Death of a Cupcake Queen Read Free Page B

were vicious. They didn’t care that I had a picture of Brad Pitt barechested wearing a cowboy hat from Thelma and Louise taped to my locker! They just didn’t like the way I dressed or acted so they made me a target! Don’t get me wrong! I love lesbians. Some nights I hear my husband farting and I see my kids starting a mash potato fight and I think to myself, why on earth didn’t God make me a lesbian? I’d be so much happier!”
    â€œI think we’re getting a little off track,” Hayley said, scraping the bottom of her bowl for any excess clumps of cheese before setting her fork down. “I’m certainly not making excuses for them. They were horrible to me too. But that was twenty years ago. I’ve at least gotten to know Sabrina better through my dealings with her as county coroner and she’s mellowed. I’m sure Nykki and Ivy have too. People change.”
    â€œI haven’t changed,” Mona said huffily.
    â€œYou can say that again,” Liddy whispered under her breath.
    â€œLiddy, you’re not helping!” Hayley barked.
    â€œI’m just saying, I’m exactly the same as I was in high school so I don’t expect those high and mighty harpies to have changed either!”
    â€œHayley, she’s not going. Accept it,” Liddy said.
    â€œNow you’ve got me all worked up. I need another blueberry ale before I go back out on my boat to haul traps!” Mona grumbled while waving a finger at the skittish waitresses, who cowered at the sound of her voice.

Chapter 4
    Hayley scurried back to the office after hugging Liddy and Mona goodbye in the parking lot behind the Side Street Cafe. She tip-toed through the door to the Island Times front office and noiselessly slipped behind her desk hoping nobody would notice she had taken an extra fifteen minutes for lunch. Mostly due to Mona’s ranting about the upcoming reunion.
    As she set her bag on the floor next to her chair, she heard someone clear his throat and it startled her. She looked up to see a gangly, awkward kid with a pronounced nose and big brown puppy dog eyes, around seventeen years old, slumped in a chair across from her and holding a large brown paper bag.
    â€œHi, Mrs. Powell,” the boy said, his voice cracking.
    â€œI’m sorry, and you are . . . ?” Hayley said, sizing the kid up, trying to place him, but having no luck.
    â€œOliver Whitfield,” he said, offering a stiff smile. “I’m in your daughter Gemma’s class.”
    â€œWhy aren’t you in school, Oliver?”
    â€œOh, the principal lets me off at one on Tuesdays and Thursdays to help out at my parents’ new sandwich shop. It’s like a work-study program. I’m learning the business and even help out with the books. But my Dad’s sick today so I’m handling deliveries.”
    Hayley remembered seeing an ad for a new sandwich shop in town called Well Bread. She had heard a new family called the Whitfields had recently moved to Bar Harbor from Ohio, but she hadn’t met them yet.
    â€œWell, it’s nice to meet you, Oliver. Did somebody here at the office order some sandwiches?”
    Oliver nodded.
    â€œDoes anybody back there know you’re here?”
    Oliver shook his head.
    â€œHow long have you been sitting here?”
    â€œAbout fifteen minutes. Nobody was here and I didn’t want to bother anybody so I thought I’d just wait.”
    â€œI see. Well, there’s no point in mentioning that to anyone, especially my boss, so let’s pretend you just walked through the door. It’s not like the sandwiches had time to get soggy, right?”
    Oliver nodded again.
    â€œWho placed the order? I’ll have them come out and pay you.”
    â€œMr. Linney.”
    Bruce Linney.
    The Island Times crime reporter.
    And a big pain in the you know what.
    â€œMrs. Powell, I’m glad I ran into you because I wanted to