When I didn’t answer right away, the detective looked up from his notepad. He must have seen the surprise on my face.
“There was a glob of pink frosting left on the plate. We bagged it for evidence.”
“Oh,” I said. “Actually, it was pink and white frosting. And Margaret asked me to do it.”
Detective Carlson nodded. “So Margaret personally told you to make her a diet cake with pink and white icing?”
“Well, no. Not personally told me,” I said. “Margaret sent me an email yesterday and asked me to decorate it with lots of pink and white fluffy icing.”
Detective Carlson’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you still have the email?”
I nodded. “Well, yeah. I’m sure it’s in my mailbox if it hasn’t been deleted. I don’t work for the company anymore. Do you want it?”
“Yes. Before you leave tonight, I need you to print it off and give it to me or another officer.”
“Of course.” I knew I should add to my statement about the frosting. I just wasn’t sure what to say. “But there was—I mean, something didn’t seem…” I trailed off and Blake squeezed my shoulder.
For the first time, Detective Carlson’s gray eyes met mine. “Something what? Something seemed off about the cake?”
I nodded. “Yeah. The frosting really. I noticed it when I was talking with Margaret. Something was wrong with the frosting. It didn’t look right. It looked all powdery. Like the consistency had changed.”
Detective Carlson stared at me so long, I couldn’t help but squirm. Which I knew was a bad sign. Finally the detective looked back down at his notes. “You work with a Marc Mallard, correct?”
I blinked in surprise at the sudden change of topic. “Yes, I do.”
“Did you ever work exclusively for him?”
I shook my head. “No. I worked for Margaret.”
“Did you speak to Mr. Mallard outside of work?”
I scoffed. “No. I don’t even really—I mean, he’s not someone I’d hang around.”
Detective Carlson glanced down at his notes again. “And what about a Tanya Clover? Do you know Tanya Clover, Miss Adkins?”
I frowned and barely held back a wince when Blake’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “No. I can’t say I do. But I only worked here for two weeks. I’m better with faces than names.”
Detective Carlson gave me a tight smile. “I’ve been informed by the owners of the company that Tanya Clover hasn’t worked here for almost a month. I doubt you would have seen her at Staley & Thomas.”
“Okay,” I said.
“So do you know Tanya Clover?” Detective Carlson asked again.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Her name doesn’t sound familiar.”
“I know Tanya Clover,” Blake said.
Detective Carlson frowned and waved his pen back and forth between Blake and me. “And are you and Miss Adkins in a relationship?”
I gasped. “No! I just met Mr. Wellington tonight. I don’t even know him that well.”
Detective Carlson turned to Blake. “But you remember Tanya Clover from when she worked here?”
Blake nodded solemnly. “Yes. And, yes, I also remember the last thing she said before she walked out the door.”
“What?” I practically cried. “What did she say? I’m so confused about everything.”
Blake squeezed my shoulder gently again. “She basically threatened to find a way to kill Margaret.”
“There you go!” I cried. “There’s your murder suspect. Her and Marc Mallard. He’s been running around here threatening Margaret and Linda Sellars all night. Oh, and he threatened Blake.”
Blake nodded. “That’s right. Marc had a bone to pick with Margaret.”
“Did you put Marc down on your list of suspects?” I asked.
Detective Carlson ignored my question. “So, Miss Adkins, you’re telling me you’ve never been in contact with Tanya Clover or Marc Mallard outside of the work environment?”
“Is there a reason you’re asking my granddaughter these questions?” Nan asked sharply.
Detective Carlson stared at Nan coldly. “I was informed you were in the workroom performing CPR on the deceased. Are you a nurse or doctor? Or did you just decide to enter the room and perform CPR on the body?”
Nan’s nostrils flared. “I’m retired now. But I’ve been in the medical field longer than you’ve been alive.”
Detective Carlson’s eyes narrowed at Nan’s jab. “So you might be able to recognize foul play when you see it?”
Nan shrugged but didn’t say anything.
Tears filled my eyes. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”
Detective Carlson gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just trying to get a clear picture of what went on here tonight. Get an idea of why someone would want to murder Margaret Eldemire.”
I gasped. “Murder? What makes you think she was murdered? She just fell.”
“Who put the cake in the workroom tonight?” Detective Carlson asked, ignoring my outburst.
Once again I was frustrated by the sudden change in topic. “I did. Well, I mean I took it to the workroom and Margaret moved some desserts around so there would be room for her cake.”
“Besides yourself, who else had access to the cake before Margaret ate it? Do you know?”
I shrugged. “I guess anyone. Anyone who’d been in the workroom, at least.”
Detective Carlson flipped his notepad closed. “Who knew you brought the cake tonight besides Margaret? Anyone else?”
“I don’t know,” I said angrily. “Margaret put my name down on the sign-up sheet last week stating I would bake her a special cake.”
Detective Carlson didn’t say anything for a full twenty seconds…he just looked from me to Blake to Nan to back at me. “That’s all the questions I have now, Miss Adkins. If I need you for further questioning, I’ll have you come down to the station.”
My pulse kicked up a notch and sweat popped out all over my body. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Detective Carlson had just informed me I was a murder suspect.
Chapter 5
Nan was texting on her phone the next morning when she shuffled into the kitchen in a pair of elf pajamas. I knew better than to carry on a full conversation with her in the mornings until she had a cup of coffee.
“Okay.” Nan laid her phone on the counter and took her first gulp of hot coffee. “I have just agreed that you and I will meet up tonight around nine with Blake and his grandfather for drinks at O’Malley’s.”
“What? No! I have nothing in common with Blake. I don’t even really like him.”
Nan snorted. “Liar.”
“I don’t feel right partying when Margaret just died.”
Nan rolled her eyes. “You didn’t know the woman that well. What’s your next excuse?”
I sighed. I knew there would be no way around the ridiculous hook up. “Fine, I’ll go. But first I need to stop by Tanya Clover’s place. See if she can give me some insight into any of this.”
Nan frowned then took another sip of her coffee. “Do you think that’s wise? Didn’t Blake say last night that she threatened Margaret’s life?”
“I think it’s wise because that detective made it sound like I’m a suspect. Like either I was in cahoots with this Tanya Clover woman or Marc Mallard.”
“I should probably go with you,” Nan said.
“No!”
Nan looked at me sharply. She wasn’t used to me telling her no, and she obviously didn’t like it.
“I can do this on my own,” I said. “I won’t be gone that long. I’ll call Tanya and see if I can stop by.”
Nan sighed. “Fine. But this morning we find you something decent to wear tonight. Obviously Blake is into you if he’s willing to overlook your funeral dress last night and still date you tonight.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Nan grinned and poured herself another cup of coffee. She opened the cupboard a
nd pulled down a bottle of Irish cream. “Something tells me I’ll need this after I see your dismal wardrobe.”
I said nothing as we shuffled off to my bedroom. Mainly because I knew Nan was right.
It only took five minutes to lay all my clothes out, but it took another hour before Nan finally picked an outfit. I had no idea I could mix and match my clothes so many different ways.
Relieved I could finally get my day started, I decided not to call Tanya. I thought taking her by surprise would work best for me. I Googled her address and jumped in the shower.
By the time I drove through Piper Springs, it was almost eleven. Piper Springs isn’t all that big when you compare it to Topeka, Kansas City, or Olathe. We’re just a medium-sized town of about twenty-five thousand people situated off Hwy 73. I’ve lived here since Nan took me in. It’s a great place to grow up…parades on major holidays, enough community entertainment for kids and adults, and even though it has a small-town feel, it’s still big enough you could go days without recognizing someone.
I slowed down to a snail’s pace to check out the numbers on the mailboxes. When I found the right address, I pulled into the driveway and shut off my car. Tanya’s place was a modest two-story wooden house with a wide front porch big enough for a porch swing, rocking chair, and side table. A big inflatable Santa was staked in her front yard.
By the time I hit the porch stairs, the front door opened. Leaning casually against the door jamb, a middle-aged woman with straight, copper hair and matching glasses stared me down. “If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”
“No, ma’am. I came to talk with you about Margaret Eldemire.”
Tanya scowled. “You’re too late. The police just left.”
My brow furrowed. “Too late?”
She pushed herself off the door jamb. “Yeah. Aren’t you with the police?”
“No. My name is Amanda Adkins, and I worked for two weeks as Margaret’s administrative assistant while her regular girl was away.” I watched Tanya’s face for any trace of guilt. Not that I really thought she had somehow sneaked into the party and killed Margaret, but since I was running on fear of being arrested, I would accept any theory as to how Tanya could have killed Margaret.
Tanya scowled. “I’ve already spoken with the police. I don’t have to talk with you.”
She moved to slam the door in my face, so I lurched forward and shoved my foot in the doorframe. “Please. I’ll only take a minute of your time.”
Tanya hesitated a moment longer before she pushed her door open. “Come in. But only for a few minutes.”
“Thank you!”
Tanya held up the coffee cup in her hand. “I have some Sugar Plum Spiced Tea on the stove for the holidays. Would you like a cup?”
“That would be great.”
I followed her through her front room and around the back of the house to the kitchen. “I love your wooden floors. Are they original or did you recently put them in?”
“I put the hardwood in about two years ago. They’re made to look old and authentic.”
I nodded. “You succeeded.”
Tanya gave a small laugh and motioned for me to sit down on a barstool. She reached inside a cupboard, pulled out a Christmas mug, and poured me what was left in the kettle.
I blew on the tea, and a pleasant smell of cinnamon and clove assailed me…along with a slight hint of sweet fruit. “I love this smell.”
“It’s my favorite around the holidays.” Tanya leaned against the counter, mug still warming her hands. “Now, what can I do for you, Miss Adkins?”
I took a tentative sip then set the mug down. “I know you said you already spoke with the police, but I wanted to ask you a couple of my own questions.”
“Why?”
I bit my lip and looked away. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her. I decided to play it semi-straight. “I made the cake that the police think may have somehow killed Margaret.”
Tanya frowned. “Then why are they asking me questions? The detective who came here this morning didn’t mention your name. He basically made it sound like I somehow killed Margaret.”
Good. Then maybe I’m worrying for nothing.
I shrugged and took another sip of my tea. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t mention me or what exactly he asked you…but I will tell you your name came up last night in connection with me.”
“How so? We don’t even know each other.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “I know, right? But your name must have been brought up last night from someone at the party. I think Detective Carlson believes somehow you or Marc Mallard convinced me to sabotage the cake and kill Margaret.”
Tanya snorted. “If I wanted to take out Margaret, I wouldn’t hire someone else to do it. I’d do it myself.”
Oh, like that’s not crazy in any way.
“I know you don’t know me,” Tanya said, “but take it from me, Margaret wasn’t the person she seemed to be. I had to learn it the hard way. It cost me my job.”
“What happened?”
Tanya sighed and slammed her mug down on the counter. “She stabbed me in the back. I think she wanted my job all along and she finally came up with a way to get it. So if you really must know, when I think of getting revenge on Margaret, I think of stabbing her in the back like she did me.”
“You lost your job because of Margaret?”
“Yes. I was called into Patrick Staley’s office last month, and he said he had proof that I had sought a job with our competition, Acme Advertising. I told him it wasn’t true. Acme Advertising had contacted me out of the blue with a query letter and informed me they had a job opening, but I figured they sent them out to hundreds of people.”
I nodded. “As a temp worker, I get a ton of those emails.”
“A lot of us around the office did, too. Acme Advertising was constantly fishing to see if anyone from our office would leave. I specifically remember I talked about getting the email in the workroom one day to a bunch of other workers. I think about ten people admitted they had received an email from Acme Advertising that day, too.”
“So you didn’t really think anything about the email when you received it?”
“No. But then Patrick showed me an email that I supposedly wrote back to them. It sounded like I had jumped ship at Staley & Thomas and would join Acme Advertising by Christmastime.”
“Only you weren’t?”
Tanya gave a bitter laugh. “No. I had no idea this had even gone on.”
“Was it legitimate? I mean, did you follow up with PR from Acme Advertising and see if there really was an opening and if you had been in the running?”
“Not until recently. I was so stunned by what had happened.”
“Was there ever a position open?” I asked.
Tanya’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes. The query letter they sent me was legitimate. I just never wrote them back. But someone did. Someone pretending to be me.”
I let out a little whistle. “That’s pretty elaborate. But why suspect Margaret?”
Without a word, Tanya sprang up from her chair and rummaged around in a drawer. She lifted a notecard out and flung it on the counter in front of me. “Because when I went back to clear out my office after getting fired, this was on my desk.”
I gingerly picked up the notecard and lifted the flap. The front of the card simply had confetti on it, but inside in block lettering was written, “I hear congratulations are in order. M.E.”
I frowned. “This is your proof? Someone prints congratulations and then signs the letters ‘M’ and ‘E’ and you automatically think it was Margaret? I mean, I guess I can see how you would think it was Margaret. But I can also see how someone planted it there on your desk in hopes you would think it was Margaret.”
Tanya snorted. “Or it was Margaret wanting me to think it was someone else…or, or, or. I don’t care how you spin it, I will always think it was Margaret. And I can’t say I’m sorry she’s dead. I gave the de
tective my alibi as to where I was last night, so I’m not worried.”
I worked my lip between my teeth. “And where were you last night?”
“Out drinking Christmas cocktails with friends. I have three other people plus a bartender and customers who will vouch for me. So you see, I have nothing to worry about.”
Unless you hired someone to do your dirty work.
But something else bothered me. If Margaret didn’t send Patrick Staley the fake email, then who did? And how could I go about finding that out?
Chapter 6
“I was about to call you and see when you were due home,” Nan said snippily.
I closed the front door to our condo and flung my coat up on a peg. My eyes cut to Detective Carlson. He stood ramrod straight next to our sofa.
“Seems Detective Carlson,” Nan went on, “and a few of his officers decided to stop by this afternoon without an invitation.”
I groaned. I knew that voice, and Nan was good and mad. “Detective Carlson, what can I do for you?”
“I have a few more follow-up questions for you, Miss Adkins. The good thing about small towns is that rarely are the labs in constant demand like in the bigger cities. That being said, the ingredients in your frosting came back a couple hours ago. Took me a little bit longer before I could come straight here. See, I needed to get this little search warrant signed.”
My heart dropped at the mention of a search warrant. My eyes cut to Nan’s. I could tell she was just as worried. Detective Carlson shoved the paper in my shaking hands, made a motion to the two other policemen, and they all made a beeline for the kitchen.
“Now wait just a second,” Nan said. “You tell me what you—”
Detective Carlson whirled around on Nan. “I don’t have to tell you anything. I have a search warrant. I’m free to get what I need.”
“What was in the frosting?” I asked.
I actually had to clear my throat twice just to talk over the lump that had formed. This made absolutely no sense.
“I’m pretty sure you know the white and pink powdery texture on top was bromadiolone,” Detective Carlson said.
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