A Case for the Cookie Baker

by Candace Havens

  “Right. So, you’re thinking it had to be someone tall and strong.”

  I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “You tell me.”

  “That’s one possibility. The lab reports on the clothing just came back. He had flour on his knees, so he must have hit the ground that way, but I’m having trouble with the physics of how he hit the table with that same side.”

  “Or if he’d stumbled and then fell,” I said. “I mean, if he was lower, and then hit, his head may have swung and he hit the steel table that way.”

  My stomach twisted and bile rose in my throat. I put the can of soup I’d been about to heat up, back in the cabinet.

  “The way the bone fragments were jammed in the brain, the two blows overlapped in a few places. Basically, the side of the head was smashed in.”

  Ugh.

  “Can you tell the size of the assailant?”

  “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Did Greg tell you about the guy in the park?”

  Kane cleared his throat. “I’ve been reading the reports.”

  “I was just curious if the killer could be that guy. I don’t know anything about the victim, but I’m going with Lizzie to his funeral tomorrow. I thought, if I knew how tall the killer was—maybe I could keep an eye out.”

  There was silence.

  “Did I lose you?” I asked.

  “I’m going through my notes,” Kane said. “The victim was five eleven—that just leaves too wide of a range to say for certain. Anyone his height or a little under, to a lot taller, could have done it. But they’d need to have good upper arm strength to swing that skillet as hard as they did.”

  “I’ve read about adrenaline and people in stressful situations. Could it be a woman?”

  “I suppose. Like I said, though, I deal in facts and it’s not something I can say conclusively.”

  “I’m looking for a man or woman five six or taller with good upper body strength.”

  Kane chuckled.

  “Hey, we’ve started with less.”

  “True. The police don’t have any leads either. I’m going through the reports now. They are looking into his family’s business and his friends. But they haven’t found anything.”

  “Thanks, Kane. I appreciate you telling me that. It saves me having to break into your office, or my brother’s, to find out what’s going on.”

  “You’re a good detective, Ains. You have an eye for the personality aspect of an investigation. Just do us all a favor and be careful this time. Oh, that reminds me. Are you watching your blood sugar?” Between Kane, my brother, and Jake, it was like having three mother hens.

  “Yes.” I grabbed a piece of cheese from the fridge. I hadn’t eaten much today. “Thanks for calling me back.”

  “Just don’t tell your brother.”

  “No problem.”

  I hung up, and George went nuts outside. I turned on the back light, and then opened the door.

  “George, stop that. Poor Mr. Squirrel has probably had enough.” The squirrels and the woodland animals around here liked to play a game called “Let’s Drive George Crazy.” They were very good at it. My dog loved to play along most of the time. But every once in a while they’d intrude on what he considered his space inside the fence. Then all heck would break loose.

  “George, come here.” I used my stern voice.

  My property backed up to a forest and there were teens out there in the summer hanging out at the lake that was about a mile from my property. There was a worn path through the woods that a lot of them used. Jake had found it when he’d been clearing the underbrush from around his place, which is about a mile in the other direction.

  He was working the night shift this week, so we hadn’t seen each other much.

  George wouldn’t stop barking and there were no woodland animals to be found.

  “George. Now!” I didn’t yell at him often. It hurt his feelings. But he was freaking me out. He backed up, but continued barking. I grabbed the bat that I kept just inside the back door.

  I was a woman who lived in the country alone. More than once, a killer had used those woods to spy on me. And then there was that one time when Jake’s stalker had come around.

  I would never let anyone scare me out of my house, but I did take precautions.

  “I don’t know who is out there,” I yelled, “but my brother, the sheriff, put cameras on the back of my house. I’d suggest moving along. I also don’t know how much longer my dog will stay inside the fence. He’s been known to jump it a few times.”

  My voice was way more powerful than I felt. I tightened my hand on the bat. George moved closer, and then sat on my feet. It was his way of protecting me. I grabbed his collar and backed into the house. He’d stopped barking, so whoever or whatever it was must have been gone.

  “Probably just kids,” I said to George and to myself. After putting the bat down, my hands shook as I locked the back door.

  The pool of blood flashed through my brain.

  Had I seen the killer? Was he back there now stalking my house?

  I shivered.

  “George, bonus for you. You get to sleep in my room tonight.”

  Chapter Eight

  The next afternoon, Lizzie and I pulled up in front a large Baptist church just outside of Buda. The parking lot was full, so I circled around and parked on the street where several others had done the same thing.

  “Your ex must have been very popular,” I said.

  “He was a charmer, and his mother’s favorite,” Lizzie said as she met me at the hood of the car. “Even though they disagreed about everything, he could do no wrong. My guess is that these are mostly her friends. Though, like I said, he was a charming son-of-a-gun. Swept me right off of my feet. I was so under his spell that I didn’t see what was right in front of my face.”

  I crooked my arm in hers and we headed into the church. We found a seat in a middle pew. I liked sitting toward the back so I could keep an eye on people, but I followed her lead.

  The church filled up quickly. A few minutes later, the family filed in, sitting in the first two pews.

  The service was formal and a couple of hymns were sung.

  A man got up to speak. He was handsome in a ruffled kind of way. He shoved his curls out of his eyes and then sighed into the microphone.

  “Sorry. This is hard,” he said. “Mom wanted me to say a few words about my brother. As you all know, he was a great guy. His family, friends, and employees loved him. He had a good heart and had a way of looking out for those in trouble. I think one of the best measures of a man is the reputation he leaves behind.

  “My brother wasn’t perfect, but being loved and missed by so many people here today shows us just what kind of man he was.”

  Another man wailed, across from of us, and then shoved a handkerchief in front of his face.

  Everyone in the church stared at him. Poor guy. Was that his partner, perhaps? It would make sense.

  The brother cleared his throat. “My brother always looked out for me,” he said. “I was a terrible little guy. Mort would say a small demon who had the scream of a she-devil.”

  People laughed.

  “But I learned how to treat people. I’ll never have the patience he did nor the charm. But he taught me a lot about respecting others and myself.” He choked up a bit, and my eyes watered.

  “Mom and I would like to invite you to the house for a reception. All are welcome.” He croaked the last words out and then ran off to sit by his mother.

  A few other friends spoke. All of them said the same thing. He was a great guy. He was fun. And they all had funny anecdotes about him.

  I felt like I knew Morton Gallagher by the time it was all over, and I’d never met the guy.

  The family filed out, but they stopped at our pew.

  “I know you killed my son,” the mother said under her breath to Lizzie. “I’ve already told the police everything. I expect you’ll be arrested soon. W
e all know you never forgave him, even though it was your fault. I can’t believe you had the nerve to show your face here.”

  Lizzie started to stand, but I grabbed her hand. His mother was grieving, but that did not give her the right to attack my friend.

  I stood and faced the woman. “I’m truly sorry for your loss. I can’t begin to understand what you, and your family, are going through. But you should know, ma’am, my friend was with witnesses when your son was killed. She wasn’t there when he died. I beg of you to let her grieve her former husband and best friend—that’s how she described him to me—in peace.”

  You can mess with me, but you don’t mess with my friends.

  The woman was about to open her mouth, but her son ushered her along. People around me were whispering and poor Lizzie’s head was bowed and she pressed tissues to her face.

  I hadn’t meant to upset anyone. I had to do something about this serious case of foot-in-mouth disease I had. I’d just raised my voice to a grieving mother.

  “Lizzie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I put a hand on her shoulder. People around us were still whispering and I’m sure my cheeks had turned red.

  Lizzie lifted her head, but she wasn’t crying.

  She giggled. “Mort would have loved that. He was the only one who could stand up to her. I swear that’s why she loved him so much.”

  I took a deep breath. “My temper got the best of me and I didn’t want people spreading rumors about you.”

  She smiled. “Ainsley, no one has ever taken up for me like that. I’m grateful to you.”

  “About time someone stood up to the old bat,” a man’s voice said from behind me.

  I turned to find the man who had cried out during the service standing there. He was tall and lanky, and wore a very expensive suit.

  He held out a hand. “I’m Jerome. I was Mort’s assistant and his friend,” he whispered that last word.

  I shook his hand. “I’m Ainsley, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I’m guessing you are Lizzie?” he asked my friend.

  She nodded and shook his hand.

  “He talked about you a lot,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you were the platonic love of his life.”

  Lizzie stood. “Oh, are you Jere? He adored you.” She reached her arms out and hugged him across me.

  “Thanks. Best boss and friend I ever had. A bunch of us, his real friends, are getting together later. The Mexican restaurant is just up the road. Would you like to join us?”

  I had a feeling our invitation to the family gathering was no longer valid.

  “Ainsley was sweet enough to bring me and I don’t want to keep her.”

  “It’s okay.” I was still sitting down, and they were so close, I couldn’t quite get up. I awkwardly slid down the pew and freed myself. “I’m sure you’d love to meet his friends.”

  “Are you sure?” She turned to face me.

  I nodded. My phone buzzed. It was Shannon.

  “I’ll meet you outside. I need to take this.”

  I headed out into the fresh air. It was hot, but the church had been freezing. It would take a minute for me to defrost.

  “Tell me everything,” Shannon said.

  I laughed. “The funeral just ended,” I whispered. There were still people milling around.

  “Any suspects yet?”

  “Nope. Everyone loves him. Or loved him. We met his assistant and we’re going to a gathering to meet more of his friends. Other than the mother was nasty to poor Lizzie in front of everyone, I don’t have anything to report.”

  “Okay, but I want a full rundown tonight. Oh, and Jasmine wants to know if we can reschedule girls’ night for Friday, since the last one was—uh—interrupted.”

  That was one way of putting it. “Sure. Jake’s on nights. I’ll check with Lizzie and get back to you.”

  I was about to go back inside, when a woman stopped me. She was very sophisticated in a green dress, and black heels. She reminded me of Oprah in a way.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I was curious if the woman sitting with you was Elizabeth Hernandez.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh, may I ask who you are?”

  She smiled, as if to put me at ease about any stranger danger. “I apologize, I should have introduced myself. And good for you for being protective of your friend. I’m Latonda Price, the estate lawyer for Mr. Gallagher. I needed to speak with her about a private matter considering the deceased.”

  She was so formal, I believed her.

  “Yes, that’s Lizzie.”

  Lizzie and Jere walked out of the vestibule.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  I followed her over.

  “Oh, good. You’re both here. Elizabeth Hernandez and Jerome Clark, correct?”

  “Yes,” Jere said warily.

  The lawyer explained who she was. “I realize this is terrible timing and that you are grieving, but I have instructions to speak with you before I have any dealings with the family. They’ve been asking about his will, and I’d appreciate if we could speak now. At least, before you attend the reception.”

  Jere and Lizzie stared at one another and then back at the lawyer.

  “I—I don’t think I’m invited to the reception,” Lizzie said carefully.

  “Me either,” said Jere. “I’ll be lucky if I have a job on Monday. Mrs. Gallagher never liked me. Mainly because I’d screen her calls for Mort.”

  “I see. Would it be possible for you to come to the office? I promise it will only take a half hour or so. Mr. Gallagher made provisions for you both in his will.”

  They stared at each other again, and then back at her. “Provisions?” Jere asked.

  “Yes. I’ll need you to sign some papers and we’ll need a witness.” She glanced at me.

  “What time is the gathering?” Lizzie asked Jere.

  “Not for a couple of hours. We have time.”

  The woman handed business cards to Lizzie and Jere.

  “If you could meet me there in ten minutes, we’ll go through everything. Again, a half hour to forty-five minutes at the most.”

  *

  “I can’t imagine what this is all about,” Lizzie said, as we pulled up in front of a new office building. “Everything should go to his family. Maybe there’s something from his house he wanted me to have. He and I both love art. This day is weird. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You are such a blessing Ainsley. None of this feels real. I can’t explain it.” She wrung her hands again and her voice shook when she spoke.

  “I get it. I promise and I will always be here for you.”

  The office was on the third floor, and it was grand, as in sparkling new and almost space-age-looking the way the offices were set up.

  The receptionist started to speak, but the lawyer motioned for us to follow her.

  Jere and Lizzie took the chairs in front of her desk, and I sat on a leather sofa behind them.

  “As I said, Mr. Gallagher insisted I speak with you as soon as possible after his death. I would have contacted you sooner, but I was in Dallas on another case.”

  “It’s okay,” Lizzie said.

  “I’m dying to know what this all about,” Jere said.

  So was I, though I would never admit it.

  “Should I leave for this part?” I asked.

  Lizzie shook her head. “Please stay. I’m worried I’m going to miss something,” she said. “I do that at the doctor, like I know I should be paying attention, but then I miss the most important part.”

  “I got you,” I said. “Jere, is that okay with you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m the same as Lizzie. Just pay attention for us.”

  The lawyer laughed. “I hope I’m not that boring.” She lifted a huge pile of papers onto the desk.

  “This paperwork looks scary, but it’s straightforward,” the attorney continued.

  “What is that?” Jere
asked.

  “Mr. Gallagher has given you equal shares of the company. Between the two of you, you’ll have fifty-one percent ownership. And he’s made provisions for you both to sit on the board of directors.”

  “What?” Lizzie’s voice was strangled. “I don’t want anything to do with those people.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jere said.

  “May I speak frankly?” The lawyer leaned forward and put her elbows on her desk.

  “Yes,” Jere said.

  “I had several long conversations with Mr. Gallagher about his wishes. He trusted you two with the future of the company. He did not expect you to work there full-time, just when the board of directors meet. He feared his brother, who gets fifty percent of the shares, would not be able to stand up to their mother, who he believed, did not always have the best interests of the company or its employees in mind when making financial decisions.

  “Ms. Hernandez, he asked that you be reminded about your idea to take the company organic seven years ago and your plan for how they could do that by subsidizing the farmers. He said it’s the main reason the company jumped ahead of competitors years ago.

  “And, Mr. Clark, he told me you’ve been a faithful friend, and that he had tried to move you into management several times, but you refused. He said to trust yourself and your ideas, as they are always thoughtful and excellent.”

  Jere sniffled.

  “I believe he says about the same in your letters.” She handed them each an envelope. “He trusted the two of you would work together to move the company forward. In fact, he stated in the documents to his family, that there were no two people he trusted more.”

  Lizzie glanced down at her hands. I couldn’t see her face, but I grabbed two small packages of tissues from my purse, and handed one to each of them.

  I didn’t know his family but I had a feeling they were not going to be happy when they found out about all of this, especially his mother.

  “Darn him,” Lizzie croaked, and then she laughed, somewhat hysterically.

  Then Jere started laughing. They howled and held on to each other.

  The attorney glanced at me and I shrugged my shoulders. Then, we both smiled.