A Killer Cake Read online

  The First Time Ever Published!

  The Third Book in the Brand New Classic Diner Mystery Series from Jessica Beck, the

  New York Times Bestselling Author of The Donut Shop Mysteries!

  The Classic Diner Mystery Series

  Book 3

  A KILLER CAKE

  by

  Jessica Beck

  Books by Jessica Beck

  The Classic Diner Mysteries

  A Chili Death

  A Deadly Beef

  A Killer Cake

  A Baked Ham (coming 2013)

  The Donut Shop Mysteries

  Glazed Murder

  Fatally Frosted

  Sinister Sprinkles

  Evil Éclairs

  Tragic Toppings

  Killer Crullers

  Drop Dead Chocolate

  Powdered Peril

  Illegally Iced

  To all the waitresses who have ever called me Honey, Sweetie, or Dear!

  A KILLER CAKE: Copyright © 2012

  All rights reserved.

  Cozy Publishing

  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 author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Recipes included in this book are to be recreated at the reader’s own risk. The author is not responsible for any damage, medical or otherwise, created as a result of reproducing these recipes. It is the responsibility of the reader to ensure that none of the ingredients are detrimental to their health, and the author will not be held liable in any way for any problems that might arise from following the included recipes.

  Chapter 1

  The instant the cannon went off, everybody gathered in the town square for Jasper Fork’s bicentennial celebration believed that the Civil War weapon was responsible for killing Roy Thompson. After all, his seat at the long table filled with folks eating lunch and having dessert was in the direct line of fire of the old weaponry.

  However, it turned out that the chamber was indeed empty when it had been fired, and though either the noise or the ensuing shock wave of the explosion could have been enough to stop his heart, neither had been the cause of his death.

  It wasn’t long before I found myself wishing that the cannon had indeed been the reason for Roy’s demise. Soon enough, word spread through town like a hurricane that what really did him in was the Jasper Fork bicentennial cake. The fact that my diner had provided it for the festivities meant that once again, my family was in the crosshairs of another murder investigation.

  My name is Victoria Nelson, and along with my sometimes dysfunctional but always loving family, I run The Charming Moose Diner. The place was named after my grandfather a long time ago, and I loved the distinctive moniker. It’s easy enough to explain how we ended up volunteering to bake the murder weapon for our town’s celebration, but it might be better to go back to the day before Roy collapsed after taking his first bite of our cake.

  “Moose, we’re going to do this free of charge, and that’s final,” I told my grandfather during the lull between lunch and dinner as we brainstormed about what kind of cake Greg should make as our donation to the celebration. “Even if it weren’t good for our image, which we both know it is, I feel as though we owe it to the community.”

  “Victoria, I’m as civic-minded as the next man, but would it hurt for the Celebration Fund to at least cover our expenses? We’re talking about a great deal of materials to make as much cake as they’re asking us to provide, and I’m willing to bet that not everyone in town is doing something for nothing.”

  I looked over at my husband, who was at his regular station working the grill in the kitchen of The Charming Moose. “Greg, I’m getting hoarse. Why don’t you try talking to him?”

  My husband grinned at me happily as he said, “Oh, no. Not me. I’m not about to get between the two of you. You can handle the executive decisions around here on your own. I’m just a fry cook.”

  “You’re a great deal more than that, and you know it,” I said. I owned the place on paper these days, but I couldn’t run it without Greg and my mother, who also worked the grill, not to mention the two women we had on staff who came in to waitress. Even Moose and my grandmother, Martha, helped out on occasion, and if the circumstances were dire enough, my father would pitch in, though he’d had his turn running the diner before I’d taken over, and everyone agreed that hadn’t been a good match at all.

  “Sure, I know that I’m handy back here,” Greg said as he flipped a burger, “but I have no desire to get involved in your discussion. I’m happy to bake whatever you ask me to, but that’s the extent of how much I’m willing to get involved.”

  “Victoria, let’s be reasonable,” my grandfather said in that calming voice he sometimes used to try to get his way. “What would it hurt to ask the committee for a few dollars so that we at least meet our expenses?”

  I shook my head. “You don’t get it, Moose. You know as well as I do that we’ve had some trouble lately with our reputation in Jasper Fork. I don’t know exactly why we were cursed, but murder has been finding its way to our doorstep much too much over the past several months, and I’m beginning to wonder what folks are starting to say about us. Wouldn’t it be nice if, for once, they were openly complimenting our contribution to the celebration, instead of whispering behind our backs that there’s a dark shadow over our threshold these days?”

  “Who’s saying that?” Moose asked a little heatedly, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was ready to go out and confront whoever I named. What my grandfather lacked in subtlety, he made up for with a blunt force that was nearly unstoppable. I liked to think that I was a little more gifted in the finesse department, but that was what made us such a good team. We’d solved the murders that had come our way in the past, or at least survived them, which was saying something, but what I really loved doing was running The Charming Moose. Sure, my hours were crazy, and the demands could be overwhelming at times, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be than at the register or behind the counter serving our customers.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a list of names for you,” I said with a smile as I patted his shoulder. “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t be that hard to believe that it’s happening, would it, given our recent history?”

  “I don’t know,” Moose said after a moment’s pause. “Maybe you’re right.”

  It took me a full second to realize that he’d just agreed with me. “Pardon me? Would you mind saying that one more time?”

  “Don’t ask me to repeat it,” my grandfather said with a grin. “I’m not sure that I can bring myself to do it.”

  I kissed his cheek. “Thanks for saying it even once. I won’t ask you to say it again. Moose, don’t worry so much. We can afford to do this on the house, and the goodwill we’re going to get out of it will be totally worth it. Now, what kind of cake should we make?”

  “I don’t know; what’s the cheapest one we can do, Greg?” he asked my husband.

  Greg just laughed at the question and continued to work on the meal orders that were in line. Sometimes it drove me crazy when he acted that way, but there were definitely times when I admired my husband’s ability to gleefully ignore any and all questions he didn’t want to answer.

  There were moments when I wished that I knew how to do it myself.

  “Forget about what it costs,” I told Greg. “Just make something that
we’ll be proud to contribute.”

  “You’re both in luck. I might be able to satisfy your requests with one cake,” he said as he plated some meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was our daily special today, and Greg was always ready to serve an army when it came up in the rotation. It was that popular. “I could always make my famous Lemon Drop cake with cream cheese icing. Would that be okay?”

  “It’s perfect,” Moose and I said in unison, and then we all shared a smile. It appeared that The Charming Moose’s contribution was going to put our best foot forward to the community again. I just hoped it made folks forget how often murder had played a part in our lives recently.

  “What a jerk,” Jenny Hollister said as she stormed into the kitchen a little after six. “I’ll tell you one thing. He’s lucky I didn’t slam that pie into his face.”

  Jenny was our late-afternoon to early-evening waitress at the diner, a sweet and good-natured college student who normally didn’t have a cross word for anyone.

  “Who are you talking about?” I asked as stood. I’d been keeping Greg company for a few minutes in the kitchen, something I tried to do at least once every evening. From where I sat, I could see the cash register through the pickup window, and the front door as well, so if Jenny ever needed me, I’d be right there.

  “Roy Thompson,” she said, saying his name as though it were something bad that might be contagious.

  “What did he do this time?” I asked. Roy was an older man, somewhere in his early seventies, who owned quite a bit of land around town. Rumor was that he’d never been all that pleasant to be around, and clearly, age had done nothing to mellow him. It had been my experience that some older men grew older with grace and became a joy to have at our diner with their pleasant demeanors, but others didn’t take to the aging process nearly as well. Roy was definitely in that camp. Not a week went by that he didn’t complain about something he ordered at the diner, and apparently, today was no exception.

  “He said that the only thing worse here than the food was my service. I saw the money he put beside his ticket, and it’s pretty clear that he’s leaving me a grand total of seven cents as a tip.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” Greg said as his smile disappeared and he reached for a nearby meat cleaver. “I’m fed up with that man, and I’m going to settle things once and for all.”

  “Hang on just a second,” I said as I stood between my husband and the door to the dining room. “I know how protective you are of Jenny and Ellen, but I’ll handle this. After all, it’s my responsibility, remember? You deal with the kitchen, and everything else is mine.”

  Greg frowned as the cleaver bobbed up and down in his hand. “Victoria, why don’t you let me take a swing at it myself just this once?”

  “With that?” I asked with a smile as I took the cleaver out of his hand and put it on the counter. “Greg, I don’t need weapons to shred the man. I happen to agree with you, though. Enough is enough.”

  Jenny spoke up in Roy’s defense, to my amazement. “Listen, maybe I overreacted. He’s not that bad. It just hit me wrong tonight. There’s no need for either one of you to say anything to him. I’m fine, really.”

  I shook my head. “You’re not the only one he’s antagonized here,” I said. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we don’t need that man’s business any more if he can’t learn to behave himself.” I walked out of the kitchen and headed straight for Roy’s table. It was remarkable how well the man had aged; he was still as handsome as ever. It was just a shame that what was on the inside didn’t match the exterior. The diner had half a dozen other diners there enjoying a meal, and the second they saw the expression on my face, all the other conversations shut down instantly. It was pretty clear that we were going to have an audience, but frankly, at that point I didn’t care.

  “I understand that you have a problem with the food and the service at The Charming Moose this evening,” I said firmly.

  He grinned at me with a wicked smile. Evidently this was better than he’d been hoping for. “As a matter of fact, I’m not sure which is worse. The food is swill, and the service is virtually nonexistent. What’s the matter? Did Jenny come crying to you about me airing a few legitimate complaints?”

  I did my best to keep my temper in check as I said, “Roy, we’ve had this conversation before, and frankly, I’m tired of having it. If you don’t like the food or the service here, why do you insist on coming back week after week?”

  “Honestly, I keep hoping that either the food or the service will improve, but neither one has managed to do it yet.”

  “That’s it,” I said as I picked up his check, ignoring his careful stack of ones and the change sitting right beside it, and tore the bill in two. “Don’t worry about your check. This meal’s on the house.”

  Before I could finish, Roy smiled brightly at me. “It’s about time you admitted your mistakes and actually felt guilty about what you do here.”

  I smiled right back at him, but there was not an ounce of warmth in it. “You don’t get it, Roy. The reason this meal is free is because it’s the last time you’re ever going to eat here. As of right now, you are no longer welcome at The Charming Moose, at least not until your manners improve. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “You can’t keep me out just because I’m honest!” he said, stammering in anger. Not many folks were willing to stand up to the rich man, but I was. If he didn’t like it, what could he do, refuse to come back? I’d already taken care of that. As much as I hated banning a paying customer, this man needed it if anyone ever had.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Read the sign under the register,” I said as I pointed toward it. Moose had put up the declaration before he’d first opened the diner’s front door, and it gave us the right to refuse service to anyone, for any reason. It was a rare day that we enforced it, but I was always glad that it was there, just in case.

  “I’m afraid that you are the one who is mistaken. We’ll see about the legality of your sign. You can trust that my lawyers will be here first thing tomorrow morning,” Roy said as he stood.

  “You can send a judge on your behalf if you’d like, but my decision stands. I’ll serve them all as long as they’re polite, but I won’t change my mind.” I shouldn’t have added the next bit, and I knew it as soon as the words left my lips, but I couldn’t help myself. “Now, are you going to go peacefully, or do I have to get my husband and his meat cleaver out here to persuade you to leave a place where you’re not welcome?”

  Roy clearly didn’t like that, but he got up and headed for the door anyway.

  I couldn’t let it go at that, though. I had to add, “Hey, Roy. You forgot your money.”

  “Keep it,” he growled, and then he left.

  I watched him go, and then I was startled to hear a burst of applause coming from the dining room as well as the kitchen, where the door stood open as Greg and Jenny joined in. I was a little embarrassed by the display as I made my way back into the kitchen.

  “I suppose you two saw all of that,” I said to my staff.

  “I just wish I had it on tape,” Greg said.

  Jenny stepped forward and hugged me. “Nobody’s ever defended me like that before. You rock, Victoria.”

  I didn’t want her to know that I’d actually done it for the diner, but then again, she was just as much a part of The Charming Moose as anyone else on staff, including me and my family, so in a way, it was true enough.

  Moose came by as we were closing. He had an odd expression on his face. “Can we have a word, Victoria?” he asked me.

  “Sure, fire away,” I said as I locked the door behind him and flipped the sign from Open to Closed. “What’s up?”

  “I understand you had some words with Roy Thompson earlier.”

  “As a matter of fact, I threw him out,” I said adamantly. “Do you have a problem with that, Moose?”

  He couldn’t hold back his smile any longer. “Are you kidding?”
my grandfather said with a hearty laugh. “I’m proud of you. Victoria, I’d give you a medal if I had one. Thompson’s been asking for that for years, and I for one am glad that you finally pulled the trigger.”

  I wasn’t as confident in my decision as I had been, so it was good to hear that Moose approved. During the hour since I’d booted Roy Thompson from the diner, I’d had time to mull things over, and I was more than a little worried about the barrage of attorneys I was certain Roy had at his disposal. In hindsight, it was almost as though I’d gone out of my way to alienate the man, practically daring him to sue us. “Aren’t you worried about the ramifications?” I asked him.

  “I heard his threat of bringing a thousand lawyers after us, but we’ve got Rebecca, so why should we worry?”

  “Is that what folks are saying? He never mentioned a specific number.”

  “You know how folks are around here,” Moose said with a laugh. “By tomorrow morning, it will be up to ten thousand, and by tomorrow night, I’m willing to bet that it will top a million.”

  “Well, we all know that he has money enough to afford whatever he wants to do to us.”

  Moose put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry so much. Tonight, you did more for The Charming Moose’s goodwill than us baking a thousand cakes. Speaking of which, has Greg gotten started yet?”

  “He’s about to put the first batch in the oven,” I said.

  “How many is he making?”

  “We figure half a dozen sheet cakes should do the trick,” I said. “He’ll be up half the night baking, and I’m going to stay here with him.”

  “Care to make it a party?” Moose suggested. “We can call your mother, and with two of them working, they can cut that time in half.”

  “She’s already on her way,” I said. Mom worked the grill during the morning shift, and she was nearly as good as my husband, but when it came to baking, I had to give Greg the edge.