I open the door to Marcall’s, wondering how I’ll tell Damien what just happened. It certainly ruined my day, and I really don’t want it to ruin his. But the moment I walk in, I can tell by the looks on his and Aranya’s faces they’ve already heard.
“Unbelievable,” I say, slapping my hand to my forehead. “News moves through this town faster than the speed of light.”
“So it’s true?” Aranya cries out.
Damien points at my hands. “I’d say, given the lack of cupcakes, it is.”
Before I can completely shut the door, Miranda bursts in behind me, nearly knocking me over. Not only does news blaze through this town with lightning speed, but without fail, Miranda is always ready to pounce on the revelation. Of course, it helps that she owns the coffee shop across the street Bean Around a Bit, and she keeps an ever-watchful eye on us, lest she misses out on a juicy piece of gossip.
“Holy coffee beans, is it true? Chloe killed Morley? I don’t believe it for a second. I mean, she probably hated him enough to kill him, but I know she never would. That guy was such a jerk. But no way she killed him. Did they really drag her from the cupcake truck and arrest her?”
I’m convinced Miranda samples too much of her own product. She’s always going a mile a minute. Her spiky hair is still green today, left over from last night’s party, where she dressed as Yoda. Which, given her short stature, was perfect. As short as she and Damien are, I swear sometimes I feel like the Jolly Green Giant around here.
“They didn’t drag her from the truck,” I correct her, shaking my head. Gossip around here gets blown out of proportion just as quickly as it gets passed around in the first place. By the end of the day, they’ll be insisting that Chloe engaged in an hours-long standoff with the police, barely escaping with her life.
“You were there?” Miranda exclaims, wide-eyed and shocked.
“I was there. Drew and a CPPD officer pulled up in a squad car, knocked on the door, and asked her to come out,” then I hold my hand up to stop Miranda from telling whatever far fetched tale she’s about to repeat. “She did so willingly, and then they arrested her. You guys,” I continue, looking around at the three of them, “I don’t think she even knew why they were there. She was as shocked as the rest of us. Drew said her cupcake poisoned Morley, and that’s why he died.”
“Whoa,” Damien responds. “It wasn’t a heart attack then.”
“Not according to Drew.”
Damien winces. “I bet Drew wasn’t happy to see you at the scene.”
“Oh, you got that right, my friend. And then when I stood in their way, he was extra unhappy.”
Aranya giggles. She giggles a lot, actually. “You stood in their way?”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” I try to explain. “And then I may have told Chloe I’d get to the bottom of all of this.”
“No. No, you did not,” Damien responds. Damien is often the adult among us. He tries, usually without success, to keep Miranda and me in line. “You can’t get involved in another criminal investigation, boss.”
“You didn’t say that when I was trying to clear your cousin’s name a couple of months ago, did you?” Ha! Got him there.
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” he responds, his cheeks turning pink. “But you and I both know that Drew will be extremely unhappy if you get involved in this. He hates it when you interfere in police work.”
“She’s right,” Miranda says, stepping up to my side. “No way Chloe killed someone. Not even Morley. Besides, if she goes to prison, who will supply us with delectable cupcakes?”
Damien shakes his head. “You two will use any excuse to get in the middle of an investigation.”
“We don’t get involved on purpose,” I remind him. “These things find us.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he mutters, heading back into the kitchen area.
“Several people fought with Morley last night at the party. Not just Chloe. It could have been any of them. Remember, it was his stepdaughter Shauna who said she wished he would die. Right before he actually died,” Aranya points out.
“Yes!” Miranda exclaims, giving a little hop, clapping her hands.
“Don’t get involved with those two, Aranya!” Damien shouts from the kitchen. “They’re trouble!”
“You know we have to talk to Shauna, right?” Miranda asks.
“No, you don’t!” Damien insists, poking his head out the service window.
“We so do,” I agree. “Does anyone know where she works?”
“She works at the Fly There Travel Agency,” Aranya says.
Miranda circles her hand in the air. “To the travel agency!” she shouts.
“Wait!” I urge, grabbing Miranda’s arm. “We can’t all just go marching in there. We don’t even know her. She’ll immediately be on the defensive.”
“I know her,” Aranya says.
“To the travel agency!” Miranda shouts again.
Damien sighs so loudly in the kitchen he sounds like an inflatable raft that’s sprung a leak.