I selected a salty pretzel to eat with my ice cream, something else I had continued to do since I left the Amish. “I hope Eleanor and Matilda won’t mind me living with them,” I said to Rebecca.

  She waved one hand in dismissal. “No, they’re thrilled about it. When I first asked them if you could, they were both delighted, and they can’t wait to meet you. They tend to bicker so it will be good for them to have someone else around.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Why was I so worried about meeting these ladies? I supposed I had become a little set in my ways. On the other hand, I had been dreadfully lonely, almost thirty years of living with someone and then suddenly all alone. It would be good to have the company of others, no matter how quirky they were. Still, I wondered if there was something Rebecca wasn’t telling me.

  Chapter 3

  I was in the kitchen making frosting for a batch of red velvet cupcakes when I heard a man’s voice. The voice was familiar, and I soon realized it was that of Colin Greaves. I wiped my hands on my apron and in one move took it off and flung it on a nearby stool before hurrying into the store.

  Rebecca’s face was white and drawn. Greaves was smiling that thin-lipped smile he always offered. Waves of citrus, vanilla, and vetiver emanated from him. He always wore a slathering of the same male cologne, and it was overpowering. While I wasn’t allergic to perfumes or colognes, too much of a strong scent always gave me a sinus headache.

  “Mrs. Delight,” he said with a slight nod before turning his attention back to Rebecca. “I’m prepared to increase my offer, but it’s for a limited time only. A limited time,” he repeated, as his eye twitched and he rubbed his mouth.

  Rebecca and I exchanged glances. “It doesn’t matter how much you offer, as I’ll never sell to you,” she said ever so politely. I admired her patience.

  Greaves folded his arms over his chest. “And what does your husband have to say about it? I am aware the property is owned by both of you.”

  I chose that moment to interrupt. “Ephraim certainly doesn’t want to sell. I wouldn’t risk annoying him by going to speak with him.”

  Greaves sneered at me. “Well, I might take that straight from the horse’s mouth. I’ll pop over this afternoon to have a chat.” He took a tissue from his pocket and wiped his brow.

  I knew Ephraim would refuse to sell. Greaves was still speaking. “Mrs. Yoder, I know you don’t want to give up your cupcake store, but you won’t have to as such. With the amount of money I’m offering you, you could buy another store and apartment in a nicer and far safer place of town. It’s a good business decision for you.”

  Rebecca put her hands on hips by way of response.

  “Is there anything that would encourage you to sell?” Greaves asked her. He frowned and rubbed his mouth hard, a gesture I thought peculiar.

  When Rebecca shook her head, he continued, “I should think you would like to move to a safer part of town. This area is older and it’s no longer safe. Not safe at all.” His lip curled as he spoke.

  I took a few steps forward. “Are you threatening my sister?”

  Greaves smirked at me. “Of course not. Whatever would give you such an idea?”

  His tone chilled me to the bone. His words might have denied his threat, but his tone and attitude made it clear his words were, in fact, a warning.

  “I think you should leave,” I said in the firmest tone I could muster.

  “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready,” he said with a snarl. “I’m glad these samples are catching on around town.” He reached for the nearest cupcake and popped it into his mouth. Rebecca always had a tray of tiny cupcakes on the countertop for customers to sample.

  I stood there, somewhat at a loss. I couldn’t forcibly make the man leave, so I didn’t know what to do. I figured we would just have to stand there awkwardly until he left. I fervently hoped customers would come in.

  I wasn’t wondering what to do for long. To my shock, Greaves made a strange, strangled sound and fell to the ground.

  I hovered over him and loosened his tie, absently noting it was pink paisley silk, before signaling to my sister. “Rebecca, quick! Call 911.”

  “My heart,” he muttered. All the color drained from his face and he broke into a heavy sweat.

  “Do you have medication?” I asked urgently, and at once rifled through his coat pockets hoping to find a bottle of medication.

  What happened next was a blur. Later I remembered the paramedics arriving, and Rebecca flipping the sign on the door to Closed.

  One paramedic ushered us out of the room and into the kitchen, where we stood, clutching each other.

  I did my best to listen in. I overheard the paramedics saying Greaves had a feeble, rapid pulse. I turned to my sister. “Did they say his blood pressure wasn’t recordable? That’s not possible, is it?”

  “It’s not good to eavesdrop,” Rebecca scolded me.

  I sighed and put my ear back to the door. “Ventricular tachycardia. I wonder what that is? They asked if he was taking anti-arrhythmic medications, but I couldn’t hear his response.”

  “Do you think he had a heart attack?” Rebecca asked me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t have a clue to be honest, but it does seem to be something to do with his heart.”

  “The poor man,” Rebecca said. “I will pray for him.”

  I nodded but then stepped away from the door when I heard footsteps approaching.

  “We’re taking him to the hospital now,” one of the paramedics said. “It’s probably best if you don’t go back into the store until the police come.”

  “The police?” I echoed. It was all so surreal. “Why would the police come when someone’s had a heart attack?”

  The paramedic hesitated and then said, “It doesn’t appear to be a heart attack, and since we don’t know exactly what it is, we called the police.” With a nod at me, the paramedic left the room.

  “I wonder what he meant?” Rebecca asked me.

  Unlike my Amish and thus television-less sister, I watched a lot of crime shows on TV. I was fairly certain the paramedics thought Greaves had succumbed to foul play, and as he had not been shot or stabbed, I could only assume he had been poisoned.

  I remembered he had eaten one of the sample cupcakes, but if he had been poisoned by that cupcake, then any one of our customers could have eaten it. I shuddered.

  “What’s wrong, Jane?” Rebecca asked me.

  “I’m just a bit uneasy about it all,” I said, not wanting to tell her that I suspected Greaves had been poisoned.

  As I was considering precisely what I should tell Rebecca, a man’s voice called out from inside the store.

  Rebecca and I hurried out to find two uniformed officers. Both were men. The taller one introduced himself as Alex Albright and his partner as William Worth. Rebecca and I duly introduced ourselves and Officer Worth wrote our names in a notepad.

  “So, what happened here this morning?” the taller officer asked.

  “Mr. Greaves came in and offered me more money to sell my store to him and then he fell to the ground. I called 911.”

  I nodded while Rebecca was speaking.

  “And did he eat anything or drink anything while he was in here?” Officer Albright asked.

  I clutched my stomach. That meant they did suspect poison.

  “He ate a cupcake from our sample tray,” Rebecca said, indicating the tray.

  “It was a chocolate one,” I supplied.

  “Bag these, Worth,” the taller one said.

  It was then I noticed Officer Worth was wearing gloves. I hadn’t noticed if he was wearing them before. He carefully popped all the little cupcakes into a baggy.

  “Did anyone else eat any of those cupcakes today?” Albright asked Rebecca.

  “I think I noticed about five or so samples missing,” Rebecca said.

  “Did you actually see a customer eat any of the sample cupcakes this morning?” he asked her.

  Rebecca nodded. “Yes, more than one customer.”

  “Could I have their names?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t know. Only one of them was a regular customer. Mrs. Bates.”

  “I don’t suppose you have her address or any contact details?”

  “As a matter of fact I do. She’s a regular customer and every year she orders a birthday cake for her husband. Shall I fetch her contact details now?”

  He nodded in the affirmative. Rebecca walked into the kitchen and I closed the gap to the officer. “I didn’t want to say this in front of my sister, but do you think Mr. Greaves was poisoned?” I asked him.

  “Sister?” he said with surprise. “But she’s Amish and you’re not.”

  “I left the Amish after my rumspringa at the age of sixteen,” I said. “We’re twin sisters actually. Identical twins.”

  His jaw fell open. “You look nothing alike!”

  I didn’t point out that we would indeed look alike if I wore Amish clothes or if Rebecca let her hair down from under her prayer kapp. Lucky he’s not a detective, I thought unkindly.

  The officer soon gathered his wits. “Why would you think he was poisoned?” He regarded me with narrowed eyes.

  “Because police don’t get called to heart attacks,” I said. “And you’re taking away the sample cupcakes. You know they were out there for anyone to eat.”

  As the officer just made a grunting sound, my imagination ran away with me. Would my sister become a suspect in an attempted murder? After all, Greaves had threatened her. And while the cupcakes were out on the countertop for anyone to eat, the police could conclude my sister slipped a poisoned one on there for Greaves when he came into the store.

  “So where do you live now?” the officer asked me.

  I pointed to the ceiling. “I live in the apartment above the store,” I told him. I took a deep breath and then added, “When my husband left me, my sister rented me the apartment above the store.”

  “I see, well we’ll take both your statements when your sister returns with those contact details.”

  Just then Rebecca hurried back into the store and handed the officer a slip of paper. His partner had been on his cell phone for the last few minutes and I was alarmed to see him beckon to the other officer, a worried look on his face.

  “Excuse me.” Albright walked over to confer with Officer Worth.

  I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look good. I suspected Mr. Greaves had passed away, and I also suspected that my sister might be the main suspect.

  Chapter 4

  The officers left after telling us that detectives would be along presently. I still hadn’t told my sister that I thought Mr. Greaves had probably passed on. I couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that one of our cupcakes had been poisoned, and my head was reeling with the implications. I turned to Rebecca. “What do we do now?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose we just wait for the detectives. We could do more baking, but then again I don’t know how long it will be before they let me reopen the store.”

  I thought back to all the crime shows I had seen on TV. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to open again tomorrow morning.” I was going to say more, but was startled by a loud bang on the shop door. I thought it must have been the detective, but as I turned around I saw two women peeping through the glass. One was tall and stick thin, the other, shorter and on the plump side. The tall one was clutching something under her arm.

  “Eleanor and Matilda!” Rebecca exclaimed with joy. She hurried over to the door and opened it.

  The two ladies all but fell inside. Waves of rose-scented perfume preceded them. Matilda, the shorter one, embraced Rebecca in a tight hug and Rebecca patted her awkwardly on her back.

  I bit back a smile. After all, the Amish in my former community were not given to public displays of affection. Eleanor marched over to me and thrust something into my arms. It was only when it scratched me and jumped away I realized it was a cat.

  Eleanor let out a shriek. “You scared him! The poor thing.”

  I clutched my head. Maybe I was having a nightmare after all. First of all, Mr. Greaves had threatened my sister and then had most likely passed away, and now my two roommates had arrived and one had thrust a cat at me.

  Rebecca too looked flustered. “Eleanor and Matilda, this is my sister, Jane. Jane Delight.”

  Matilda chuckled. “Is that really your surname, Delight? Anyway, forgive my rudeness. I’m delighted to meet you.” She burst into laughter. “I’m sorry, no pun intended,” she added when she finally stopped laughing.

  Eleanor was on her hands and knees, looking behind the shop counter. “Here kitty, kitty,” she was saying. Suddenly she lunged forward. She disappeared from sight with a grunt and then stood up, clutching a terrified cat to her. “Hello, Jane. It’s lovely to meet you. Sorry I yelled at you, but I was worried about Mr. Crumbles.” She held up the cat as if I didn’t know who Mr. Crumbles was.

  Mr. Crumbles was gray with rough fur, patches of which were missing. His eyes were huge and orange. I was glad I could not see his teeth but imagined they were long, yellow, and needle-sharp.

  “Matilda and Eleanor, we can’t have a cat in the store. What about health regulations!” Rebecca said. “Let’s go upstairs to your apartment.”

  “What if the detectives come while we’re away?” I asked her.

  “Detectives?” Eleanor and Matilda said in unison.

  Rebecca waved to the back of the shop where the stairs to the apartment were. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll explain everything.” To me, she said, “They can ring the bell. I’m more worried about the health inspector finding a cat in my shop.”

  With that, we all hurried upstairs. To my surprise, Matilda and Eleanor took the steps two at a time. I didn’t know what to tell them or where I should start. Should I say I hoped they didn’t mind me living with them, or should I tell them what had happened to Mr. Greaves? Did they even know who Colin Greaves was in the first place?

  Thankfully, Rebecca came straight to the point. “Do you remember a man by the name of Colin Greaves?”

  Both sisters said that they didn’t. “He owns the parking lot opposite my store.” She pointed in the direction of the front window. “He’s been buying up all the stores in this street. He wants to demolish them because he wants to build a mall here. He’s bought them all except my store and the building owned by the health food and supplements shop. His demands have become more and more urgent.”

  “Did he threaten you?” Matilda asked.

  “He made a veiled threat today,” I said.

  Matilda gasped. “Did you call the police?”

  Rebecca hesitated, so I thought I should continue the explanation. “Right after he threatened Rebecca, he ate one of the sample cupcakes. You know, the ones Rebecca always has on the countertop? Anyway, he fell down and dropped dead.”

  Rebecca’s hand flew to her throat. “Dead? Did you say dead?”

  I instantly regretted being so forthright. “Well um, not exactly. I’m not too sure,” I sputtered, “but I think he might have passed on after the paramedics took him away.”

  Rebecca had turned as white as a sheet. “What makes you think that?”

  I felt bad for upsetting her. “It’s the way the officers were whispering to each other after Officer Worth took the call. I mean, Mr. Greaves might be all right, but I’d be surprised if he hadn’t been murdered.”

  Matilda tapped her chin. “And if the police knew he threatened you, then you would likely be a suspect in his murder, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca sat with a thump on the nearest overstuffed chair. “Surely not?”

  Eleanor had remained silent, and now spoke. “We found a stray cat on the way home. Obviously he was not owned by anyone. I named him Mr. Crumbles. It suits him, don’t you think?” She held him out for us to inspect, but he wriggled and tried to claw her. In fact, he managed to do so and one long strip of blood appeared on her arm. “The poor little thing. He’s scared,” Eleanor said, clutching the struggling cat to her chest.

  Mr. Crumbles managed to free one paw and swiped at me, so I took a step backward.

  Matilda rolled her eyes. “There are more pressing matters than a stray cat, Eleanor,” she said in a scolding tone. “You don’t want our landlady to go to prison for life, now do you?”

  Rebecca wrung her hands and twisted them in her apron.

  “I’m sure it won’t come to that,” I said in soothing tones.

  Matilda apparently came to her senses. “No, of course not. I’m very good at solving crimes. I’ve seen every episode of Miss Marple in the newer television series. Both actresses, mind you. And I’ve seen the older series too, but I don’t like it as much. I’ve read every book Agatha Christie ever wrote. I’m sure I will be quite good at solving this murder.” She smiled widely as she said it.

  Eleanor interrupted once more. “Jane, you certainly cleaned up the apartment nicely. We’d left it in rather a mess, I’m afraid.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me staying with you?” I asked her.

  Eleanor extracted one hand from the cat and waved it at me in dismissal. “Of course not, dear. There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms. There is more than enough room for the four of us.”

  It took me a moment to realize the cat made up the fourth.

  “And don’t worry about the little cat. We took him to the vet on the way here. He’ll settle down when he realizes no one will hurt him. Matilda, do you have that cat food in your purse?”

  Matilda reached into her purse, retrieved a small can of cat food, and threw it hard at Eleanor. It whizzed past my nose and I ducked.