Cinnamon And Secrets (A Cupake Shop Mystery Book 1) Page 12

  “Braiden,” he mutters, realizing that the cat is out of the bag as it is. And somehow we would figure it all out, whether he gave us a name or not.

  But, wait, what did he say?

  “Braiden?” my eyes are popping at him, staring. “How would any of this benefit Braiden in any way?”

  “I take it he really hasn’t confided that much to you, has he?” he asks rhetorically. “But I guess it is up to him if he wants to crack it open. I mean, just for the record, I didn’t have anything to do with the homicide, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not the murderer that you’re looking for.”

  “Yeah, right, that’s what a murderer would say,” Heather huffs and rolls her eyes, though I can see it in her aura that her suspicion has started to vanish eventually.

  “You’re stubborn. I like that,” his eyes flicker playfully, as if he’s running through some kinky thought in his head. I roll my eyes, and figure that if Heather didn’t have a boyfriend, these two would’ve hit it off quite nicely together.

  “Then why did you lie about Braiden attending the same college as you?” she gives him an overpowering look, as if she has information against him that he wouldn’t expect her having. The same look the detective has when he’s asking you questions. He just furrows his brows in a squint, questionably, and Heather proceeds. “I did my research,” she raises her hands off of the counter and in the air excusably.

  “That just goes to show that Braiden is a very bad liar. Never trust him on doing anything shady for you,” he smiles casually, as if this all is nothing but a causal chit chat between friends.

  In spite of his playfulness, I try to realize whatever it is that Braiden is hiding. It must be really bad since it’s taken him to go away in the strangest way.

  “Anyway, I should probably get going. It was nice seeing you, Ainsley. Heather,” he greets with a smile.

  I smile at him, in a foolish way, and gape at him while he’s making his way toward the door.

  “Hey, Marcus,” Heather stops him halfway, and he turns around, while she talks to him loudly, confidently. “If you’ll ever decide to come back with a hidden agenda with you, don’t forget I’m a journalist. I can find out whatever it is that you’re up to.”

  “Sure thing.” He smiles and wriggles his head from side to side incredulously.

  I go through my mails, when my phone rings on the other part of the house. I’ve been drinking my tea peacefully this morning, since my parents decided to go back to managing the cupcake shop again.

  “Hey, Heather. What’s going on?” I ask as soon as I spot her name on the screen.

  “You’re not going to believe this. Guess who broke up with whom?” she sounds so excited on the other part of the line, but it’s early in the morning and I don’t share the same enthusiasm.

  “I’m not in the mood for this…” I mumble, giving her the sign to proceed. “Just spill it out.”

  “It was Rylee.” She says happily, and I don’t understand why somebody’s misfortune should be another person’s happiness.

  “Who?” the name doesn’t strike a note.

  “Kamron’s model fiancée.” She says in a criticizing way, as if I should’ve known this.

  “What? But why?”

  “I don’t know,” she mutters truthfully, but I can feel her lust for learning. “But don’t you want to find out.”

  “How?” I’m not really in the mood. I wasn’t lying earlier. It’s just that I woke up this morning really sleepy as if I had the flu or something, and I snuggled up in the patio warm chair with my mug of tea, that is until Heather interrupted me.

  “I heard she’s leaving town this morning. We could stop by the deluxe hotel that she’s staying in and ask her some questions. Come on, this must be connected to whatever Kamron was doing in Mr. Gleason’s house. I think this must be of interest for your own investigation.” She says like a very generous person that she’s not.

  I know that the whole reason why she’s seeing after this is because of her own profit. She just needs further information so she can write an article about it, and use Rylee’s fame as a clickbait of her own accord.

  “Okay, but you’ll drive,” I mutter, taking the last sip from my drink while I can feel her smiling on the other part of the line as we hang up.

  Looking at Coral who’s purring so adorably against my feet, I just feel so bad for having to leave him all alone in the house yet again. I mean, I didn’t plan to. If it were for me, than I’d snuggle up with him all day and enjoy the warmness of my home in the rather cold and sleepy September day.

  “I’m sorry,” I whine apologetically at him. “It’s just that I have to do this. We want to find a link to that murderer after all. And if I’m not mistaken this seems too suspicions, right?”

  It doesn’t take long for Heather to come over and pick me up, and when she does, we fast-track toward the hotel, where according to Heather, the model is already running away.

  “There she is,” says Heather triumphantly when she spots her putting a duffel bag on her car. Seemingly, she’s been carrying her belongings over to the car for a while now, and it’s just now that I realize that this is more than just a rumor. She’s really going away. But why? She seemed so in love and happy with Kamron. Did he do something to upset her? If that’s the case, what did he do? I realize that after all, my coming here would help me with my own research.

  “Do you think she’s in the mood for a chit chat?” I ask, considering the events occurring on her life.

  “Well, she doesn’t have a choice,” says Heather clutching the steering wheel, and then getting out of the door and toward the model, not waiting for me.

  I prompt myself to chase after her, wriggling in jerking motions to level up with Heather. She just seems so determined and unstoppable, and once again I’m reminded of the reasons behind this visit. She’s doing this in the interest of her work ambitions. I must’ve been a fool to think for a second that she’s doing this out of nicety.

  “Hey, Rylee, what’s up?” Heather greets her with an amicable smile, while Rylee takes a peek at her in a typical model way, just for an instant, and then gets back at her packing.

  I manage to bring myself close by, and am now looking at the beautiful model who is wearing skin-tight white shorts, a patterned pink unbuttoned shirt tied above her belly button in a messy, lousy knot. She’s just so pretty and tall and her summery tan just makes her skin look so smooth and shiny.

  “Rylee, how are you?” I manage to greet, unsettled as to whether I should smile or contain a more neutral complexion.

  “I’d like to say I’m fine. But considering that I just broke up with the man who I had designated my future with, well, you can imagine how I’m doing.”

  “Look, about that, I’m so sorry,” I whisper earnestly. I haven’t been around her for too long to know her, but judging by her looks only, she seems like a very bright person that you would want to keep around yourself, mainly because she lights up a room, only with her presence.

  She’s on the verge of stuffing another box inside of her car, but she stops halfway and for the first time she looks at me, actually paying attention, and sighs. “It’s just so hard, you know. We dreamed of this well-detailed future together. And look where we are now.”

  “I heard you were taking off with your ex. Is that true?” I look at Heather in a criticizing way, as soon as she opens her mouth. The girl must be so sad, but all Heather cares about is getting some exclusive news out of her. I’m starting to consider whether coming here alongside her was such a good idea.

  “Landen just keeps texting me,” she’s crossed her arms upon her chest, while talking in her mellow, sweet voice, and she’s just adorable. “I mean, I might’ve let him think that I’m taking up his offer when he said he wanted to help me get settled in back in the city.”

  “So you are getting back together?” Heather is wearing her complete journalist aureole, asking pro
fessionally questions and taking notes on a little notepad in her hand. That’s just unbelievable. My eyes are bulging out incredulously.

  Rylee decides to stay silent about that one, and I hop in with another question hoping to somehow break the awkward silence in between.

  “I know that it’s none of my business, but did Kamron do something wrong? I mean, you looked so happy together. And needless to say, this event was a little unexpected.”

  She looks away uncomfortably for a moment, arms still crossed over her chest, eyes glinting magically even throughout discomfort. How can a person be this beautiful, and still have such a complicated life? I guess, the best of them struggle with complex lives.

  “It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do,” she scoffs, hurtfully. “Anyway, let’s stick to positive thinking. I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

  “Can you be more specific?” Heather barges in, totally ignoring Rylee’s wishes. “About the things that he didn’t do.”

  My jaw drops open in an unbelievable way. I cannot believe Heather’s annoying insistence. Typical journalist behavior. All she cares about is getting more and more dirt out of Rylee just so she could build a gripping story that would go viral.

  “Anyway,” Rylee snubs Heather’s questions gracefully. “What brings you down here today?” she flings her head our way, in a fashionable way, and squints with her lips pouting expectantly.

  Oh-oh. We’re so busted. She’s so smart for a model, isn’t she? And here I am, trying to sidetrack this tricky question, when in the same time I could be enjoying my tea, and snuggling with Coral. Though I’m not sure I need tea.

  “We just wanted to check up on you, considering what is going on into your life,” Heather snuffs.

  “Well, that was nice of you, but I’m doing fine,” she smiles and it seems to me like she’s trying to see into the reasons of us being here. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Rylee grabs another box and gets on with stuffing them on her car, “I’ve got packing to do.”

  We smile at her, while I stuff my hand amidst Heather’s arm, dragging her away, which she does, hesitantly. The look on her face when she realized that she’ll not be able to gather much out of Rylee, and that what she already collected would probably not be enough for a viral story, is hilarious.

  “I don’t know whether coming here was a good idea,” I conclude, when we’re making it to the car, arm by arm. “And I’m sleepy.”

  “Trying to solve a murder mystery all by yourself will do that to you,” she mumbles, looking straightforward, and I can still hear the disappointment in her voice.

  I’m in desperate need of a mug of tea. And to think that all I’ve been doing all morning long is drink tea, and creating new recipes.

  “If we convince her to have one more conversation with us, I’m sure I can make up the best story that would catapult my career as a journalist drastically.” She murmurs wishfully and I realize that her mind is still back to the conversation with Rylee. But she’ll come around. Eventually.

  Last night, while I decided to look at the violet nuances hovering in the sky among a million shining little stars from my perspective, my phone buzzed and the most joyful text came up to me.

  I had to check the name twice, because of my disbelief, but then I came around to realize that it was really him. Braiden had texted me, basically telling that he wanted to catch up over coffee, which I in a spur of moment decision replied to as follows; I’d be delighted to grab coffee with you.

  I know I might’ve looked so desperate but at this point I didn’t care. The man who’s been tormenting me for the last couple of weeks, finally decided to grant me some attention, and it’s only normal a girl would feel flattered.

  And here I am now, at the brew, having ordered my tea and cinnamon bun, while waiting anxiously. He still hasn’t showed up, and I’m wondering whether he’s changed his mind, or whether I must’ve been so delirious last night and all this is nothing but a wishful, unreal creation of my imagination.

  Braiden would make you feel nervous being around him in a normal day, so adding the special circumstances of a murder mystery to that, I guess that I am double as nervous. But I guess I’m not the only person who finds him an irresistible hunk.

  I’ve been so obsessed with scrutinizing him while he went out running, I got up early each morning chasing after him, just so we could spend a little time together. I mean he made my life and the townspeople’s more beautiful just by being around.

  So when he shows up by that door, carrying his charm and beauty around, I’m so swooning at the sight of him. I cannot help myself.

  “Braiden, you came,” I say cheerfully, dreamily like some silly high-school girl who’s seen her crush. He flashes a smile at me, while I angle my cheek toward his lips. He gives me a little peck, and suddenly I feel like I’m in a candy store.

  “How are you doing?” Oh it’s so sweet that he cares to ask. I mean, it just takes him being around for one to forget about all the cruelty that he might’ve done to you. How do they call that? Because to me it seems a lot like magic.

  “Well, I’m just hanging in there. It’s been tough, as you can imagine. Though my parents are in town and they’re helping me redeem myself.”

  “That’s nice,” he points while the waiter comes around and Braiden orders just the same thing as me. I howl in the inside. I mean, what am I supposed to do with that?

  “What about you?” I feel like I want to swamp him with questions, but I should refrain myself if I don’t want to scare him away. I mean, it was hard enough getting him in here as it is. I just have to take things slowly with him.

  “Where do I start?” he guffaws boyishly with a smile, and God, he’s so cute. I mean, if he were an item that you would pick in the store, I would buy him no matter the numbers ingrained behind his price tag. That much adorableness in just a moment is just divine.

  “How about with where have you been?”

  “Good question.” He mutters and I can tell he’s insecure. Oh, I don’t want him to feel this way, I don’t want to push him up against the wall, as I figure, it has been hard for him too. There should be reasons behind his escapee. And he’s about to put things in perspective. “Aughh, how can I explain this?”

  I find myself jarring my hands against his in a sign of support. But I don’t know whether it’s about that more than about my lust for touching him.

  “Your house caught fire and we got so worried. How did this happen? Where were you?”

  “I started that fire,” he says in a blameworthy way.

  “You did?” my eyes bulge out shockingly. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s complicated. And I may look stupid. But,” he places the ends of his palms over his eyes, and I want to shake all the discomfort off of him and throw it away. Something melts inside me. I don’t want to see him this sad. He rubs his eyes with his palm, while his fingers slide over his hair. I want to tell him to take his time. That he doesn’t have to tell me if he didn’t want to. But my lust for knowing takes the better part of me.

  “Is everything alright?” I snoop my head over the table in dis direction, bending down, trying to meet his eyes facing the plate on the table. I realize how foolish it is of me to ask that.

  Does everything look okay? Augh, what’s wrong with me?

  “I messed up,” he cracks up. “It all started with me coming here. Actually it goes back in college. That’s where I decided to do something stupid that is still chasing after me, and that I cannot fix. But everything I did, I did out of the need of making my family proud. And do you remember Marcus?” he squints adorably and doesn’t look so sad anymore, but as if he’s just narrating a casual story instead.

  “Yeah, he came by the cupcake shop a couple of times,” I recall everything Marcus told me of how he wasn’t to blame for the mystery and about Braiden having some explaining to do.

  “I lied about him. He’s not my college bu
ddy.”

  Oh. What is going in here? Suddenly all my hopes are starting to vanish.

  “How come?” I ask, interestedly.

  “You see, he’s a successful, young entrepreneur that I met during one of my workshops and we seemed to hit it off right off the bat. He told me about how he’d started his business from scratch, and something sparked inside me. What if I invested my money in a business project, became a successful young entrepreneur like him, and made my parents proud? You know how they’re so successful and set the bar so high, looking forward to me to attend after them.”

  The waiter interrupts our conversation, putting Braiden’s cinnamon roll on the table, while Braiden thanks him with an appreciative smile, and gets back to the conversation meanwhile.

  “So I did. I put all my money on this project. Asked Marcus for additional financial support. And waited two months after that for my reward. What I got instead, is a great punch on the face. You see, the board disapproved of the project, all the money went down on the line and I was completely broke.”

  “That’s why you came here?” I conclude with a glint of realization. I was very startled when he came back to town, since he was attending a top-notch college and he wasn’t done with his studies just yet.

  “That’s why I came,” he repeats and pokes at his cinnamon roll. “Somehow I couldn’t even provide for my studies anymore. And I couldn’t ask my parents for money, since they’ve given me a whole lot, and coming back to them for an extra deposit of support on my account, would’ve given my failing away. And not only wouldn’t they be proud of me, I’d have been a huge disappointment to them.”

  “So you lied.”

  “I did. I came back with the pretense I needed some time off. And Marcus was not here on vacation. He just wanted the money that he lost on this project back. Because I convinced him to partner up with me, trying to take advantage of his business insight.”

  I’m trying to puzzle out, little by little. “That’s why you asked Mr. Gleason to help you.”