Cake Tastings and Killers

  Cake Tastings and Killers

  A.R. Winters

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Untitled

  Sneak Peak: Killer Cruise

  Chapter Two

  Cake Tastings and Killers

  Copyright 2021 by A. R. Winters

  www.arwinters.com

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  The Florida sun blazed through the open shutters in the parlor, bouncing off the freshly shined parquet. It gave the room a gentle glow. Specks of dust hung in the air, dancing in the beam on their way to the glow.

  Danielle picked coordinating greens and blues for the window treatments, molding, and upholstery of the room. The deep, rich tones somehow channeled breezy beach life and opulence in equal measures. From every angle, the parlor oozed social media appeal.

  I had to admit it made for an idyllic picture. If only I had the time or energy to take it.

  “If you’ve got time to stare, you’ve got time to clean, Laura Fisher,” Granny said.

  Her scowl and child-get-your-act-together tone zapped me back to my teen years. Lemon cleanser, salty breezes, and Grandpa’s cheap beer.

  I blinked myself out of yet another unexpected trip down memory lane. Granny stood by the piano, glowering at me with all the force her tiny body could muster. My cheeks burned. I turned back to my work.

  Margaret Fisher became a housewife in the 1950s, the era that codified the trope. Granny would die before she let company cross a threshold she hadn’t given a proper wash.

  “All done, Granny.” I forced a smile to my face and climbed to my feet, ignoring the crack of protest from my battered knees.

  It didn’t matter to Granny that the house wasn’t ours. Paradise Bed and Breakfast had been in the Loper family for three generations. Granny Fisher and I weren’t Lopers. My baby sister Danielle married Andrew Loper, the only son of the family. She adopted Paradise as her first child. After she gave birth to her real first child, Benjamin, Danielle called the surviving Fishers to form a village around her.

  My baby sister was the only person who could get me to come back to Paraiso Island. There were too many memories here that I preferred to leave behind.

  Danielle glanced at the clock on the piano and frowned. “The coordinator from the bakery should be here by now.”

  With a sinking sensation in my stomach, I glanced at Danielle. Sure enough, her eyes combed over my loose jean shorts. She scowled and shifted her gaze to the ripped hem of my T-shirt. That look meant one thing, and my throbbing feet couldn’t take it.

  “Laura, how about you run back to the cottage and get changed?” Her voice was gentle, but her blue eyes pleaded with me to agree. “If the clients beat the coordinator here, we can do a wine tasting.”

  I wanted to claim exhaustion and flee back to the cottage for a long nap. No, a bath and a cold beer and then a nap. But we needed this contract to pay out in full.

  The tourist season hadn’t been kind to Paradise B&B. Nor had the one before it. Or the one before that. Things were so tight that Danielle ran Paradise with a skeleton crew all winter. Granny and I absorbed the extra work with no fuss. If there was one silver lining to a lack of guests, it was the lack of grimy sheets.

  This was the first wedding of a make-or-break season for Paradise, and it was already off to a rotten start.

  I couldn’t leave Danielle to face it alone. No matter how tired I was.

  Granny responded before I opened my mouth. “You take the baby in your suite and rest. Laura can handle everything. I’ll supervise.”

  I stifled a groan. We’d been up since sunrise, and Granny hadn’t stopped for so much as a drink. My knees were raw. The knots in my back wouldn’t budge no matter how much I rubbed. But my eighty-two-year-old grandmother looked fresh enough to run a marathon. And crazy enough to drag me with her.

  Only Danielle managed to escape the madness, but she found a worse fate. Baby Benjamin woke at midnight and wouldn’t be consoled for love or money. He wasn’t sick. He didn’t seem hungry. He was just deeply unhappy about some slight at which his mother could only guess. Judging by the sag of her shoulders as she stood, tending to Benjamin that morning hadn’t been much of an escape.

  “You’re so much better with him, Granny.” To prove her point, Danielle put the wriggling bundle into Granny’s arms. He twisted, cooed, and quieted down. “See? You’ve got the touch.”

  Granny looked at Danielle with narrow eyes, but her expression melted.

  Danielle and I exchanged looks behind Granny’s back. I mouthed a silent “thank you.” Granny loved to put on a show for the clients, and I was her favorite puppet. I was too tired and sore to survive an afternoon with Granny Fisher as my taskmaster.

  While Granny was distracted by Benjamin’s chubby cheeks, I ducked into the hallway. A woman in clean, pressed khaki capris and sparkling white sneakers stood on the other side of the screen doors.

  A wide smile spread across her lips. She dipped her chin and gestured to the pale blue cake box in her hands. A dolly loaded with four identical boxes stood on the porch behind her.

  “Hi, I’m Paige! From the bakery? Mind giving me a hand? Kind of an armful here.” Her pristine red ponytail swung with every word, only stopping when she paused to take a breath.

  I heaved a sigh of relief—and sympathy for Paige’s lungs—and pushed the screen door open. Paige breezed through, leaving a heavy wave of gardenia perfume in her wake.

  Four people came up the walkway behind Paige. It was hard to forget the look of money once you came across it. These four wore it like an armor against the morning sun, strutting as if the heat couldn’t touch them.

  A man and woman with bright smiles and impeccable tans lingered in the back, swinging their clasped hands gently. The woman wore a white sundress embroidered with orange flowers. The man, who was nearly a foot taller than her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her body against his.

  That would be the bride and groom.

  Two more men in button-up shirts and smart slacks led the pack. Their tans were just as perfect.

  One of them was Charlie Porter. He wore the cockiest smile of them all. It grew wider when his gaze landed on me. Recognition flashed in his green eyes. Mischief glinted in them a second after.

  “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

  The wind blew a wave of Charlie’s cologne into my face. Sage and citrus, with a hint of talc. I couldn’t speak. My body wouldn’t move. My brain was too busy holding together the pieces of my suddenly shattered world.

  Why hadn’t anybody w
arned me Charlie Porter would be here?

  Danielle stepped into the hallway, empty-handed, and introduced herself to the couple. The conversation washed over me. My focus narrowed on Charlie. It stayed on him as the group filed past me into the parlor.

  I heard Danielle’s voice from what sounded like far away. She was by my side, her hand on my elbow.

  “Are you gonna be okay?” Her brow furrowed. She knew the sordid details of my past with Charlie Porter better than anyone.

  Could I keep my cool around Charlie Porter, the man who broke my heart so badly I ran across the country to escape the burn?

  I nodded. This time, I couldn’t muster a fake smile. “I’ll get freshened up. Give me five minutes. Ten tops.”

  I bolted through the screen door and down the steps before Danielle could stop me. If she gave me one more way out, I would take it. It had been years since I last saw Charlie. I never wanted to see him again.

  I liked my heart in one piece.

  Chapter Two

  I ran to the garden cottage on the other side of the grounds, changed, and got back to the main house in record time. Since I couldn’t run on the return trip without becoming a sweaty mess all over again, I thought it was pretty impressive. Throw in the fact that all this trouble was to impress a piece of crud like Charlie and I deserved a freaking medal!

  The tasting was in full swing when I snuck back into the parlor. Paige the coordinator offered a tray of cupcakes with names like toasted amaretto and coconut dream. Danielle moved over to me, asking with her eyes if I was okay.

  When I nodded, she gestured to the wedding party. “Caroline and Simon, her groom. The one on the couch by himself is a groomsman, her brother Jason. You already know the best man.”

  Best man? Simon looked too sweet to have Charlie Porter as a close friend.

  “Jason, Simon, and Caroline. Got it.” I turned toward the clients.

  All I had to do was get through the cake tasting, then I could have my beer and my bath. Maybe I would add a good long cry too. At least Charlie picked a sofa with his back to me. He didn’t even seem to know I was in the room.

  While Danielle and I looked on dutifully, Paige took the wedding party through an impressive spread of flavor combinations. Banana toffee with salted caramel fondant. German chocolate with dark chocolate ganache filling. My personal favorite, based solely on how good the combination sounded, was pecan marble with peach jam filling.

  After Baby Benjamin went down for his nap, Granny Fisher came back. Danielle caught her by the arm and pulled her between us, holding a finger to her lips.

  Granny followed Danielle’s instructions for the time it took Paige to go through three more samples.

  “We should have had that girl come in earlier,” Granny whispered. “She’d have been finished by now.”

  “They paid extra for the VIP experience,” Danielle whispered back. “Besides, she works at the fanciest bakery in the area. She’s used to it.”

  I wanted to agree with Danielle, if only to keep Granny from taking over everything. But Paige looked like she was at the end of her rope.

  Paige’s shoulders had slumped inward. Her lips were pressed in a straight line. She moved to the sideboard in a slow trudge. Creases formed in her brow as she loaded the next round of samples onto small china plates.

  “I’ll help her.” Before reason or my family could stop me, I crossed the room to Paige’s side. Plucking the loaded serving tray from the sideboard, I flashed a smile of encouragement. “Looked like you could use backup.”

  Paige nodded and gestured for me to follow her back to the sofas. She passed the plates to the wedding party, treating me to a whiff of lemony cake and pungent brown filling. It wasn’t chocolate—I could smell that from a county over—but it was familiar.

  “The next sample is key lime cake with espresso filling.”

  I wanted to take back every nice thing I’d thought about Caroline. Clearly, the woman was insane.

  Charlie clapped his hands and snatched his plate from Paige’s hands. “That’s the one we’ve been waiting for!” He slid the plate in front of Jason’s face. Right under his nose.

  Jason swallowed. “I’m good, man. Totally stuffed.”

  Charlie’s jaw stiffened. His upper lip curled into a slight sneer. “Don’t wimp out on me now, dude.”

  “You’re the one who wanted that flavor,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you eat it?”

  “Because Jason here is the chief taste tester.”

  Caroline frowned. “Says who?”

  “Says me.” Charlie glared at Caroline. “At work on Friday. Didn’t I, Jason?”

  Caroline and Jason exchanged a look. She set her sample plate on the table, turning away from Charlie and toward the fresco of a sailboat painted on the wall.

  The air thickened with tension. I took a breath and steadied the tray in my hands. For Danielle and Caroline’s sake, I prayed Charlie would get bored and move on. But I knew he wouldn’t. Charlie Porter never gave up. Not until he got his way.

  His main opposition silenced, Charlie speared a forkful of the spongy cake near the filling. He held it up to Jason’s mouth. “Just try it.”

  The best man and groomsman stared each other down. Neither gave an inch. Caroline’s lower lip began to tremble. I was angry for her. How could Charlie be so mean at someone else’s wedding event?

  “Charlie, come on, bro,” Simon said, shifting in his seat. “It’s my wedding.”

  The groom never raised his voice, but the quiet scolding seemed to snap Charlie back to reality. His mischievous smile returned.

  “I don’t know what everyone’s worried about. This bakery could make week-old grouper taste like creme brûlée. Just look at how well Paige filled out.”

  Caroline gasped. Jason rolled his eyes. Simon turned to his unhappy bride and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  The color drained from Paige’s face. Without a word, she gathered the discarded sample plates from the table. She set them back on the tray, took the tray from my hands, and paused just long enough to whisper a soft “excuse me.”

  Charlie popped the forkful of cupcake into his mouth. After a few seconds of chewing, he made a face. “Ugh! I was wrong. This tastes like dirt.”

  Danielle hurried over. Granny followed close after. Both looked ready to tear Charlie limb from limb, but it was more important to salvage the event Charlie was determined to ruin. Granny grabbed two matching cupcakes from the box, cut them in half, and plated them.

  Danielle squeezed Caroline’s arm gently. “Let’s move on to the next round, shall we?”

  Charlie answered. “Yes! I need to get the taste of butt out of my mouth.”

  “Here,” Granny said as she passed the serving tray to me. “I don’t need that boy making me swear in front of company.”

  My blank face must have given Granny the impression I’d emotionally detached from the chaos around me. Nothing could have been further from the truth. A ball of fire roiled in my stomach every time I looked at Charlie Porter’s smug smile.

  I wanted to smash a cupcake in his stupid face, but Paradise Bed and Breakfast wouldn’t survive losing the first wedding of the season. Word would get around the island. The guests would dry up completely. So I took a deep breath and carried the tray back to the sofas.

  When Charlie saw me, he leaned back and spread his arms across the sofa back. “You know, you’re a lot easier on the eyes than the other one. How about after this you and I get a drink?”

  I blinked in surprise. I wanted to tell him to drop dead. That I would never in a million years get a drink with him.

  “You don’t remember me?” I asked. Smooth, Laura.

  “I will after tonight,” Charlie crooned. “Believe me.”

  My control snapped. I turned to Charlie and forced my face to stay cool while the fire in my belly raged.

  “Somebody is going to give you exactly what you deserve one day, Charlie Porter,” I said. “And I hope I’m alive
to see it.”

  “Laura!” Danielle snatched the tray from my hands and put it on the table. “Excuse us for a moment. Granny, will you get our guests some refreshments?”

  Danielle marched toward the door before anyone answered, dragging me by the arm behind her. My stomach sank with each step. Charlie baited me, and I bit. Again!

  “Take a walk,” Danielle said, pushing the screen door open. “Cool off.”

  “You have every right to be mad,” I said. “But it’s just… Charlie’s so—”

  “I know.” Her expression softened. “But he’s still a client.”

  Danielle disappeared back into the parlor to finish the cake tasting, leaving me alone in the hall to stew in my emotions.

  This was why I preferred photographing events to organizing them. Special days—and the expectations that came with them—were best limited to frozen moments in time.

  Chapter Three

  As soon as I stepped onto the front porch, the heat of my anger faded. Bitter guilt took its place. I didn’t want to sit with such a strong emotion so close to Charlie and his antics, so I took my sister’s advice and went for a walk.

  Walking the grounds of the Paradise had become one of my favorite pastimes. The bed and breakfast occupied eighteen acres of the most picturesque land on Paraiso Cove. I had three dozen curated photos to prove it.

  The house and land were in Andrew’s name, but Danielle ran the place. At her instruction, a local yard crew kept the lawns perfectly manicured. The grounds were bordered by the beach to the southeast and the highway to the northwest. Careful landscaping gave the illusion that the Paradise was secluded, but the highway was easily accessible.