Cupcakes, Chaos and Clues: The Misadventures of a Cat Detective: The Misadventures of a Cat Detective, #4
By Alice Stone
()
About this ebook
When a murder crashes the Hivensrock theater, the latest sensation isn't just my newfound baking skills, but a puzzling case of cat and mouse. And I'm the mouse!
Detective Grey and I witness the death of a notorious theater owner right under the unforgiving spotlight of his own stage. Looks like he won't get to try one of the cupcakes we made for this celebration.
Along with my clever feline companion Pearl, we're forced into a relentless dash to piece together a theatrical enigma before my cookies get stale. Danger looms larger than the stage's ominous curtains, with secrets darker than the most sinister of scripts.
Just as the final act comes into view, we're thrown into a whirlwind of deceit more perilous than an acrobat's high-wire act.
Can we shatter the illusion of our elusive adversary before the cookie crumbles and the killer claims more victims?
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Cupcakes, Chaos and Clues - Alice Stone
Cupcakes, Chaos, and Clues
A Paranormal Culinary Cozy Mystery
Alice Stone
MM Innovative Creations
Copyright © 2023 by Alice Stone
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
1.The Hall of Tragedy
2.Daya’s Meeting
3.The Circus Man
4.The Chef and the Maze
5.The Son
6.The Door Keepers
7.Patrick
8.Cookies and Letters
9.Diana's Secret
10.The Mother
11.The Other Son
12.The Line Up
13.The Other Mother
14.Twelve Years
15.The First Attempt
16.The Boy
17.Back to Picklesquare
18.The Tall Tales
19.Many Faces
20.The Final Show
21.Recipe!
Chapter one
The Hall of Tragedy
On a seemingly normal Wednesday morning, Diana, my chef, and I stood in the heart of my bustling kitchen with aprons on, ready to tackle the final batch of cakes for the Grand Theater’s opening in Hivensrock, a little town near Picklesqure. The tension was as thick as sugar frosting, and I was about as clueless as a squirrel at a piano recital.
Diana looks like she was born with a whisk in one hand and a rolling pin in the other.
Me? Well, I'd always been more of a microwave dinner
kind of gal. But here I was, ready to dive headfirst into the world of baking with her help. What could go wrong?
Diana glanced over at me, a twinkle in her eye, and said, Charlotte, are you ready to work some magic in the kitchen?
I mustered a weak smile and replied, As ready as a cat at a dog show, Diana.
Diana chuckled. Don't worry. We've got this. Now, let's start by creaming the butter and sugar together.
I stared at the butter and sugar like they were aliens. Creaming? You mean like making buttercream frosting?
Maybe I should stick to solving mysteries with Detective Grey and my cat, Pearl. This baking thing was starting to get out of hand.
Diana suppressed a laugh. No, Charlotte. It's the first step in baking. We mix the butter and sugar until it becomes light and fluffy. It's like they’re giving themselves a cozy little hug.
I nodded, trying to envision the butter and sugar as best buddies having a fluffy hug fest. We started mixing, and I did my best to mimic Diana's graceful movements. She has the finesse of a conductor leading an orchestra, while I am more like a toddler playing
with a toy drum set.
After what felt like an eternity of mixing, Diana added the eggs one at a time. She handed me an egg and said, Okay, Charlotte, crack this egg and add it to the mix.
I took the egg, trying to look confident, and proceeded to break it. Plop! I cringed as the egg created a mushroom bomb of flour and sugar, coughing as it reached my lungs.
It’s okay,
Diana moved gracefully, putting the sugar back into the pantry.
Of course, I end up with eggshells in the bowl and a bit of egg white splattered on my apron already. Diana laughed, but it was a kind, encouraging laugh. No worries, it happens to the best of us. Let me show you how it's done.
She cracked the egg effortlessly with one hand, and I felt a tad embarrassed that my two hands couldn’t crack an egg like that. But hey, I am here to learn, right?
As we continued, Diana explained the importance of sifting flour and adding the right amount of baking powder. I was starting to feel like a sponge, soaking up all this baking wisdom. I may not have been a natural, but I was determined to give it my all since baking felt like a valuable skill she was willing to teach me. Not to mention she asked for my help…
Finally, we poured the batter into the cake pans, and I felt a sense of accomplishment as we finished this lesson. Diana looked at me with genuine pride and said, You did great, Charlotte. Baking is all about learning and having fun along the way.
I grinned, realizing that despite my initial cluelessness, I was becoming a bona fide baker. One messed up cake at a time, but still. Diana's infectious enthusiasm had rubbed off on me, and I couldn't have been happier to be a part of her next adventure, this Grand Theater opening. As we popped the cakes into the oven, I thought, Who needs a microwave when you've got the joy of baking?
And just like that, in the midst of flour, eggs, and a few mishaps, I hoped I was on my way to becoming a baking sensation for this little town. Who knows, maybe one day I'd give those fancy pastry chefs a run for their money. But for now, I was content knowing that I was helping make the Grand Theater opening in Hivensrock a little bit sweeter, one cupcake at a time.
As our cakes baked in the oven, Diana's excitement was bubbling over like a pot of boiling water. She turned to me with a gleam in her eye and said, You know, Charlotte, landing this gig is a dream come true for me.
I looked at her, genuinely curious. Really? What makes it so special?
Diana chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. Well, you see, the man who hired me for this job, Mr. Parkson, used to be my boss in Hivensrock. We didn't part on the best terms when I left to come work for Mr. Livingstone in Picklesquare…
For a second, I couldn’t tell what Diana meant. Before I could ask her for more details, she sighed.
Her gaze turned back to me with bright eyes. But now, he's not only forgiven me but asked me to be a part of this grand event! It feels like redemption, like a second chance to prove my worth.
I could see the gratitude and emotion in her eyes. That's incredible, Diana. It sounds like a fantastic opportunity.
Diana nodded, her smile widening. It sure is. Baking for the theater’s opening feels like coming full circle. It's a chance to show Mr. Parkson how far I've come and how much I've grown as a chef, too.
I was swept up in her enthusiasm. Well, I'm glad I get to be part of this journey with you. And hey, I may not be a baking pro, but I promise to learn and do my best.
Diana placed a hand on my shoulder, her eyes brimming with warmth. Charlotte, you being here means the world to me. Let's make these cakes unforgettable.
***
The buzz around Hivensrock was unlike anything I'd ever seen. A new theater hall was about to open its grand doors, and the excitement in the air was like popcorn popping fresh and fast. Diana told me Hivensrock had never been much of a theater town, but that was all about to change.
And guess who got to be a part of it? Me, Charlotte, the solver of unusual and sometimes magical mysteries, who had always secretly wanted (and now had her chance) to master the art of baking!
As I stood outside the theater hall, clutching Pearl, my fluffy white cat, I couldn't contain my excitement. I might not have known the difference between a spatula and a whisk before baking with Diana this week, but I was beginning to enjoy the sweet secrets of the craft.
Pearl licked my hand encouragingly. Earlier in the week, Pearl curled up next to me as I drifted off to sleep, I’m so proud of you for picking up one of my favorite pastimes.
The theater hall itself was a sight to behold. It stood tall and proud, a stunning piece of architecture that seemed to have been plucked right out of a bygone era. The grand entrance, adorned with beautiful carvings and a marquee that sparkled with bright lights, was enough to take anyone's breath away.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric. The guests, dressed to the nines, chatted and laughed while savoring the cupcakes and pastries that Diana and I had crafted with love. The aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, making my stomach rumble with anticipation, not hunger.
As I balanced Pearl in my arms, her fluffy head resting on my shoulder, I sensed a strange warmth in my heart. It was almost as if my grandmother, Melinda's spirit, who now resided in Pearl, was communicating with me all the time. Her spirit remained in my cat last month after the last case Detective Grey and I solved together.
To be honest, I am glad that she didn’t leave. Her words had been clear after we solved another murder last month, Charlotte, the Dark Stone is still out there. I can’t rest until we destroy it.
I feel like I definitely still need her help.
Walking around the theater, Pearl and I made small talk with folks standing around, waiting to be seated.
These little towns have a lot more to teach about baking and murder than I anticipated when I moved in what felt like a lifetime ago…
I didn’t want my grandmother to leave me, not at all. Even after we successfully find the Dark Stone and destroy it, I secretly hope she will stay. I sensed Melinda’s presence with me now, and it felt like she was telling me how happy she was for me, that I had been part of the team that baked for this celebration.
I soon spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Detective Grey, with his handsome face, broad shoulders, and unmistakable air of authority behind his friendly eyes, was among the security team ensuring the safety of the event goers. I couldn’t help myself, the sight of him made me giggle with excitement.
Oh, there he is!
I have to admit, solving cases with him had been a highlight of moving to Picklesquare after I inherited my family’s historic mansion. I smoothed my thick hair down and straightened my flowy skirt that accentuated my curvy figure.
With Pearl tucked securely under my arm, I made my way over to Detective Grey, weaving through the elegant crowd like a salmon swimming upstream. When I reached him, his trademark smile broke out across his stern demeanor. Well, if it isn't Charlotte!
I chuckled. I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to see you.
Detective Grey's eyes twinkled with amusement. Uh, does that mean you’ve missed me? You were the one who got too busy for me.
I rolled my eyes. Oh, please, you know I just got busy because I had to help Diana with the baking.
Just as we were talking, Daya Grant joined us. My step-cousin, who lived in Hivensrock, and I had just a month ago in the most mysterious way. Daya was a bubbly, vivacious presence, and it was a delight to see her again. She greeted me with a warm hug and a bright smile.
Charlotte! Nice seeing you,
Daya said, smiling fondly at me.
I returned the hug, equally thrilled to see her. Daya, nice seeing you, too.
However, as the conversation continued, I noticed Daya seemed distracted. She kept glancing at her watch and appeared preoccupied. It was clear that something was on her mind.
Is everything okay, Daya?
I finally asked, unable to ignore her restlessness.
She sighed, her smile fading a bit. I'm sorry, Charlotte. I'm just a bit on edge. I have an important meeting after this event, and I can't help but keep an eye on the time.
I wonder what important meeting she has.
But before I could ask her more, the lights in the theater hall began to dim. A hush fell over the audience, and a voice from backstage announced that Mr. Cole Parkson, the man of the hour, was about to make his opening speech. The anticipation in the room was electric as people made way for their seats.
I held my breath as Mr. Parkson stepped onto the stage, bathed in a spotlight that made him look like a superstar. Cole Parkson. That’s Diana’s former boss!
Mr. Parkson, a seventy-year-old man with silver hair, looked wise and charming. He wore a sharp gray suit with a red tie and sat in an electric wheelchair.
Mr. Parkson was no stranger to Hivensrock, although I had never met him before. He was a well-known figure, a philanthropist who had generously financed the construction of this Grand Theater hall. It made sense that he had been chosen to give the opening speech.
With a gracious smile, he began his speech. His voice resonated throughout the hall. Ladies and gentlemen,
he threw his arms open wide. Tonight we gather not just to celebrate the opening of this magnificent theater but to celebrate the power of art, culture, and community.
His words were like a gentle melody,