Cinnamon And Secrets (A Cupake Shop Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “Good morning to you too,” she sounds sleepy and I wonder whether she just woke up. “What time is it?”

  “I want you to do something for me. Are you busy at the moment?”

  “Ugh, no. That’s why I was sleeping,” she growls, her voice protesting in a way that suggests my call is unwanted.

  “Okay, get ready. We’re on a mission.” I demand, ignoring her hesitancy.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re going to drop by this fancy hotel where Kamron is staying in.”

  “What? Why on the earth would we want to do that?”

  “Because, it’s been days, and we don’t have a hint as to where Braiden is. I’ve got a bad feeling. And I just need to see whether my suspicion is true.”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I SKIPPED over my morning catnap because of this,” Heather growls at her phone, while we’re both sitting on my car, parked across from the hotel’s front. It took me just a little to pinpoint where he was staying, because a) I got the area from his model fiancée, and b) there were not many elusive hotels on this side of the town.

  It’s when some man dressed in expensive clothes wanders out of the front door that I realize that the chase is on. Both of us shift down on our seats, and I’m snooping the upper side of my face upwards to catch sight of the target, when I realize it’s not him. “False alarm! False alarm!” I howl, voice a little more than enthusiastic, just so Heather won’t go all cuckoo over me.

  “This is just crazy,” she cannot hide her frustration. Then again, it’s not like she was trying to. “What are you trying to get out of this man again?” she furrows her brows in a scowl at me.

  “You know,” I mumble protectively. It’s like I want to make an excuse for getting her down with my crazy pursuit. “Just trying to make sure he doesn’t have anything to do with Braiden’s house catching fire…or Mr. Gleason getting killed.”

  “This is crazy. Just like filing that report on Braiden. They’re his nephews. Do you really think that’d be capable to do that?”

  “You’d be surprised what a lot of people would do under the pressure of failing their motives,” I try to sound firm and convincing, though it’s not like it comes from experience.

  Other well-dressed people that look like they’re coming out of fancy itineraries flicker in and out of the front, but there’s no sign of Kamron anywhere. It’s when I hear Heather sighing on her seat that I realize that my sleuthing plan is merely bungling and borderline absurd.

  “We can’t wait here forever for the man to pop up,” she growls. “What kind of a goofy plan is that?”

  “Well, it’s not like I go around chasing after people every day. And I’m not aware of his timeline. It’s just that my parents gave me some off duty time today.”

  “And what better way to spend your free time than stalking desperately and aimlessly after a man, that after all, is here on vacation, and might not have anything to do with whatever it is that you suspect of him.” She growls again, but I ignore it.

  “He’s here,” I mumble jubilantly, ignoring her complaints, and she immediately slides down on her seat, while I open the car door.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” she howls, voice more than a whisper.

  “I’m going to talk to him.” Like isn’t it obvious?

  “Are you crazy? What are you planning on saying? ‘Oh, hello there, Kamron. I tricked your model of a fiancée into giving me hints on where you lived so that I could spy on you?’ Yeah, right,” she rolls her eyes to indicate the craziness and foolishness of my plan. “Go ahead!”

  Well, she’s always on me about my sleuthing skills being clumsy and vulnerable to getting caught, but my mind is swirling on one single vortex that is Braiden, and I need to get done with it. Waddling toward the trace that Kamron is chasing, I try to look as confident and calm as I can, and not like the pathetic creep that I’m feeling like this moment.

  “Hey, Kamron,” I speak, trying to draw his attention, while he’s walking away inattentively toward what I think might be the parking lot. After all, I don’t know the area very well and I am acceptant of guessing.

  I try to look as cheerful as I can, when I try to catch him, “Um, hey,” I have a flustered, (probably) annoying smile on my face. “Can I have a word with you, please?” It’s not like I know Kamron as well as I do Braiden. Or rather, my relations with Kamron have been a little rougher. He’s not a very easy-going person—a quality that constitutes for a latent murderer.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” he doesn’t even look at me, but keeps going towards his destination.

  “How are you holding up?” Considering everything that’s happened, I figured the man has got a lot on his plate right now, so a little nicety by my end would be required.

  “I’m okay,” he frowns as if my concern offended him.

  “Oh,” I scowl, seemingly not having expected this answer. And since this is a deviance from my predictability, my normal list of questions deranges, and I’m fumbling, trying to catch up with him. He looks as though he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what’s going on with Braiden. I wonder whether he ever surfs on the internet. The thought gets me dizzy, but then I try to shake off my confusion. “I was just worried, you know, about Braiden, and I was wondering whether you knew something about him that I, or the detective, didn’t.”

  “What about him?” I keep my head hoisted on his direction, since he’s so very tall, but the expression on his face doesn’t even flinch a bit.

  “Well, I’m sure that you know about what happened to his house, and well, him disappearing, and as his cousin, I figured you’ve higher chances of being in touch with him than the rest of us.”

  “Well, I don’t. And I don’t understand why you’re making such a fuss out of it.”

  I literally hinge. What is wrong with this man? Braiden has gone missing for a couple days now, and he doesn’t give a hoot about it. From what I gather, he must not be in the best of terms with his cousin. Which I don’t understand being that Braiden is totally, absolutely adorable and likeable by everyone. So I decide to change the topic, and talk about something other than Braiden instead.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how are things going with Mr. Gleason’s inheritance?” as I say that, it’s the first time since I stepped foot into the hotel front that Kamron looks at me.

  He swings his head to meet my eyes, while he furrows his brows together, eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand how any of this is your concern, and yes, I do mind for the record. Just keep your nose when it’s supposed to be.”

  I don’t understand all his sudden frustration, which just fuels my curiosity and determination that he’s got something to do with it even more. “There has been a few break-ins into the house. I think people are trying to steal stuff that belonged to Mr. Gleason. I just thought that you should know that.”

  As I say that, I figure that it’s probably my cue to go, since he keeps walking forward, totally ignoring me as if I was a ghost next to him. Come to think of it, a ghost would have more attention upon itself that I do at the moment. And he’s a hard nut to crack, so I probably won’t be able to get anything out of him as of right now. The only way he could spill the beans is by putting him into a lot of pressure. But I don’t have anything to use against him.

  “What did you get?” Heather asks me confusedly and joyfully as once, as I realize that it is just now that she’s bringing herself into a proper juxtaposition into her seat. She’s been slipping down her seat as if we were processing thievery. The perspective is hilarious.

  “Pretty much, a big pile of nothingness,” I scowl and get ready to drive back.

  • • •

  The magic of autumn has spread around, and savoring the season as I do, I get out to the porch and set the mug of hot ginger tea on the patio table, while Coral jumps to my warm chair, and snuggles alongside me, and I feel like he’s already catnapping. Enjoying this little magical mo
ment of mine, when I get to do simple things like lingering outdoors and taking in the beauty of the season around me, I realize how good it is to have someone take care of your duties, while you can deal with other things. It’s my parents that have provided me with this little leave of absence and I just realize how much I needed this. I needed some time off, some me time. It just feels like quality time, even though I’m tangling with mundane things, but it’s the serenity of it all that’s making me enjoy it quite this much.

  The rotten personality and behavior of Kamron has left a very bad taste in my mouth. How could he be so disregardful and bratty? He just strikes me as a prime suspect in regards to the open investigation. And if I’m being honest, I would swamp him with questions if I had the power. It’s just so bad that Detective Cassidy isn’t following any real leads.

  I feel Coral purring against my legs which are clenched to the chair against each other, as I’m laying calmly with my elbow rested on the armchair, while I hold the cup that is providing me with a little dose of warmness that is so welcomed in this cold autumn day.

  Just as I’ve decided to calm myself into this little, enjoyable moment, I hear something strange coming over my shoulder. There are plenty of noises around here, especially on the evening, when people get out for a stroll, the wind blows carelessly against the trees, and leaves shutter against each other carelessly. But this is strange and doesn’t sound like anything that I’m accustomed to.

  I swing my head around and look over my shoulder, but I don’t expect to spot something suspicious, since for the last couple of days there hasn’t been any dubious activity going on around at Mr. Gleason’s house.

  Much to my determination, things go on ever so smoothly, until my corner vision spots something on the move. I get up from my chair, leave the cup to the desk and squint toward the lawn next door. I can see someone running, though the gloom settling around doesn’t let me comprehend who this person might be.

  “Hey,” I howl, trying to gather their attention, but as soon as they hear me, I can feel them hinging, panic-stricken and picking up speed.

  I run over to them, and when I hit the driveway, I see something that makes my heart leap with something that feels like panic and joy at once.

  It’s Braiden’s black sweatshirt. I would recognize it a mile away. But what I can’t figure is, why the heck is he running away from me?

  “Braiden?” I howl, louder this time. “Hey, stop!”

  I don’t get any repose. The person—Braiden—keeps running, but I don’t chase after him. He’s far gone for me to keep tabs.

  But I know now. He’s safe and sound. He’s here. I mean, I’m not sure. Though it was his sweater. It has to be him.

  I get back to my chair with a foolish smile on my face, and it’s when I catch myself being unreasonably enthusiastic that I realize how much I care for him so as to not give a damn about the way he snubbed me, or his suspicious presence in town. I just care so much about him that all that I want is for him to be good. No matter what hidden agenda he’s after to.

  Lately, I’ve been moving out of my own routine, providing myself with some free time that I realize I have missed so much and unknowingly. My parents have just found again their everlasting passion—the shop management. I have to admit, I’m ever so grateful for my off-duty time, finding happiness in every little pleasure life has to offer. But with free time, also comes thinking. Lots and lots of thinking. You see, when you’re so busy investing all of your own into something, then your mind is preoccupied, and you forget to take into consideration every little fraction that forms life, every little system that life is based upon. Because everything that you care about is the work in progress. In my case, the cupcake shop.

  But now that this thing is out of the way, I’ve returned to constructive thinking. And I’ve been giving a lot of thoughts to my life prior the cupcake shop.

  Because, weird, but yeah, I’ve had a life before this. And I cannot help but think of my ex. The one who ruined everything. It’s so crazy how one person can destroy your entire belief in humanity. But he did that. Because I let him to.

  Just flashing back to these memories is too painful. I was on my way to having my business degree, and because of what happened, everything smashed down for me. That’s why I came back home, swallowing my pride, and trying to redeem myself.

  But coming back has been the best thing that could’ve happened to me. You see, I met Braiden. The most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and he was so pretty and well-mannered, you could not help but fall in love with. And Heather has been a key factor on my way to healing. She always kept me sane, with her lame jokes, and crazy personality. Who needs a degree anyway, when you have so many thing to enjoy in life?

  Auughh, I’m just reciting this mantra to myself so I could persuade my mind that everything is okay.

  But, is it though?

  Maybe too much free time is unnecessary and not crucial after all. You just start thinking and thinking endlessly: What if I did this? What if I did that? It’s an endless circle of combinations. Somehow you can combine pieces of life in a million different ways, and yet you have only one single chance at hand to bring your life to your wishful form.

  And this is mine. I have the cupcake shop. A crazy, lovable cat. Two caring parents. The most irresistible eye candy that is Braiden. And a mystery to resolve.

  Maybe that is my destiny after all. Maybe I could’ve tracked my life in a different way. But whatever happens, just happens.

  And as far as I can tell, it’s not about thinking about the thousand perfect different ways life could’ve been like, it’s about chasing after the perfect prospect in the progress. Because, life in itself is a work in progress. And I’m making mine.

  I place my mug of tea on the counter, when Coral lingers at my feet and purrs against me. I’m so sure that I just gave him food, so I don’t know where this sudden display of affection is coming from.

  “What is it now, cat?” I look down at him and smile, while he rubs his head against my feet even more. “I love you too,” I say, not sure whether that’s what he wants to hear at the moment.

  After that, having my full attention and all, Coral waddles outdoors, and I realize that that’s just his way of showing me something. He just wanted to grab my attention. It’s really cold outside, with September taking its toll and settling itself purposefully, magically among us, so I hesitate at first. But then, I grab the courage to cater to my cat’s wishes.

  I hug my scarf around my neck, trying to come around the change. Like a couple of days ago, it was so hot, and I’m still hung up on those beautiful summer days, and now it’s as cold as can be with wind blowing firmly in my direction, and sky so gloomy and thoughtful.

  Trying to come off the confusion that surrounded me a moment ago, I squint forward, catching sight of two men in front of Mr. Gleason’s house. One of them looks very fancy, suit and tie, paperwork in his hands. The other, I recognize. It’s Kamron.

  Oh, my God. What are they talking about? Let’s just say that after our conversation, I don’t hold the highest regards toward Kamron, so no wonder, I’m a little sceptic.

  Is he trying to worm his way into Mr. Gleason’s personal estate? My conversation with Mrs. Hopper comes to mind, and I wonder whether the man talking to Kamron is a lawyer. I mean, he looks like it. Very fashionable, and formal. He’s good-looking, even from this distant a perspective.

  Coral circles my feet, waiting for his reward. I bend down and rub under his chin. He purrs in approval. “You’re a perceptive, little cat,” I compliment him.

  My phone rings and it’s loud enough to draw Kamron’s attention. I scramble for my phone into my sweater’s pocket, and I notice Kamron scowling at me as if I’m stalking him or something. Which I’m not, huh? I mean, it was Coral bringing me out here.

  I just form the nicest smile on my face, and wave at him. He swings his head in the other direction back to his conversation wi
th the lawyer man. Then they both disappear behind the house. How am I supposed not to suspect at that?

  I look at the phone, trying to come off the suspicion and Heather’s name pops up.

  “Hey, stranger,” she mocks me. I think it’s because I have ditched her for the last few days, since our chase. “What’s happening?”

  “You’ve no idea who I say talking to a lawyer in front of Mr. Gleason’s house.” I kind of settled that he’s a lawyer in my mind.

  “Um, am I supposed to guess now?” she asks, after the prolonged suspension effect that I held upon.

  “It was Kamron. Can you believe it?”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way. He was right there, and I think he scowled at me when he saw me.”

  “Well, what do you expect, after the way you put him up against the wall, treating him like a suspect?”

  “But he is a suspect, and now I’m more convinced than ever. Mrs. Hopper was right. He’s not to be trusted. And as far as I know, he might be the killer everyone is looking for after all.”

  “Anyway, let’s talk about something fun and essential, like you cupcakes. God, I missed them so much.” She growls in desire.

  “You know you can always drop by the shop and grab some, right?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not going to be the same.” She whines.

  “Because I’m not going to be there?” Aww, she’s so sweet.

  “No, because your parents would probably charge me and hey, why pay for your cupcakes when you can get them for free?”

  My flock of affection suddenly vanishes.

  I waggle my eyes around the area, while everything is so peaceful, and it’s been minutes since Kamron and his pal fled. But after that, something out of the ordinary catches my eyes. I angle myself to the rightful position to take a look and then I see it, a pang rising up in my chest and wiggling crazily.

  “Hey, I got to hang up now,” I tell Heather rapidly.

  “Hey,” she howls. “What about my cupcake needs?”