the local environment. All of those chemical solutions have to go somewhere after they’re done with them, and who knows what havoc that could wreak on local ecosystems?” Dylan explained.
“Well, have there been studies done on this? Does the company have other locations? What do we know about them?” Missy asked, trying not to let emotion dictate her reaction.
“What we know is that they make billions of dollars by exploiting local habitats,” Chelsea replied, sounding angry.
Dylan silenced her with a look.
“What we know is that this company has a habit of coming into smaller towns that could use the income from a major manufacturing facility coming in and setting up shop. They sway the local politicians to push their agenda, and end up turning quaint little towns into polluted wastelands. When they’re done with their abuse, they pull up stakes and move on to the next victims,” he asserted earnestly. “We don’t want that to happen here in Calgon, which is why we’re asking local folks and business owners to sign this petition to keep GenetiCorp out,” he handed Missy a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.
She saw the signatures of some people that she knew, and many more that she didn’t.
“Are y’all from Calgon?” she asked, never having heard of Safe-A
before.
“We personally aren’t, but we have several friends and family members here who are very concerned about this issue. The town council is going to vote on the decision next week, so we have to act now to put a stop to this,” Dylan’s voice held a sense of urgency.
Missy nodded. “Okay, do you have some information that you can leave with me? I really want to look into this, it sounds like something that’s important to investigate.”
“What?” Chelsea asked, sounding astonished.
Dylan put his hand on her arm.
“Here’s the good news. We’ve already done the research for you. GenetiCorp is bad news. They’re a company that you don’t want in your town, and all you need to do is sign here so that we can band together for the common good to stop this corporate giant from having its way with Calgon,” he said, modulating his voice to sound reasonable.
“I understand that you’re both very passionate about this issue,” Missy looked at them both. “But, honey, when it’s something this important, I do my own research before I sign anything. I’m sure you two know what you’re talking about, but until I uncover my own facts and am satisfied that I’m doing the right thing for the right reasons, I’m not signing anything.” Her voice was firm, but gentle.
“Are you kidding me?” Chelsea’s mouth fell open and she gazed at Missy, incredulous.
“We understand completely,” Dylan stood, pulling Chelsea up with him. “You’re a careful person, and we can appreciate that. We’ll come back by tomorrow, after you’ve had some time to do your own fact-checking, and you can sign then.”
“Oh, there’s no way in the world that I’ll be ready by tomorrow. I take my time when things are important. Why don’t you give me a business card, and I can call you when I figure out my position on this,” she asked reasonably.