Battered to Death (Daphne Martin Cake Mysteries) by Gayle Trent Page B

crumb-coated it, and then I covered it in white fondant. I melted candy disks in the double boiler and poured the melted candy into the seashell molds. Hey, I was no fool, and I guessed that not using one of the biggest sponsor’s gifts would result in a points deduction.
    While I was waiting for the candy in the molds to harden, I made fondant figures—a boy and a girl—to go into the boat. I also took some of the remaining cake and carved it to look like water rising up on the sides of the boat. This, too, I crumb-coated and then covered in blue fondant.
    I looked at the clock and saw that I had fifteen minutes remaining. My figures were blond—representing Leslie and Lucas. I had time to make one more . . . a brown-haired boy . . . for Alex. I then placed the figures into the boat, scattered the shells around the crushed-cookie “sand” covering the cake board, and then painted USS Alex as the name of the boat. I didn’t want Alex to have any doubt that I was including him in my creation. I wondered if I should have named the boat the USS Armstrong and utilized Lucas’s and Leslie’s surname instead, but I would make it a point to explain the reason behind the USS Alex later on. I felt confident my niece and nephew would understand.
I was taking one final look at the cake trying to determine what—if anything—else it needed when the timer went off.
    “Whoo-hoo, Aunt Daphne!” I heard Lucas yell from the audience. “Way to go!”
    I smiled and winked at him. I was glad he and Jason had arrived in time to see the end of the competition.
    “Contestants, your time is up,” said Kimmie Compton. “No more work may be done on your cakes. Please step away from your tables.”
    Four chairs had been set up to the left of the audience members. Kimmie instructed us to go sit in the chairs while the judges perused the cakes. At last, I was able to look around and see what the other decorators had done.
    Pauline Wilson’s cake was an ivory wedding cake creation with a shell border and Cornelli lace. Like me, she used cookie crumbs to make a sandy covering for her cake board. Pauline also used the “sand” to decorate the top of her cake. The cake was sprinkled with shells she’d made using the candy mold supplied by one of the sponsors.
The competitor to Pauline’s right was named Madge Koker. I’d never seen Madge before, but she was a short, heavyset woman with gray hair and kind blue eyes that were only slightly hidden by her glasses. Madge’s cake had been iced turquoise to look like water and was decorated with fondant fish and candy shells.
    The final competitor was Lou Gimmel. I smiled and gave Lou a little wave. He returned my smile and gave me a nod. His cake had been covered two-thirds of the way in blue frosting, with white waves cresting up over the cake to accommodate the fondant surfers who were riding the waves. The other third of the cake had been made to look like the beach, complete with fondant figures, a tiny sand castle, beach balls, chairs, and umbrellas. Lou’s cake worried me. I felt I was probably looking at the winning cake on his table. It was beautiful.
    As Kimmie Compton introduced the judges and then us, the competitors, Pauline Wilson glared at me. I had no idea what I’d done to deserve her ire, so I simply ignored her. As soon as Ms. Compton was finished with the introductions, however, I learned what Pauline’s problem was.
    She raised her hand in the air and shook it around like an elementary school student who needed to go to the bathroom. “Ms. Compton, I think Daphne Martin should be disqualified.”
    “And why do you feel that way, Ms. Wilson?” Ms. Compton asked.
“Because she cut up her cake. She didn’t leave it in the traditional two tiers,” Pauline said.
    “There was nothing in the rules indicating that the cake had to remain in the shape in which you received it,” said Ms. Compton. “I appreciate your concern, but the judges will decide what is and