Lois Lavrisa - Chubby Chicks 02 - Murderous Muffins

by Lois Lavrisa

  “Why, of course.” I exited the room with Ray on my heels.

  I locked Mr. Phong’s room, then walked a few feet down to Frank and Lily’s room. “Let me call them, just to make sure it’s okay to go in here.”

  Officer Ray nodded.

  I called Lily. She picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, Miss Bezu. I’m so sorry for the way Frank treated you.”

  I said, “No worries at all. He wasn’t feeling well, and I know some people get cranky when they are in that state. How’s he doing now?”

  “Not great, but he’s insisting on leaving today and going to the gym. Actually we are on the way now to drop off his bag in his locker, and then he’s taking me to work. He’s such a sweetie. Even as sick as he is, he wants to be with me to protect me.”

  “I’m glad that he’s up and about. Listen, do you mind if Officer Ray and I go into your room?” I asked Lily.

  “I don’t see why not. While you’re in there, can you go into the nightstand drawer and see if a phone charger is in there? I can’t find it for the life of me, and I think I had an extra one in there.”

  “Sure. I’ll text you back if I find it.”

  “Thanks, Miss Bezu. Got to go. Frank is already in the car and wants to leave.”

  I clicked off. Unlocking the door, I said to Officer Ray, “She gave us permission to enter her room.”

  Once inside the room, Officer Ray began to take pictures as he walked around. I strode over to the nightstand and pulled the top drawer open. No cords were visible. Perhaps her charger had shifted under something when the drawer opened. I moved a few things aside. Several small glass bottles rolled around. Picking up a bottle, I read the label Equipoise, Boldenone Undecylenate 2ml amp by the manufacturer Roid Plus. Next to it was a sealed box of syringes with needles. I placed them back in the drawer.

  Officer Ray cleared his throat. “Are you snooping?”

  “Uh, no.” I slammed the drawer. “Lily wanted me to look for her phone charger. But it wasn’t there.”

  He scowled at me. “But look here.” He picked up a plate from on top of the dresser that sat diagonally opposite to the nightstand.

  My heart raced. I had been so intent on searching for Lily’s charger, I’d forgotten about the plate. Not that I had anything to hide. “That’s from my kitchen.” A smattering of crumbs and a lone chocolate chip lay on the plate. I knew they were from my muffins. A knife felt like it wedged in my gut. Could the muffin remnants be from the same batch that had caused Mr. Phong’s death? “Do you think that Frank ate from the tainted batch of muffins?”

  He pulled out a plastic bag from his back pocket. He placed the plate inside the bag. “You’ll get this back after I’m done with it.”

  I said, “Please take your time. I have plenty of plates.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Officer Ray tromped to the door, his hand on the handle. “I’ll let myself out. But I suggest, Miss Gordon, that you stay in town.”

  The way he said that to me, it sounded commanding, as though I was still a suspect. I tried to sound lighthearted, even though I felt the opposite. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

  “Good.” With that, Officer Ray left.

  A few minutes later, I made my way back to the kitchen. Cat turned off the faucet as I entered. She placed a clean dish on the drying rack. “So what did Mr. Personality Police Officer want?”

  Leaning against the counter, I crossed my arms. “Probably looking for clues to Frank’s illness. He took a plate of mine.”

  “A plate?” Cat asked.

  “Yes, it had remnants of my chocolate chip muffins on it.”

  “Oh?”

  “Perhaps from the same batch of muffins that Mr. Phong had eaten.”

  Cat’s eyes widened. “Why do you think that?”

  I began to pace in front of Cat. “My hunch is that maybe Mr. Phong, who, as you know, had a slight frame, ate a lot of the tainted ones. He always had three or four. So I think that the sheer quantity he consumed could have been fatal to him. Whereas Frank, who is bulkier and probably only had one muffin, only got sick.”

  “Hmmm. You may have something there. But it still leads us back to…who poisoned your muffins? Because you didn’t and I didn’t.”

  I tapped my foot on the hardwood floor. “And Luiz didn’t, either. Again, no motive.” Thinking of him made my stomach flutter. Maybe I did have a crush on him.

  Cat added, “And as far as Mr. Phong’s cousin, Joseph, I think we can safely rule him out as a suspect.”

  “Yes. And José vouched for him,” I said.

  Cat nodded. “So that is ironclad.”

  “Who’s left? I think we’ve run out of suspects. After all, Frank wouldn’t poison himself.” I tapped my fingers on the countertop.

  “That leaves Lily.” After Cat opened the refrigerator, a scent of oranges filled the room.

  I let out a long sigh. “Again, no motive. Everyone who lived here had the opportunity to harm Mr. Phong. All of us also had the means. Lord only knows I have more insect poisons than the average household. It’s not like I lock them up. But not one of us had the motive. Or am I missing something?”

  “Do you want some?” Cat held a glass pitcher of orange juice.

  After removing two glasses and a bottle of champagne from the cupboard, I handed them to Cat. “Let’s add a little fortification to the juice. Mimosa?”

  “A little drop won’t hurt.” Cat smiled as she fixed our drinks.

  I bit my bottom lip. “So what are we missing?”

  Handing me a glass, Cat said, “I’m drawing a blank.”

  “Me, too.” I took a sip. The sweet juice with a kick of champagne hit the spot. “Thank you, this is good.”

  “You’re welcome.” Cat drank some of her beverage. “You know, maybe, just maybe, you and I should let it go. All of it.”

  “But I thought you were all gung ho with this detective work.”

  “I was. I mean, I am.” Cat shrugged. “But remember, solving Lucy’s death was pure accident. If Annie Mae hadn’t wanted to go back and try to sell her garbage Dumpster chandelier, we would have never found out that Scarlett was the killer.”

  “It doesn’t matter how you got to the solution. What matters is that you solved the crime. Right?” I looked at Cat.

  “You are so sweet. But the truth is—it does matter. That’s why they have detectives trained in this sort of thing. They know what to do, and have learned how to investigate. Annie Mae and I just had dumb luck. Pure and simple.”

  “No. You’re very intelligent, resourceful, and competent. I believe that y’all have a gut instinct for this type of work. You truly do.”

  Cat chuckled. “You’re really a great friend for saying that. However, I think it was a one-time lucky deal. After all, I can’t seem to get any closer to finding anything about my dad’s shooting.”

  “With more time, I bet you will.”

  Cat grinned. “You’re such an optimist.”

  “Hattie used to say, ‘An optimist’s blood type is always B-positive.’ Although I am sure she heard that somewhere else, it rang true to me. No matter what life handed her or our family, she always saw the good in it. I’m blessed to have learned that from her.”

  My cell rang. I checked the caller ID. “It’s José. I’ll put him on speaker.” I said into the phone, “Hi, José. Both Cat and I can hear you.”

  “That’s fine. Listen, did you hear that Frank left the hospital AMA?” José said.

  “Is that acronymic for the American Medical Association?” I said into the phone.

  “Or it could be the American Management Association. My husband attended a seminar on professional leadership sponsored by them,” Cat said.

  I said, “Oh, and my father belonged to the Academy of Model Aeronautics. It went by AMA.”

  “One of my neighbors is a member of the American Motorcyclist Association,” Cat added.

  José laughed. “Are you done?”

>   Cat and I said yes.

  “AMA stands for discharge ‘against medical advice.’ Frank signed himself out,” José said.

  “Oh? I spoke to Lily a little while ago. She mentioned that Frank would be taking her to work after he dropped his bag at the gym,” I said.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to give you some good news,” José said.

  “We really need some now,” Cat said.

  “I got a peek at Frank’s toxicology report, and there was no evidence of the same poison that was found to have been lethal to Mr. Phong,” José said.

  Cat high-fived me. “That’s terrific. Bezu is off the hook.”

  “At least for Frank she is. But I’m afraid I’ve also read the reports on Mr. Phong—he ingested a toxin. One of the same that was found under Bezu’s sink.” José took a deep breath.

  “Oh no.” The words caught in my throat. “José, you know that I had nothing to do with it. All of those bottles under my sink were used to kill insects. Not people. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course I know that because I know you. However, this is not my case. As it is, I am skirting around the edges using my connections to find out what I can to help you without getting myself fired,” José said.

  “But surely you can give your word for my character,” I said.

  “No, I can’t. Those involved will not listen to me. After all, they know we are friends. And that in and of itself counts me out as an objective witness. I just wanted you to know that. If there is anything you gals know that can help clear this up, I suggest you tell me,” José said.

  “Well, you see, it’s not that easy. We’ve sort of come to a standstill on our end,” Cat said.

  “We just can’t think of where to go next. There is not one person left to consider as a suspect,” I added.

  “I don’t know what to tell you about suspects, but if you do come up with anything, I’m here to help out,” José said. “Listen, I have to go. You two gals stay out of trouble. But I strongly suggest you think about who could be the perpetrator and let me know if you come up with someone. If not, Bezu, it all leads back to you.” With that, José hung up.

  “Well, that’s certainly not encouraging for you, Bezu. I’m so sorry.” Cat placed a hand on my arm.

  “As my Hattie would say when she found herself at odds, ‘I’m standing in need of a prayer,’ and I’d say that’s true for me now.” Grabbing my glass, I chugged the rest of my drink. I winced.

  Luiz entered the kitchen. “Good day, ladies.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I was pretty sure it was because of Luiz and not the sudden jolt of champagne hitting my system. He wore tan slacks and a cream linen blazer over a pale green shirt, accentuating his blue-green eyes.

  “Please tell us you bear good news,” Cat said to him.

  “Yes, that would be lovely, considering I’m still a murder suspect.” I rinsed out my glass.

  “Oh?” Luiz said.

  “Of course, we know she didn’t kill Mr. Phong, and although Frank is a jerk, she didn’t poison him, either,” Cat said.

  “The bodybuilder guy is, um, he’s…” Luiz, eyes wide, stopped midsentence.

  Waving my hands, I said, “Oh no. No. He’s not dead.”

  “He was hospitalized,” Cat added.

  “That serious?” Luiz asked.

  “Not really, he’s out now.” Cat finished her drink. “So what’s going on with your search?”

  Luiz leaned against the counter. “I’ve narrowed it down to Joseph. He’s the only person who could have taken the files. But I have no proof yet.”

  “I don’t know how much I can help, but if I can be of assistance, please let me know,” I said. “Would you like a beverage?”

  “No, thank you.” Luiz asked, “Bezu, could you do me one favor?”

  “It depends on the favor.” I smiled.

  Luiz winked at me. “Nothing that would compromise your values and morals, I assure you.”

  “What a shame.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how coy that sounded. Ugh. I was officially the world’s most awkward flirt.

  Cat held up a hand. “Will you two excuse me? I have to do some paperwork in my room.” She exited the kitchen.

  I let out a tiny cough. “I’m sorry about how I responded to your request for a favor. It seems that one drink loosens my lips.”

  “Actually you made my day. Sorry about the line.” Luis chuckled. “I heard it was a popular phrase from some movie.”

  “Clint Eastwood’s character, Harry Callahan, in the 1983 movie Sudden Impact, said ‘Go ahead, make my day.’ Hattie had a mad crush on Clint Eastwood so we watched all his movies over and over again. I memorized so many lines; I could’ve been a standin for any part.”

  “A movie buff, huh? You and I will have to see one soon. Or perhaps we can stay in and rent a DVD. I could cook you one of my famous Brazilian dishes: feijoada, a black bean stew with smoked meats. My comfort food.”

  I arched an eyebrow. He wants to make me a meal and spend an evening watching a movie. I was gob-smacked.

  “Of course, if you prefer seafood, I can make vatapa, which is loaded with shrimp and has a cashew peanut sauce. Unless you are allergic to shellfish or nuts?” Luis asked.

  “Oh no. I mean, all the food you mentioned sounds incredible.” I hung my head.

  “Then why do you look so forlorn?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “It’s just that whoever poisoned the food has not been found yet. Leaving me the main suspect. I’m sorry, but I can’t make plans until this whole mess is straightened out.” Just my luck. Some decent guy walked into my life just as I had one foot in the penitentiary.

  Luiz lowered his eyes. “I understand. And I am sorry that you have to go through all of this. Is there anything I can help with?”

  “No, thanks.” I stiffened my posture and took a long inhale. I had to get out of my little pity party and get back to work. “So, you said earlier that you had a favor to ask me.”

  Luis held up a hand. “Oh no. That is not important now.”

  “Please, I don’t mind. Anyway, I am sort of at a standstill on our investigation.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are the police finished examining your house?”

  “Yes, as far as I know. They’ve got all the evidence and anything else they wanted. Why do you ask?”

  “Can you, only if it is not illegal or anything, look in Mr. Phong’s room to see if you find any files or anything related to my company?”

  “Even better. Why don’t we head upstairs together now and take a look?” I put my glass in the sink. Taking out my keys, I jingled them. “Let’s go.”

  Luiz chortled. “You American women, I try to cook you a meal first, maybe see a movie like a proper date, but you want to skip ahead and go right to the bedroom.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luiz poked around Mr. Phong’s things. I glanced around, hoping to find something, anything, that looked like a clue. Except, what did a clue resemble? It wasn’t like there was a neon arrow pointing at it, although that would really be helpful.

  “Are you finding anything?” I asked Luiz.

  He lifted a stack of books on a bedside chair. “No. How about you?”

  “Nothing.” Sighing, I said, “I’m about as useful as a screen door on a submarine or a trap door on a canoe.”

  Luiz smiled. “Which means?”

  “I forget that you’re not from around here. It means that I can’t find anything.”

  “I think I need a translator with you.”

  “Sure, coming from a guy who pretended to be American, except with a bad accent.”

  “Touché.”

  Tittering, I plucked a ceramic coffee cup from the dresser top, and then I sauntered over to the window. Looking out, I saw the courtyard; the tea olive vines stretched over the fence next to the hydrangea bush, whose limbs draped downward, heavy with flowers. For a moment, my thoughts
wandered back in time to my family gathered in lawn chairs under the shade of the oak tree dripping with Spanish moss. In the summer, after dinner, we’d head outside. We’d have our dessert while sipping tall glasses of sweet iced tea as we laughed and told stories until the sun set. I cracked the window open and took in a deep breath, hoping to smell the flowers. Instead, I saw a line of ants on the faded, chipped windowsill. I brushed them away. “Shoo.”

  “Me?” Luiz asked.

  “No. The carpenter ants. I’m afraid I have an infestation of them, and soon they will have taken over every inch of the house until there is nothing left.”

  “Did they cause the roof leaks?”

  “No. I think the roof’s just tired and worn out.” I rubbed my hand on the plaster wall. “No matter. One day this whole place will be restored to its original grandeur.”

  He asked, “How long do you think that will take?”

  Glancing around the room, I said, “At the rate I’m going, it could be a while, but I have some money now and plan to take care of the most pressing problems first.”

  “It’s such a grand home.”

  My eyes watered up. “It’s like family to me.”

  He moved next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  His touch made a shiver run down my spine. Then my pride got the best of me. I surely wasn’t looking for a handout. The Gordons never were charity cases—instead, we donated heavily to organizations that provided for those in need. I stiffened my spine. “No, thank you. I have all I need.” Which was sort of true since I had the money from the pearl necklace, although it would probably take double that to do all that was needed.

  Removing his hand, he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to insult you.”

  I smiled. “So, are we done in here?”

  “Almost. I want to check another spot.” He knelt down and poked his head under the bed. “I noticed this the other night. You have a loose board under here.”

  “I’ll add it to the ‘things to be done’ list.”

  He chuckled. “I mean, this would be a great place to stash things, here under the floorboard.”

  “Oh? Right. Here, let me help you slide the bed over.” We both pushed the bed. It squeaked as we moved it a few feet.