Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker (Death by Cupcake Book 1) (13 page)

It
doesn’t matter if you win or lose; it’s how you bake the cupcake.

The car is quiet as Ben drives us back to the bakery. I
don’t know what everyone else is thinking, but I’m pretty much freaking out
that it’s the Saturday before classes start and we still haven’t found the
killer. I’m fairly certain that I can get my defense attorney to make a stink
with the University administration, but I was hoping to avoid a controversy. I
don’t want to rock any boats before I have a permanent teaching position. It’s
not like there are tons of other lecture positions available for a PhD in
German literature in the Midwest.

Ben parks in the alley behind the bakery, and we all climb
silently out of the car. I’m following Anna into the bakery, but she turns
around and stops me. “I’ll make sure everything’s taken care of. Just get some
rest. See you on Monday.”

The bakery is closed on Sundays during the summer, but
instead of looking forward to my last Sunday to sleep in for a few months, I’m
nearly coming apart at the seams. Ben grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs
to my apartment. Once he’s checked to make sure the boogeyman isn’t lurking
about, I walk to the sofa and collapse on it.

“Do you have everything ready for Monday?” Ben asks as he sits
next to me.

“Are you out of your mind? Ready for Monday? I don’t even
know if I’m going to be teaching ever again, let alone on Monday, which is in
two days.” My voice has risen to shrieking levels by the time I finish my
tirade.

Ben pulls me close. “Shhh, beautiful. You’ll be teaching on
Monday. Don’t you worry about that.”

I start to ask how he can possibly believe that, but before
I can manage to get the words out, his lips are on mine. After a few minutes,
Ben pulls away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“Who says you’re taking advantage?” I ask as I pull him back
to me. A sexy distraction is just what the doctor ordered.

♥♥♥

I hear Ben humming in the shower the next morning and sigh.
I would love to join him in there, but there’s no way I’m ready to show him my
body in the bright bathroom lighting. It’s a flipping miracle that I managed to
have sex with the hot man during the late afternoon in the living room on the
sofa and not on the bed buried under the covers.

I head to the kitchen to make breakfast instead, but it
turns out there’s nearly no food in the refrigerator. Ben has completely
cleaned me out. That man sure can eat. I’ll just run down to the bakery and
pick up some leftover muffins or something. I debate waiting and asking Ben to
walk me to the bakery, but that’s beyond silly. The bakery’s back door is
literally five steps away from the entrance to my apartment.

I leave my pajamas on but pull on some shoes and grab my
keys before rushing down the stairs. I sprint from my door to the bakery
entrance. I quickly raid the refrigerator filling a bag with any and all kinds
of leftover treats. I should be upstairs and back in the kitchen before Ben
even realizes I’m gone.

A car revs its engine as I walk out the back door. I’m fumbling
with the keys when I hear the engine rev again. It’s way too early for such
theatrics. I turn around to give the driver a dirty look just in time to see
the car barreling its way through the alley. The alley is barely wide enough
for a car and the driver of this car doesn’t seem to have the control necessary
to handle the narrow pathway with such speeds.

The engine revs again and the car picks up even more speed.
I catch a glimpse at the driver and gasp. She looks like the doctor’s wife. No
way am I going to stand here and find out. I let go of my keys and run towards
my apartment door. I glance back, and the car seems to be aiming right for me.
My sticky hands can’t get the door open. Another peek behind me shows the car
is even closer. Is she actually aiming for me? I drop the pastry bag and use
two hands to pull the door open. 

I just make it inside as the car clips the dumpster on the
opposite side of alley. I hear a crunching sound before brakes screech, and
something slams into the outside wall. I open the door and peek outside. The
car is rammed against the wall just a few feet beyond my door where it
apparently crashed. The driver opens her door and stumbles out.

“You,” she shouts and points at me. She rushes towards me
but before I have time to react, Ben comes flying down the stairs dressed only
in cut-off sweats and carrying a gun. He grabs my arm and pulls me inside.
“Stay here,” he demands, and I can only nod because the tone of his voice
leaves no room for arguing.

Ben runs outside on bare feet, and I hear a scuffle. I’m
still following Ben’s order to stay if I open the door a smidge, aren’t I? I
peek outside to see the woman face down on the ground with Ben securing her
hands with cuffs. Where did he get those handcuffs? He hauls her up and turns
to see me staring at him.

“Bakery open?”

I have no idea. Did I lock up? I can’t remember what
happened after I heard the engine revving and saw the car rushing down the
alley. I exit the safety of my apartment door and walk the short steps to the
bakery. My keys are still in the lock. I pull the door wide open and wait for
Ben to enter. He drags the woman, who I can now see is definitely Beth
Abrahams, inside.

“Can you grab me my cell phone from upstairs?” he asks as he
shoves the doctor’s wife into a chair. I nod and run to my apartment. I grab
his phone and start to head back to the bakery before shaking my head and going
back to grab a shirt and shoes for Ben as well. He may be perfectly happy
parading his beautiful body to the rest of the world, but it turns out I’m the
jealous type.

I return to the bakery and Ben smirks when he sees the
t-shirt and shoes in my hands. He grabs the shirt and pulls it on before
quickly sending a text message. He tucks his shirt in his shorts so that the
badge pinned to his shorts is clearly visible. Where did he have that hidden?
Finally, he turns to me and asks, “What happened?”

I point at Beth Abrahams. “I think she just tried to run me
over.” 

Beth struggles against the handcuffs. “You ruined everything!”
she shrieks.

Ben raises a hand to Beth to stop her from speaking. “Hold
up. Before you speak further, I’m going to read you your rights.” I jump onto
one of the counters while Ben reads Beth her rights. I feel my own cell phone
in the pocket of my pajamas and get an idea. Maybe if I record what Beth has to
say the detectives will finally believe me, and I can get my teaching position
back. I pull my phone out and hit the record button before setting it down next
to me.

“Do you understand these rights as I’ve explained them?” Ben
asks as he finishes Mirandizing Beth.

She nods. “Of course, I understand my rights. I’m not an
idiot.”

I snort because I beg to differ. Ben gives me a look which
clearly tells me to be quiet. I pretend to zip my lips shut. He rolls his eyes
and shakes his head at me before turning back to Beth. “You want to tell me
what you were doing here this morning?”

Beth rolls her eyes. “Obviously, I was trying to get rid of
her.” She points at me with her head and snarls at me.

I start to respond to her, but Ben holds up his hand. I huff
and cross my arms over my chest. “Get rid of her how?”

Beth snorts. “Get rid of her so she can’t stop butting her
head in where it doesn’t belong.”

Ben crosses his arms over his chest and stares her down. “So
you admit you tried to kill Callie Muller?”

“And I would have been successful too, if it weren’t for
you. Who knew the heifer was shacked up with a cop?”

Ben ignores her nasty remark. “Why do you want to kill Dr.
Muller?”

Beth glares at me. “Because she’s ruining everything. She
should have just kept her nose out of my business.”

I can’t keep quiet at that. “You tried to frame me for
murder. I didn’t want anything to do with all of this. You’re the one that
involved me.” I try to jump off the counter and go after her, but Ben’s there
holding me back.

“Stay calm and be quiet, or I’m going to have to ask you to
leave.” I just stare at him. “I shouldn’t be questioning her. It’s not my case,
but I know you want answers.” My eyes widen, and I nod. I don’t want him to
endanger his career, but I do need answers. Ben stares at me. When he’s sure
I’ve settled down, he nods and moves away.

“Did you kill Claire Horne?”

Tears well up in Beth’s eyes, and she nods. “Yes, I killed
Dolly.”

I can’t help the word
Why
from slipping from my mouth.

Beth sniffles and stares at the floor. “I loved Dolly. We’ve
been together for a year. I took care of her; paid for her apartment, clothes,
car. Anything she wanted, I gave her. But it was never enough. She promised…,”
her words turn harsh. “She promised she would stop turning tricks. I knew she
worked at the strip club, but I really believed her when she said that was all.
That I was the only one.” She shakes her head. “I was so stupid.”

“What happened?” Ben asks in a gentle voice.

“I found out she slept with my husband. I confronted her,
and she just laughed.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “She laughed,”
she repeats the words in a strangled voice. She turns a glare on Ben. “She said
she didn’t love me, and she preferred
dick
anyway. She was using me.”
She takes a few deep breathes before continuing. “So, she had to go.”

“Why did you try to frame Callie?”

Beth shrugs. “It seemed like the easy way out. Dolly was
complaining about Callie keying her car. She had no idea it was really me that
did it.” 

There’s a knock at the back door, and I look to Ben.
“That’ll be the detectives,” he explains before going to the door to open it
for Duchamps and Smits. The detectives take in the scene with wide eyes. Ben
doesn’t give the men a chance to start an inquisition. “This is Beth Abrahams.
She tried to run Callie over with her car this morning and just confessed to
the murder of Claire Horne.”

I stop the recording on my phone. “I’ve got it all on here,”
I say as I shake my phone at the group.

The detectives spring into action. In less than five
minutes, the place is swarming with uniforms. Several of the officers are
outside taking pictures of Beth’s car while a tow truck backs into the alley.
Two officers come into the bakery to escort Beth to the back of their patrol
car. I just stand and watch the circus. A half hour later the place is empty
once again.

Ben picks me up and twirls me around. “Told you it would all
work out.”

You
are the icing on my cupcake.

I nearly skip to my classroom the next day. Even after Beth
Abrahams was arrested for the murder of Claire Horne yesterday, I wasn’t sure
if I my teaching position was secure. I was beyond excited when I received an
email this morning from Dean Jorgenson outlining my class schedule and
classroom locations.

I’m a bit disappointed that my first Intro to German Lit
class is in the big lecture hall. I was hoping for a more intimate setting, but
beggars can’t be choosers. I stop as I arrive at the door of the classroom. I’m
worried when I see that the room beyond is dark. Maybe I’m at the wrong room
after all? I open the door anyway and turn on the lights.

“Surprise!” I nearly pee my pants and end up dropping my
books when I hear the shouting. I look around and see the lecture hall is
completely packed. I see former students, other professors and lecturers, as
well as the bakery’s regular customers, including a bunch of cops who enjoy a
free cup of coffee now and again.

Ben moves away from the group and comes to give me a big
hug. “What’s going on?” I ask as he squeezes me.

“We wanted to do something special for you,” he says as he
looks out at the group of people. “You deserve a party after what you’ve been
through the past weeks.”

I shake my head, and he releases me from his hug before
pulling me into his side with an arm over my shoulder. “But how did you arrange
this? I didn’t even know if I would be teaching until this morning.”

“That’s my fault,” Fred Advocaat confesses as he moves
forward. “I’ve actually been in contact with the dean for some time. Ben hired
me to make sure you kept your position.”

I turn my gaze on Ben who is blushing. “Why didn’t you tell
me?” I ask and slap him in his chest. That was a mistake. His chest is rock
hard.

He leans down and kisses me. “I told you it would all work
out.” 

“Let’s get this party started!” Anna shouts. I look over to
where she’s standing and see an enormous cake. Ben releases me, and I walk over
to Anna. I laugh when I see the cake she’s baked. It’s a sheet cake with a
large
Get Out of Jail Free
Monopoly card outlined in icing on top.

I hear the distinct pop of a champagne cork and turn to see
Dean Jorgenson pouring champagne into plastic cups. “Is that allowed?” I ask
with a smirk.

The dean shrugs. “You’re not the only one that can flaunt
the rules, you know.” I grab a cup from him and take a sip. It’s champagne all
right. He raises his cup to me and winks.

Instead of spending the hour introducing students to the
greats of German literature we’ll be studying over the semester, I eat cake,
drink champagne, and laugh. Man, it feels good. Everyone is slowly saying their
goodbyes and leaving when Ben grasps my hand, grabs a bottle of unopened
champagne and two plastic cups before dragging me to the top of the lecture
hall.

I sit in one of the chairs, and Ben drops down beside me. He
opens the bottle and fills the cups with the sparkling wine. “So,” he says and
squirms in his chair. “I’ve got something to ask you.” I nod for him to proceed.
“I’m not moving out.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Are you asking or telling?”

He puts his cup down and turns to me. “Beautiful,” he says
as he cups my cheek with his hand. “I’ll beg if you want me to.” He doesn’t
give me a chance to respond before his lips are crashing down on mine.

“Are you sure?” I ask as I pull away from the kiss. “We’ve
only been dating for a few weeks. This is a big step.” I’m not going to say
anything about him being way out of my league. He has proven – time and again –
that he doesn’t care if I’m a bit chubby even though he is a brown-eyed Adonis.
For once in my life, I’m going to believe that my size doesn’t matter.

“Sweetheart,” he says as he pulls me off my chair and into
his lap. “I’ve known you’re mine for a year. I can’t help it if you’re
slow.”