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Evening Bags and Executions(25)

By:Dorothy Howell






As soon as Eleanor and Rigby cleared the doorway, I dashed back to my office, grabbed my things, and left. Since I had a perfectly good excuse to dig for suspects and clues in Lacy Hobbs’s murder—and could combo that with keeping my job—I headed for Lacy Cakes.

The CLOSED sign still hung on the door when I swung into the parking lot. A few more flowers had been added to the memorial under the window.

I got out and peered into the bakery. Nothing had changed since last night. The display cakes were gone, and the furniture had been pushed together at each end of the room.

I knocked on the door, just in case someone was in the workroom, and waited a few minutes, but nobody came through the curtained doorway. I stood there for a couple of minutes trying to decide what to do, then the vision of Detective Madison barging into L.A. Affairs surrounded by patrol officers and arresting me flashed in my head.

I got moving.

I walked the length of the strip mall and circled around back to the service alley. It was wide enough to accommodate parking spaces, presumably for the employees. A Dumpster was positioned at the far end, and boxes and crates were stacked outside the rear entrances to some of the businesses. A delivery van idled near the liquor store.

I made my way down the alley and was surprised to see that the door to Lacy Cakes was propped open. I looked inside and spotted a woman at one of the worktables using a long serrated knife to sculpt a huge cake.

I think it was supposed to be a battleship.

“Hello?” I called.

She turned around, smiled, and waved the big knife my way.

“Hey, girl, come on in,” she said.

She had on white pants, white shirt, and a Lacy Cakes apron. A bright red scarf was tied around her dark hair that matched her equally bright red lipstick. A tattoo peeked out of her sleeve and her collar. She looked to be about my age.

“Hi,” I said, and walked over. “I’m Haley Randolph from L.A. Affairs.”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “I’m Paige Davis, Lacy’s assistant—or I used to be her assistant.”

I glanced at the floor beneath the worktable across the room where I’d found Lacy’s body, then looked away.

“Sorry about Lacy,” I said. “Must be hard for you to work here now.”

“No, not really,” Paige said. She eyeballed the cake and took another swipe at it with the knife.

Now it kind of looked like a Hummer.

“Things happen, you know,” Paige said. “It’s too bad but, well, what are you going to do?”

“Aren’t you afraid to be here?” I asked. “Especially by yourself?”

She glanced around the empty room and said, “The others will be here later. We’re all trying to pitch in. Besides, it’s not like I have a choice.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

Paige shrugged. “I just got hired a couple of weeks ago. I worked at Fairy Land Bake Shoppe, and no way can I go back there. My boss went totally berserk when he found out Lacy had hired me. He’d never take me back.”

I’d left a couple of jobs that I couldn’t go back to, but I don’t think I ever had a boss who went berserk when I left.

“He was mad at you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Paige said. “But mostly he was mad at Lacy for offering me more money. Said she stole me from him. It was weird.”

“I saw the CLOSED sign on the front door,” I said. “But you’re open for business?”

“Not really,” Paige said. “I’m trying to take care of some of the orders. A few customers heard about what happened to Lacy and called, so I got their orders from them. Their cakes are kind of small, so I can do them quick. Other than that, I don’t have a clue.”

I glanced at the office area on the other side of the workroom and saw that the fax machine and computer were missing.

“The police took everything?” I asked.

“Yeah, everything—even the message pads,” Paige said. “I guess some chick complained about her cake, so the cops think she murdered Lacy.”

That would be me.

Crap.

It seemed like a good time to change the subject.

“I need a cake for a party I’m planning. It was ordered a few weeks ago,” I said. “It’s for a Beatles-themed party.”

“Cool idea,” she said. “Wish I could go. I love the Beatles.”

“The event will be pretty awesome,” I told her. “Tribute bands, performers, a memorabilia auction.”

“Super cool! Wish I could get my hands on some of that collectible stuff. I could live for months on what it’s worth,” Paige said. “I’d love to do the cake for you, but honestly, I don’t know what’s up with the business. Lacy’s brother and cousin are fighting over everything.”