Creepy Cake Murder Page 7
A scream rang out from within. “Help! Help me, please!”
Oh no. Oh no, I can’t possibly handle this. But the negative thoughts didn’t stop me from rushing toward the front of the Smith residence. The front door was shut, but unlocked. I opened it and let myself into a hallway that was devoid of decoration.
“Please!” It was a woman’s voice, coming from the living room.
I entered and stopped on the worn carpet. It was Emmaline. And she was tied to a chair!
“What on earth? What happened to you?”
“It was Franklin,” Emmaline burst out. “He tied me to the chair. He killed her! He killed Theresa. I had my suspicions but, I just… I didn’t want to say anything because I was too afraid. Please, help me. He might come back!”
“Don’t worry, the police are on their way.” Not that Jones was any form of comfort at a time like this.
I untied Emmaline, hurriedly, and she sat down heavily on the sofa, pressing her hands to her eyes. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he actually did it.”
“Could you explain?” I had to hear the truth, right from her mouth.
“I always suspected but… we’ve been having financial troubles,” Emmaline said, “a lot of them. See, um, Franklin has a bit of, a, well, a gambling problem. He spent our life’s savings, the money we’d set aside for our retirement cruise, on paying back debts. He said that if we didn’t come up with money soon, we’d lose the house. And then I lost my job, and it was all so dire, and I just… oh, this is all my fault.”
“Can you tell me what happened, Emmaline? Was it because of the Halloween competition?”
Emmaline’s flabby cheeks quivered. She rubber her palms over them, trying to rid them of the tears. “Yes, it was that cursed Halloween competition. Frankie tried to win it every year, but it never worked out. Theresa always beat us to it. She had the mayor in her pocket, but this year, well, Frankie came up with a plan.” She swallowed. “He decided he would steal all of Theresa’s decorations and trash them, then start collecting as many for himself from the surrounding neighborhood as possible.”
“He stole Sam’s décor!”
“I did that,” Emmaline said, hanging her head. “I was just trying to make it work, but I never, not for a second, thought he would take it this far. He… he… he got into a fight with Theresa on the night of the party. I saw him walk off with her, and I assumed it was because he wanted to make sure she got back to her house OK, but he was missing for quite a while and then…” Emmaline broke into almighty sobs. “He’s ruined everything. Everything.”
So, Theresa had likely gotten angry and confronted Franklin after finding out that Emmaline had been stealing decorations, and Franklin had snapped. Money did strange things to people.
“Where is he now?” I asked. “Where’s Franklin?”
“He said he was leaving and that I was lucky he’d decided to leave me here instead of killing me. Like our marriage didn’t mean anything to him at all.”
“Do you know which route he took?” I asked, my fingers itching to hit the dial button.
“No, but he did say he was heading for the Canadian border.”
Quick as a flash, I put the call through to Jones. The detective huffed and puffed and grumbled, but the case was on. I could only trust that he would bring Franklin the murderer down before it was too late.
18
Three days later
“I’m telling you, I’m fine. I can go back on the… the… choo!” Bee sneezed into her Kleenex and dared me to say anything with a watery-eyed stare.
“That settles it,” I said. “No food truck until you’re officially free of the sneezes.”
“So not fair. I’m not infectious anymore,” Bee said. “The doctor said so.”
“He said no such thing, and your nose is dribbling again.”
“Ugh.” Bee wiped and settled back against her cushions on the bed. “This is terrible. I haven’t been out of the guesthouse in days. I’m missing all the fun.”
“The fun?”
“I didn’t get to see Franklin getting arrested.”
“True. And it was quite spectacular.”
Bee’s hazel eyes glazed over. “Tell me about it again. I love a good bedtimes story.”
“All right, but only because this one isn’t spooky.” I reached over and checked her pillow was straight, then positioned myself in one of the comfy, floral-patterned armchairs in Bee’s room. “It was the night before Halloween, and all through the—”
“C’mon, get to the good stuff.”
“So impatient.” I giggled. “All right, so turns out, Jones didn’t need to go all the way out of town to catch Franklin at all. They found him at a gas station near the cove. He’d been going in the wrong direction and had stopped to purchase a map.”
“To Canada. A map to Canada.” Bee laughed. “These are tears of joy, by the way, they’ve got nothing to do with the flu. Tell me more.”
“Like, he did have a car,” I replied, bobbling my head and imagining the tune to one of the songs in Grease. “And it’s now impounded. Franklin wanted the money from the competition, but as it happens, it wasn’t to pay off his debt. It was because he wanted to abandon poor Emmaline with all that debt and rush off across the border to start a new life.”
“That’s a special breed of idiot.”
“Indeed. A cruel one. Anyway, Jones chased Franklin halfway across the parking lot before he caught him, and what’s really funny is that neither of them are particularly fit, so it was kind of like two fluffy teddy bears chasing each other between the pumps. Detective Martin told me.”
“That has truly made my entire week. I can’t get tired of hearing that story.”
A knock sounded at the bedroom door, and Sam poked her head around it. “Hi there,” she said, “sorry to interrupt, but I thought you might like more chicken soup?”
“Again,” Bee sighed. “I’ve had enough chicken soup to last me a lifetime. So much, in fact, that I could produce it at will.”
“I definitely don’t want to know how,” I replied. “Or where it would come from.”
Sam placed the tray on the bedside table. “I know it’s boring, Bee, but it’s good for you. Besides, I put carrots and celery in it this time.”
“I’m all a-tingle with excitement.”
“Don’t mind her, Sam, she’s just upset because she’s confined to her bed.” I got up and moved over to the coffee and tea station in the corner of the room. “Can I make you a cup?”
“That would be great. That new assistant is running me ragged.”
“He is?” Butterflies tumbled through my stomach. Sam could now afford to hire extra help, in the kitchen in particular, and it was me who’d suggested she give Shawn a job. Even though he definitely had a criminal record. Turned out, it had been for breaking into restaurants and stealing food. “Is he behaving himself?”
“Oh, he’s fantastic,” Sam said. “Amazing in the kitchen. It’s just he keeps coming up with these long lists of ingredients for all the fancy dishes he wants to cook up.”
“He’s not stealing any of it, is he?” Bee asked, saying what we were all thinking.
“Nothing’s gone missing yet. I think he knows that I’m not going to be kind if he messes me around. Besides, we’ve struck an amicable deal. He can work here and get paid for it, even board in one of the smaller guest-rooms, but he’s not allowed to wear black lipstick and nail polish. Scares the guests.”
“And Trouble,” I said, as the kitten darted into the room.
The calico bounded onto the bed and settled on Bee’s feet, massaging the end of her comforter. They had struck an uneasy friendship whereby she would allow him to lie on her feet, and he would allow her to, well, have his presence.
“I’m glad everything’s working out,” I said. “I was afraid that the end of this week would be a disaster.”
“Me too.” Sam accepted a mug of coffee from me. “But, you know, it’s actuall
y been great. I won the competition, I’ve started planning a remodel for the back porch, and I have a brand new chef who cooks better than I ever could.”
“Just as long as he doesn’t make me eat anything weird,” Bee said, stifling a yawn.
I paused, offering Sam a quick wink. “How about some chicken soup?”
“Ruby Holmes, you and your smart mouth.” Bee tossed a cushion at me and I caught it, hugging it to my chest. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday next week, or I’d simply have to punish you for your teasing.”
“I thinks he learnt it from you,” Sam said.
“Don’t you start.”
We dissolved into laughter which soon turned to chatter, and for the first time all week, I finally relaxed. Carmel Springs was at peace, Bee would recover, and a cool, fall breeze whispered against the sides of the Oceanside, bringing with it the scent of the sea and the promise of more adventure to come.
Join Ruby and Bee in their next adventure, Murder and Meringue Cake, and find out what’s next for Carmel Springs.
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Also by Rosie A. Point
The Burger Bar Mystery Series:
The Fiesta Burger Murder
The Double Cheese Burger Murder
The Chicken Burger Murder
The Breakfast Burger Murder
The Salmon Burger Murder
The Cheesy Steak Burger Murder
The Burger Bar Mysteries Box Set
The Bite-sized Bakery Cozy Mystery Series:
Murder By Chocolate
Marzipan and Murder
Creepy Cake Murder
Murder and Meringue Cake