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    Sugar and Scandals: A Pink Cupcake Mystery, #8
    Sugar and Scandals: A Pink Cupcake Mystery, #8
    Sugar and Scandals: A Pink Cupcake Mystery, #8
    Ebook136 pages2 hours

    Sugar and Scandals: A Pink Cupcake Mystery, #8

    By Harper Lin

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    From 3x USA TODAY Bestselling Author Harper Lin

     

    When Amelia is interviewed about her cupcake business for a popular food magazine, she also learns about the death of an old classmate. Spencer Randall had always been a ladies' man, but in recent years, he'd taken to dating wealthy older women for their money. He was found dead on a hiking trail, beaten to death. With multiple women fighting over him, Amelia and Dan have their work cut out for them.

     

    In the middle of a stakeout with Dan, Amelia also uncovers her ex-husband's latest scandal…

     

    Read the 8th cozy mystery in the popular Pink Cupcake series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarper Lin Books
    Release dateDec 20, 2018
    ISBN9781386598992
    Sugar and Scandals: A Pink Cupcake Mystery, #8

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      Book preview

      Sugar and Scandals - Harper Lin

      CHAPTER ONE

      Amelia Harley slid out of bed with sore shoulders. She was afraid she might need a new mattress. The one she was sleeping on had been bought at a furniture outlet store after the divorce. John had kept most of the furniture, and that included their four-poster bed.

      As she rubbed her neck, she decided that she would stop at a mattress store and order herself a new one. It was an investment. A good night’s sleep was necessary for a productive day, and she didn’t have time to be nonproductive. Especially today.

      Carefully she stretched her head to one side and then the other, wincing at the tightness and her inability to turn her head very far to the right.

      A hot shower will help. Right there she heard the voice of her father. When she had been growing up, if she ever hit a rough patch, a bad breakup, he would always say, Go take a shower. It’ll make you feel better.

      It was true. Something about the water coming down nice and hot made her feel a little better. It wasn’t a cure for anything and was probably more psychological than anything else, but it never hurt. Not like her stiff neck was doing to her this morning.

      A hot shower was just the remedy for loosening up her tight muscles. She had to be in top form today. She was being interviewed for Food & Wine Magazine. It was an amazing step up from the smaller local mags and papers that had given The Pink Cupcake food truck reviews. Not that she wasn’t thankful for all their praise. She was. But this was nationwide. A big hairy deal, as her daughter Meg would say.

      Shuffling slowly and a bit painfully to her bathroom, Amelia wondered if the kids might like new mattresses, too. It was always hard for Amelia to legitimize buying anything for herself with two growing teenagers.

      The kids were always in need of something. Adam was growing like a weed and went through a pair of gym shoes a month. At seventeen years, he was still having growth spurts. He was like those creeping Charlie plants that grow without practically any sunlight. Moving his room to the basement hadn’t been Amelia’s first choice. But he was a good boy with nerdy computer interests and good grades. He wanted the space. It was hard for Amelia to say no. He was probably down there growing out of his pajamas as she stood in the bathroom waiting for the water in the shower to heat up.

      Meg was different. She was a petite thing who loved the Pink Cupcake. She talked about the truck and the business as if they were people. It always brought a tear to Amelia’s eyes when she thought of how proud her daughter was of her.

      It’ll be okay, Mom. You’ve done everything right, she’d say whenever there was a bumpy patch. An expensive repair. A new fee from the city being tacked on to her food truck business license. You just need faith of a mustard seed.

      Amelia smiled as she stepped under the hot water and let the pricks and tingles wake her up. Slowly, she rubbed her muscles and felt them relaxing. The combination of the water and the steam loosened up the stiffness from all over, and by the time she stepped out, she was feeling much more alive.

      Wrapping herself in her robe, a hot-pink terrycloth number that the kids had picked out for a Mother’s Day present last year, she shuffled downstairs into the kitchen to get the coffee started. She passed by Meg’s room, and Amelia chuckled at something Meg had done last week.

      Mom, I’d like to repaint my room, Meg had announced one day after school.

      Okay. What color? Amelia asked. She had no problem allowing the change since Meg was also a good student and very responsible.

      Hot pink. Like the truck.

      Are you sure you want to look at that color every day when you wake up and every night when you go to sleep? I asked.

      Absolutely. When I take over your business when you retire, my whole house is going to match that truck. Everyone will know where the Pink Cupcake lady lives.

      There was no talking her out of it. Now, Amelia’s beautiful daughter had the hot-pink bedroom of her dreams.

      As Amelia quietly shuffled into the kitchen and got the coffee percolating, she looked out the back window. There was a surprise waiting for her. The leaves on the trees were starting to show their fall colors. There were just a few. Through the green leaves, she saw a splash of orange here, a small swipe of yellow there.

      Fall was such a fun time of year with Halloween and cooler temperatures. She loved wearing sweaters and baggy pants to work. Summer was fine, but it would get so hot that the idea of wearing a bikini almost seemed like a good one.

      The warm, bitter smell of coffee quickly filled the kitchen. Still standing and looking out the window, Amelia watched as the small finches bravely confronted the pushy blue jays for food at the feeders. The sky looked overcast. The weather was supposed to be cloudy with just a few sprinkles throughout the day. Amelia didn’t care about the rain. She was going to have a pleasant interview with whoever that food critic was, and once that was in the bag, there would be another page to add to her scrapbook.

      She poured a cup of coffee and looked at the calendar taped to the fridge. Nothing important was coming up for the kids at school. There was a catering job for a retirement party in another week and then a themed wedding at the end of the month.

      Quietly, Amelia pulled out a chair at her kitchen table, sat down, took a sip of coffee, and relaxed. She hated to say it, but as her skin cooled, she felt the tension creeping back into her neck. She might have made it worse. She rubbed it and listened to the quiet.

      Before the bustling and before-school conversations started, Amelia liked to sit alone in her kitchen and enjoy the silence. It wasn’t that she didn’t love hearing her kids jabber back and forth. She did. They verbally sparred with each other the way boxers physically trained with the protection of headgear for three minutes at a time. It made Amelia laugh.

      By the time she had finished her first cup, she heard the slow steps of her son coming up the basement steps.

      Good morning, Amelia said.

      Adam yawned widely and nodded as he scratched his head. His pajama bottoms were well above his ankles. Amelia was right. He had grown some more in the night.

      What would you like for breakfast?

      I’m not hungry.

      Good. I didn’t want to cook anyway. Amelia smiled.

      Within a few minutes, footsteps upstairs could be heard shuffling around then bounding down the stairs. Meg was a morning person.

      Hi, Amelia said, smiling at her daughter.

      Good morning, she chirped. Her long brown hair stood at attention on the left but lay smooth on the right. Are you ready for your interview?

      What interview? Adam muttered.

      "Mom’s interview with Food & Wine Magazine, stupid."

      Don’t call your brother stupid.

      Yeah, you little twerp.

      Don’t call your sister a twerp.

      What are you going to wear, Mom? Meg asked as she poured herself and Adam a glass of milk.

      Well. Amelia tapped her chin. I was thinking of wearing either my hot-pink The Pink Cupcake T-shirt or my hot-pink The Pink Cupcake T-shirt with my jeans.

      Will you wear your pink gym shoes?

      You mean the dressy Converse All-Stars you insisted I buy?

      Of course. Meg rolled her eyes.

      I don’t know. Do you think I should?

      Only cool people wear All-Stars, Mom, Meg replied. Even Adam knows that. She bumped past him as she headed back upstairs to get ready for school.

      I’m sorry, Mom. I forgot about your interview today.

      That’s okay, honey. It’s not that big a deal. We’re getting pretty used to being reviewed, aren’t we?

      Yeah. He yawned again. Pretty soon you’ll be making as much money as Dad does.

      Let’s hope. Amelia smiled. She had done a pretty good job hiding her disgust with her cheating ex-husband. They’d been apart for a while now. He had a new wife, and their first baby was on the way.

      At first all of it had been a bit shocking. Amelia had preferred to use that term instead of admitting to any jealousy or feelings of all-out rejection. But the food truck had changed all that.

      She had expected to earn a living. She had never expected for the Pink Cupcake to become her identity. It was wonderful. She was no longer John O’Malley’s ex-wife. She was Amelia Harley, the owner of one of the most successful dessert trucks on Food Truck Alley. She even had the receipts to prove it. There were still some weeks when she had to tighten her belt, but only Amelia and Lila Bergman, her bookkeeper, knew about that. And Lila would never tell.

      CHAPTER TWO

      You look adorable. Lila Bergman was a foot taller than Amelia and at least ten years older. Her hair color was boxed as Fire Engine Red, and it matched her manicured nails. Look what I had made for Beatrice.

      "Well, thanks for the compliment. But I don’t know if I like you bringing gifts for our

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