The Candy Cane Cupcake Killer Read Online Free Page A

but it shook anyway.
    Sam stepped over to them, put a hand on the young man’s shoulder, and said, “It’ll be all right, kids.”
    That was a lie, of course. Barney McCrory was dead. But Phyllis knew Sam was just trying to comfort them the best way he could.
    The young woman turned to Sam and exclaimed, “Coach Fletcher!” And then she pulled him into a hug as she broke down. Awkwardly, he patted her on the back as she said between sobs, “You . . . you don’t understand. When I saw my father earlier today, we . . . we had a big fight. Those angry words can’t be the last thing I ever say to him. They just can’t!”
    That told Phyllis she’d been right when she thought she saw an unhappy look cross McCrory’s face earlier when Sam had brought up the man’s daughter and son-in-law. McCrory had been upset about the argument, too, it seemed. Such an assumption was a bit of a leap, but Phyllis’s instincts told her it was correct.
    One of the EMTs, Ted, hopped down from the carriage and approached Whitmire. He and the chief talked quietly for more than a minute. An angry expression appeared on Whitmire’s face as they spoke. Phyllis couldn’t make out anything the EMT said, but she heard Whitmire’s response as he demanded, “Are you sure?”
    With a grim look on his face, Ted nodded. He said something else, then turned back to the carriage to assist his partner as he started lowering Barney McCrory’s body from the seat.
    Knowing that he probably wouldn’t answer her, Phyllis asked Whitmire, “What was that about, Chief? Mr. McCrory died of a heart attack, didn’t he? I know you’ll need an autopsy to be sure—”
    â€œWe’ll need an autopsy, all right,” Whitmire interrupted heavily. “It appears that the deceased was shot. This is murder.”
    There was still a lot of commotion going on up and down the street, but next to the carriage, a stunned silence fell for a moment until Carolyn said, “Well, at least he wasn’t poisoned. Now no one can blame those cupcakes of yours, Phyllis!”

Chapter 3

    A fter everything that had happened, the parade couldn’t go on, of course. And the police couldn’t keep the bystanders—and possible suspects—from leaving, either. There were too many people and not enough cops for that. Phyllis saw the frustration on Whitmire’s face, but there was nothing the chief could do.
    Nothing he could do about that part of the investigation, anyway. He turned to her and Sam and said, “The two of you talked to McCrory just before the parade started, right?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Phyllis said.
    â€œThat’s when this cupcake business came up.”
    â€œYes. But now that you know—”
    â€œNo offense, but I don’t know anything yet except that McCrory was shot. And I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” Whitmire sighed and shook his head glumly. He muttered, “I guess I should have expected it by now.” He became morebusinesslike as he went on. “Were the two of you the last ones to speak to the victim?”
    â€œMaybe,” Sam said. “I don’t remember seein’ anybody else say anything to him before the parade started.” He nodded toward the carriage, where Clay Loomis was sitting alone now. All the cheerleaders had gotten out of the vehicle. “I reckon one of the folks back there could have said something to Barney, but I don’t recall seein’ him turned around, talkin’ to them.”
    â€œWell, I’ll ask Mr. Loomis about that later,” Whitmire said.
    Phyllis said, “There was a little bit of time right after the parade started when Sam and I were walking in this direction. I wasn’t watching the carriage then.”
    â€œHow long was that?”
    â€œI don’t know. Twenty seconds, maybe.”
    Whitmire asked Sam,