Cupcakes and Crime, page 1
Cupcakes and Crime
Gold Valley Mysteries Book 1
April Browne
Contents
Author’s Note
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
Thank you
Book 2: Weddings and Wickedness
About the Author
Author’s Note
Hey, new reader friend!
This book is just the first of many witchy adventures, so make sure to keep in touch to find out about my upcoming books.
I offer my reader group sneak peeks, the occasional giveaway, adorable dog pictures, and many other cool things that are just for my inner circle of readers. Follow me on Facebook or join my email list.
April
Copyright © 2020 by April Browne
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Cupcakes and Crime
Gold Valley Mysteries, Book 1
By April Browne
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Cover Design by Melody Simmons
License Notes
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold.
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Published by April Browne. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, contact April Browne at AprilBrowneFiction@gmail.com
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For more information please visit AprilBrowneFiction.com
Created with Vellum
1
Sophia Bell, like her mother before her, was a baker and a witch. Unlike Mama Ginger, she wasn’t very good at either. Oh, she could follow a recipe well enough to keep the family bakery from going under, but ask her to create anything new, and it always flopped.
She’d tried her hand at gluten-free chocolate chip cookies a couple weeks earlier, and they’d come out crumbly and dry no matter what she did. Batch after batch failed until her assistant Lemon had found a good recipe online.
And her magic was even worse. Sophia couldn’t do a real spell to save her life. Mama had worked spells as well as kitchen magic. But not Sophia.
Sophia had inherited the kitchen magic, but she was first to admit her control could be better. The main difference between Sophia’s magic and a couple bottles of wine was that Sophia’s magic didn’t come with a hangover. She could add a dose of emotion or an urge to act to whatever she cooked. Joy or happiness if she could help it, but more often than not, her cookies and cupcakes were served with an extra helping of honesty.
Mama Ginger used to tell her the world could do with more honesty, but Sophia wasn’t so sure. Honesty caused more trouble than anything else as far as she was concerned. And she hadn’t been careful with that sample batch of cupcakes she’d sent the winery the day before. They had enough honesty baked in to cause some disastrous confessions.
The only thing she received a full helping of was the family curse. Sophia had driven off every man she was interested in—and it took her even less time than it had Mama Ginger. Or maybe that was the doughboy body.
Sophia wasn’t sure and she didn’t want to risk sharing a batch of honesty cupcakes with any of her exes. She didn’t need to find out about their current girlfriends and wives. Not to mention, the curse always made men think breaking up was their idea. That was how it worked.
Accelerating as much as she dared with cupcakes and pastries loaded in the back of the delivery van, Sophia jammed her foot down on the gas. The rolling hills of Gold Valley threatened to jolt her cupcakes out of the compartments in their carriers.
Still, if the student had bothered to read the sign when she came in or listened to Sophia’s warning, then Sophia would have been out of the shop on time. Instead, she was racing past rows and rows of grapevines, desperate to make it to Magnolia Winery on time.
And the girl must have been comfortable. Sophia had announced three times she was closing early. On top of that, when Sophia had finally gotten through to her, the girl had taken her sweet time gathering up her things and even stopped by the bathroom before she finally left.
At least Sophia had gotten the last laugh when the girl demanded to see the manager.
“Turn right in fifty feet,” the GPS announced.
Sophia slammed on the brakes, praying the cupcakes stayed still, and turned onto Magnolia Winery’s gravel drive.
A spray of gravel flew into the air. She almost clipped one of the giant magnolia trees lining the driveway and had to jerk the wheel. The trees still had a few pink flowers nestled between their dark, shiny leaves. In the shadows of the trees, the van wobbled. The driver’s side lifted into the air.
Sophia held her breath.
The wheels thumped back to the ground. Once she was sure it was settled, she inched down the long gravel driveway to the nearly empty parking lot. Three years driving this monstrosity and it still got away from her.
In the shade of a tree, Lemon leaned against her blue Honda and sipped from a sparkly, pink travel-cup. How she could stand the heat was beyond Sophia. Maybe it had to do with the sweet tea she drank almost constantly.
Sophia pulled the van to a lurching stop near her friend.
Lemon guffawed, dark skin crinkling up around her eyes and her whole body getting in on the laugh. “Girl, you sure do know how to make an entrance.”
“You’re just jealous.” Sophia stuck out her tongue and yanked the key out of the ignition, but the summer heat smacked her in the face.
She’d been back home for three long years but still wasn’t used to the burning summer sun. Or maybe getting older made it harder to handle the heat. She started the van back up so the cupcakes wouldn’t overheat in the back while she and Lemon unloaded them.
“Oh yeah. I could never drive a delivery van that fast and still show up late.” Lemon followed Sophia to the rear of the van.
“Yeah, yeah. This brat at the bakery refused to pack up and go.” Sophia and Lemon each grabbed a cupcake carrier.
“I’m sure you Mama Gingered her right out of there.”
“She said we never close until seven on Saturdays.” Sophia slammed the van door. “When I told her we were closing at one for a special event, she asked to talk to my manager.”
“And you told her you were the owner.” Lemon let out a whoop of laughter, which eased Sophia’s nerves. “Don’t worry, girl, you’re right on time. We better figure out where this Leslie Harper wants your cupcakes.”
Sophia and Lemon headed towards the main tasting room, passing a handful of small tables in the garden. The tables still needed to be set, but that wasn’t Sophia’s job. She was just there for the cupcakes.
Next to the main entrance was a long flat bar, made of three wine barrels spaced about six feet apart with a rustic wooden board running across their tops. A piece of cardboard folded to make a sign sat on top.
When they reached the door, Lemon groaned and pointed at the improvised sign. It read, “Cupcakes here.”
“Do they want the frosting to melt off before anyone even gets here?” Sophia asked. “Whose idea was this, anyway?”
“I’ll start unloading the cupcakes here, but you’d better go find someone to set up a table inside.”
“Don’t you dare open those carriers until you put up your tea and wash your hands.” Sophia squinted past the door.
“What? Am I Makayla?” Lemon asked.
“Sorry. I know you know what you’re doing. It’s just I can’t believe someone would hire us to make these cupcakes, then stick them in this heat to melt.” Sophia headed into the tasting room. Compared to the dazzling summer light outside, Sophia’s eyes couldn’t make sense of the dark room. Once her eyes adjusted, she stomped to the kitchen to find someone to help her.
Just as she put her hand on the kitchen door, it swung open, nearly hitting her. She jumped aside and glared at the man who’d shoved the door open with his back. A stack of serving plates pinned against his paunch threatened to topple over.
“You the baker, chubs?” he asked, letting the door swing shut behind him.
“I am.” Sophia smoothed down her apron, trying to keep a lid on her irritation. Didn’t he know redheads were famous for their tempers? His rude attitude and looks seemed familiar, if only she could place him. “I’m looking for Leslie.”
“What do you want?” He rushed to the opposite end of the room.
“Leslie’s the one who hired me. I should really talk to her.” Sophia stood by the kitchen door.
“She’s supposed to be setting up the party. Instead, you’ve got me.” He dropped the stack of plates onto a small table at the end of the tasting counter, then held out his hand. “Ken Wales, general manager.”
No wonder he looked familiar. Ken Wales was the star quarterback who had led the team to its last state championship during Sophia’s freshman year of high school. He’d been a bully then too.
“What happened to Leslie?” So
“Who knows?” He stomped back into the kitchen. “Now, what do you want?”
“I’m sorry, but the cupcakes shouldn’t be outside in this heat.” She followed him into the kitchen. “The frosting will melt. There’s got to be somewhere inside—”
“Sorry, chubs, there isn’t. And I’ve got a million things to do before the party starts.” He dumped a bag of crostini onto a plate, then scooped some pre-made artichoke dip into a fancy serving bowl.
Sophia bit back a dozen names she wanted to call him and took a deep breath. How would Mama Ginger have treated this guy? He was a customer after all. And sometimes they were rude, especially when they were stressed.
“Look, you’re paying for custom cupcakes. If I don’t set them up inside, the frosting will melt, and they’ll look like a mess instead of magnolia blooms, roses, or grapes.”
“If you want to put the cupcakes somewhere else, you figure it out. Folding tables and tablecloths are in that closet.” He pawed at the crostini but failed to make it presentable. “Half the servers are late, and who knows where Leslie is?”
Sophia scrambled to the closet, dragged the folding table across the room, and set it beside the table that Ken had dumped the plates on. She tugged a white tablecloth into place, then rushed outside to get Lemon.
“You took your time,” Lemon said, barely glancing up as she arranged the chocolate cupcakes with rose shaped frosting in the small flowerpots. The cupcake tree was out but empty. And she’d unloaded only the minimum number of cupcakes from the delivery van, which was still running.
“Sorry. I couldn’t find Leslie, but I set us up a table inside next to the hors d’oeuvres.” Sophia grabbed the droopy cupcakes. “We can put most of the cupcakes in the refrigerator.”
“Soph, we’ve got twenty minutes before the party starts.” Lemon put her hands on her hips.
“Then we’d better get moving.”
Somehow, they finished in time for the party. Things were going great. The mayor herself even sampled one of Sophia’s Never the Rose cupcakes and smacked her lips like a little kid. “These are delicious!”
“Thank you so much. Mama Ginger’s can cater city func—”
A microphone shrieked. Sophia jumped.
“Well, I guess this thing is on.” A hawkish woman stood behind the microphone, holding a glass of wine in one hand. Dark hair fell around her face, making her features even more pointed. She smiled, and the tension seemed to melt away as she started her performance. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Amy Thompson, and I am pleased to announce the opening of Magnolia Winery.”
The crowd clapped and more guests filtered in at the edges. Still no sign of Leslie Harper. She’d acted so put together when she’d hired Sophia, which made it hard to imagine what had made her miss the winery opening. Whatever it was, it must have been important.
“I’ve loved wine since before I was old enough to legally drink it.” Amy paused for the audience to produce the required chuckle. “Wine was always a part of life in our family. My father built cabinets, tables, and whatever else the local wineries asked him to. Growing up, the winery owners always gave him bottles whenever he remodeled one of their kitchens or tasting rooms.”
Around her, several people nodded as if they knew Amy’s father and his work. While she listened, Sophia traced her fingers over the magnolia tree embroidered on the tablecloth.
“Even as a kid, I was fascinated with the smells and the beautiful bottles that he brought home. He and my mom would chase me away and tell me I could taste it when I was older.”
This Amy didn’t know how lucky she had it with a stable home and two parents to chase her out of the kitchen and keep her occupied.
“Wine, though, is only my second love.” Amy turned towards the bald man beside her, presumably her husband given the huge ring on her left hand, and Sophia felt jealous. The family curse meant she’d never have a long-lasting romance.
“My first love is, and has always been, my painting. Which this winery will give breath to. I hope that the wine can fuel your creativity as it has mine.”
Her painting? Sophia blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“Oh my gosh!” the mayor gasped. “Look at Joel’s face.”
The bald man’s mouth hung open. He looked like he’d been sucker punched, perhaps even more so than Sophia and the audience. Hadn’t Amy practiced her speech with him? Had she changed it just to hurt him?
The party kicked off in earnest then. The musicians started playing a light jazz number. Sophia carried a tray of cupcakes around for guests to sample. The servers had finally shown up or maybe Ken had brow-beaten a temp agency into sending people last minute. Sophia was tempted to drink a glass of wine, but she knew better. She was there for work, not pleasure.
When she caught Lemon reaching for a glass, Sophia shot her a look from across the room. She didn’t need to make Lemon go wash her hands again.
The cupcakes went much faster than the pathetic hors d’oeuvres, which had Sophia running back and forth to the kitchen.
“This is it.” Sophia arranged the last of the Never the Rose, grapevine, and special ordered magnolia cupcakes on the table. “There’s just one more case in there, and then we’re off the hook.”
“Thank goodness,” Lemon said. “All this wine, and there are even some cute guys who might be—”
“I’m not looking, Lem.”
“And why not? You deserve a little fun sometimes.”
“It’s not like I’ve got time—”
Lemon rolled her eyes and cut Sophia off, mimicking Sophia’s voice. “What with the bakery and everything.”
“It’s true.” But even Sophia laughed at Lemon’s impression.
“It’s not true and you know it. You’ve got to make time for fun, or you’ll never find the time.” Lemon put her hands on her hips.
“So you say, but I don’t have a time turner or any magic spells to get more hours in the day. I’ve got the same twenty-four hours in a day as everyone else, and someone’s got to keep this bakery going.”
Lemon shrugged and returned to her job handing out cupcakes to the guests. When those were nearly gone, Sophia excused herself back to the kitchen and pushed open the door.
Harsh industrial lighting burned Sophia’s eyes. She blinked them into focus.
On the far side of the kitchen, Amy and Joel glared at each other.
Sophia froze.
“It’s not my fault!” Joel folded in on himself as if he were trying to disappear.
“Then whose is it?” Amy flung her glass of wine at Joel’s feet. Red liquid splashed everywhere like drops of blood. “You’re useless. I can’t even ask you to do a simple thing like make an appetizer.”
2
Mouth suddenly dry, Sophia froze in the doorway. She wanted to back out slowly and send someone else into the kitchen instead, but her legs had turned into iron bars, locked into place.
“I’m sorry.” Joel shrunk away from his wife. “I had to corral the musicians, set up the podium, and greet all the guests.”
“So what?” Amy advanced on him.
The door weighed heavy on Sophia’s back. It may as well have been a steel trap for all that she could move. She shouldn’t be hearing this. With the door open, could the people in the tasting room hear too?
“I didn’t have time to do the appetizers.” Joel backed into the wall and his mouth formed a little O of surprise. “Leslie was supposed to be here to direct everyone we hired for the event. She’s the party planner, not me.”
Sophia should say something. Clear her throat. Something. Let them know she was there. But her throat felt drier than extra brut champagne. Her armpits, on the other hand, felt a little soggy.
