Gum Drop Dead: Cupcake Truck Mysteries

  Gum Drop Dead

  Emily James

  Stronghold Books

  Copyright © 2020 by Emily James

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. It’s okay to quote a small section for a review or in a school paper. To put this in plain language, this means you can’t copy my work and profit from it as if it were your own. When you copy someone’s work, it’s stealing. No one likes a thief, so don’t do it. Pirates are not nearly as cool in real life as they are in fiction.

  For permission requests, write to the author at the address below.

  Emily James

  [email protected]

  www.authoremilyjames.com

  This is a work of fiction. I made it up. You are not in my book. I probably don’t even know you. If you’re confused about the difference between real life and fiction, you might want to call a counselor rather than a lawyer because names, characters, places, and incidents in this book are a product of my twisted imagination. Real locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, and institutions is completely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Mariah Sinclair at www.mariahsinclair.com

  Published December 2020 by Stronghold Books

  Print Book ISBN: 978-1-988480-28-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-988480-27-5

  Contents

  Also by Emily James

  Free Tips for Amazing Cupcakes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Letter from the Author

  Maple Syrup Mysteries

  Recipe: Mango-Coconut Cupcake

  About the Author

  Also by Emily James

  Maple Syrup Mysteries

  Sapped: A Maple Syrup Mysteries Prequel

  A Sticky Inheritance

  Bushwhacked

  Almost Sleighed

  Murder on Tap

  Deadly Arms

  Capital Obsession

  Tapped Out

  Bucket List

  End of the Line

  Slay Bells Ringing

  (also contains a Cupcake Truck Mystery novella)

  Rooted in Murder

  Guilty or Knot

  Stumped

  Cupcake Truck Mysteries

  Sugar and Vice

  Dead Velvet Cake

  Gum Drop Dead

  A Sampling of Murder (coming February 2021)

  Poison-Spiced Cupcakes (coming April 2021)

  Free Tips for Amazing Cupcakes

  Each book in the Cupcake Truck Mysteries includes a cupcake recipe, but even when you have a great recipe, baking the perfect cupcake can sometimes be hard.

  To receive the top 10 tips for amazing cupcakes (inspired by the Cupcake Truck Mysteries sleuth, Isabel), sign up for my newsletter at www.subscribepage.com/cupcakes.

  (If you’re already a member of my newsletter, no need to worry. I’ve emailed you a link to the tips too!)

  1

  Working in the food truck I’d leased after mine was burned to the ground still felt like wearing someone else’s underwear. Until the insurance company sorted everything out, though, leasing was all I could afford.

  My business partner Claire turned around, her arms full of a tray of cheddar, basil, and peach muffins. I grabbed the tray right before it smashed into my midsection. Having a second person in the truck with me was going to take some getting used to.

  And as if working in a strange truck and working together for the first time wasn’t enough, we’d decided to make our debut of savory “cupcakes” at the hot air balloon festival.

  Claire let out a huff. “This will be easier once we have a routine. It’ll just take us some time.”

  She said it like I’d already suggested dissolving our trial partnership. It’d take something more than a few stepped on toes and ribs in elbows for me to give up on the idea.

  I could get more catering jobs with savory options in my repertoire…and Claire needed the money. She still hadn’t found a full-time job after months of trying, and even with me renting her spare room, she wouldn’t be able to keep her house. Not unless she either got a job or her skeezie, cheating husband decided to divorce her and pay her alimony rather than continuing to live with his new girlfriend. Nope, I wasn’t going to leave a friend to struggle, even if helping wasn’t feeling convenient all the time.

  “It’ll help if we can eventually get a bigger truck too,” I said.

  Leasing had required me to downsize to a smaller truck. The insurance company claimed it wouldn’t be much longer before they’d pay out my policy. Apparently, they’d never dealt with a case before where the vandal had also been a murderer who’d stolen a vehicle and set it on fire to frame someone else. My insurance agent claimed that was creating some unique challenges since the criminal case was ongoing.

  I couldn’t see how. My truck was stolen and destroyed. The details shouldn’t have mattered. It probably served me right for going with the cheapest policy I could find. At the time, I hadn’t been able to afford anything better.

  Claire made an affirmative noise, but her attention was already on making sure the chalkboards where we displayed our menu and prices were set at the perfect angle. A few months ago, her apparent fussiness might have driven me batty. Now I saw it for what it was. Claire dealt with nerves by controlling everything she could.

  “Excuse me,” a man’s nasally voice said. “I have a question about one of your products.”

  I set aside the bowl of buttercream I’d been scooping into a piping bag and stepped closer to the counter.

  I almost stepped backward again. His skin was both pasty and puffy, and his nose and the skin surrounding it were red. The hand he’d rested on the counter clutched a tissue that I could only pray was clean. He looked like he ought to be home in bed rather than walking around a hot air balloon festival, sharing his germs with everyone he came close to. Especially given he looked to be in his sixties.

  I forced my lips into a pleasant, welcoming smile. “Which product?”

  The man sniffled. “Your tropical cupcake. I want to make sure it doesn’t have any lime juice or zest in it.” He waved his hand frantically around his head. “And you really should do something about all these flies.”

  I barely stopped myself from glancing at Claire. Unless I needed glasses, there weren’t any flies. The day wasn’t even warm enough for them yet, the morning unseasonably cool for August. Maybe he was high or drunk rather than sick.

  But I couldn’t assume that was also why he asked about lime. He might have an allergy.

  “The tropical cupcakes are mango curd and coconut. No lime or citrus of any kind.”

  He puckered his face up as if he were holding back a sneeze. It went on so long that I shifted my weight, and Claire glanced in my direction.

  Finally, he breathed out. “I’ll take one of those.”

  Not what I would
have expected for six o’clock in the morning, but to each his own. I’d eaten cupcakes for every meal of the day and almost every time in between, so I really wasn’t one who could judge. Our tropical cupcakes didn’t even look healthy, though. They were covered in toasted coconut and orange and yellow gum drops.

  He paid, and I handed him the cupcake, making sure not to brush his fingers. Whatever he had, I didn’t want to catch it. He swatted at the flies that only he could see and took a bite. Then he turned his back to us, but he didn’t move away, as if he were waiting for someone.

  A shorter man, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt that read Cloud Chaser Balloons, huffed toward us. He carried a hat in his hand.

  “There you are,” Sniffle Man said. “I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”

  The shorter man crushed his hat. “I’m trying to do you a favor.”

  His voice was soft, but his hat didn’t look like it would survive the encounter. I felt a little like the emotional version of a Peeping Tom. But it wasn’t like Claire and I could move our truck away. Unless the men left, we were basically trapped spectators.

  I glanced at Claire to see if I could mime should I clear my throat and remind them we’re here? Claire studiously wiped down the counter, even though she’d wiped it down before our odd first customer showed up. She didn’t look up. Apparently her tactic for the situation was denial.

  I couldn’t do that. I’d spent too much time being hypervigilant to be able to pretend that whatever was happening between the two men wasn’t happening.

  Sniffle Man swiped his tissue across the bottom of his nose. “It doesn’t feel like much of a favor. I don’t know why I even agreed to come.”

  “Because—” The shorter man’s head snapped toward our truck as if he’d realized he had an audience.

  I averted my gaze on instinct, even though it was like broadcasting the fact that I had been eavesdropping.

  “I need to get up in the air for the opening ceremonies,” the shorter man said. “Come with me. It’ll be the most private place to talk.”

  I peeked up under my eyelashes. The shorter man reached for Sniffle Man’s arm. Sniffle Man jerked away. But he followed him.

  I wouldn’t have gotten into a hot air balloon with someone I clearly didn’t like or trust. But that wasn’t saying much. I wouldn’t allow myself to be placed in any situation where I didn’t feel safe and have an escape route.

  Claire moved beside me once they were out of earshot. “It’s a good thing I’m too practical to believe in omens.”

  Even if the weird start to the day turned out to be a harbinger for the rest of the weekend, it still had to turn out better than the last festival I’d attended.

  “At least the ground here is too hard for someone to dig up a body,” I said.

  Claire harrumphed. “Let’s not tempt it.”

  2

  The timer on my cell phone went off with the ten-minute warning. The officials at the festival were supposed to drop the green flag at 6:30 am to signal the all-clear for the opening day mass ascension. Claire had asked me to set a timer for her. She was supposed to meet Dan and Janie, so they could watch together while I manned the truck.

  The grounds had already filled up with spectators despite the early hour. According to the spiel from the organizer who’d called to say I’d gotten one of the waitlist spots, the weeklong festival drew tens of thousands of spectators. Only a fraction of those people would be interested in cupcakes, and most not until after the mass ascension, so Claire and I had decided that we’d take turns exploring the festival each morning. With Dan and Janie coming today, I’d suggested she should go first.

  She made change for our single customer and handed her a cheddar and bacon muffin. Claire was still holding out against my suggestion that we call them mock-cakes, but a cupcake food truck selling muffins somehow felt wrong.

  “I changed my mind.” She slid the money into our money box. “You go.”

  That hardly seemed fair. Dan was her cousin, and she was “Auntie” Claire to Janie. She should be the one who joined them. I’d have a chance another day.

  Claire held up a hand before I could open my mouth to argue. “Don’t. I hate hot air balloons anyway. Dan and Janie don’t need me ruining their excitement. Dan’ll be as much a little kid about all of this as Janie.”

  I could see that. Despite what he must have experienced as an undercover cop, and then having his brother and sister-in-law die suddenly, he managed to grab at joy in a way that I didn’t quite understand. But I liked to watch. Maybe someday I’d figure out the secret too.

  Still. It felt like Claire was only saying all of that to make me feel better. “No one hates hot air balloons.”

  Claire’s eyebrows went up as if to say are you calling me a liar? “Mike proposed to me in a hot air balloon, even though he knew I was afraid of heights. I know now that he probably did it because he wanted to go for a ride and wanted a way to justify the expense. I was incidental.” She pressed her lips into a line. “That probably should have been a clue about the selfish jerk he’d turn out to be, but things are always clearer looking back.”

  I’d learned that the hard way as well. Looking back, I could see all the warning signs that my husband wasn’t a good man either. At the time, I’d been able to explain everything away or ignore it.

  Claire pointed toward the front gate where Dan and Janie would already be waiting. “You’d better hurry. You don’t want them to be paying so much attention watching for one of us that they miss the liftoff.”

  I almost threw Claire a salute but thought better of it. We’d be working in tight quarters for the next week. No need to get on her bad side.

  I hurried past the row of vendors between me and the spot Dan had arranged to meet Claire, but I made a mental note to take a little more time on the return trip. There was a vendor selling small stained-glass works of art depicting hot air balloons. Now that I was sleeping in a bedroom rather than a truck, I had a stationary window. I could buy something like that and put it up. Something to commemorate my step toward freedom.

  The closer I got to the ropes dividing the spectators from the hot air balloons, the warmer the air became. Voices carried on the air as the operators called instructions to their crews. The air right below the balloons already shimmered from the flames filling them with hot air.

  “Isabel!”

  I turned. Dan waved to me from a bit further down. He’d laid a big blanket out on the ground. Janie sat beside him.

  Sat might have been generous. Drooped against his shoulder might have been more accurate. They’d have had to be up before six o’clock to make it here, park, and find a spot to sit. Claire and I had been up since four, packing everything into the truck and then setting up once we arrived. It’d been a huge advantage to be roommates as well as business partners.

  I sat next to Janie, and she immediately squirmed over to snuggle in against me instead.

  “I wondered if Claire would back out given her history.”

  He was too much younger than Claire to be able to remember when she got engaged, but he’d no doubt heard the story many times since then. The smile Dan sent my way along with his words made me think he didn’t mind the switch.

  I nodded but didn’t have a chance to say anything more. A weird hush fell over the crowd like everyone knew the mass ascension was only seconds away.

  Before I could even finish the thought, the signal went out, and the balloons began to move. I nudged Janie, and she roused enough to sit up.

  The balloons taking off was like watching a rainbow form. They were in the brightest colors and patterns imaginable. Today all of them were traditionally shaped, but on Tuesday, there’d be a competition for the most original specialty balloon. The website had shown balloons from past years in the shape of bees, and frogs, and even a dinosaur. Dan was hoping to bring Janie back that day, but his job meant that he could never be certain about his days off. If he caught a murder investigation, he
might have to work. A few of Dan’s other cousins were planning on bringing their families that day, but I knew Dan hoped to be able to see Janie’s face himself.

  Janie had pulled away from me and was pointing out her favorite balloons, all signs of sleep gone.

  I shared a smile with Dan over her head. There was something about experiencing events through a child’s wonder that made them sharp and fresh.

  A yell drifted down from one of the balloons. I looked up, but I couldn’t pinpoint which balloon it came from. It couldn’t be one that was too high yet or I doubted we’d have been able to hear anything.

  The basket of one of the lower balloons rocked. I strained my ears. If I concentrated, I could hear men arguing.

  Janie didn’t seem to notice. Her head swiveled from side to side, clearly trying to take in everything at once. Dan, though, followed my gaze.

  Someone dangled out over the edge of the basket, and I sucked in a breath. My heart pumped so hard in my chest I thought it might burst.

  “Stop!” The voice from overhead was clearer this time—a man’s—though I couldn’t tell whether it was coming from the person hanging out of the basket or someone still inside. “What are you doing?”

  And then he was falling.

  And screaming.

  People around me gasped in what felt like a chain reaction, and a few screamed as well. Members of the ground crews scrambled out of the way.

  I grabbed Janie and pressed her face into my chest. She squirmed.

  “I need you to sit still for a minute, sweetie,” I whispered urgently into her hair. I couldn’t let her see this. No one should see this. “For me. Please. I’ll tell you when you can look again okay.”