by K. M. Morgan
“I’m the detective here. I’ll be doing the investigating. Besides, I wouldn’t be pointing fingers if I were you. Especially given how flimsy your alibi is,” Detective Crumple warned.
Adam shut up in a hurry.
Detective Crumple continued. “Alright, I’m done with all of you…for now.”
The crowd started to disperse, happy to have the microscope off them for the time being.
Daisy meanwhile watched from a safe distance away, in complete shock. Each of the people the detective questioned looked guiltier than the rest. Even more jaw-dropping was how on top of the ball the detective was all of a sudden. Was this the dawn of a competent Chris Crumple?
Chapter Nine
While Daisy was still trying to come to grips with what had happened, Detective Crumple approached. Daisy couldn’t help but wonder where the detective’s bumbling nature had gone? Was he just hiding it well, or had he truly managed to shoo it away? She’d find out soon enough.
“Ms. McDare, we meet again,” Detective Chris Crumple said.
“And under dubious circumstances it looks like,” Daisy said.
“We really do have to stop running into each other like this,” Detective Crumple insisted.
“Trust me, I’m not running into you on purpose.”
“Yet dead bodies seem to keep popping up around you.”
Did Detective Crumple really need to bring that up? How rude. Unfortunately, it also had a disturbing ring of truth to it. This was the fourth dead body she’d come across in nine months.
Eek.
It sounded even worse the more Daisy repeated it in her head. If only she knew how to make it stop. Short of that, the detective could at least not rub that troublesome fact in her face.
At the same time, Daisy wasn’t about to let the detective make her feel bad.
“I could say the same thing to you,” Daisy replied.
“I’m a detective. You’re an interior decorator.”
He had a good point. One she wanted to forget.
“Don’t remind me,” Daisy said.
“I can’t help but wonder what you did to deserve that kind of horrible luck. You must have some crazy voodoo doll mystic bad mojo,” Detective Crumple said.
Of all the days for Detective Crumple to stop being bumbling, why did he have to hone in on Daisy’s bad luck? There were more pressing issues at play here. Not to mention, she was in no mood to keep taking metaphorical pies in the face.
Daisy deflected. “Can we talk about something else? I mean, a man is dead here.”
Detective Crumple did not enjoy her taking a tone with him. He had a badge, and he wasn’t afraid to flash it. Crumple got uppity all of a sudden. “That’s what I get for trying to make small talk. Here I was about to offer you one of my donuts too. After all this time, you still haven’t realized how this works, have you? I ask the questions here.”
Great. Of course the detective’s ego had to be as unsteady as a house of cards flapping in the wind. Unfortunately, while trying to get the conversation back on point, Daisy had managed to bruise Crumple’s fragile ego. She had some backtracking to do.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Daisy said.
“You’d better be sorry. I’m not going to have my authority undermined. This badge isn’t just for decoration.”
No, but it was still jelly-stained. Daisy tried not to laugh. How many hardscrabble, serious police detectives had leftover bits of a donut jelly crusting over their badge? Crumple seemed to have the market cornered on that one.
That was more like the Crumple she’d become accustomed to. Who tried pretending he was on top of the ball, only for his foibles to sprout up again. Who let his ego get in the way of the facts. Who always found a way to be bumbling, despite his best efforts. Crumple managed to evade that for the time being, but how long could he keep that up?
In the meantime, the detective was determined to appear hardnosed. “Now, where were you between eight and nine o’clock last night?”
Daisy’s jaw nearly dropped. At first she thought Crumple was joking, questioning her like she was a suspect. Then she realized he was dead serious.
The nerve of him. It was like Crumple had conveniently forgotten Daisy had saved his bacon during the last two cases. If anything, Crumple should be asking for her help, not shooting an accusatory eye her way.
“Excuse me?” Daisy replied.
“You heard me. Where were you?”
“At the movies.”
“Oh yeah, what movie?”
“Romance By The Bay,” Daisy revealed.
Detective Crumple grimaced. “Really, you actually went to that on purpose?”
Ugh. Was Daisy really going to have to put up with Crumple raining on her romantic comedy parade? She wasn’t going to put up with having her taste insulted.
“Yes, and it was fantastic,” Daisy said.
“I suppose one of your girlfriend’s can corroborate that story then?” Detective Crumple asked.
“Actually, my boyfriend took me to the movie. But yes, he can verify my story.”
Detective Crumple’s jaw dropped. “You actually found a man willing to go to that movie instead of Beastzilla Takes The Big Apple?”
Daisy was getting awfully tired of Crumple’s line of condescending questions. “Yes.”
“Hold on to him tight then. Men like that don’t come around often.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you done questioning me now?”
“Ms. McDare, I’ll let you know when we’re done,” Detective Crumple said.
Daisy couldn’t wait for their conversation to end. Usually she tried to press the detective for more information about the case. She wasn’t in the mood this time. This whole conversation left a sour taste in her mouth.
Suddenly the detective seemed to fancy himself as a big shot. Daisy then made a decision. If Crumple was so dogged to prove he had superior investigative skills, Daisy wasn’t going to stop him. For once, Daisy was in no mood to stick her head in police business.
At the same time, there was still one other matter Daisy wanted to address before ducking out of this conversation. It was a real bugaboo too. Crumple had gotten under her skin, and he had some explaining to do for that.
“What’s your problem today?” Daisy asked.
“I’m tired of you making me look bad. It took a lot of work to earn this badge. Then you just stroll on in with a few lucky hunches and totally usurp my authority. Well let me tell you something, if there’s something I hate, it’s being usurped,” Detective Crumple explained.
“You know, you could always just look at me as a friend, rather than an enemy. After all, two heads are better than one.”
“Do I look like I play well with others? There’s a reason I don’t work with a partner, or have a wife for that matter.”
Sheesh. With Detective Crumple acting so rude, it was no use trying to reason with him.
Daisy sighed. “Never mind.”
“Why don’t you just go back to decorating?” Detective Crumple suggested.
“Gladly. Does that mean I can go?” Daisy asked.
“Yeah. You’re all set,” Detective Crumple grumbled.
Daisy couldn’t wait to get away from both the detective and the construction site. The delicious taste of a chocolate muffin she’d eaten for breakfast was completely gone, having been replaced with the bitter taste of sour grapes.
***
Decorating was more than just a job to Daisy. It was one of her great passions. There was something so therapeutic about losing herself in a decorating job.
That morning, Daisy would have loved to dive into decorating. It would really help to take her mind off the wild flurry of things racing around in her head. Unfortunately, she was out of luck.
No work was going to get done that morning. Kelly Stinson decided it would be best to dismiss the staff for the day given the circumstances.
Daisy would have felt really sorry for Kelly, Owen, and Ad
am Stinson, but given that they were all murder suspects, it was wise not to limit her sympathy.
Besides, suddenly there was a more pressing issue to attend to. As Daisy made her way to her car to leave Majestic Estates, she saw a police deputy bringing Patrick Potter to Detective Crumple for questioning.
Chapter Ten
Oh dear. Daisy had a terrible feeling as Detective Crumple approached Patrick Potter. Normally Daisy would have put herself right in the middle of things, but given the detective’s crabby mood, she figured it might be best if she held back for now. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to listen in on their conversation, because she absolutely was.
Things certainly didn’t look good for Patrick. Scott Stinson was murdered on the construction site the day after Scott fired Patrick as the foreman. Daisy warned her father’s friend not to do anything rash, but Patrick seemed to have his mind set on payback. Was this what Patrick meant? Daisy sure hoped not.
Detective Crumple was determined to get to the bottom of things.
“Mr. Potter, nice of you to join us,” Detective Crumple said.
“It’s not every day police show up on your doorstep,” Patrick replied.
“It’s also not every day a man is found murdered on a construction site the morning after he fired the site’s foreman,” Detective Crumple followed up.
“Hey, I’d watch what accusations you throw around,” Patrick said.
“Or what? Are you going to threaten me, like you did Scott after he fired you?”
“I was upset, ok? I said some things I didn’t mean. We all say things we regret in the heat of the moment.”
“The question is, did you do more than just say things? Did you actually follow through on those threats?”
Patrick’s temper started to flare up. “How dare you make that accusation?”
“A man has been murdered, and it’s my job to find out who did it. Stop pretending like you are above suspicion.”
Patrick pleaded his innocence. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh really? You certainly had a motive.”
“A lot of people wanted Scott Stinson dead.”
“Yet he was murdered on a construction site. One you knew all too well,” Detective Crumple deduced.
“That doesn’t mean I did it.”
“No, but it doesn’t mean you’re innocent either. Where were you between eight and nine o’clock last night?”
“I was watching the hockey game,” Patrick answered.
“That must have been one incredible game. You’re not the first one to give that alibi. The question is, do you have anyone to verify that?”
“Look, I was watching the game. Do you want to know who won?” Patrick asked.
“No. I want to know if you have anyone to corroborate your story.”
“I was alone at my house, if that’s what you mean. But I’m telling you, I was watching the game--”
Detective Crumple looked anything but convinced. “Uh huh. It’s a nice story, but your words don’t mean anything unless you have someone to back them up.”
“I told you, I didn’t do this.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Patrick grew increasingly frustrated. “Do you have any evidence?”
“My men are working on getting that,” Detective Crumple said.
“So what you’re saying is you have nothing except accusations then?” Patrick asked.
Detective Crumple couldn’t argue with that.
“I know my rights. Without hard evidence, you can’t arrest me. Now can I go?” Patrick continued.
Daisy could tell the detective wanted to arrest Patrick right then and there. The fact was, without a confession or evidence, Crumple couldn’t keep Patrick in jail for longer than a few days.
As much as Detective Crumple hated to admit it, he was at an impasse.
“For now,” Detective Crumple said. “Don’t leave town though, you hear?”
***
Patrick had gotten off by the skin of his teeth. Detective Crumple stared daggers into Patrick’s back as he walked away.
Daisy saw Patrick breathing a big sigh of relief as he moved away from the scene. She had some questions of her own for Patrick. No doubt that would make for lively conversation as Daisy gave Patrick a ride back to his house.
Patrick looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Daisy understood the feeling. She remembered the first time she was ever questioned by a detective. It was nerve-wracking—despite the fact that she was completely innocent.
With a shadow of guilt casting heavy over Patrick, he was more on edge than ever. At the same time, Patrick was happy to see Daisy’s familiar face. If there was one thing Patrick had a shortage of at Majestic Estates, it was friends.
The drive to Patrick’s house was tense, and not just for Patrick. Daisy needed answers of her own. She didn’t want to let the fact that Patrick was her father’s friend cloud her vision.
She hoped he was telling the truth about his innocence. Deep down, she believed he was. There was only one way to know for sure however.
Patrick meanwhile was outraged. “I can’t believe that detective. He actually thinks I did it.”
“Can you blame him? Scott Stinson was murdered on a construction site that you used to be the foreman of,” Daisy said.
“Daisy, you don’t actually think I did this, do you?”
“I’m just saying, you didn’t do yourself any favors. The entire sales office saw you threaten Scott Stinson.”
“Stop the car,” Patrick demanded.
“What?”
“Stop the car,” Patrick said.
Daisy pulled over and turned to Patrick.
“What is it?”
“I want you to look into my eyes as I say this. I didn’t kill Scott Stinson,” Patrick declared.
Daisy was relieved to see he was telling the truth. Guilty people were generally in no hurry to make eye contact. They were the quickest to look away. Patrick was just the opposite.
As Daisy stared at Patrick, the truth was as clear as day. He was being a hundred percent honest with her. At that moment, she believed him with all her heart. She could feel his innocence.
“I believe you,” Daisy said.
“Good.”
“Here’s the thing though, it isn’t just me you have to convince.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I realize it looks bad for me,” Patrick said.
“You mean horrible. Do you have any idea how close you were to being arrested?”
“Don’t remind me. Especially when I really was watching hockey at the time.”
“That doesn’t matter. An alibi is only as good as having someone to back it up,” Daisy said.
“Which I don’t have.”
“There are a few things working in your favor however,” Daisy explained.
“Please, do tell. I could really go for some good news at this point,” Patrick admitted.
“Suspicion can only take Crumple so far. He needs one of two things to really have a case. One is hard evidence. The other is a confession.”
“Considering I didn’t do it, he won’t be getting either of those,” Patrick said.
“No. So it looks like you might be out of the woods.”
Patrick exhaled. “What a relief.”
“Still, you might want to steer away from threatening people from now on,” Daisy said.
“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea,” Patrick admitted.
When Daisy dropped Patrick off at his house, she had a good idea of her own involving chocolate. If Daisy had learned anything, it was that chocolate was always an idea worth following through with.
Chapter Eleven
Daisy’s mind was messier than a competitor’s bib after a pie eating contest. A trip to Sweet Tooth was usually enough to tidy up things in her head. Even if she was far from tying up all the loose ends, a cupcake made for a good start.
That afternoon, Samantha Johnson realized t
he limits of her baked goods. Usually one of her pastries was enough to put a smile on Daisy’s face. This time, that wasn’t the case. Samantha couldn’t pretend that didn’t trouble her. Maybe she’d have to pull out her secret weapon—double fudge.
“Want another cupcake?” Samantha asked.
“Thanks, but not today,” Daisy replied.
Samantha had to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. What? Daisy was never one to turn down a cupcake. This was serious.
Samantha went into damage control mode. “I know you’re down about there being another murder--”
“It’s not just that.”
“Is it about Patrick Potter? Because your instincts are usually spot on, and you told me you’re convinced that he’s innocent.”
“It’s not that either,” Daisy admitted.
“Well then help me out here. I’m just a pastry chef, not a mind reader,” Samantha said.
“It’s about something Crumple brought up.”
“Uh oh. What did he say to put his foot in his mouth this time?”
“He actually managed to keep his foot out of his mouth. That’s what’s so baffling,” Daisy revealed.
“Spill the beans. What did he say?” Samantha asked.
“That dead bodies have a way of popping up wherever I go,” Daisy said. She then got an all too serious look on her face. “Do you think I have crazy, voodoo doll mystic bad mojo?”
Samantha furrowed her brow.
Granny Annie meanwhile came out from the back and fired off an answer.
“That sounds like a bad reggae song,” Granny Annie said.
“It does. Which makes me feel even worse that he might be right. I mean, for a woman with McDare for a last name, I hardly have the luck of the Irish here. With the way things have been going for me lately, if I ever did come across a leprechaun, odds are they’d be murdered for their pot of gold,” Daisy vented.
“You’re being ridiculous. Detective Crumple is sore because you keep making him look like a fool,” Samantha said.
