Creamsicle Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 11 (Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Read online

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2015 by Maven Publishing - All rights reserved.

  All rights Reserved. No part of this publication or the information in it may be quoted from or reproduced in any form by means such as printing, scanning, photocopying or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 1

  Cupcake shop owner, Melissa Gladstone was practically run over by Cheryl Radigan, the manager of her LaChance, Louisiana shop, Missy’s Muffins and More, when she came in the door on Monday morning.

  “Omigosh, Ms. G., you had a phone call that you have to return! My heart is still pounding, and it came in like 10 minutes ago,” Cheryl was breathless and practically jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Whoa, slow down there, girl,” Missy teased. “What has you so worked up on this fine Louisiana morning?” she asked, heading for the gleaming commercial kitchen.

  “You will not believe who called here asking for you this morning,” she said, bursting to blurt out the info.

  “Santa Claus?” Missy asked, flipping through her recipe book and deciding to create a new recipe for tomorrow’s Cupcake of the Day.

  “Ms. G.! I’m serious, this is really important,” Cheryl insisted, frustrated at the owner’s distracted air.

  Missy put the book down and grinned indulgently. “Fine, who called, my dear?”

  Cheryl’s eyes sparkled as she finally had the opening to break her exciting news. “A representative from the office of Ivana Cherie,” she announced, smugly.

  “Yvonne who?” Missy raised an eyebrow, clearly out of touch with popular culture.

  “Are you serious?” her manager was astounded. “You’ve never heard of Ivana Cherie??? She’s like, the hottest thing in Hollywood!”

  “Hmm…that’s interesting. Why on earth would a representative of someone from Hollywood be calling me?” she wondered aloud.

  “Wow, how can you be so young and cool and not know anything about this stuff?” Cheryl asked, shaking her head.

  “You called me young and cool, remind me to give you a raise,” the fortysomething blonde joked.

  “Don’t worry, I will. Ivana Cherie is going to be filming a movie here, starting in a couple of weeks. You need to call her rep back – they may want to use the shop for a scene or something, wow, wouldn’t that be amazing!” the star-struck girl gushed.

  “Umm…I’m thinking no,” Missy looked at her manager pointedly. “This is a business, not a movie set. We have a responsibility to our customers.”

  “But what if it makes you famous? You could think of it as free advertising!”

  “Famous? No, thank you. I’ve gotten through life just fine so far without paparazzi following my every move and I’d like to keep it that way,” she shook her head.

  “Fine,” Cheryl sulked. “But will you at least just call her back?” she pleaded.

  “Of course. I’m a professional,” Missy winked at her frustrated manager, taking the message from her hand.

  As it turned out, Miss Cherie’s assistant, Lola, was very pleasant. The reason for her call was her employer’s “pretty obsessive” relationship with cupcakes. Apparently, the diva eats three cupcakes a day, which, judging by her online photos, means she must work out several times a day as well. Her rules regarding her cupcake consumption were fixed and immovable. She refused to eat the same flavor of cupcake twice in one week, the baking cups used had to be foil, not paper, and had to be a color that was compatible with the cupcake, no plain silver foil was allowed. She liked granular sugar sprinkles, but no powdered sugar, under any circumstances, and any frosting had to be swirled, not spread. Missy had some serious misgivings about working with someone who was so particular, but had changed her mind when she heard the weekly sum that would be paid for her services.

  When Missy agreed to be interviewed as a prospective cupcake provider, Lola set up a time to fly out to meet her and do a tasting on behalf of Ivana. The star’s assistant was required to sample no fewer than twenty-one flavors and/or varieties, because filming was expected to take at least three weeks, and there had to be an adequate variety available. Missy would be generously compensated for the tasting and her time, so, shaking her head in amusement, she agreed to take the appointment.

  Chapter 2

  “Good morning, Miss Gladstone, I’m Lola Allure, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the most beautiful ebony-skinned woman she’d ever seen purred, extending a perfectly manicured hand.

  Cheryl was watching wide-eyed from behind the front counter, trying not to gawk at the elegant woman or the sleek white limousine in which she had arrived. Missy had set up the tasting on one of the spotless stainless steel counters in the kitchen. Each flavor of cupcake was in a foil cup that complemented the frosting, the frosting was swirled, as directed, and there was no powdered sugar to be found.

  “Thank you for taking the time to do this,” Lola smiled. “These look absolutely delicious, she commented, taking in the lovely display of culinary art.

  “My pleasure, I hope you enjoy them.”

  “I’ll be hitting the treadmill at the hotel, for sure,” the assistant giggled. “But oh my, it’s going to be worth it.”

  Each cupcake had a placard in front of it with the name and flavor details. Moving first to “Margarita Madness,” Lola took a photo, picked up the cupcake and took a delicate bite.

  “Oh my goodness, are the green sprinkles on top little salt crystals?” she asked, impressed.

  Missy nodded.

  “I love this! I think Ivana is going to be so pleased if the others are even half this good,” she said, making notes on her phone while blotting at her lips with a napkin.

  “Would you like some coffee? Or ice water?” Missy offered.

  “Both, please,” she requested, moving along the line of cupcakes to the Carob Cappuccino Cream, having a similar reaction when she tasted it. She informed Missy after trying just three, that they would definitely be extending her an offer to do business during filming, then proceeded to try the rest of the flavors.

  “Melissa, there was not one cupcake here that is anything but spectacular,” she beamed, obviously pleased. “I will speak to Ivana, and send over a contract upon my return, thank you so much for your time.”

  “My pleasure,” Missy smiled and showed her out, a bit stunned that she was going to be providing cupcakes to a movie star for three weeks and making as much money as she did in six months of regular business.

  Cheryl and
the rest of Missy’s staff, at both stores, were thrilled to hear that they were going to be providing cupcakes for an internationally-known movie star, and speculated wildly about what she’d be like and the chances they might have of being cast as an extra. Missy assured them that, with the extra demand that would be created by having a movie filmed in their town, she’d need them to help out at the shops, rather than standing around for hours on end at a movie set.

  **

  “Cupcakes for the stars…what a concept,” Detective Chas Beckett, Missy’s handsome, lantern-jawed Significant Other, teased.

  “I’ve never even met anyone famous,” Missy sighed. “I have no idea how to cater to the tastes of these people.”

  “Well, from what you told me, her assistant was pretty impressed. You’re an amazing cupcake artist, my beautiful baker, just do what you do and she’s sure to love it. Besides, celebrities are just human beings. How different can Ivana Cherie be if she eats cupcakes just like the rest of us?” he shrugged.

  “Hmm…after speaking with her assistant, I’m thinking that she just may eat hers with a platinum knife and fork,” Missy made a face.

  “Which is none of your concern,” he reminded her gently. “If she eats the cupcakes and likes them, then you’ve done your job and done it well, as always,” he smiled tenderly, kissing her temple.

  “The good news is that the production company wants several dozen cupcakes every day too, and they’re not nearly as particular. Ivana has, of course, insisted that the flavors of her daily three cupcakes must be different from those of the production crew. I could very well go crazy by the end of this movie,” she smiled, shaking her head.

  “Nahhh…you’ll be fine, you always are, despite your worrying,” he teased lightly. “What’s the movie about anyway?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, I think Cheryl said something about it being a pretty gory horror flick,” she shuddered.

  “Oh great, that’s just what we need,” Chas sighed, grimacing.

  “What do you mean?” Missy’s brow furrowed.

  “Typically there are some pretty unusual types of folks that hang around during the production of those types of films. People who believe in blood sacrifice, evil spirits, all sorts of superstitions and dark acts. I should’ve known when the chief of police started calling other parishes for support during filming.”

  “That won’t affect you at all, will it?” Missy asked, concerned.

  “No, it’ll only affect me if a crime is committed. The production company has private security, and we’ll have uniforms doing drive-by checks periodically,” he explained. “Well, beautiful, I need to get going, but I’ll see you tonight,” he promised, kissing her soundly.

  She stared after him, counting her blessings that she had the good fortune to be in love with such an amazing human being.

  Chapter 3

  Missy had never had this particular kind of stomach-rattling nervousness quite so early on a Thursday morning that she could recall. The production company for the new Ivana Cherie movie, Whispers of Blood, had arrived on Monday, and the renowned actress herself was due on the set today. The cupcake menu of the day for the diva included the Margarita Madness cupcake that Ivana’s assistant had raved about, a Coconut Dream, and a Honey-Lavender Delight. Each cupcake had been graced with foil in colors that were sure to please, and all of the specifics that had been dictated as to their presentation had been strictly followed.

  Each cupcake had its own special box, also in a complementary color, that had been tied with satin ribbon and featured a card with the name of the cupcake on it. Bracing herself, Missy carefully placed the individual boxes into a larger box for transport and drove out into the bayou, where the movie was currently being filmed. The lack of morning breeze promised a sweltering Louisiana day, and Missy was glad that she’d had the foresight to pack the cupcakes in an insulated box for transport. Ben, the manager of her Dellville store, was bringing several boxes over a bit later for the crew.

  Stepping out of the car, Missy followed the directions that Lola, Ivana’s assistant had given her, and found the front gate. A security guard checked a list for her name, and when he found it, lifted the chain barring access to the site and gave her directions to Ivana’s trailer. She had hoped that she’d be able to simply drop off the cupcakes with an aide or something, in order to avoid the possibility of being perceived as a tongue-tied rube in the face of Hollywood royalty, but apparently that was not going to be the case. Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, Missy knocked on the door of the magnificent motor home to which the gate guard had directed her.

  “What?” a wild-haired, diminutive bleach-blonde with a mud-pack on her face snapped, after yanking open the door.

  Missy was non-plussed. “Umm…hello,” she stammered, having expected Lola to answer the door and not certain what to do next. “I…uh…I’m Melissa Gladstone, and I’m dropping off some cupcakes for Ivana Cherie. Is she here?”

  The blonde woman at the door raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not pleased. “I’m Ivana Cherie, you ninny,” she exclaimed rudely, snatching the box from Missy’s hands. “Seriously, how could you not have known that?” She slammed the door in Missy’s face muttering something about hicks living under rocks. Missy was astonished at the audacity of the nasty little woman. For a moment, she was tempted to knock on the door and give the diva a piece of her mind and a crash course in southern hospitality, but she thought better of it, grimly remembering the exorbitant sum that she was being paid for three cupcakes per day.

  Still stunned by the less than positive interaction, Missy wasn’t paying attention to where she was going, and digging into her purse for her keys, she stumbled hard into a very tall, well-built man. Looking up to apologize, she was utterly horrified. The man had a huge gash in his cheek, what looked like a sucking chest wound on his right side, and was totally covered in blood. Oddly, he smiled at her when she screamed, and suddenly the world went black.

  When she came out of her faint a few minutes later, the horribly injured man was crouched down next to her, looking at her with concern. Startled again by his appearance, she sat up quickly and clamped her hands over her mouth trying not to scream again.

  “Hey,” the man said softly, putting his hands up as though surrendering. “It’s okay, gorgeous, this isn’t real. I’m perfectly fine, it’s just stage blood. We’re filming a movie here, okay?” he explained with a smile. He was really quite attractive under all the gore, and Missy felt a flush rising from the base of her neck all the way up to the tips of her ears.

  “I’m such an idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Mr…?”

  “Carson, Ian Carson. Call me Ian,” he offered his hand slowly, as though he didn’t want to scare her.

  “Ian, I’m so sorry that I reacted the way I did – it just really startled me,” she apologized, noting the “blood” that was all over her clothes because Ian had carried her to a spot in the shade.

  “No worries,” he grinned. “Just lets me know that our special effects guys are doing a great job.”

  Missy nodded vehemently. “It’s very convincing,” she said, trying not to make a face.

  “Thanks,” he chuckled. “Hey, can I get you a water bottle or something?” he offered, his manner a welcome respite after being mistreated by Ivana Cherie.

  “No, thanks, I need to get going. Thanks for helping me out though, I really appreciate it,” she smiled shyly.

  “Anytime. Hey, I didn’t catch your name, pretty lady,” he said as she turned to go.

  “Melissa…call me Missy,” she said, smiling at the non-mortally-wounded man.

  “Missy, nice. Hopefully we’ll meet again,” he raised a hand in farewell and walked off toward one of the other luxury motor homes.

  **

  “So, what was she like?” Cheryl badgered Missy for information when she got back to the shop. Missy was quiet for a moment, having been raised with the old ad
age, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” and struggled to come up with something even remotely positive to say about Ivana Cherie.

  “Well…she was just a tiny little thing. I don’t know how she manages to eat three cupcakes a day and stay that size,” Missy offered, at a loss.

  “I know, right?” Cheryl gushed, excited that her boss had met an actual celebrity. “Did anything fun or interesting happen? Did you get to watch the filming? What was it like?” she peppered Missy with questions.

  Her boss laughed, raising her hands as a defense against the onslaught of curiosity. “No, I really wasn’t there for very long. Long enough to make a fool of myself though,” she shook her head, remembering her encounter with Ian. She told Cheryl about it and watched as the manager’s jaw dropped open in disbelief.

  “What?” Missy asked. “It was embarrassing, but it wasn’t that bad,” she grinned.

  “You. Met. Ian. Carson???” she practically screamed.

  “Yes, he was very sweet. Is he a local boy?” she asked innocently.

  Cheryl snorted. “Are you kidding? He’s like, one of the hottest movie stars of all time!” she exclaimed, practically swooning with envy.

  “Really? Wow, that’s impressive,” Missy remarked, surprised. “I wouldn’t have expected him to be so nice. He even offered to get me a bottle of water.”

  “Please tell me you took that water,” Cheryl said. “Tell me that he autographed it for you and you’re going to keep it forever,” she said melodramatically, cracking her boss up.

  “Goodness, girl, you’d think he was a superhero or something,” Missy shook her head. “Celebrities are just people,” she said, echoing Chas’s sentiment.

  “But he is a superhero, didn’t you see the last Adventureman movie?” she asked starry-eyed.

  Missy laughed again at her manager’s antics. “Careful darlin,’ I’d hate to have to tell that over-protective husband of yours that you’re all in a tizzy about a movie star,” she warned playfully.