Wedding Cake Wipe Out Read online

  Wedding Cake Wipeout - Christian Cozy Mystery

  A Molly Grey Mystery

  Donna Doyle

  PURE READ

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  © 2018 PureRead Ltd

  PureRead.com

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. A disastrous wedding

  2. Molly Gertrude and Dora

  3. Was it really an accident?

  4. Strange discoveries

  5. An annoying little, old lady

  6. Finney sheds his light on the case

  7. Papa Julian

  8. Adventures in the tearoom

  9. More puzzle pieces fall into place

  10. Sheriff Barnes

  11. The Break-in

  12. Confrontations

  13. A Visit to Trenton Valley

  14. More Secrets Revealed

  15. Sleuthing at Portman Road

  16. Rattling Albert Finney

  17. The Birthday Party

  18. Solving the Case

  19. All’s Well That Ends Well

  About PureRead

  PureRead Reader Club

  Introduction

  A Personal Word From PureRead

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  1

  A disastrous wedding

  Calmhaven, June 12

  The day of the wedding.

  At first people thought it was a prank.

  An ill-chosen joke, concocted no doubt by the groom, Billy Monroe. That man was known for his morbid sense of humor, and he somehow must have talked his father-in-law, Abe Mortimer, into behaving like a clown on the day of the wedding.

  And truth be told, at first when everyone still thought it was a joke, it was indeed a little funny, seeing the man making weird faces while sputtering, turning bright red and keeling over.

  But surely it was all a dumb stunt as nobody ever chokes on a piece of soft, spongy wedding-cake.

  But Abe Mortimer did.

  After Billy had served his father-in-law a sumptuous piece of the cake, and the jolly, old man had taken a huge bite with shiny eyes, the trouble began. First he turned red, and he coughed, puffed and rattled. It caused some of the guests to let out an obedient chuckle. After all, when the father of the bride cracks a joke, one is supposed to laugh, and with an irresponsible young man like Billy Monroe as your son-in-law, jokes like this can be expected.

  Of course the champagne did not help either. Apparently, Abe Mortimer had given himself permission to start on the sparkling wine early, even though the party was only half over, the man had already downed several glasses of the bubbly stuff. On a day like this though, much could be forgiven.

  But then, when he began to wildly sway his arms around, his mouth covered with the sweet, sticky cream from the cake, and he hit the top layer of the cake with his right fist, thus effectively destroying the culinary marvel of master cake maker Albert Finney, people began to wonder.

  This was not a joke at all.

  Something was terribly wrong and poor Abe Mortimer was in trouble. A piece of cake had gotten stuck in the wrong pipe, and he needed help!

  People began to scream left and right.

  "A doctor," Billy Monroe screamed, not knowing what else to do. "Is there a doctor around?"

  One of the waiters showed great presence of mind, and ran up with a glass of red wine so Abe Mortimer could clear the sugary rubble in his lungs. But it was too little, too late.

  As Abe jerked the glass out of the waiter's hand and gulped down the exquisite Musigny Gran Cru 2012, he gurgled and sank to his knees. The wineglass slipped out of his hand and shattered in a thousand pieces on the floor.

  The bride, Charmayne Mortimer, let out a scream and ran to her Daddy. Not caring about her wedding dress, she dropped to her knees and took her Daddy's head in her arms. "Please, Daddy... " She turned around and cried in a hysterical, high-pitched voice, "Somebody help…! Please… Daddy is not well."

  And then, right when Abe Mortimer looked into the face of his beloved daughter, he relaxed, and something that could be classified as a very weak smile appeared on his face. It happened right before paramedics, running through the bewildered guests, scooped the old man up onto a stretcher and rushed him outside to the waiting ambulance. A terrified hush settled over the wedding room. Was the irrepressible Abe Mortimer…. dead?

  For what seemed like an eternity, but was no doubt no more than a few seconds, nobody even spoke, and besides the tune of "Love is in the Air," that was playing through the speakers in the background, not a sound was heard. No one could believe that dear Abe Mortimer, the well-known Mayor of the town of Calmhaven, had left the building in such a shocking way.

  What an unfortunate accident. And during the wedding of Charmayne and Billy Monroe. Things couldn't be worse.

  Nobody at the wedding of Abe’s only daughter knew what to say. All they could do now was pray. There were no words to describe what had happened.

  And Molly Gertrude Grey did pray. “Lord, save your servant, Abe. Spare his life, Lord.”

  She had seen the whole thing happening from afar, almost as if in slow-motion. As the terrible scene unfolded before her eyes in all of its horror, she whispered a silent heartfelt prayer. Dear God, what in the world is happening? But God did not tell her at that moment. She knew deep in her heart that God was in control, and right now she did not really expect an answer. It was more an outcry of desperation as she saw her friend struggling.

  She knew Abe Mortimer well. He had been a personal friend ever since he had turned away from his less than honest ways several years ago, and had joined Pastor Julian's church. Pastor Julian, known affectionately as Papa Julian, had really taken Abe under his wing. "Miss Molly…," Abe had told her with a solemn expression on the day of his baptism, "…from now on, I will walk the straight and narrow. My past is buried and I am a new man."

  And he had been true to his words, as he tirelessly gave himself to the many projects of the community, and was soon chosen as a deacon in Papa Julian's church.

  And now he was rushing to Greenacre’s emergency department as limp as an old dish cloth. The victim of a rogue sponge cake!

  Abe had been in excellent health, and could eat like a wolf. As far as Molly could remember, the dear man never had any problems with swallowing food before.

  Then again, there's always a first time for everything.

  Right next to Molly stood her assistant, Dora Brightside.

  Normally she was a great support in the running of the agency. She was sensible, intelligent, sharp and meticulously organized. But not now.

  At this moment Dora, dressed in white slacks and a hairy white sweater with black buttons, looked more like a ruffled polar bear than a bright assistant, and her face was as white as the clothes she was wearing. For an instant, Molly even feared Dora would faint. The
poor woman seemed in shock as she continually moved her lips without uttering a sound.

  Molly pinched her hard in the arm. "Snap out of it, Dora."

  It worked. Dora let out a deep sigh and looked with unbelieving eyes at Molly. "Oh, Miss Molly…," she said, "…what a terrible, terrible thing to happen."

  Molly Gertrude nodded. It was. A most unfortunate incident, and very strange as well.

  The whole place was stunned to an eerie silence, and even though Billy Monroe and Charmayne Mortimer were officially man and wife, nobody wore a smile anymore. This day was ruined.

  But all the while, Molly Gertrude kept thinking. Something just didn't sit right. What are the chances of anybody choking on soft creamy cake? Of course, people had died of stranger things before, like the man she'd read about who died of swallowing a fly, but still it was strange. And why had Billy Monroe made that unusual move just before his father-in-law fell over?

  He had refused to eat the first bite of cake, insisting Abe Mortimer took the first mouthful. It was a well-known tradition that the bride and the groom would cut the cake together, and then, with the photographer clicking away on his fancy camera, the two love birds would feed each other the first blissful morsels.

  But that had not happened this time.

  After Billy and Charmayne had cut the cake together with a very sharp knife, and everyone was waiting for that golden moment when they would stuff the wedding cake into each other's mouth, getting the gooey stuff all over their faces, Billy had unexpectedly and loudly proclaimed, "Today, I break a tradition out of deep respect for my precious father-in-law."

  Huh? What's he up too? Everyone had wondered what he was going to do.

  He had turned to his father-in-law and spoken in cheerful tones, "Father… Abe… I want you to eat the cake first, before anyone else does. You deserve it, as you are the best. This is to honor you."

  Strange.

  Why did he put Abe on the spot like that? Abe had refused at first, and had tried to wave away the piece that Billy held up before him. "No, Billy… The first piece of the wedding cake always needs to be eaten by the bride and the bridegroom.”

  Billy only shook his head. "No, Abe… The honor is yours." Then he had practically forced the wedding cake on his father-in-law. Only seconds later the poor man was lying on the floor.

  Molly Gertrude stared at the scene before her. Billy was holding the wrenching Charmayne, who was wailing and weeping in long, drawn out, hysterical howls, as he unsuccessfully tried to comfort her. At this moment nothing and nobody could offer the poor girl any comfort.

  It was then that a chilling thought hit Molly Gertrude. What if this wasn't an accident? What if somebody had tried to kill Abe Mortimer?

  The thought shocked her, and at first she tried to push it out of her mind. Clearly, she was reading too many mystery novels… This had been nothing but an unfortunate accident.

  Still, the thought was clear and persistent, and Molly Gertrude had been around long enough to know that when she felt this way about something, she should not just brush it off as nonsense.

  Of course it was too early to tell, but Molly Gertrude decided then and there that when Sheriff J.J. Barnes arrived, she would have to tell him to make sure to check the contents of that cake. It could have been an accident… but what if it wasn't? That first piece of cake could have been poisoned. If it had, it would be easy to spot and then Billy had some explaining to do. Molly Gertrude noticed that the helpful waiter, apparently trying to be even more helpful, was just throwing away the remains of the broken wine glass in a garbage bag, and was preparing to remove the remains of the cake.

  "Nooo!" Molly Gertrude screamed as she ran forward as fast as her old legs could carry her, while she occasionally waved her walking cane in the air.

  The waiter saw her coming, threw down the dustpan with the remains of the cake he had collected, jumped up in alarm and began wildly scratching his curly hair. "I-I just wanted to clean up."

  "Around a potential crime scene?” Molly Gertrude whispered, giving him a silent scowl. Then she hissed, "Don't touch the cake."

  The waiter stared at her with an empty glance and stuttering, “A crime scene? Have you lost your marbles, lady? Sure I’ll leave it… as long as I don't get fired for not cleaning up the mess." Clearly he had never been on the scene of an attempted murder before!

  The man’s cheeks flushed. Molly didn’t know if he was embarrassed or angry at her correction, and quite frankly didn’t care. Even if she was wrong, which she probably was, she had read enough detective stories to know that nothing should be touched around a the scene of a misdemeanor until the police had given the okay. The waiter scurried away with the garbage bag in hand and tail between his legs.

  At that time some sirens were heard in the distance and soon several police cars with blue, flashing lights appeared at the scene.

  Sheriff J.J. Barnes had arrived, accompanied by his young assistant, Deputy Sheriff Dawson Digby.

  2

  Molly Gertrude and Dora

  Calmhaven- June 11

  The day before the wedding

  "Still want to come in for a cup of raspberry tea, Dora? I picked up some of your favorite homemade Silky Citrus Curd Cookies last night…" Molly Gertrude cast Dora a sideway glance as she was about to open the door of the car. When Dora arched her brows, Molly Gertrude nodded with her head towards her front door in an inviting way.

  "Did you say Silky Citrus Curd Cookies from Tilly’s store?" Dora gave Molly Gertrude one of her broad smiles. Her auburn ponytail bobbed with pleasure as she answered. "It's been a long day, Miss Molly, and I am a little tired… but that is an offer I can't refuse." She licked her lips at the prospect of Tilly’s homemade delicacies. "I've got not much else planned for the evening anyway."

  Molly Gertrude seemed pleased. She opened the door of Dora's second-hand Kia Rio and while she wormed her aging body out of the car she let out a sigh. "Cars were not invented for old people."

  Dora chuckled as she turned off the motor. She climbed out herself without much effort and said in a cheerful voice, "Don't complain, Miss Molly. Imagine you would have to walk everywhere by yourself."

  Molly Gertrude nodded as she waited for Dora to join her so they could walk together to her front door. "You are right, dear…," she said as she slid her arm around Dora's. "I am a grumpy old lady who is ever so grateful for all you do for me." She looked up into Dora's brown eyes that were peering at her from behind the enormous pink glasses that were perched on her nose. "I couldn't really do it without you, Dora. How long have you actually been helping me with the agency?"

  Dora shrugged her shoulders as they walked towards Molly Gertrude's front door. "Next month it will be exactly ten years, I think."

  Molly Gertrude stopped at the porch and looked up at Dora with her brows cocked in surprise. The wind was playing with a lock of her short, white hair that was usually kept in immaculate shape by the rollers she had used for at least fifty years. "Has it really been that long? My, oh my… Time sure flies," she snickered. "Ten years ago I was still considering myself a young doe."

  Dora giggled, but did not dare to contradict her.

  When Dora first started working for Miss Molly Gertrude Grey, the stubborn lady wouldn't use her cane, therefore she tilted when she walked. With much love Dora teased her about tilting and affectionately joked about Molly’s stubbornness at times.

  After Molly Gertrude had rummaged in her brown leather handbag (the small one that sported the finger-sized glass image of her cat Misty) she found her house key, and seconds later the door swung open with a loud creak.

  A small suburban house it was, right on the edge of town in a quiet neighborhood of Calmhaven, and just at the beginning of the vast forest that stretched out all the way to the coast. The house itself was nothing fancy, but it was clean, not too big, and not too small. It had a lovely rose garden in front, a small patio in the back where Molly Gertrude always loved to sit on a warm summe
r evening, and inside there was a place for everything and everything was in its place. Just the way Molly Gertrude liked it.

  Even though Molly Gertrude was certainly aging, she felt age was never an excuse to let things slide, and as long as she could still get up in the mornings she was determined to keep her surroundings clean and well-organized.

  "Imagine the Good Lord would show up for a visit," she would often chuckle. "I wouldn't want him to wrinkle his nose and shake his head because I failed to keep my place neat, would I?"

  "I guess not," Dora would answer dutifully, and she would invariably wonder if she would be just as perky as Miss Molly when she herself reached such a respectable age.

  But the years were beginning to tell on Molly with her wavy, white hair and her endearing smile. In the mornings she was, and these were her own words, as stiff as a dried-out sausage, but in spite of her increasing physical ailments, the little pains and the sometimes not so little pains, she kept the place shiny and in pristine condition. And, truth be told, she had more life and spunk in her than many people half her age.

  Of course, for the major jobs in the home she called in outside help. Just recently, Aaron Taylor had renovated the roof of her house for a special price. The roof had begun to leak in a storm and Aaron was called in the very next morning. It took him two full days, but when he was done, he boasted with a grand smile the covering was good again for another fifty years.