Dying for Cupcakes Read online

  Dying for Cupcakes

  Christian Cozy 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

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About PureRead

  PureRead Reader Club

  Introduction

  A Personal Word From PureRead

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  Chapter One

  Sammy Baker glanced at her phone, hoping the GPS was right this time. It had already been a very long drive from New York to Illinois, and the little electronic voice had forced her to make several wrong turns. Road construction season seemed to be in full swing, and neither the new roads nor the ones that had been blocked off seemed to have been updated in the system yet. The rainy September weather hadn’t helped at all, and her wiper blades scraped across the windshield with a grating sound that made her cringe.

  But at least her Toyota RAV4 seemed to be holding up. Greg had said she didn’t need an SUV, that if she insisted on getting a car she should get something smaller and easier to maneuver. But Sammy was grateful for the extra cargo room now that she had packed up her entire life into the car. There were a few things she hadn’t been able to fit inside, but she wasn’t about to go back for them. Greg could have them. He could have their apartment and all the furniture inside it except for her grandmother’s old jewelry chest. He could have his big screen television that he seemed to love so much. He could also have Sammy’s best friend, apparently, since he wanted the skinny little brunette more than he had wanted his own wife.

  Sammy sighed and focused on the road, trying not to think about everything she had left behind. It was behind her for a reason, after all. She had been thinking about returning home to Sunny Cove ever since her father had passed away from a heart attack the previous year, and now she had the perfect excuse.

  If only the road would get her there a little faster. Her lids were heavy as she watched the numerous dollar stores and fast food chains slide by. Things were definitely different here than they were in the big city. Sammy had forgotten just how much more space there was. The buildings were never more than a story or two high, huddling modestly against the ground, and she could actually see the sky all around her. There were actual parking lots instead of massive garages. Trees and strips of green grass interrupted the pavement and asphalt at regular intervals, reminders that the country wasn’t very far away.

  Sipping the last of a Coke that had gone flat and watery in the bottom of a Styrofoam cup, Sammy noticed that there were more and more churches the farther she got into the Midwest. The small towns she passed through still had their truck stops and bars, but even the smallest villages had at least one steeple rising up into the cloudy sky.

  She absently touched the cross that hung around her rearview mirror. It had been a long time since she had been to church. At one time, she had been just as devout as anyone else in her hometown, but that had changed a long time ago, and in less than a month. Every now and then, she would turn to Jesus when her heart was heavy, but she usually ended her prayers with a sense of skepticism. Where had her Savior been when she had needed him so much back in high school? Why hadn’t he saved her from a horrible marriage, wasting almost ten years of her life on someone who had ended up throwing her away like yesterday’s garbage?

  “No. I’m not supposed to think like that. I’m not supposed to feel sorry for myself.” She’d read numerous self-help books, sneaking them home from the library once her marriage had started falling apart. Greg hadn’t been interested in any type of counseling, saying that was for losers, and so Sammy had decided she could do the work herself.

  While she had found a lot of affirmations, Bible quotes, and reminders of just how wonderful a person she was, none of that had helped her when Greg finally found one of the volumes under her pillow. “What is this all about?” he had demanded as he slammed the book down on the kitchen table. “Are you cheating on me or something?”

  Sammy had instantly started shaking, feeling the adrenaline surging through her system. She knew she shouldn’t have felt as though she was “in trouble” for wanting to improve their marriage, but Greg never did anything unless he could be convinced it was his idea first. “I was just doing a little reading. It says that every marriage can use a little help, even if it seems like a good one.”

  “Yeah, right. You’re just trying to brainwash me.” Greg had picked up the book again, this time chucking it into the kitchen trash.

  “Hey, that belongs to the library!” She had immediately fished it out, wiping it off with a paper towel and hoping they wouldn’t end up charging her the twenty-five-dollar cover price for a few new stains. “And it’s not about brainwashing. It’s about communicating.” She had started to get angry then. This wasn’t the first fight they’d had, not by a long shot.

  “Does it say anything about all the time you spend at your charities and volunteer functions instead of at home with me?” he had demanded.

  Sammy’s chest had tightened then. She had carefully scheduled anything she wanted to do around Greg’s schedule, and even when she had wanted to spend time with him during the evening or on a weekend he always had something else to do. She had considered telling him that the book did say something about what a controlling husband he was, but she had just scowled at him instead. It was only a few weeks later that Sammy had discovered just what Greg was doing while Sammy was volunteering at the library or at the local animal shelter.

  Just the memories of those times were making her hands shake again. She swung into the next parking lot, needing a moment to pull herself back together. The lot was nearly empty, with only a few cars near the front. Sammy looked up at the sign over the entryway: First Church of Calmhaven. She checked the GPS, since she didn’t even remember a town like that on the map. It showed up, but only as a small blip. She must have entered the city limits while she was reminiscing about her past.

  Her stomach rumbled. She could see a café just down the street, but something kept her where she was for the moment. The clouds in the sky were dark and ominous, but the light that came through the front doors of the church gave off a warm, yellow glow. But Sammy didn’t belong to this church, and it would be rude to just go wandering in, wouldn’t it?

  That was when she saw the sign just to the left of the door. It showed the times for Sunday and Wednesday services as well as open hours, which were from four to eight. Sammy glanced at the clock on her dash board. It was just a little past five. She could go on down to the café and get back on the road, kno
wing she still had a ways to go before she reached the motel where she planned to stay the night, but instead she put her car in park and got out.

  She stepped tentatively into the lobby, half-expecting someone to appear and demand to know just what she thought she was doing there. But she only found a bulletin board with upcoming events, a table with stacks of flyers, and a donation bin for canned food. A large set of double doors in front of her could only be the sanctuary, and Sammy slowly and quietly opened one of them.

  As she walked up the aisle, she noticed that she wasn’t the only one there. The handful of worshipers were scattered among the pews, each having their own moment with God, and they didn’t turn to look at the newcomer. Sammy sat near the back and tried to slow her breathing. The air smelled faintly of coffee; there was probably a carafe of the cheap stuff somewhere around. The pew was cushioned, and soft organ music played throughout the sanctuary. Sammy pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, practicing the techniques she had read about.

  “Hello, there.”

  The voice next to her was a friendly one, but it startled her nevertheless. Sammy jumped in her seat, turning to find that an elderly woman had joined her in her pew. She had friendly blue eyes that matched her voice, and her hair was a cloud of white around her head. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

  “Oh, no. I mean, no, you haven’t.” Sammy suddenly felt that shaking feeling return. “I was just passing through town, and I thought it was okay, I can leave, I’m sorry.” She started to rise.

  A cool hand on her arm stopped her. “Don’t be silly, dear. Sit. I didn’t come over here to scare you off. It’s just that Calmhaven is a small town, and we tend to notice when someone new comes by. What’s your name?”

  Sammy blinked, trying to quiet herself once again. She had overreacted. Everything seemed to make her a little nervous. She hadn’t been like that when she was younger. While Sammy didn’t want to give Greg any credit for impacting her life, she knew that he had. She cleared her throat. “Sammy Baker.”

  “Is that short for Samantha?” the other woman asked.

  “It is.”

  “Ah. You never know. I knew a little girl once named Maddie, and she spent a lot of time telling everyone that it was absolutely not short for Madeleine. My name is Molly Gertrude. Molly Gertrude Grey.” She held out her hand.

  Sammy shook it, somewhat calmed but still feeling uncertain. Maybe she should have just gone on instead of stopping. She would have to learn to get past her nerves eventually. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Molly Gertrude tipped her head slightly to the side. “What brings you here tonight? You look like something is weighing heavily on your heart.”

  She gave a derisive snort, knowing that her heart might as well be made of lead. “You could say that.”

  Miss Grey nodded and pressed her lips together slightly. “The pastor is with someone at the moment, but I’d be happy to talk to you about it if you’d like.”

  Sammy had no business unloading her sob story onto some stranger. This woman didn’t know her, her ex, or what it had been like to be stuck in that dead-end marriage for almost a decade. But she suddenly found the urge to talk about it, more so than she had in a long time. “My husband left me for another woman, who just happened to be my best friend. I decided to go back home to start my life over, but I’m not really sure what to do with myself anymore.” She choked up a little on the words. When things had started getting bad with Greg, Sammy had realized that her entire life was about to change. The places and people she loved were all different somehow, and she didn’t quite know how to handle it.

  “And you stopped in to talk to God for a little while? That makes perfect sense to me.” Molly Gertrude nodded toward the front of the sanctuary, where a massive wooden cross was softly backlit. “I take great solace in telling Him my burdens, no matter how big or how small.”

  A wave of guilt came over Sammy. She had been selfish in coming here, not taking into account just how important the church was to those who came here regularly. “I’m not so sure He’s listening.”

  Molly Gertrude’s forehead creased with concern. “Why not? God loves all of his children.”

  “Even those who haven’t talked to him for a long time?” She felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I used to believe, you know. I sang in the church choir when I was little, and I went to every single event the youth group put on. But then my life changed. I realized that there were some things even God couldn’t fix for me.” She swiped angrily at her cheek with the back of her hand, removing the hot tear that had spilled over her lashes. So many times, Sammy had thought she had cried until she was out of them, but there always seemed to be more waiting for her.

  “You know, dear, it’s often most difficult to believe in God when we need him most. But I know he heals the brokenhearted. I’ve seen it happen many times. It’s not instant, and Lord knows that’s what we all want these days, but it does happen. And my good friend Jesus has never let me down, not once!”

  “I wish I could have that kind of assurance.” The other woman’s words had been nice ones, but they weren’t enough to convince Sammy that everything would be okay again.

  Molly patted her on the knee. “You will. You just have to believe that God has a plan for you, and remember to embrace forgiveness. You’ll never be able to move on until you can forgive those who have wronged you. Let them and all that negative energy out of your heart so you can make room for love again.”

  Sammy looked down at her lap and smiled. “I’ll try. I guess we’ll see what happens when I get to my old hometown again. I’m a little nervous about it, to be honest. I haven’t been back much.”

  “You’ll do just fine, dear. I know you will. Here.” She produced a business card out of her purse and handed it over. “I don’t know where you’re headed, but if you come this way again be sure to look me up. I’d like to know how things have worked out for you.”

  “Thanks.” She took the business card, noting that Miss Grey was the owner of a bridal agency, of all things. Sammy wouldn’t need her services anytime soon, that was for sure. “I’ll do that. Right now, I’d better get a sandwich or something and hit the road.”

  “Henry and Harriet’s is just down the street. They’ve got the best food in town, and they’re cheap, too. Tell them I sent you. They’re good friends of mine.” She smiled again, her eyes twinkling.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Sammy walked tentatively into Just Like Grandma’s. A little café situated in the middle of town, it was bustling with customers. Young families sat in the booths, and men on their way to work lined the stools in front of the counter. The scent of frying bacon and coffee filled the air, and there was barely enough floor space for Sammy to wind her way to the counter.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the woman frantically running the cash register. “I’m looking for Helen Honeycutt.”

  “I’ll be with you in just a minute, honey.” She turned away, calling down the counter. “Frank! Come down here and get your change! I know you’ve got two feet, and you can use ‘em!”

  A man at the end of the counter quickly hustled to the cash register, but he folded the woman’s hand around the dollar bills she tried to hand him. “Just keep it, Helen. I think you deserve it, especially today.”

  “I don’t care what anybody says, Frank. You’re a good guy.” She pocketed the money, waved to the man as he headed out the door, and turned to Sammy. “Sorry about that. Things are a little crazy around here. If you want to place an order, you might want to make it to go. I don’t think there are any seats free.”

  Sammy could see just how busy the café was, and it made her feel bad for picking this particular hour to come in. “No, I’m Sammy Baker. I’m here about the job and the apartment?” One night as she had taken a break from packing up her entire life, Sammy had gotten online and managed to find the classified ad fr
om Just Like Grandma’s. She hadn’t heard of the place when she had still lived there, but these small restaurants had a habit of changing hands often. The job was one she knew she could do, and it was a big bonus that a small apartment above the café would be included in her pay.

  Helen threw her hands in the air. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here! I was hoping you wouldn’t back out. People who say they’re coming in from out of state usually change their minds before they even cross the city limits, you know. But Jill just quit, and I need you like yesterday. Here.” The owner bustled Sammy around the counter and into the back. “Grab an apron and get started. Table 5 has been waiting on some ketchup for about fifteen minutes.”

  Startled, Sammy plucked a frilly apron off the wall that looked like it belonged to the 1950’s and quickly tied it on. “Is there any training I’m supposed to do? Or paperwork to fill out?”

  “Honey, the best training you’ll ever get is to dive in and get started. As for the paperwork, we can wait until I don’t have people lined up out the door. Just make yourself at home, and you can ask myself or Johnny if you don’t know where something is.” She waved to a man in a greasy apron who was cooking an entire griddle full of food.

  Sammy nodded. She grabbed a bottle of ketchup off a nearby shelf and headed out into the dining area. She’d had her share of food service jobs, but she noticed right away that the tables weren’t tagged with their numbers. Taking a guess, she delivered the condiment and got started. Since there wasn’t any other waitstaff visible, she started in one corner and worked her way around the room.