Free Dying for a Cupcake by Denise Swanson

“How about one of the other officers? She’s so freaking gorgeous. Who has naturally platinum hair and eyes that shade of violet without colored contacts? If she wasn’t my friend, I would hate her.” Ronni shook her head. “I doubt any red-blooded male could turn her down.”
    “But is it fair to get some poor schmuck in trouble with the chief for blabbing?” I really didn’t care that much about a guy who let his little head rule over his big one, but I hated to see Poppy do something that would widen the chasm between her and her father.
    “Do you have another suggestion?” Ronni narrowed her eyes and slid the tray of biscotti, amaretti, pizzelle, and cannoli out of my reach.
    “We need a tidbit of info the cops don’t know to swap for whatever they do know.” I pulled the plate of desserts back toward me.
    “But how do we get that?” Ronni wailed. “Make something up?”
    “Only as a last resort.” I dug my favorite fountain pen, a Retro 51 Tornado Lincoln, and an old envelope out of my purse. “Let’s go over what happened yesterday again.”
    “Okay.” Ronni gazed at the ceiling. “Kizzy and Lee got here around four thirty. Lee was driving. I had just gotten them settled in their respective suites when Fallon arrived in her own car. I was a little shocked at how much she resembled a younger Kizzy, and when I mentioned it, Fallon said that was one of the reasons she’d been hired, so she could stand in for Kizzy on the packaging.”
    “Interesting.”
    “Yeah. I always wondered how Kizzy never aged on the promo material.” Ronni snickered. “Anyway, I showed Fallon to her room, she dropped off her luggage, and then I helped her carry in several boxes containing stuff for the competition, which we stowed in the pantry. Afterward we had a cup of coffee while she went over Kizzy’s schedule and special requests.”
    “Did she have anything to eat or drink other than the coffee you both shared?” I asked as I nibbled on an almond macaroon.
    “No.” Ronni slowly shook her head. “And we both used the same container of cream.” She bit her lip. “Fallon did use two packets of sugar, but they were sealed. I watched her tear them open.”
    “So any food she consumed was before she arrived, and she didn’t mention feeling sick, right?” I selected a cannoli, ate the chocolate chips decorating it, then licked the powdered sugar from the top. “When you and Kizzy left for the restaurant, she was fine?”
    “Yes.” Ronni nodded emphatically. “In fact, I couldtell she was a little upset with having to wait for the delivery, because she complained about missing lunch and being hungry. I offered her a snack, but she said she was saving her daily calories for the Chinese food, specifically the crab rangoon.”
    “Then less than an hour later, she decided not to come to the Golden Dragon because she felt ill.” I tapped my pen on my notebook. “Did Lee or Kizzy mention whether Fallon tended toward hypochondria?”
    “No.” Ronni got up and started to clear the table. “I heard Lee tell the EMT that Fallon had never been sick in all the time she’d known her, and Kizzy said something similar to Chief Kincaid.”
    “Hmm.” I thought about the timeline, then asked, “Did the paramedics ask Lee if Fallon had eaten anything while she was waiting here with her?”
    “They did, and Lee said Fallon hadn’t had anything while she was present.”
    “Could you tell if Fallon had eaten anything after Lee left for the restaurant? Anything missing from the fridge or the cupboards?”
    “Nothing I noticed.” Ronni shrugged. “But I didn’t take an inventory.”
    “Hell!” I slumped in my chair. “So much for gathering info to trade with the cops.”
    “Now that I think about it, there is one thing we might know that they don’t.” Ronni chewed on a fingernail. “I doubt Kizzy told them about the fight that she, Lee, and Fallon had before we left for the restaurant.”
    “Fight?” I