Free Sprinkle with Murder by Jenn McKinlay Page B

Tate since we were kids. I don’t, I never have, I never will.”
She watched as Uncle Stan seemed to relax just the littlest bit at this news.
“So you were at her shop to go over the flavors of cupcakes you’d baked?” he asked.
“Yes,” Mel said, feeling relief that someone was finally listening to her.
“Did you bring them over this morning?”
“No, two of her employees came by and picked them up yesterday.”
“Which employees?”
“Two young women named Alma and Phoebe.”
Uncle Stan’s eyebrows moved again, and she’d have bet her secret for moist cupcakes (use oil, not butter) that he was thinking about Alma’s surly attitude. He made a note in his pad.
“What were some of the flavors?” Rayburn asked.
Mel felt him walk behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder; he was examining the area around her triple-basin steel sink. She knew it was unreasonable, but she was not liking him very much.
“There were five different kinds, a chocolate cupcake with cherry filling, a lemon coconut . . . um . . . can I ask why you’re interested in this?”
Uncle Stan opened his mouth to answer when he was interrupted by a voice at the door.
“He probably wants the recipe. He’s the only detective I know who relaxes by watching the Food Network.”
Mel spun around. Joe DeLaura was standing in the doorway. His dark blue suit fit him perfectly and added to his aura of authority. Detective Rayburn straightened up at the sight of him.
“What can I say? Kitchen wizardry runs in the family,” Uncle Stan said as he reached out to shake Joe’s extended hand.
“Oh, please, I’ve tasted your meat loaf. It’s only good for use as a doorstop,” Joe said.
Uncle Stan looked put out and Mel laughed, feeling the tension in the room evaporate.
Uncle Stan adjusted his belt around his middle as he said, “Need I remind you who invited the new fire chief over to his house for a barbecue and then lit his backyard on fire?”
To Mel’s surprise, Joe laughed out loud, and she was momentarily distracted by how handsome he was. His laugh was deep, and she felt it rumble through her own chest, causing her to smile even though she was clearly not in on the joke.
She couldn’t help but notice that once again, Joe had appeared just when she needed him.
“So what brings you here?” Uncle Stan asked.
“Cupcakes. Well, that, and it’s my turn to check up on Angie,” Joe said. “Don’t tell her I said that, though, or she’ll get cranky. Hey, have you tried their Blonde Bombshell? It’s amazing.”
Mel felt herself flush with pleasure, but Uncle Stan exchanged an uncertain look with Rayburn and then nodded.
“Joe, can I have a word with you?” he asked. “Outside?”
“Sure,” he said and turned to Mel. “Tell Ange to save me one of those raspberry things out there. You’ve got a crowd, and they’re going fast.”
“Will do.” Mel tried not to feel abandoned when they disappeared, leaving her with the gangly detective.
Rayburn asked her about the flavors of the cupcakes she’d made for Christie, when she’d made them, and if she had a list of ingredients. He also asked if she had any more, and she went into the walk-in to check. There were a few of each. She showed the detective and then watched in horror as he pulled on gloves and bagged the cupcakes. This could not be good.
When Joe came back, he didn’t look as if he’d been laughing. She felt nervous again, as if something was happening but no one was telling her exactly what.
“I think we’re done here, Mel,” Uncle Stan said. “If you think of anything I ought to know, call me.”
“I will,” she said as she gave him a quick hug.
“I’ll walk this disgrace to the culinary arts out,” Joe said, and then turned back. “Don’t forget my cupcake.”
“Oh, right.” Mel went to the display case. She tried to see through the window, but they went the other way. Damn
“What’s going on?” Angie asked, not bothering to hide her concern.
“I don’t know,” Mel answered. “They had a lot of questions about the cupcakes I made for