Dying for a Cupcake by Denise Swanson Read Free Book Online

Winnie and Poppy were huddled around Ronni’s kitchen table, cradling mugs of coffee. They barely acknowledged my presence as I took my seat. Both looked as if they had dressed in the dark, pulling on whatever clothing had been nearest their beds. Poppy had on a leather miniskirt, gray sweatshirt, and neon pink flip-flops. Instead of their usual artful disarray, her platinum curls stood out from her head like corkscrews and there were mascara smudges underneath her gorgeous amethyst eyes.
    Winnie had on black yoga pants, some sort of polyester floral blouse, and bunny slippers. Her gray hairfrizzed around her face like a dandelion gone to seed and she had tiny round glasses with lavender lenses perched on her nose. She must have been too groggy to put in her contacts. Winnie’s expression reminded me of a child who had begged for a sip of her father’s beer—reluctant to swallow the bitter brew, but unwilling to spit it out and admit she didn’t like it. Clearly, the universe had let Winnie down.
    Ronni was still wearing the dress she’d had on at the Golden Dragon. But instead of the nude patent leather Jimmy Choo platform pumps she’d worn at the restaurant, she was barefoot. Her chocolate brown waves were now knotted in a messy bun on the top of her head, and any vestige of the carefully applied makeup she’d had on at dinner was long gone. Her blue-gray eyes were bloodshot, and after she handed me a cup of coffee, she collapsed onto her chair as if all the bones in her body had instantly liquefied.
    I took a sip of the hot ambrosia, then asked, “Where’s Kizzy?”
    “On the phone with Lee,” Ronni answered. “Evidently, when someone who is apparently healthy dies suddenly, the cops are called. Since the ambulance was still within the city limits when Fallon passed, the Shadow Bend Police Department is in charge. Lee is waiting for Chief Kincaid to arrive at the hospital.”
    “Oh.” I took another mouthful of caffeinated goodness, then said, “Tell me what happened.” No one answered, and I prodded, “Start from the beginning. I know that Fallon said she had a headache when she called, but there really wasn’t any indication that her illness was serious. When did she start to get so sick?”
    “When we got home from the restaurant, Lee went to check on Fallon. She discovered her in the bathroom, vomiting.” Ronni buried her face in her hands, and hervoice was muffled as she continued. “Lee found me and asked the location of the closest urgent care center. I told her the nearest one was forty miles away at the county seat.”
    “That really is a problem.” Winnie spoke for the first time, the social crusader inside her overcoming her shock. “Now that he’s hired a second doctor, Noah needs to extend the hours of his clinic so the community has medical resources available within a reasonable time frame.”
    Ronni ignored Winnie’s outburst, and continued. “When I went upstairs with Lee, Fallon was sweating and seemed sort of hyper. She also seemed really ticked off at us, but I couldn’t figure out why. Then all of a sudden, she crumpled to the floor and started to have what I was pretty darn sure were convulsions. I ran downstairs and called nine-one-one, but by the time the EMTs got here, she was unconscious. They loaded her in the ambulance and took off for the hospital. When Lee arrived, the EMT told her that Fallon had died a few minutes after they left the B and B.”
    “Any idea what happened?” I put down my empty mug. “You said she was healthy. Did Kizzy or Lee tell you that or did you just assume it from her age and appearance? She could have had some sort of medical condition that wasn’t apparent to the untrained eye.”
    “Kizzy said that all of her employees had just had their yearly physicals and Fallon had passed with flying colors,” Ronni answered. “From the hyper way she was acting and the rest of her symptoms—the vomiting and sweating—my best guess would be