by Cindy Bell
Lucy nodded her head and reached for her purse and phone. When she saw her phone her heart lurched. There was an open call on the line. One look at the top of the screen revealed that it was to Jack’s phone. Her hand shook as she picked up the phone and put it to her ear. There was no voice on the other end. But there was also no dial tone. Clearly she must have accidentally called him when she dropped her things in the car, or even before that. She cringed and hung up the phone. As she stared in horror through the windshield she saw Jack seated near the window of the restaurant. He had his phone in his hand.
“Okay, deep breaths. Just because you butt-dialed him, doesn’t mean that he listened. In fact, he probably just hung up when he realized it was an accident. What kind of person would listen to ten minutes of a butt-dial?” She cringed as she realized that she was exactly that kind of person. She’d be far too curious to hang up. Would Jack? She reviewed in her head the things she said in an attempt to dismiss the situation as no big deal. However, it was a big deal. Especially the last few words. Kiss him? Why would she even say that? He’d given her no indication that he would even want to kiss her. With her cheeks flushed and her breath short, she saw Jack wave to her through the window. And, she’d been spotted. She forced a smile and waved back. She couldn’t exactly turn around and drive home now. Maybe if she got through the first few minutes of the meal she could pretend to have a headache and run and hide. If she sat in the car any longer he would certainly wonder what she was up to. Her skin prickled with embarrassment as she stepped out of the car.
“I’m sure he didn’t hear anything. I’m worrying over nothing. Let it go, let it go.” She pulled open the door to the restaurant. He stood when he saw her approach the table. His phone was still in his hand.
“Hi there.”
“Hi.” Lucy smiled and sat down in the chair across from him. Could he tell that her forehead was covered in sweat? It wasn’t dripping yet, so maybe he couldn’t.
“I hope you’re hungry, they’re running a meat special today.”
“A meat special?” She quirked a brow.
“It’s a joke.” He laughed. “Remember our conversation?”
“Oh yes.” She grinned. “Very funny.” Maybe that meant he hadn’t heard a word of what she’d said on the phone. She breathed a sigh of relief and picked up a menu.
“Oh look, I just got a message from you.” He laughed as he held up the phone.
She dropped the menu, choked on her own saliva, and tried to cover it with a cough. “Oh no, um, that was a mistake.”
“Lucy, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. But you know, you don’t need to listen to that message. It was uh, meant for someone else. I dialed the wrong number.”
“Oh okay.” He waved to the waiter. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Just water is fine, thank you.” She smiled at the waiter. The waiter nodded and walked away.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, Lucy? You look a little upset.”
“I guess the memorial was just a little more intense than I expected.”
“Yes, especially with the sprinklers.” He shook his head. “That was poor planning.”
“Yes, it was.” She willed herself not to look at his phone. Had he deleted the message? She hadn’t seen him delete it. Maybe he had when she smiled at the waiter. Now she would never know whether he did or not. Her heart raced so fast it was hard to put two thoughts together.
“But let’s not talk about Hugo, or the case, I’d love to know more about you. What types of books do you like to read?”
Startled by the question she stared at him. “Magazines.”
“Oh, okay.” He grinned.
“I mean not magazines. Those aren’t books. I like thrillers.”
“Hmm, I find that surprising.”
“You do?”
“Sure. Most women I’ve met are into romance.”
“Not me, not at all. In fact I think romance novels give women unrealistic expectations.”
“Interesting thought. What kind of expectations do you think women should have?”
Her eyes widened. The conversation had veered into very dangerous territory.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. But, I guess it’s silly to think that true love exists.”
“Oh?” He nodded to the waiter as he brought their drinks. “You don’t think so?”
“Not like it is depicted in the movies. Like some magical force draws you together and nothing can break that bond, or that soulmates are real. That’s all a little juvenile.”
“I believe in it.” He picked up his glass and took a sip. “I think there’s one right person out there for me.”
“But have you considered how impossible that sounds? What are the chances that the one right person for you will end up on the same continent as you, let alone the same state?”
“All of that works itself out.” He smiled.
“How?”
“I don’t need to know how.”
She sat back against her chair and looked across the table at him. “I need to know how.”
“That’s okay, intelligent people usually want an explanation for things. I guess I’m at the point where I’ve just given up on the explanations and accepted what it is for what it is, a mystery.”
“I like the way you think.”
“I’m glad you do. It must be nice to share a business with your family. Are you close?”
“Yes, I’d say as close as a family can get. It is nice, I really enjoy seeing them every day and being able to share a common goal. You seem to be very close to your sister as well.”
“Yes, she puts up with me.” He laughed. “I’m not sure how. She’s five years younger and I keep telling her she needs to get rid of this old man and have a little more fun.”
“Oh, you’re not an old man.”
“Not yet, but time does pass us by, doesn’t it?” He frowned. “I never expected to be single at this age.”
“Honestly, I didn’t either.” She smiled at the waiter as their food was delivered. For a few minutes they both praised the aroma and plating of the food. “But I’m getting used to being single.”
“So it’s not something you want to change?”
“If something’s not broken, don’t fix it right?” She smiled and filled her mouth with food before she could add anything embarrassing.
“I guess you’re right there.” He chuckled. After a few minutes of silence he met her eyes across the table. “I know I said no talking about the case, but I bet you’re dying to discuss it.”
“I am!” She sighed with relief. “Are you willing to be my sounding board?”
“Sure.”
“Chantelle usually is, but she can be a little biased since she knows me so well.”
“Spill it, I’m here to listen.”
“Okay, I think we can assume that it’s most likely that someone who was a student or working at the cooking school on the day Hugo was killed, is responsible for his murder.”
“I could agree with that. It’s possible but it wouldn’t make much sense for an outsider to come in and randomly kill him inside the classroom.”
“And since it appears as if there are only three people that seem to have any connection to him outside of the classes, they are the most likely candidates for suspects.”
“Do any of them stand out to you as the most likely perpetrator?”
“Hm. That’s what makes this so difficult. To be honest, I like all three of the women. Lauren is a very talented and passionate person. Georgina is enthusiastic and fun to be around. Sophia is constantly engaging in charity work and usually has something positive to say. None of these women appear to be murderers, none even seem strong enough to kill someone.”
“With the right weapon, any size person can kill a person.”
“Do you know if they have the murder weapon?” She looked into his eyes across their half-eaten meals and realized how odd
the question was. Here she was with a man who made her heart beat so fast that she might as well have been doing cardio, and their discussion was about weapons and murder.
“I'm not sure. But from what I heard on the news it’s obviously a sharp object of some kind as he was stabbed.”
“I see.” She frowned and pushed her food around on her plate.
“I’m sorry it’s not really dinner conversation. But, isn’t that a clue?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, maybe there would be something to find on the killer’s clothes.”
“I would think so. Did the police take Sophia’s clothes?” Lucy asked.
“No idea.”
“Okay. Do you think Annaliese would mind if I asked her about it?”
“Probably not, she’s probably dying to hear your opinion on all of this.”
“Why is that?”
“You know why.” He smiled some. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, or to hide.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Lucy, Annaliese tells me just about everything and it’s becoming common knowledge at the police station. I know that you’re sort of a psychic investigator.”
“No, I’m not.” Her stomach clenched.
“Oh.” He blinked. “That’s what I was told.”
“It’s not true. Someone is confused.”
“Lucy, like I said, it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Actually, you know, I’m not feeling so well. I think I’m going to go.”
“Lucy, wait.” He reached for her hand. The moment he touched it electricity shot from the tips of his fingers right up through one arm and down through the other. The sensation took her breath away for a moment. “Don’t go.” He held her gaze. “I promise, I won’t say another word about it.”
“Jack, it’s okay, I just don’t like too many people knowing about it. It’s unsettling for me.”
“I understand, but please stay and finish dinner.”
“Maybe another time.” She pulled her hand away gently and stood up from the table. “I’m so sorry, Jack, the truth is that I’m not ready for any of this yet. Here.” She fished some money out of her purse and placed it on the table.
“Please, don’t do that. I can cover dinner.”
“It’s not a date, remember?”
“I can get the waiter to box up your food.”
“No, sorry I’d rather just go. Thanks for the conversation, Jack.”
“Maybe we can do this another time, once things have settled down.”
“I’d like that.” Lucy turned and headed straight for the door. With every step she regretted it. The connection she felt with Jack frightened her enough, but him knowing her secret was even more overwhelming, yet she hated the thought that she might have hurt his feelings. Once she reached the car she had to calm down before she could drive. Her body was in panic mode, not just because of Jack’s revelation, but also because her heart still raced in reaction to his touch. It was madness to think that a man could affect her in such a way, and yet he did. A light knock on her car window made her jump. She looked through the glass into his eyes. Her heartbeat quickened even more. Reluctantly she rolled down the window.
“Lucy, I’m sorry.” He crouched down some so that he could be at eye level with her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jack.”
“I did. I pushed things too fast. I’m sorry about that.” He frowned as he studied her. “No matter what, I’d like to be friends. I want you to know that you can turn to me, if you need someone.”
“Thank you, Jack.” Her cheeks flushed. “I’d like to be friends. I just feel like everything is a bit of a mess.”
“I understand. I think you have a lot on your mind and it’s hard to sort through it all.”
“How can you be so understanding?”
“It’s not hard when it comes to you. I hope you’ll feel the same way about me, and forgive me for speaking out of turn. I never should have brought up what Annaliese told me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. Like you said, I’m just a little overwhelmed with everything.”
“All right, if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
“Thanks Jack.”
Her heart didn’t settle until she pulled into the driveway of her house. It seemed ridiculous for her to even be thinking about Jack when there was so much going on around her, yet she did. She thought about his kindness, his warmth, and most of all his impact on her cardiovascular system. When she stepped into the house she found both cats curled up on the back of the couch. At least that relationship was going smoothly. She crept past them into the bedroom. As she changed into pajamas she thought about how Hugo died. Was he surprised? Was he knocked out by the first blow? Did he fight back? She wished she knew exactly what had happened to him. As she crawled into bed, she recalled the rambling message she left on Jack’s phone. She drifted off to sleep wondering if he deleted it.
Chapter 11
It was too difficult to reach the top shelf. No matter how high she reached, it was too difficult. She put one foot on the bottom shelf to give herself a little boost. She absolutely had to have that can on the top shelf. She didn’t feel like going to get a stool or a stepladder. If she could just reach a little higher it would be in her grasp. Her fingertips brushed along the surface of the can in the same moment that her foot slipped off the bottom shelf. In the space of an instant she knew she would fall, and also felt an incredible splitting pain in her upper back and neck, just before her forehead struck the hard wood of one of the shelves. Darkness.
“No! No!” She bolted upright in bed and grabbed the back of her neck. It burned so badly, but she could feel nothing there. The pain subsided an instant later. Her brain quickly caught up with the reality of what happened. She’d been dreaming. She didn’t fall, she didn’t hit her head. Her heart still raced as she got out of bed to get a drink of water. Her vision wobbled slightly as she made her way into the dark kitchen.
The streetlight outside cast dim illumination into the empty kitchen. She grabbed the counter as her mind cleared. Now she was certain of how Hugo died. He’d been stabbed and then he slipped, and hit his head on the shelf in front of him. Maybe he didn’t die instantly, but he was knocked out, and whatever happened after that he didn’t experience. She shivered as she remembered how real the can felt under her fingertips. He hadn’t been arguing. There was no fight occurring. He had his back to whoever struck him. All of a sudden what she assumed was a crime of passion, a lost temper gone too far, appeared to be something completely different. Someone planned his death, someone waited for the opportunity, and took it when they saw it. Her teeth clenched against the anger that boiled within her. No matter what type of person Hugo was, he didn’t deserve to die, and certainly not like that. He was blissfully unaware, so determined to achieve his goal, and struck down without ever even seeing his killer. Maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to get a definite read on who the killer was. Hugo himself didn’t know, so he couldn’t convey any hints or details to her that would help to solve the case. She was more determined than ever to solve the crime.
Lucy poured herself a glass of water and began to drink it. Mia jumped up on to the counter beside her. She purred as Lucy stroked her hand back across her fur. Mia provided her a good sense of grounding. She carried the cat into the living room and noticed that dawn was just starting to break. She was exhausted from the stress of the dream, but she had to be at the patisserie in about an hour. She flipped on the television to try to keep herself awake and shake off the emotional impact of the dream. However, the news was on, and the top story was Hugo’s death.
“Investigators are still looking for the person responsible for his death, and although they claim to have many leads they have yet to make any arrests. For now, this tragic mystery continues.”
A picture of Hugo flashed up on the screen. Lucy continued to pe
t Mia. As the news shifted to a commercial break Lucy thought about what she and Jack discussed the day before. She still thought that there might have been some kind of evidence on the clothes of the killer.
Sophia was wearing the same clothes when Lucy saw her after she had found Hugo’s body, wasn’t she? It occurred to her that she wasn’t sure about that. Lucy picked up her phone and looked for the picture they took the morning of the class that Chantelle had already texted to her. When she looked at the photograph she noticed the bright blue blouse and she recalled how it had stood out to her because it matched Sophia’s eyes.
Lucy’s mind swam as she recalled the moment she heard Sophia’s scream. She ran into the classroom, and saw Sophia there, with an apron that covered most of her orange shirt. It wasn’t blue. She was certain of that. At some point, she changed her clothes. Why would she change them unless she had something to hide? Her heart pounded. She checked her watch and realized she was running late.
With her mind half on the case and half on macarons she drove to the patisserie. As she was opening alone that morning she didn’t expect there to be another car in the parking lot, however there was. She studied it for a moment. She didn’t recognize it as belonging to anyone she knew. She walked towards the entrance of the patisserie and the door of the car swung open. She heard the click of heels against the pavement, and turned to see Georgina as she walked towards her.
“Good morning, Georgina.”
“Morning.” Georgina smiled. “I’m sorry for being here so early, but I wanted a taste of that coffee. I have to be on set in an hour, and I know you’re not quite open yet, but I’d really love a cup.”
