The Candy Cane Cupcake Killer (26 page)

“But—but we don't have any real evidence!” Felicity said. “It would be your word against ours. You can still afford to let us go.”

Holbrook shook his head and said, “Nah, I don't think so,” as he started to lift the gun.

With no warning, Josh lowered his head and charged like a bull. He bellowed like a bull, too, as he pounded straight at Holbrook. The landsman yelped a startled curse and pulled the trigger. The revolver went off with a boom that hurt Phyllis's ears. Josh stumbled, fell to his knees, and then pitched forward. The others stood there, frozen in shock.

Phyllis saw movement in the shadows behind Holbrook. Nick, with the fingers of his hands laced together, stepped up to the killer and swung his clubbed fists against the back of Holbrook's neck. Holbrook fell forward and jerked the revolver's trigger again. The gun exploded a second time, but this bullet went harmlessly into the dirt.

Nate moved fast. He rushed past the fallen Josh and kicked the gun out of Holbrook's hand. Then he reached down, grabbed the stunned landsman's jacket, and hauled him to his feet.

“You killed Barney!” Nate yelled as he swung a punch that landed solidly on Holbrook's jaw. Holbrook's head slewed to the side, and when he went down, it was obvious to everyone else in the barn that he was out cold. Nate stepped back, jumping up and down a little as he shook his hand and repeated, “Shoot, shoot, shoot!”

“Break it?” Nick asked.

“I think so,” Nate said, grimacing. He looked down at Holbrook's sprawled form and added, “But it was worth it.”

Phyllis was about to see how badly Josh was hurt when Felicity ran past her. The reporter's short skirt wasn't meant for kneeling on the hard-packed dirt floor of a barn, but she did so anyway as she grabbed Josh's shoulders and struggled to roll him onto his back.

“Josh!” she cried. “Josh, damn it! He shot you! Why'd you do that, you crazy fool?”

Phyllis knelt on Josh's other side and said, “I think he was trying to protect you.”

“Why would he—” Felicity's eyes got big. “You mean . . . Oh!” She still gripped Josh's shoulders. She shook him and said, “Josh!”

He opened his eyes behind the thick glasses and looked up at her. “Felicity . . .” he said. “You're all right?”

“Of course I'm all right, thanks to you!” Felicity bent down and pressed her mouth to his in an urgent, passionate kiss. After a moment Josh's hands began to wave around feebly. With a little gasp, Felicity broke the kiss and straightened. She asked him, “How bad is it? Are you going to make it?”

Phyllis sort of hated to do it, but she said, “I, ah, don't actually see any blood on him.”

“What?” Felicity said with a frown. She jerked Josh's Windbreaker open. His sweatshirt didn't show any bloodstains or bullet holes. “You're not shot?”

Still lying on his back, Josh swallowed, pushed up his glasses, and said, “I think I kind of tripped and fell just as Holbrook shot at me. He must've missed.”

“Then you're not dying?” Felicity's face darkened. “I
kissed
you! I wanted you to have a good memory to take with you!”

“It . . . it really was good,” Josh said.

“Oh!”

Felicity looked like she was about to start kicking and punching him when Phyllis said, “Whether he was hurt or not, he did risk his life to save you, Felicity. We all saw that.”

Cradling his injured hand against his chest, Nate said, “Just like we all saw Holbrook confess to Barney's murder and then try to kill us. Will that be enough to convict him?”

“With this, it ought to be,” Nick said as he retreated a few steps and picked up the video camera he had set down before coldcocking Holbrook from behind. “I got his whole confession. I saw him sneaking around the barn and figured he was up to no good, so I sneaked in after him.”

That was probably the longest speech Phyllis had ever heard the taciturn cameraman make, and she was glad to hear it.

“It'll do more than just convict Holbrook,” she said. “It'll convict Clay Loomis, too.” She smiled at Felicity and asked again, “Explosive enough for you?”

“Boom,” Felicity said.

T
he footage of Clay Loomis being arrested for conspiracy to commit murder is bound to be rerun again and again, Phyllis thought as she, Sam, Carolyn, and Eve watched it that evening for the first time. As a pale, handcuffed Loomis, jaw hanging open in shock, was put into the rear seat of a police car by Detective Isabel Largo, the camera panned back to a beautiful but solemn Felicity as she said, “This is Felicity Prosper reporting exclusively for
Inside Beat
. Be sure to watch for our upcoming special edition that will detail all the facts about this sensational case—and the crime-busting, cupcake-baking Texas granny who broke it wide open! At
Inside Beat
, our business is the truth!”

“Good Lord!” Carolyn said, as Sam used the remote to mute the TV.

“My sentiments exactly,” Phyllis said with a sigh.

“You have to admit,” Eve said, “that young woman knows
how to catch an audience's attention. Of course, the skirt doesn't hurt, either.”

Sam said, “I'm still annoyed that you didn't take me out there with you. You could've gotten yourself hurt, Phyllis.”

“And it's not the first time, either,” Carolyn said. She looked at Sam and added, “Both of you have tangled with killers before.”

“As it turned out, there wasn't time to come and get you, Sam,” Phyllis said. “If we hadn't gotten out to the ranch when we did, Holbrook might have killed Nate and made it look like suicide so he could get away with it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam grumbled. “Next time you go pokin' into a murder, though, I'm not lettin' you out of my sight.”

“With any luck, there won't be a next time.”

Carolyn snorted and asked, “Do you really believe that? Because I don't.”

Phyllis didn't know how to answer that. She supposed time would tell.

Sam said, “Just don't go chasin' murderers until I get back, all right?”

Phyllis turned on the sofa beside him and frowned at him.

“Get back?” she repeated. “Where are you going?”

“Well, I feel bad about sayin' this,” Sam replied, “but when I was talkin' to Vanessa this afternoon, she asked me to come up to Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with her and her husband and kids. I really haven't seen my grandkids much over the past few years, so I, uh, I thought I might just do that.”

Phyllis felt her heart sink a little. Mike had already told her that he and Sarah and Bobby wouldn't be here for Christmas, and now Sam was talking about being gone, too.

She caught herself immediately and told herself not to feel like that. Sam had every right to see his family. This was a good thing, in fact. Sam and his daughter weren't estranged or anything like that, but this was a chance for them to get closer again. She took his right hand in both of hers and squeezed it.

“Of course you should go,” she said. “In fact, you have to. I insist.”

“I was thinkin' . . .” He drew in a breath. “I was thinkin' you could come with me.”

Phyllis was touched and pleased that he had made the invitation, and for a second she was tempted to accept. But then she shook her head and said, “No, that might not be a good idea. You've told me about how hard Vanessa took it when her mother passed away. If I go with you, she might think I was trying to replace Vicky or something like that. You need to mend those fences and go by yourself. This time.”

“Does that mean . . . ?”

“We'll see,” Phyllis said, smiling.

“Dang right we will,” Sam said.

“In the meantime, we were already going to have an early Christmas celebration, since Mike and his family won't be here on the twenty-fifth, so we'll pick a time when you'll still be here, too, Sam. We'll just have Christmas on our own schedule this year.”

Carolyn said, “That means we'd better go ahead and get the tree and the decorations up. And start baking!”

Phyllis laughed, snuggled a little closer to Sam, and said, “That sounds good to me.”

•   •   •

Late that night, Phyllis was in the kitchen in her pajamas and bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, looking for something to eat. As far as she knew, everyone in the house was asleep. She was getting one of the gluten-free muffins left over from breakfast from the container where Carolyn had stored them when she heard footsteps in the hall.

Eve, also attired in pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers, came into the kitchen. She said, “I thought I heard you moving around, Phyllis, and I couldn't wait to give you this.” She held out a small thumb drive. “Consider it an early Christmas present, I guess . . . If you like it. If you don't, I suppose you can call this fair warning.”

Phyllis took the thumb drive and frowned in confusion.

“I don't understand,” she said. “What's on here?”

“It's a novel,” Eve said. “The novel that I've been writing.”

Phyllis stared at her and said, “A novel? I knew you'd been in your room a lot, but . . . you've been writing a novel?”

“I have, and I just finished it tonight.”

“Why, that's wonderful!” Phyllis hugged her friend. “I'm so proud of you. That's what you meant when you said there was going to be a famous author in the house. It's you!”

“Well, I don't know about that, but it
is
going to be published. A while back I sent the first few chapters to an agent, and she sold it.”

“Eve, that's incredible news.” Phyllis was smiling so broadly it made her face hurt. “We should wake up Carolyn and Sam and tell them all about it.”

Eve shook her head quickly and said, “Oh, no. In fact, I don't want you to say anything to them until you've read it. You're going to be the first.”

“Well, I'm honored, of course, and I'll be glad to read it. I'm sure I'll love it. What's it about?”

Eve hesitated, looking as though she was gathering her courage. She said, “It's about a woman who lives in a small town in Texas. She's a retired teacher, you see, and she lives in a house with some of her friends, and she . . . well, she solves crimes and catches murderers. Oh, and she bakes a lot.”

For a long moment, Phyllis couldn't find her voice. She could only stare in shock. She took a step back, found one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and sank blindly into it.

“You're serious?” she finally said.

“Yes, but if you hate the idea, I don't have to do it. I can call off the whole deal.”

Phyllis shook her head and said, “No, absolutely not. I wouldn't hear of it. I'm just . . . surprised, that's all. Who would want to read something like that?”

Eve smiled weakly and said in a hesitant voice, “I suppose I really shouldn't say anything about the movie deal . . .”

Phyllis started to laugh. She stood up, hugged her friend again, and said, “I can't wait to read it!”

Recipes

Candy Cane Cupcakes

Ingredients

1½ cups all-purpose flour

1 cup granulated sugar

1½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

½ cup plain Greek yogurt

1 large egg, room temperature

2 large egg yolks, room temperature

1½ teaspoons vanilla extract

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a standard muffin/cupcake tin for 12 muffins with paper or foil liners.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

Add the butter, yogurt, egg, egg yolks, and vanilla. Beat at medium speed until smooth, about 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula and mix by hand until all the flour is incorporated.

Divide the batter evenly among the cups. Bake until the tops are pale gold and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 20 to 24 minutes. Remove the cupcakes from the tin and transfer to a wire rack; allow to cool to room temperature.

Makes 12 cupcakes.