Tastes Like Murder (Cookies & Chance Mysteries Book 1)

by Catherine Bruns

  The bells over the door chimed, and we watched her depart, shoulders hunched forward as the rain continued to cascade around her retreating figure.

  There was a lump in my throat. "I feel so sorry for her."

  "I know." Josie stared out the window. "She's such a sweet thing. We should have guessed about Amanda being adopted. She was nothing like Kate."

  "Uh-huh." I was barely listening.

  She frowned. "You've got something brewing. Out with it."

  I tapped the card in my hand. "If we could find proof Amanda ate or drank something else besides the cookies, it may clear me and the shop. Maybe we could even find the killer, too." Excited, I opened the cash register and removed the drawer.

  "What are you doing?"

  I lifted out another business card. "Brian's card. I'm going to call and tell him about Kate's visit and ask if they might have found the container the smoothie was in."

  "He doesn't have to tell you anything, you know." Josie threw Kate's Styrofoam cup in the trash.

  I gave her a saucy smile. "I think he will, though."

  Josie grinned in return. "Oh, do you, now? Sal, fess up. You like him."

  "Don't be silly. I just met him."

  "Liar, liar." She stuck her tongue out at me in a childish manner and walked into the back room.

  I sat back down at the table and entered his number into my phone. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach while I waited.

  Brian answered on the second ring. "Officer Jenkins speaking."

  Heat crept up my neck. "Hi, Officer, er, Brian. This is Sally Muccio."

  There was a brief silence on the other end, and then Brian's voice oozed forth with warmth. "Hello, Sally. I was just thinking about you."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Our steady stream of curious customers had finally ceased for the day, along with the rain outside. Fog settled in as the sun began its rapid descent in the sky. I redirected my gaze from the window and tried to concentrate on calculating today's sales receipts. It had been a long afternoon, and we didn't have much to show for it.

  Josie was sweeping the vinyl floor around me. She leaned on the broom and glanced over my shoulder. "Please tell me my eyes are playing tricks on me."

  I sighed and shook my head. "I wish."

  "That's all we did today?"

  "Maybe tomorrow will be better." I pressed my fingers against my temples in a vain attempt to relieve my stress.

  "I sure as hell hope so." Josie emptied the dustpan into the garbage can with a vengeance. "I wish she could have picked somewhere else to die."

  My mouth opened in astonishment. "Josephine Sullivan!"

  There was a long silence while she slanted the broom against the counter. "I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry she's dead. I'm also sorry she had to die here. What are we going to do?"

  I folded my arms on the table and leaned my head on top. "I don't know. I'd hoped after the autopsy came back, the shop would be cleared. Maybe if they find a smoothie and test it—"

  "Are you kidding?" Josie snorted in disgust. "If something shows up in the drink, people might think you put it there. It's not going to get better, only worse."

  I tried to remain calm. "Okay, let's stay positive here."

  "What happens if they make us close the shop? For good?" Josie sat next to me and clutched my arm. "I need this to work, Sal. We can't get by on Rob's salary alone."

  I nodded. "I know. I'm in the same boat as you. If the shop goes belly up, I'll have to move back in with my parents. I don't think I could survive that."

  "At least your parents are willing to help. My mother's never thought about anyone but herself." Her lower lip started to tremble. She pushed back her chair and walked rapidly into the back room.

  Something was definitely wrong. Confused, I got to my feet and followed her. She was clutching the block table, hands shaking.

  "Hey." When I touched her shoulder, she collapsed into tears. Mystified, I put my arms around her. "What is it?"

  She drew back and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry."

  "What's wrong? You haven't been acting like yourself all day."

  She brought her eyes level with mine, and her cheeks reddened. "I didn't want to tell you—"

  Now I understood her hesitation. "Do you need money?"

  She nodded, glancing at the floor. "How did you know?"

  I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while I reached for my purse on a nearby shelf. I drew out my leather checkbook and a pen. "We've been friends for twenty years. Give me a little credit, will you. Is three hundred enough?"

  Josie's jaw dropped. "I don't know when I can pay it back. You can take some out of my salary each week."

  "You're not going to pay me back." I signed the check and put it in her apron pocket. "This place wouldn't be possible without you."

  "Sal." Her voice trembled as she hugged me. "You've been so good to me. And you're great to my boys, always buying clothes and toys for them. I don't want you to think this is for something frivolous. Danny needs glasses, and Rob's insurance won't cover it."

  My heart went out to her. "I wish I could afford to purchase health insurance for you. Maybe someday—"

  Josie held up her hand. "That's not what I was implying. I appreciate this more than you'll ever know."

  I cleared my throat, afraid I might cry too, and glanced at the clock. Six thirty. "What do you say we close up a half hour early? I doubt we'll get any big orders."

  She nodded and exhaled a long breath. "Okay."

  I turned the sign to Closed on the front door and locked it.

  Josie grinned. "What time are you meeting charming Officer Jenkins?"

  "Seven." I wanted to take a hot shower, but there wasn't enough time.

  "Oh, now I understand." Her eyes gleamed. "Why didn't you ask me to close up, silly? Go upstairs and start primping."

  I waved my hand dismissively. "We're only meeting for coffee at South Street Diner. It's not a big deal, trust me."

  "I see." Josie started to wipe the tables down. "And was this little rendezvous his idea or yours?"

  Her eyes shone, and I was pleased my gift had made a difference. There was no need to tell her how worried I was about the shop's livelihood or that three hundred dollars could have paid my rent for another week. Josie's life had never been easy. She'd grown up in poverty, a house overcrowded with too many siblings. She was the child her parents managed to forget about and had eaten more meals at my home than her own. Josie swore her children were going to have a better life, no matter what she had to do. The problem was that as soon as she and Rob started to get a little ahead, another minor catastrophe would befall them.

  "It was Brian's idea. Hardly a rendezvous. I told him about the smoothie, and he suggested we meet."

  She shook her head. "I think you're wasting your time. He's a policeman. He's not going to tell you what they found."

  I shrugged. "We'll see."

  "Hmm." Josie peered closer at me. "Perhaps it isn't a waste of time."

  She was impossible. "What are you talking about?"

  Josie's smile was wicked. "Hallelujah. This might be exactly what the doctor ordered."

  I made a face. "I'm not looking for a new boyfriend. I want to find out who's responsible for Amanda's death. That's all."

  "Whatever you say." Josie gave me a thumbs-up.

  * * *

  At 7:15, there was still no sign of Brian. I sat in the booth of the old-fashioned, fifties-themed diner. Should I call him? Had he stood me up? And why was I even using that phrase? It's not a date, Sal.

  I sat brooding over my cup of coffee, unsure of what to do next. Someone dropped a red rose on the table in front of me. When I looked up, Brian was standing next to the booth, grinning at me.

  "Sorry I'm late." He slid into the seat across from me and nodded at the rose. "I was passing the florist and figured you might need some cheering up after the last couple of days."

  I sniffed at the flower, inhali
ng the fragrant smell. It had been a long time since a man had done something nice for me. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

  He started to say something then colored up. A waitress appeared, and he glanced quickly at the menu. "Would you like something to eat?'

  "No, thanks."

  Brian ordered coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich. After the waitress left, he crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward, his gaze level with mine. He wasn't wearing his uniform. Instead, he was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a white Yankees T-shirt, which revealed his muscular arms. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans.

  "Did you go home to change first?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I had the day off, but I've been busy doing some work on the investigation. Your theory was correct. We did find a plastic cup in Amanda's car yesterday containing a smoothie. It was almost full, like she'd only taken a couple of sips at most. Very good detective work on your part, even though we beat you to it." He smiled.

  "Well, like I said, I happened to be with Kate when she mentioned the drink and wanted to tell you. Let's be honest. I need to clear my name from this entire situation."

  The waitress reappeared with Brian's sandwich and coffee.

  "I understand completely. I haven't had a chance to tell Kate yet. Plus, it only went to the lab for testing this morning. I've asked them to put a rush on it. We'll be able to get it analyzed to see if anything suspicious shows up."

  Brian shoveled the sandwich into his mouth, and I tried not to laugh.

  "What?" he asked.

  "You remind me of the little kids that come into my shop and can't stop eating cookies."

  Brian nodded. "I know. I'm terrible when it comes to eating healthy. I do try to stay in shape though. I have to for my job. I go to the gym four or five times a week."

  Oh, believe me, it shows.

  "Speaking of cookies…" I tossed a white bag onto the table. "These are for you. A dozen chocolate chip. Josie said they were your favorite."

  "That's really nice of you." His eyes twinkled at me as he took a cookie out of the bag. When he bit into it, crumbs fell onto his baseball shirt. "Mm."

  I shook my head. "You're from Boston and wearing a Yankees shirt?"

  "Well, I can't wear it back home. I'd have to take my gun everywhere for protection." Brian winked. "How about you? Do you like baseball?"

  "I love it."

  "Yankees fan?" he asked, hopeful.

  I smirked at him. "Sorry, I was brought up on the Sox. My grandmother's team."

  He smiled and groaned as he bit into the cookie again. "And you're a New Yorker!"

  "Okay, I get your point." God, he is so adorable.

  "Maybe we could take in a game sometime." He finished the cookie and gave a low moan. "That was great."

  I fanned myself with a napkin, finding it suddenly very warm in the booth. "I should have brought you more. We didn't sell much merchandise today."

  He pursed his lips. "Are people staying away because of Amanda?"

  "Actually, it's the opposite. We've had quite a few people coming in. But they're asking questions and not really buying much. We even caught one guy taking pictures on my front porch this morning. Josie chased him away with a broom."

  "Morbid curiosity." Brian shook his head in disgust.

  I sighed and fiddled with my spoon. "Something like that, I guess."

  "I'm sorry you have to go through this. Hopefully things will get back to normal soon." His eyes searched mine, and he hesitated for a moment. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

  My insides quivered like jelly. "Of course."

  "How long were you married?"

  "About five years." This wasn't the question I'd been expecting.

  Brian took a sip of his coffee. "What was your married name?"

  "Brown." I shifted in my seat and really hoped this would be the end of such an unpleasant subject.

  Recognition dawned on his face. "Wait, Sally Brown? Like, as in, Charlie's sister?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Another reason why I decided not to keep it after the divorce."

  His grin lit up the entire room as he laughed. "So while we're on the subject of names, how'd you wind up with Sally? It doesn't sound very Italian. Is it a family name?"

  I heard this all the time. "I'm the eldest in a Sicilian family. My dad desperately wanted a son. He was going to name him Salvatore after his father. I kind of screwed that up for him."

  "Okay, that makes sense now." He was reaching across the table to take my hand when his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. "Excuse me for a moment, Sally." His tone changed quickly from gentle to brisk. "Officer Jenkins. How can I help you?"

  I tried not to eavesdrop, but being curious by nature it was impossible, especially when I caught wind of who the conversation concerned. Amanda.

  "I see." Brian frowned. "I appreciate you putting a rush on it. Yes, this does change things. Thanks, Pete." He clicked off and looked at me with concern.

  "What's wrong?"

  He hesitated while he glanced around the room. "This is confidential."

  My stomach lurched. "Brian, please tell me what's going on."

  He lowered his voice. "That was the lab. There were traces of bee venom found in Amanda's smoothie."

  "Oh my God." I struggled to breathe normally. "So someone did kill her."

  "It looks that way. She might have had a sip or two from the drink on the way over to your shop, and then—" His face was a mask of worry. "Do you know what this means?"

  "Maybe that people will stop looking at me like I'm a murderer, I hope."

  Brian took a sip of his coffee. "This means someone might have been trying to frame you for her murder. Maybe the killer knew she was coming to your shop and wanted everyone to think you'd given her a tainted cookie. Or they hoped she'd bring the drink into your shop and people would think you tampered with it. This also means the killer was in her apartment that day and knew about her allergy."

  My head was spinning. This was too much to take in all at once. "Does this narrow down the suspects then?"

  Brian shrugged. "Not really. According to Kate Gregorio, many people were aware she had an allergy. Family, friends. I'm sure her employees must have known, too. I've questioned a couple of them already. There was an incident when she was stung and almost died a couple of years ago too. And you know how people like to talk in this town."

  Yes. That much I did know.

  "You need to be careful. Someone might be trying to make trouble for you." He frowned.

  "Do you think my shop will get back to normal now?" I asked.

  "I can't answer that. I'll call Kate and let her know the results, but it's important you don't say anything about this."

  "Could I at least tell Josie?" I drained my cup.

  "On two conditions." Brian reached across the table to take my hand in his strong, cool one, and a delicious shiver wafted up my spine.

  "The first is, she can't tell anyone. Like I said, we're not making this public knowledge yet. I shouldn't have even told you. If more people know the situation, it might be tougher to catch the perpetrator."

  I hadn't thought of that. "I'll make sure Josie understands. I want to help too."

  Brian shook his head. "Absolutely not. This may be dangerous. I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."

  "My business and reputation are on the line until I find out who did this. Kate came to the shop to ask for my help, you know."

  "Yes, you told me on the phone." Brian's voice was gentle as he kept a firm grip on my hand. "Let the police handle this. It's what we're here for."

  "Will you be at the wake Sunday afternoon?"

  He nodded. "I hope to. If not, another officer will be there. I have to drive to Boston tomorrow, and I'm staying over. It's my parent's fortieth anniversary."

  "Oh, that's lovely." What a wonderful son to drive all that way to be with his parents on their special day. "Will someone else be working on
the case while you're away?"

  "Of course. I'm not the only one investigating. Like I said, I'll be back on Sunday. I need to notify Kate of the findings as well. I'll call her when I get home tonight." He finished his coffee as the waitress approached us with the check. He waited for her to depart. "I really want to be at the wake. Sometimes the killer shows up there, so they can get an idea of what everyone else knows."

  I raised my eyebrows. I'd definitely be there then.

  "In the meantime, I want you to be good while I'm away. Which brings me to the other condition."

  I was afraid my hand was getting sweaty. If so, he didn't appear to notice. Or care. "Okay, I can't tell anyone beside Josie. So what's the other?"

  He gazed into my eyes and smiled. "I want you to promise you'll have dinner with me sometime next week, after I get back."

  The butterflies in my stomach were back full force. I knew I should refuse, but my head started swinging back and forth like a bobblehead before I could stop it. "I'd like that."

  "Good." Brian spoke in a low, smooth voice. "I can't wait."

  When a man stopped beside the table and cleared his throat loudly, I looked up and froze.

  Mike returned my gaze with one of surprise. He stared at Brian's hand on top of mine, and his face reddened. Embarrassed, I slowly released my hand and took a hasty sip of water. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words stuck in my throat.

  "How's it going, Mike?" Brian asked.

  Mike tore his eyes away from me to give Brian a surly look. "Fine, thanks. And you, officer?"

  "Never better." Brian gestured at the takeout container in Mike's hand. "Dinner on the run?"

  "I'm installing a main beam in a two-family. Looks like I'll be tied up pretty late tonight."

  Heat rose through my face like a sauna as both men watched me. I took another sip of water in a vain attempt to cool myself and stall.

  "Do you know Sally?" Brian asked.

  Mike's eyes locked on mine, and his sour look turned into a smirk. "Oh, yeah. We've met a few times." His face took on a strange expression similar to one I'd seen before when he'd tried to mask his true feelings. Pain? No. More likely anger this time. "Glad to see you're feeling better."