Table of Contents
Death with Chocolate on Top
Mel rounded a rack of skirts and froze. A leg, a very slim leg in black hose, wearing a Christian Louboutin platform pump with a bright red heel, was sticking out from under a hanging rack of evening gowns. Mel knew right away this was no mannequin that had toppled over.She ran across the floor, ducking under gowns. Sure enough, Christie was sprawled as if shed fallen and had knocked herself out. For a nanosecond, Mel was sure Christie must have tripped and banged her head. But her pasty coloring alerted Mel that something was wrong, very wrong.Christie, are you all right? she asked. She put a hand on each side of Christies face and patted her cheeks. She felt stiff to the touch, and Mel yanked her hands back.Mel stared at Christies chest, but there was no rise and fall. She put a finger on Christies exposed wrist, hoping to find a pulse. A cupcake, covered in dark chocolate fondant, rolled out of her curled fingers
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephens Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,
South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
PUBLISHERS NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
SPRINKLE WITH MURDER
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / March 2010
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer McKinlay Orf.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-18548-3
BERKLEY PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
[http://us.penguingroup.com] http://us.penguingroup.com
For my mom, Susan Norris McKinlay,
I love you more than cupcakes !
Acknowledgments
People often ask where I get my ideas. Usually, I shrug because I have no idea. But with
Sprinkle with Murder, I have to say, it was a little more in my face. In the course of one week, I listened as a soon-to-be married coworker agonized over what flavor cupcakes to have in her wedding cake tower, then my agents partner blogged about how she checked out the local cupcake bakery in every city to which she traveled, and finally, a dear friend stopped by my house to tell me that a cupcake bakery had opened nearby and that they sold shots of frosting. It was the rule of threes and just like that I knew I had to set a mystery series in a cupcake bakery. So, I give thanks to Tara Dietz, Jessica Faust, and Sheila Levine for making my muse hungry for cupcakes.Thanks must be given to my agent, Jacky Sach, for her skill and enthusiasm. Truly, youre the best. More thanks to my editors Allison Brandau to start and Kate Seaver to finish, with loads of help along the way from Katherine Pelz and Megan Swartz.Id also like to give a nod to my writing pals, the Ladies of the Loop, my fellow blog pals at the Mystery Lovers Kitchen, and for daily inspiration the gals at the blog Cupcakes Take the Cake. Locally, I must acknowledge Lulus Cupcakes for being so gracious in answering my questions, giving me a tour of the kitchen, and for having the best chocoschnitzel cupcake ever.I must thank my readers, Susan McKinlay, Susie Matazzoni, Jan Buckwalter, and Tom Gemberling for their always spot-on input. Also, I need to send hugs to my extended family, the McKinlays and the Orfs, who have patiently encouraged me through the highs and lows of a writers life. And finally, first in my heart but last on the page, I want to give crusher hugs to my dudes, Wyatt, Beckett, and Chris Hansen Orf, you three are the frosting on my cupcake. I love you!
One
Does she really think we dont see her? Angie DeLaura asked her best friend and business partner Melanie Cooper.Mel blew her blonde bangs off of her forehead and came around the counter of the cupcake display case to glance out the front window with Angie.How many times has she driven by today? she asked.Seven times since we opened this morning, and twelve yesterday.Youd think if she was so worried about our shop stealing her customers, shed be slaving away in her kitchen baking something.Youd think, Angie agreed.Just then the icing pink, refrigerated van did another slow drive by their window. Angie and Mel smiled and waved. Olivia Puckett, the driver of the van and owner of a nearby bakery called Confections, gave them a wide-eyed stare and stomped on the gas, bumping the curb with one of the vans tires in her haste to get away.Maybe shell get a flat, Angie said.We can always hope, Mel agreed.Mel turned around. She refused to let Olivia Pucketts paranoia dampen her joy with her own shop. Fairy Tale Cupcakes had been a dream of Mels for several years, and now it was finally open.She loved everything about this petite shop nestled in the heart of Old Town Scottsdale. With a western wear store next door and a tattoo parlor on the corner, Mel felt as if she fit right in with the amalgam of quirky shops that filled this quaint neighborhood.She had chosen a retro fifties dcor. Everything was in shades of pink and gray with lots of chrome and glass.Her main investor and childhood friend, Tate Harper, had made her tone down the pink a few notches; he said it made him feel constipated. Whatever.Angie was refilling the silver napkin holders on the booth tables in front of the window, and she glanced frequently at the street to see if Olivia made another pass. Angie had been Mels best friend for twenty-two years, since the first day of sixth grade when they met in home-room.Students were seated alphabetically, so she and Mel ended up next to each other. Mel had a powerful sweet tooth and frequently kept a stash of candy on her person. On that day, she had a milk chocolate bar, the kind without nuts.Unfortunately, her sweet tooth caused Mel to be on the chubby side, which made her the object of much teasing. Wanting to be nice to the new girl, however, she offered Angie half of her candy bar. Angie looked so grateful that Mel knew shed found a kindred candy freak. But when she reached across the aisle to hand Angie the chocolate, the class bully, Jeff Stanton, snatched it out of her hand with a mean laugh and said, Thanks, Fatso.Mel probably would have shed some private tears in the girls bathroom, but Angie had exploded out of her seat and grabbed the candy out of Jeffs hand before he could shove it into his mouth.Who are you calling Fatso? she asked, and she poked him in the belly. Hard.Jeff looked like he was going to slug her, but just then Joe DeLaura strode into the room. He was tall and muscular, and he was swinging his car keys around his index finger as if he hadnt quite gotten used to the fact that they were his. Or maybe he was just showing off. Either way, he frowned at Jeff and reached around him to hand Angie a paper lunch bag.You forgot your lunch in my car, Ange, he said.Thanks, Joe. She was still glaring at Jeff.Need any backup? Joe asked, glaring at Jeff, too. Jeff visibly shrank on the spot.Nope, she said as Jeff scuttled back towards his desk.Ill pick you up after school.Angie quickly leaned over to Mel. You want to come over to my house today?Sure, Mel agreed.And hey, whats your name? Angie asked.Melanie.And my friend Melanie, too, Angie called after Joe.He glanced at Mel and shrugged. Sure. See you.It had marked the beginning of a perfect friendship. Then and now, Angie reminded Mel of a firecracker. Mel never knew when Angie was going to explode, and when she did, it was usually a sight to behold. Angela Marie DeLaura was short, with a curvy figure and long, wavy brown hair that reached halfway down her back. Her large, chocolate brown eyes were sharp with intelligence and warm with humor. She had a smile that lit up her whole face, and she frequently used it to charm her way out of anything she didnt like doing.Having grown up tall and lanky, Mel had no curves to brag about. And now that she spent so much time in the kitchen, baking cupcakes, she kept her pale blonde hair cropped short in the back and long on top, giving her a thick set of bangs to keep from appearing too boyish. With her pale hair, pale skin, and blue-green eyes, Mel knew she and Angie were complete opposites, but maybe thats why they were such good friends. They balanced each other.The bells on the door jangled, and Mel put on her greet-the-customer face. As soon as she recognized the tall man bearing two big boxes, however, her smile dimmed.Oh, its you.Gee, its great to see you, too, Tate Harper said. He put the boxes on one of the small caf tables and stretched the kinks out of his back.He was wearing his work clothes: a white dress shirt and charcoal gray slacks. His red power tie was askew, but Mel was pretty sure she could check her lipstick in the shine of his shoes.Tate Harper, her other longtime friend, was handsome in a prep school raised with gobs of money, never had a worry in his life sort of way. But Mel had known him through a voice change, pimples, and braces. He would always be the big brother shed never known she wanted until he strolled into her life at the age of eleven, quoting Groucho Marx and making her laugh so hard in study hall that she got detention for a week.Im sorry, Mel said. I thought you were a customer.Hunh. Tate gave a dramatic sigh and ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. You know, Its better to be looked over than overlooked.Save it, Mae West, Mel chided him, and he grinned.They had been trading classic movie lines since the day he had caused her to get detention. A few months later Angie made their duo a trio, and for the next seven years, the three of them whiled away most of their weekends watching old movies and eating junk food in the mini movie theater Tates parents had in their house.Well, at least I got a smile out of Angie, Tate said.Be serious, Angie said from her spot in the booth by the window. Im laughing
Next page
