Read Dying for a Cupcake for Free Online Page B

bedroom. I was tired and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to turn in early. Tomorrow would be a busy day—at least I hoped it would—and I wanted to be on my toes to handle the increased foot traffic in the store. The last thing I recalled after washing my face and changing into my nightshirt was slipping between the crisp sheets and briefly wondering if I had remembered to set my alarm.
    I was having a wonderful dream involving Jake and Noah. The two men were fanning me with palm leaves, feeding me grapes, and assuring me they loved me enough to share me so I didn’t have to choose just one of them, when the strains of the sickeningly sweet and thoroughly annoying “Cupcake Song” blared from my bedside table. Struggling to wake up, I swept the nightstand with my palm, trying to locate my cell phone and quiet the grating music.
    Ronni had insisted that Poppy, Winnie, Harlee, and I make this cloying little ditty sung by Pinkie Pie of MyLittle Pony fame the official emergency ringtone for the contest weekend. I pushed my hair out of my eyes and peered groggily at the glowing numerals of my clock radio. It was three a.m. Why was she calling me at this ungodly hour? The competition hadn’t even started yet. What kind of crisis could there be before dawn? Had she butt-dialed her phone?
    Fumbling my cell off the nightstand and sweeping my finger across the answer icon, I mumbled, “Hello.”
    “Oh, my God!” Ronni’s voice screeched into my ear. “Thank goodness you answered. Fallon’s dead! You have to get here right away.”
    “What?” I tried to clear my sleep-fogged brain. “Are you sure?” I sat on the edge of the mattress. “Have you called an ambulance?”
    “Yes.” Ronni drew in a deep breath, then said, “The EMTs came and were taking her to the hospital, but she died before they got there.”
    “That’s awful.” My mouth suddenly dry, I got up and stumbled into the bathroom in search of a drink of water. “But why do you need me to come over? There’s nothing I can do about the poor girl’s death.”
    “Kizzy is demanding an emergency meeting of the contest committee,” Ronni explained. “I already got ahold of Poppy and Winnie, and they’re on their way, but Harlee isn’t answering her phone.”
    Ronni paused and I could hear a voice that sounded like Kizzy’s shout, “Tell her to swing by Harlee’s place and pick her up.”
    I put my cell on speaker and set it down next to the sink as I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. “Doesn’t Kizzy have to handle Fallon’s death?” A part of me was appalled that the cupcake queen was able to think about the competition at a time like this. But another part of me, the one that wasn’t as nice, understood what ittook for a woman to prosper in a competitive business and admired Kizzy’s single-minded pursuit of success.
    “Lee is taking care of that end,” Ronni answered, then whispered, “Kizzy didn’t think anyone needed to go with the poor girl, but Lee grabbed the car keys and followed the ambulance. She’s keeping us informed, but when I offered to drive Kizzy to the hospital to join her, our esteemed CEO nearly bit my head off.”
    “Informed about what?” I homed in on the important piece of info as I scraped my hair back into a ponytail. After it was secured, I snatched the phone from the bathroom counter, then dashed into the kitchen. I needed to leave Gran a note in case I wasn’t home when she got up. She’d worry if I wasn’t there for breakfast.
    “We’ll discuss all that when you get here.” Ronni reeled off Harlee’s address and added, “Hurry up. Kizzy is driving me insane.”
    Ten minutes later, I pounded on Harlee’s front door. When she didn’t answer, I tried again, but after the third round of knocking, I gave up, hopped in my car, and drove over to Ronni’s place. Either Harlee slept like the dead or she wasn’t at home, and I suspected that neither possibility would satisfy Kizzy.
    When I arrived at the B & B,