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to them here in Shadow Bend? It has to be one of the safest spots on earth.”
    I shivered and traded looks with Poppy, who raised a delicate eyebrow. Evidently, Kizzy didn’t keep in touch with old friends from the area who could have filled her in on Shadow Bend’s recent spate of crimes. She obviously didn’t subscribe to her hometown paper, either. The
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had made sure everyone was fully informed on all the gruesome details.
    Ronni must not have told Kizzy that Shadow Bend wasn’t the same little town that the cupcake mogul had moved away from so many years ago. Not that I blamed Ronni for withholding that little tidbit. No way would a shrewd businesswoman like Kizzy want to hold her big promotional kickoff in a place that had had two homicides in the past four months.
    The table was still placing their orders when Lee Kimbrough arrived a few minutes later. She was an attractive woman in her mid- to late forties who reminded me of Lauren Bacall—tall, cool, and elegant. She even had Bacall’s husky voice and languid mannerisms.
    After Lee was introduced, and told the waitress what she wanted to eat, she explained, “The delivery service called and said that they’d be another ten or fifteen minutes, so Fallon offered to wait and told me to go on ahead.”
    “I wonder what’s in the package.” Kizzy frowned. “I’m not expecting anything.”
    “Maybe it’s a good-luck gift from one of your friends,” Lee suggested.
    “Maybe,” Kizzy agreed.
    Just as our food was served, Kizzy got a call and answered it by pressing the speaker on her cell phone. We could all hear Fallon identify herself.
    We listened as she said, “The delivery driver finally showed up, but now I don’t feel well, so I’m not coming to the restaurant. I’m going to lie down and see if the nausea goes away.”
    “Fine.” Kizzy’s lack of interest in the conversation was evident in her voice.
    “I have a really bad taste in my mouth,” Fallon went on, even though Kizzy didn’t encourage her. “I feel headachy and dizzy. Maybe I’m getting the flu.”
    “Uh-huh.” Kizzy listened to all this with a distracted air, then said, “Whatever, dear.” She quickly disconnected, gave the rest of us a bright smile, and said, “Let’s eat.”
    I was a bit surprised that neither Kizzy nor Lee seemed concerned about their employee’s health. On the other hand, perhaps Fallon tended to be hypochondriacal and her headaches were common occurrences.
    Now that Fallon’s whereabouts had been accounted for, we all relaxed. The food was delicious and Kizzy entertained us with the story of starting up her business. She took a sip of her lychee martini, then continued. “So when I finally was able to submit my resignation and devote my full attention to Kizzy Cutler’s Cupcakes, the owner of the bakery said to me, ‘Running your own company is a lot of work. You won’t have time for a personal life. You know that money can’t buy happiness.’”
    “What did you say?” Ronni asked.
    “I told her that whoever had started that vicious rumor simply didn’t know where to shop.” Kizzy laughed.
    We all chuckled and I relaxed. There was a generally optimistic vibe about the success of the cupcake contest weekend and I felt hopeful that the event would be the financial boost we all were counting on.
    The dinner meeting broke up around nine thirty, and by the time I got home, Gran was already asleep. The lights in Dad’s apartment over the garage had been on, but I still wasn’t comfortable enough with our relationship to stop by for a nightcap or a father-daughter chat. After twelve years apart, we were still tiptoeing around each other. We weren’t at ease enough for the casual rapport we used to have, but we had too much history to act as reserved as we truly felt. It was an odd situation to be in and neither of us was sure where we stood with the other.
    Shoving the issue of my precarious relationship with Dad aside, I headed to my