Cake and Corruption (A Sweetwater Springs Southern Mystery Book 6)

  Cake and Corruption

  A Sweetwater Springs Southern Mystery

  S.C. Merritt

  Published by Sarah Merritt, 2021.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Cake and Corruption (A Sweetwater Springs Southern Mystery)

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY ONE

  TWENTY TWO

  TWENTY THREE

  TWENTY FOUR

  TWENTY FIVE

  TWENTY SIX

  TWENTY SEVEN

  TWENTY EIGHT

  SIDEBURNS AND SUSPICIONS | ONE

  RECIPES | Macy’s Lemon Chicken Orzo Soup

  Rummy Club Cheese Ball

  Glory’s Chocolate Gravy

  Farmhouse Brunch Potatoes

  About the Author

  Also Available by S.C. Merritt

  First Edition, 2021

  Copyright © S.C. Merritt

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information email scmerrittwrites@gmail.com.

  Please do not encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Thank you for respecting my work.

  Cover by Kim’s Covers

  Editing by Book Echoes

  ONE

  I held my side and gasped for breath. My sister-in-law, Kelly, and I finally had to take to the nearest seat in a failing effort to graciously recover from the sight before us. Hunt and Jake had just walked out of the costume closet and into the backstage room where we were all awaiting our cues to enter the church sanctuary. It was Easter Sunday morning, and the choir was about to present a musical drama depicting the events leading up to the resurrection of Christ. In a small church in a small town, big, strong men willing to put on Roman armor were hard to come by. Especially when it involved wearing a skirt. Last week, in a state of last-minute panic, Brother Jason had instructed me to do whatever it took to fill those roles and believe me it took a lot. As the part-time church secretary, I spent days scouring the church membership list. With no one willing and able and getting nothing but refusals, I had to swallow my pride and grovel to the last two able-bodied but not-so-willing men I knew.

  “Glory Harper.” Hunt glowered at me. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d strangle you with my sash.”

  I could see the red tinge running up the back of his neck and all the way to the tips of his ears. I struggled so hard to keep from grinning, my face hurt.

  “It’s freezing in here! Where’s that breeze coming from?” Hunt tugged at the costume trying to cover more of his bare legs.

  “You look great! So handsome and manly,” I cooed, batting my eyelashes and stifling a giggle.

  Kelly walked over to Jake, raised up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his rosy cheek. “So do you, baby.”

  “You two are going to owe us big time for this one.” Jake raised his arm, clanking his armguard against the sword hanging from his waist, and pointed at us.

  “I think it’s a totally logical part for both of you to play since you have plenty of experience in law enforcement,” Kelly said.

  “At least my uniform has pants!” Jake retorted.

  “Those skirt things are a tad shorter than I expected, but at least they fit. I just hope you’re both wearing running shorts underneath.” Kelly knelt to lace up Jake’s sandals.

  Hunt Walker was chief detective on the Sweetwater Springs police force. He and I had been dating for about a year. My brother, Jake Miller, was his right-hand man. Jake was right. Kelly and I were going to be paying for this for a long time to come.

  Hunt took the cat-of-nine-tails from his belt and held it out toward me. “Tell me one more time what I’m supposed to do with this thing.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to go through the dress rehearsal with us, but you’ll do great. Donna will be back here to make sure you enter at the right time. Y’all will be on either side of Dustin and walk him onto the stage.” I scanned the room for the teenager who would be playing the part of Jesus. A member of the high school drama club, Dustin had been doing a great job in rehearsals.

  “Hey, Donna! Where’s Dustin? Isn’t he here yet?” I called across the room to where the stage manager was helping Mary, the mother of Jesus, put the last touches on her robe.

  She took the safety pin from between her clenched teeth and pinned Mary’s sash in place. “He called to say he overslept, but he’s on his way.”

  I turned back to Hunt. “So y’all will bring Dustin out, throw him down to the ground, and begin beating him with the fake whip. It’s a stage prop made of strips of Naugahyde. It barely weighs more than a few strips of fabric, so you’ll have to make a big dramatic showing of it. You are supposed to hit him ten times. Right before you enter, Donna will dip the strips with a solution that is supposed to turn red when it hits Dustin’s bare skin.”

  “Yeah, this thing is pretty flimsy.” He waved the whip in the air and the pieces flopped from side to side.

  The door flew open and Dustin hurried in out of breath. “I’m really sorry I’m late!” He pulled the baseball cap off his head exposing bright purple hair. “My girlfriend colored my hair for me. Cool, huh?” He grinned from ear to ear.

  Donna, however, wasn’t grinning. There was a collective gasp from everyone in the room. “Dustin! What on earth made you decide to do that? And on Easter!”

  “Exactly! We were coloring eggs yesterday with my little brother and she thought it would be fun to do that to our hair! Wait till you see hers. It’s pink!”

  Donna looked at me and shrugged, then turned back to Dustin. “Thank goodness you’re wearing a wig! Of course, I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think Jesus ever dyed his hair purple. Now, hurry up and get into your robe so I can get your beard on you and make sure that hair is hidden.” She nudged him toward the costume closet.

  I heard the first notes of the opening overture begin in the sanctuary. I gave Hunt a quick kiss on the cheek, and Kelly and I grabbed our music folders and took our places in the processional. I looked back over my shoulder and flashed Hunt one last, big smile and a thumbs up. When he rolled his eyes and shot me a grin—the one with the dimple that always made me weak in the knees—I knew all was forgiven.

  The choir filed into the choir loft, lifted our music folders, and began the opening song. There were several dramatic scenes intermingled with songs portraying the Last Supper and other significant events of the week leading up to the crucifixion. As expected, Dustin did a good job with his lines in all the scenes. The congregation seemed to be enjoying the presentation. Finally, the cue came for Hunt and Jake to bring Dustin out. I cut my eyes over at Kelly as we watched our men, bare legs and all, escort Dustin to center stage for the scourging scene. Hunt threw him down on the ground and raised the whip above his head.
He brought it down with a dramatic flair, making it seem he was hitting much harder than he was. The crowd gasped as the whip came down over and over onto Dustin’s bare back. With each swing, you could see the fake blood becoming more visible. After about the third or fourth lashing, one of the strips came flying off the whip. Kelly and I exchanged wide-eyed looks. I wondered if too much solution had weakened the strips.

  Hunt never slowed up. He just kept whipping away. With each swing, another strip went sailing. Jake glanced over at me and Kelly, a panicked look in his eyes. To his credit, he continued to stand guard next to Dustin and kept his composure.

  With the cat-of-nine-tails down to two, measly little strips waving carelessly in the air, Hunt made the ninth swing. When he raised the whip for the tenth and final lashing, the strips tangled in Dustin’s wig and jerked it clean off. With Hunt’s last dramatic motion, the wig flew into the air and Dustin’s head took center stage. The spotlight shown down on the purple cranium as Hunt stopped in mid swing, mortified in the silence. For a split second, time stood still, and I heard a child on the front row yell, “Mommy, look! They just beat the hair off of Jesus!”

  Brother Jason motioned to the media booth to start the next song. Hunt and Jake pulled Dustin up off the floor. Hunt, as nonchalantly as possible, reached his foot over and kicked the wig along with them as they went.

  By the time Dustin returned for the next scene, his wig was securely back in place—glued to his head if Donna had her way. Hunt and Jake returned and pretended to hammer the nails as Dustin balanced precariously on top of the fake cross. The conclusion was the powerful resurrection scene. Dustin gave an emotional and impressive performance. The presentation closed with one last choir anthem then the choir filed out of the loft.

  “Oh, Glory. I’m scared to face the guys,” Kelly whispered. “They’re never going to speak to us again.” She frowned at me as we walked down the hall to the costume area.

  “Jake has to speak to you. You’re married to him. Hunt, on the other hand—may never forgive me.” My heart raced as I reached to open the door.

  “Can you believe that just happened?” Hunt was doubled over laughing.

  “Boss, I knew you were a quick thinker, but that was a stroke of genius kicking the wig off the stage with us!” Jake fist bumped Hunt.

  Dustin stood nearby, his head looking like a giant grape. “Yeah! If y’all hadn’t kept your cool and brought it with you, I’d have been up a creek in the rest of the scenes. Good job, Mr. Walker.” He smiled and gave Hunt and Jake both high fives.

  My jaw dropped and I looked at Kelly. The guys turned to see us standing in the doorway and immediately feigned angry expressions. They both broke into huge grins and walked over.

  Hunt gave me a hug. “Thanks for railroading me into this. It was fun.”

  “You’re not mad at us?” I asked them both.

  “Nah.” Jake put his arm around Kelly. “We just like to give you two a hard time.”

  “Excuse us while we go put some pants on. This bare-legged thing is for the birds. I don’t know how you girls do it.” They strutted back to the costume closet to change.

  “Whew! We got away with that one!”

  TWO

  Sunday lunch at Momma’s was a family thing, and you were always expected to be there, no matter what, but it was extra special on Easter. The table was elegantly set with Momma’s best china. The plates had pink roses in the center and a silver rim around the edges and were reserved for holidays only. The footed tea and water glasses were Fostoria. We always ate a little later in the afternoon on holidays so we could all pitch in and contribute our specialties. It was a given that Kelly would make her homemade yeast rolls, and Macy made a delicious sweet potato soufflé. This year, Tony joined in and brought his family’s favorite, Italian Wedding Soup, as well as a dessert called Florentine Easter Cake, flavored with orange zest and dusted with powdered sugar. My contribution wasn’t quite as spectacular. I made a green bean casserole and helped Momma with the glaze for the Easter ham. We sent Hunt and Jake to the store for a few bags of ice and by the time they returned, the meal was almost ready.

  We dished the food onto the matching platters and placed everything on the table. One last check that all was ready, and Momma joined us around the table. We held hands and Jake said a prayer of thanks for the holiday and what it meant to our family as well as grateful thanks for the delicious meal. Everyone filled their plates and the wonderful sound of laughter, glasses clinking, and lively conversation made my heart happy. I looked from face to face around the table at the people I loved so much. We truly were blessed.

  “Well, that was certainly an Easter presentation that will be remembered for many years to come,” Momma said, finally broaching the elephant in the room.

  Hunt roared with laughter. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I just kept wondering with every swing if I would have any strips left for the tenth one. Then when that wig flew off—”

  “It was pretty impressive the way you discreetly stuck your sandal over there and got it off the stage,” Jake said.

  “I thought Kelly and I were gonna lose it when the little Mason boy yelled from the front row.” I laughed. “I’m so proud of both of you. You should both be up for Academy Awards for your performances.”

  Jake grabbed the silver serving spoon out of the beans and held it up to his mouth like a microphone. “I’d like to thank the Academy...”

  Momma threw her napkin at him and we all had a good laugh.

  After the ladies got the kitchen cleared, we joined the three guys on the front porch. Hunt had saved me a spot in the swing next to him. He rested his arm across the back of the swing, and I relaxed into the easy, comfortable feeling of being next to him. It wasn’t long ago I wondered if I would ever feel this way again. After my husband Dave’s murder, a little over two years ago, a new relationship was the last thing on my mind when I moved back home to Alabama. It just goes to show that you can’t predict what God has in store for your future. Hunt was the blessing I never even knew I needed. The beautiful sunshine warmed my face as I closed my eyes and breathed in the clean, fresh, spring air.

  “I’m glad to see that everyone is enjoying the calm before the storm,” Momma said, as she rocked away on the other end of the porch. “Is everything in order for wedding week?”

  My daughter, Macy, and her fiancé, Tony, were getting married on Saturday. It had been a pleasure watching their relationship grow since Tony moved here to help her remodel the bakery. He obviously loved her, and I couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law. It was bittersweet that Dave wasn’t here to meet him, but I knew he would’ve been pleased.

  Macy smiled up at Tony from her seat on the front steps, one step lower from where he sat giving her shoulders a relaxing rub. “I hope so, Nana. I made a wedding week schedule so everyone will know what’s happening and where you need to be.”

  “I’ll grab them out of the car,” Tony said and jogged toward his car in the driveway.

  “I’m working at the church office tomorrow,” I said. “After that, I’m at your disposal, all week.” I smiled at Macy. “Are you sure you don’t want to close the bakery the whole week?”

  “It’ll be fine, Mom. Tomorrow shouldn’t be a big deal. The only thing we have is my final dress fitting and that’s not until 6:00 tomorrow night.” Macy watched as Tony handed everyone a copy of the schedule. “This should help keep us all on track. It’s not like we have a huge wedding party to wrangle.”

  Kelly eyed the paper. “Don’t forget to give me the phone number of your Maid of Honor.” She glanced over at Tony. “And also, a phone number where I can reach your mom, Tony. That is, if you think she wouldn’t mind me having it. Just in case I need to touch base with either of them about the bride’s brunch on Thursday.”

  “I’m sure she won’t mind.” Tony smiled. “She and my dad aren’t quite as secretive as the rest of my family.”

  We hadn’t met Tony’s parents yet, but
I was looking forward to it. Tony’s family was just that. The “family.” His grandfather and uncle were still very much living that life. His dad wanted nothing to do with it, choosing to raise his family away from the atmosphere of organized crime. About a year ago, a friend of the “family” showed up in Sweetwater Springs on business and caused quite a stir for Tony and the rest of us. But, just to show you how things work out, the whole mess ended up helping Tony’s dad and grandfather restore a relationship that had been estranged for many years. Not only were we excited to meet the rest of Tony’s family, but maybe a little nervous, too.

  “The family is supposed to arrive late Tuesday afternoon. They’re staying at Pine Bluffs Resort. It will make it convenient since that’s where we decided to hold the wedding reception.” Tony looked at Macy and grinned.

  “I’m so glad you both came to an agreement on the caterer. It’s got to be hard to let go of the reins since both of you are chefs,” I said. It had been a bone of contention for the last few months between the two of them. Tony wanted to cater it himself and save money, but Macy was afraid it would take all his attention and they wouldn’t be able to enjoy the wedding. Between Macy’s bakery and coffee shop and Tony’s Italian restaurant next door, they had their hands full anyway.

  “I have really enjoyed getting to know the owner, Scott Abels, at High Cotton. We know a lot of the same people and just seem to speak the same language. Plus, he gave us a great deal on the price. That never hurts.” Tony smiled and nodded at Macy.

  “Did you know him before the fruitcake competition last Christmas?” Hunt asked as he took my hand, interlacing our fingers.

  “No, I didn’t,” Tony said. “After meeting him and hearing his plans for High Cotton, I have been looking forward to what the restaurant and resort will bring to the community.”

  Pine Bluffs Resort was a brand-new addition to Sweetwater Springs and had only been open a few weeks. It had faced a rocky start when some of the townspeople opposed plans for a condominium project. But, thankfully, after the developer decided to make it an exclusive resort on the lake instead of rental properties, views changed, and it had been smooth sailing. The resort sat on the edge of beautiful Smith Lake, one of the largest and deepest lakes in the eastern U.S. Our little town of Sweetwater Springs sat right in the middle of the Bankhead National Forest and on the edge of Smith Lake. It really was a nature lover’s paradise.