Perjury Proof

by Jessica Beck

  I heard some whispering, but there was really nothing else I could do. Taking a deep breath, I started back outside.

  The chief of police must have been waiting for my light to start moving, because he suddenly called out, “Fine. We’ll do it your way. Suzanne, you need to stay exactly where you are. I’m coming around to get you.” Then he must have added to Grace, “As for you, you need to stay put, too.”

  Evidently my friend had pled my case with the police chief about providing me with an easier way out. I was happy I didn’t have to go through that tangled mess again.

  In less than a minute, I heard an outer door open, and then there were footsteps coming in my direction.

  They passed right by me, though. “Chief, I’m in here.”

  “Where is here?” he asked, his voice muffled.

  I reached out and knocked on the wall in front of me. “Does that help?”

  One of the wall sections beside me moved after a few moments from what must have been a hard push. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said when he shined his light into my eyes.

  “Hey, would you mind lowering that thing? You are blinding me with it.”

  “That’s what you get for sneaking around crime scenes in the middle of the night,” he said, clearly trying to keep the chuckle out of his voice.

  “It’s hardly the middle of the night,” I protested, since everything else he’d said had been true.

  “It is for you,” he countered.

  “Okay, I’m guilty on all counts. Where exactly did I end up?” I asked as I followed him out of the coffin-sized space.

  “It’s really pretty cool. No wonder we missed it before. Between the camouflage outside and the way it’s hidden in here, I’m amazed anyone’s seen it for years.”

  “That’s the thing, though,” I said as I studied the “door” he’d just pushed open. It was actually a large bookcase hinged on one side. As the chief demonstrated, it moved back and forth with a little effort on his part. I could see that when it was closed, it would be nearly impossible to tell that it concealed a door to the outside. “Someone knew about it, and recently. There’s a smudge on the side window of the door about the height of the knob, and for something that looked pretty rusty when I first saw it, it appeared to me that someone had sprayed something on it recently to loosen it up.”

  “How did you even find it in the first place?” he asked, clearly admiring my discovery a bit.

  “I got lucky,” I admitted. “I would have never seen it in the light of day, but when my flashlight beam caught a reflection as Grace and I were chasing someone around the building, I knew that something was back there.”

  The police chief had been leading me out to the back door of the shop when he stopped suddenly in his tracks. “What did you just say?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t put too much into it,” I said. “It could have been a big dog or even a cat,” I added, realizing how ridiculous it must have sounded. “You know how shadows are sometimes. They can be much bigger than what is producing them.”

  “Even if that’s true, it would be hard to mistake an animal for a man,” he said.

  “Or a woman,” I corrected him. It wasn’t that I was taking some kind of stand for women’s rights, though who could possibly object to that? If I’d learned anything over the years, it was that murder was an equal-opportunity crime.

  “Or a woman,” he agreed. “So, which was it?”

  “Someone was out there,” I said, realizing in retrospect that it was true. There was no way it could have been an animal unless the shadow caster had been walking around on two legs instead of the usual four, no matter what tricks the image might have been playing on us.

  “And you two took off after them, on your own and without backup of any kind,” he said, scolding me as he continued to escort me to the door. “Don’t either one of you have any more sense than that, Suzanne?”

  “You’d think so, but no, probably not,” I said.

  “I’m going to have to post someone inside the shop after all. One of my people isn’t going to be getting any sleep tonight,” he said as he led me out front. “I know just who the lucky winner is, too. Darby is going to be the perfect night watchman.”

  Darby Jones was one of Chief Grant’s deputies, and I knew that he was still in the doghouse for a few things that had happened lately. I wanted to defend him, but something told me that I should stay out of police business, so for a complete change of pace, I kept my mouth shut.

  Once we were back outside, Grace asked, “What took you so long?”

  “There was a hidden doorway through a bookcase in the hallway,” I blurted out.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you won’t tell anyone else that, will you?” the chief of police asked sarcastically.

  “Who else would I tell? Grace knows, Jake is out of town, and you were right there with me when the two of us figured it out,” I said.

  “Suzanne, knowing you as I do, the news will probably be spread all over town before I get back to my office,” he said.

  “I resent that remark,” I said, not matching his joking tone of voice. I took my word seriously, and it was important that he knew that.

  The chief pretended to mishear me. “I’m sorry, did you say that you resembled that remark?”

  I looked in the light to see him smiling slightly and suddenly realized that I’d probably overreacted, especially given the circumstances. The man was having a hard time of it, both professionally and personally, and I certainly didn’t need to add any to his troubles. “Maybe I should have,” I said. “Okay, we’ll both keep it quiet. We promise.”

  “Good. I’d appreciate that.” The police chief locked the door as soon as we were back outside, made a quick call on his radio, and then he turned to Grace. “That pot pie was delicious. I’m just sorry I missed our dinner together.”

  It was a real olive branch, and I hoped that Grace didn’t chide him for missing their planned shared meal. To my delight, if she had any misgivings at the moment, she was keeping them to herself. “It’s fine. After all, we’re doing it tomorrow night, right?”

  “Right,” he agreed before adding, “Unless there’s a break in the case.”

  “Of course. That goes without saying,” Grace said before turning to me. “Suzanne, are you ready to go?”

  What I really wanted was to go back inside that building, but that was clearly off the table now. “I’m ready if you are.” I turned back to the chief before returning to my Jeep. “Good night, Chief. It was nice seeing you.”

  “Good night,” he said, watching us both as we got in and drove away.

  “That went well, wouldn’t you say?” Grace asked as she glanced back over her shoulder at her boyfriend, maybe once and future, at any rate.

  “Well, I didn’t get to snoop around inside, and we got caught flatfooted, so no, I wouldn’t say that it was particularly successful as far as an investigation is concerned,” I said, a little miffed that we’d been caught so easily.

  “Suzanne, you’re missing the point here,” Grace said.

  “What, that you and Stephen are getting along better while you’re breaking up than you ever did while you were dating?” I realized how snippy I must have sounded, and I felt instantly bad about it. “Strike that. I’m happy you two are at least communicating these days.”

  “I am too, but that’s not what I meant,” Grace explained. “I’ve got a hunch we just found out how the killer got into the pie shop without being seen. Just think. That means that there’s a good chance that Leanne didn’t do it! After all, with a secret way in and out of the building, anyone could have poisoned Maggie’s meds.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted.

  “Even if it makes our sleuthing a lot harder now, at least it should take some of the heat off of Leanne,” she said.

 
“Probably. Blast it all, it just gets more and more complicated by the minute, doesn’t it?” I asked as I pulled into Grace’s driveway.

  “Yes, but if we’re going down, at least we’re going to go down swinging,” Grace answered as she got out, lingering a few moments before closing her door. “The thing is, whoever used that secret door now knows that we’re onto them. If they thought they were being clever about it, they’re going to figure out that we were too smart for them, and that makes us a real threat to them getting away with murder.”

  “Why does that not make me feel better right before going to sleep in a cottage all by myself?” I asked her with a smile.

  “If you’d like, you can bunk with me here tonight,” she said.

  I considered taking her up on her offer, but my hours were so wildly different from hers that she’d be sitting around the place for hours while I slept. All in all, it wouldn’t be much of a sleepover. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’ll just double-deadbolt everything when I get back to the cottage, and I should be fine.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure, but if you change your mind, remember, I’m just down the road.”

  “I’m counting on it,” I said with a grin.

  After she closed the Jeep door, I drove the rest of the way home. Jake had put a motion-sensitive light near the front porch for just such nights as tonight, but it had been on the fritz lately and didn’t work all of the time. To my embarrassment, though no one else was there to see, I shut off the Jeep’s engine, grabbed my keys, and raced up the steps to my front door.

  As I did so, I slipped on the top step, banging my shin in the process. Scrambling inside, I was laughing about my own stupidity as I locked myself securely inside my own little fort.

  I was going to have a nice bruise tomorrow, and possibly a limp as well to go along with a few scratches from the bushes I’d recently penetrated.

  Oh well. It was the least I deserved for being so jumpy.

  Then again, Grace had been right about one thing.

  If word got out about our discovery of the secret door, and I was certain that it would somehow manage to before dawn, a killer would know that we were hot on their trail.

  And that might be a very bad thing for us indeed.

  Then again, it might mean that whoever had poisoned Maggie Moore might make a slip of their own, and if they did, Grace and I would be there to catch them red-handed.

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, Jake. It’s me. No need to call me back. I’m just heading off to bed, and I thought I’d take a chance and call you. Sleep well, and I’ll talk to you later. I love you. Bye.” Even though we hadn’t had a chance to chat before bed, I felt better just hearing his voice on his answering message, and leaving him something to remind him of how much I cared about him was just an added bonus.

  I couldn’t sleep in our bed, and after a solid forty-five minutes, I gave up, took my pillow and blanket out to the couch, and put on a YouTube channel that offered the background noise of rain pounding down on a tent. I wasn’t a very big fan of camping, but there was something about that noise that soothed me, and before I knew it, I somehow managed to nod off.

  I heard something, a sound of some sort, coming from the other room, and for a second, in my grogginess I thought it might be a smoke detector, but once I managed to come fully awake, I realized it was just the alarm I always set on my cell phone to make sure that I would wake up in time to make the donuts yet again. I hadn’t really gotten enough sleep, but it was going to have to do. Time—and donuts—waited for no woman.

  The air was finally starting to chill some at night as summer slowly lost its annual battle with autumn, and I grabbed a light sweater on the way out to ward off the chill, though I knew it would be hot enough later in the day. I got into the Jeep and drove the short distance to Donut Hearts, parking away from the door and making my way in. As I locked the door of the donut shop behind me, I went through my regular routine, flipping on the coffee pot and deep fryer as well as a few lights, but by no means all of them. I usually didn’t mind working the first few hours by myself in silence, but with Emma gone, I decided I needed some music, so I tuned in to an oldies station. Though I had no idea where the station originated from, I was just happy that I was close enough to pick up its signal. Apparently it was an ABBA morning at the station, and I found myself working along with their greatest hits, something that was just fine with me. One of the real benefits of working by myself was being able to belt out the words along with the group. Alone, I had no qualms or hesitations about joining right in, even at times at the top of my lungs when I actually remembered the right words.

  After the cake donuts were finished and the yeast dough was going through its first resting stage, I grabbed some coffee and headed outside, happily humming along with some of the music I’d just been listening to.

  To my surprise though, when I locked the door, effectively blocking my way back in, I heard a man’s voice coming from just behind me.

  “Don’t have any of that to spare, do you?” Darby Jones asked me sheepishly as he looked at my coffee cup.

  “You scared the fool out of me,” I said, something my grandmother used to say all of the time. “What are you doing sneaking around town in the middle of the night, Darby?”

  “I’ve got sentry duty at the pie shop,” he said with a frown. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been guarding it all night.”

  “Except for right now, you mean,” I reminded him.

  “Rick is taking the duty for a half hour so I can get something to eat. The only problem is that nothing’s open this time of morning. I don’t suppose you could let me buy some coffee from you before you are officially open, could you?”

  The poor man looked so forlorn that I didn’t have the heart to refuse him, not that I would have, anyway. “Come on in.”

  “I hate taking you away from your break,” he said.

  “You know about my schedule?” I asked, just a little bit creeped out that the cop would know when I took my breaks.

  “Oh, yes. Usually you and Emma are out here together. I can see you from the top window of town hall if I look out the right window.”

  “What are you doing there so late at night?” I asked him, but then I realized that I already knew the answer. “You’ve been working more than your share of nights lately, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Somebody’s got to do it.”

  “But not every shift,” I said. I grabbed a mug and filled it up, then said, “Excuse me for one second.” Ducking into the kitchen, I put a fritter and a lemon-filled donut on a plate, two of Darby’s favorites. As I slipped them in front of him, I said, “Sorry, but the bear claws aren’t ready yet.”

  “I’m not about to be a choosy beggar. What do I owe you for these?”

  “They’re on the house, and so is the coffee.”

  He clouded over for a moment. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. The chief has made himself pretty clear about us accepting anything free of charge from local merchants. A five should cover it, shouldn’t it?”

  “With change left over,” I said, knowing better than to argue with him about it. Chief Grant was the one in the position where he made the rules, and his people would do well to follow them. I for one wasn’t about to try to get them to do otherwise. I had a tenuous enough relationship with the man these days without adding to it.

  “Keep it,” he said as he took a long sip of coffee. “That’s delightful. What’s your secret?”

  “Serve it hot, plain, and in abundance,” I said with a grin. “Emma is usually in charge of our coffee selections, but I have pretty pedestrian tastes myself.”

  “I’m with you,” Darby said, and then he took a bite of his lemon donut. “That’s amazing. I love the filling.”

  “It’s the best lemon curd I can find,” I said. “I make it mysel
f when I have the time, but lately I’ve had my hands full just running the place alone.”

  “Emma’s coming back though someday, right?”

  “That’s the plan,” I said. “Is the chief keeping you in his own personal doghouse because of what happened with Cassandra Lane?”

  “My, this coffee is just what the doctor ordered,” Darby said, clearly avoiding the question. I couldn’t blame him. I knew there were times when I just wished everyone would leave me alone and let me enjoy my day, so why should the police officer be any different?

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said, taking another sip myself, dropping the subject altogether.

  “Aren’t you having a donut, too? I surely hate to eat alone.”

  “If I kept everyone company here while they ate, I wouldn’t be able to fit through the front door,” I said.

  “Come on. One isn’t going to hurt anything,” he said with a wicked grin.

  “Why not?” I asked. I grabbed a lemon-filled one for myself and rejoined him. Before I walked out of the kitchen though, I asked him, “Would you like another while I’m back here? You’re entitled to at least one more.”

  “I’d love to, but I’d better not,” he said. “I’ve got to be able to walk back to the pie shop, so I’d better stop while I still can.”

  “I understand,” I said, taking a healthy bite of the donut. He was right. This lemon filling might just be better than the curd I normally made myself. If that was the case, I wasn’t going to go to the trouble of making it anymore. I liked to offer the best ingredients I could, whether they came from my kitchen or someone else’s. “Wow, this is so good it should almost be illegal.”

  “You can keep trying to entice me, but I’m not eating any more,” Darby answered with a sigh. After finishing his treats and downing his coffee, he asked, “Could I get one of these to go, and maybe an old-fashioned donut, too?”

  “Still feeling a little peckish?” I asked him as I did as he requested.