by Carol Durand
**
Missy had taken a brief respite from her afternoon baking and sat down at a corner table with coffee and a Cherry Amaretto cupcake, nibbling a bit every now and again, but mostly sipping at the coffee and staring into space. The bell above the front door clanged and she looked up startled and slightly annoyed. Her temper had been precarious lately, which was unusual for her, but not entirely unexpected, given her recent habits.
The unexpected guest was Marsha Mueller, and Missy beckoned for her to come sit.
“I actually forgot that it’s Tuesday,” she apologized, jumping up to get coffee and a cupcake.
“Suddenly they don’t seem as important anymore, do they?” she asked, eyeing her cupcake. “What flavor is that?” she asked, sniffing it from a distance.
“Cherry Amaretto,” Missy replied. “It’s a new recipe.”
Marsha made a face. “Do you suppose that I could have something different?” she asked. “I had a bad experience with Amaretto liquor in college and I haven’t been able to stomach even the smell of it ever since,” she explained, pushing the plate away.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea,” Missy scooped up the offending cupcake and took it to the kitchen, coming back with a Coconut Dream cupcake. “I hope you like coconut,” she said, handing the plate to her friend.
“More than life itself, honey,” Marsha smiled a sad smile. She delicately unwrapped the fluffy epitome of coconut perfection, took a large bite, and pronounced it delicious.
Missy’s eyes grew wide for a moment, and her heart began to pound. Picking up her coffee mug to cover her reaction, she was dismayed to see that her hand shook so badly that the coffee sloshed in the cup. Entirely absorbed in her cupcake, Marsha failed to notice her hostess’s panic attack and blithely munched her treat.
“Marsha, honey,” she began, trying desperately to keep her voice from shaking. “I really need to get back to the kitchen, I have some rosewater and vanilla cupcakes that need to be frosted before the tops get too tough. Will you be okay out here by yourself?” she stretched her mouth across her teeth in what she hoped looked like a smile.
“Of course, Missy. Go do your thing,” she waved her hand to shoo her friend away without looking up from her cupcake. “What do I owe you?” she finally glanced up, chewing.
“It’s Tuesday,” she managed to get the words out without stuttering. “….it’s on the house.”
She gave a reasonable impression of nonchalance as she made her way back to the kitchen, but once the swinging doors swung shut behind her, she went searching for Ben, eyes wide with fear, her heart pounding nearly out of her chest.
“Ben,” she whispered, hating the fact that she was about to deceive the kindest, most loyal person she’d ever known. “There is a woman sitting in the eating area. She’s a member of my book club and is still really upset about the whole thing with Sally Higgins. I want you to go out there and pretend to clean something, but engage her in conversation, and try not to let her leave before I come back out, okay?”
“Okaaaay…” he replied, giving his boss a strange look. “Everything okay, Ms. G.?”
Another faked smile. “Of course, everything is fine. I just have to make a phone call and I don’t want to leave her by herself,” she shrugged. Ben raised his eyebrows questioningly, but turned to do her bidding, and she let out a sigh of temporary relief.
Chapter 14
Chas Beckett was at his desk going through his notes on the Higgins murder yet again. Something just wasn’t adding up. He’d sent a patrolman to Samantha Lemmon’s apartment on the night that Missy’s books were burned, and not only had the young woman been sound asleep, but, as Missy had described, she had no nails to speak of and the ones that she did have were completely unpolished. Fingerprints taken from the murder scene as well as fingerprints on the broken glass from Missy’s porch didn’t match the ones that Samantha had willingly provided. The blood type from the smears on the yellow siding of Missy’s house weren’t the same type as Samantha, and it was looking more and more like the unfortunate woman really was innocent. That being the case, who would’ve had cause to murder Sally Higgins? Clearly it was someone who knew how important her book club was to her – the clues that had been intentionally left made that abundantly clear.
A uniformed officer interrupted the detective’s thoughts.
“Detective Beckett, there’s a visitor here to see you,” the young cop said, inclining his head toward the plump little woman trailing behind him.
Chas tried not to let his annoyance show as he thanked the officer and greeted the woman.
“What can I do for you, Ms…?”
“Parsons. Tamela Parsons,” the pleasant-looking woman blushed when he addressed her. “I’m in the Burgundies and Books book club with your…er…with Missy,” she stammered a bit, not knowing the exact nature of their relationship. “Anyway, she always speaks very highly of you and…so…when I found something as I was going through my things that I thought might be important, I thought that you might be a good person to show them to,” she finished awkwardly, clearly intimidated by the handsome detective.
“You have my attention, Ms. Parsons,” Chas leaned back in his chair, indicating that she should sit in one of the club chairs across the desk from him.
“Oh please, call me Tamela,” she giggled nervously.
“Tamela, then,” he said agreeably. “What is it that you have there?” the detective asked, referring to the manila envelope that she was clutching protectively.
Glancing furtively around, she leaned closer and said, “Photos,” in a low voice.
“May I?” Chas extended his hand.
“Oh, of course,” she nodded, handing him the envelope.
He flipped through them carefully, recognizing the victim, Sally Higgins, who seemed to be engaged in a loving relationship with the man in the photos.
“Sally and her husband?” he guessed, putting the photos down on his desk.
“Umm…no,” Tamela looked around again, leaning even further forward. “Sally and Marsha Mueller’s husband…er…late husband, as it were,” she confided, eyes wide.
“They were having an affair?” Chas asked.
“Yes, for several years, I think.”
“When were these taken?”
“Just a couple of years ago, right before Ed…died,” Tamela replied, shaking her head sadly.
“And how is it that you have them?” Chas raised an eyebrow at her.
Tamela Parsons blushed to the roots of her hair. “Well, our book club met at Marsha’s tiny little house one night, and on my way back from the bathroom, I started snooping around in Ed’s study, and found them in a drawer. My curiosity got the best of me and I started flipping through them. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and I panicked. I didn’t want to get caught – I was so embarrassed, so I tucked them into the back of the book that I was carrying and ended up taking them home. I’d always intended to put them back at some point, but then Ed died a few months later so I just didn’t see the point,” she explained, ashamed.
“Does Marsha know that you have them?”
“Oh, absolutely not, she’d kill me if she knew,” the blushing woman said, ironically.
“Do you think Marsha ever confronted Sally with what she knew?” Chas was taking copious notes as they talked.
“It’s hard to say. Shortly after that night, it seemed like Marsha almost became obsessed with Sally. Wherever Sally went, Marsha went too. They joined all of the same clubs, went to all the same parties and events, but there definitely seemed to be some sort of tension there.”
The detective nodded. “Marsha introduced Samantha Lemmon to the book club, didn’t she?” he asked. Tamela nodded. “And then Sally and Samantha became close?”
“Oh yes,” she smiled. “Sally took Sam under her wing from the start. Those two were like peas in a pod.”
“How do you supposed Marsha felt about that?” he probed.
“I don’t
know, but I do recall seeing her shoot the two of them some very sharp looks. I think she may have felt left out,” Tamela commented.
“So she decided to kill two birds with one stone,” Chas mused, thinking.
“Beg your pardon?” the confused woman asked.
“Nothing, just thinking aloud,” Chas flashed a brilliant smile, hoping to throw her off. His tactic worked, she blushed from her neck to her ears again. “Thank you for coming in today, Tamela, you’ve been very helpful,” he said, standing. “You don’t mind if I hang on to these, do you?” he employed another dazzling smile.
“Oh, my, not at all, Detective, just don’t let Marsha know that you got them from me, I don’t want her to be angry with me.”
“You certainly don’t,” Chas thought to himself as he ushered Tamela Parsons out of his office.
Chapter 15
“Chas, omigosh, I know who murdered Sally Higgins!” Missy said in a low voice on the phone.
“Me too,” he replied, but she was too keyed up to notice.
“Marsha Mueller came in and she had bright red nail polish with the tips worn off and she has pierced ears and was wearing diamond earrings that were like the one that I found on the porch. I didn’t understand why, but when we were at book club the last time, she was pretty snappy with Sally and I think it’s because Sally wanted Sam to help her with the Garden Walk committee instead of Marsha, so Sam is innocent and Marsha did it,” she explained in a rush. “Marsha Mueller is sitting in my shop right now eating a coconut cupcake, can you come arrest her?” she whispered, standing in the far corner of her office with the door closed.
“I came to the same conclusion, but I’m working on tying it all together at the moment. Just let Marsha go on her way, and when I have something more concrete, I’ll get a warrant,” the detective advised. “And Missy…be careful.”
**
Chas Beckett was in the process of putting all of the pieces of the Sally Higgins murder together. While the fingerprints that the lab had found didn’t match Samantha Lemmon’s, they all matched each other, and he would bet his last dime that they would match Marsha Mueller’s, along with the traces of blood that had been smeared on Missy’s house, and the DNA from the earring post. The murder mystery book that had been left open on Missy’s pillow, was displaying the page that described the body of the cheating wife being found, and Tamela Parsons had provided photos illustrating the affair that had taken place between Sally and Marsha’s husband.
When Chas had interviewed Marsha, she had immediately cast suspicion upon Samantha, the newest member of the group, obviously because she perceived her to be Sally’s ally. He was planning to ask Sam Lemmon if Sally had said anything about Marsha, jealousy, or an affair. If Samantha knew about any or all of those things, and Marsha had indeed killed Sally, Sam might be next on the list. It looked as though everything Marsha had done, from vandalizing Missy’s house, to burning books, to dousing the porch in wine, had been designed to set Samantha up, but she hadn’t been quite careful enough about covering her tracks.
Detective Beckett had just picked up his desk phone to call down to the lab to see if they were done processing the evidence from all of the crime scenes that were seemingly related to the Sally Higgins murder, when the officer who had brought Tamela Parsons to see him reappeared at his door.
“Detective?” he rapped on the door frame, and Chas put his desk phone down, sighing. “I thought you might want to know, we got a call from an apartment complex close to downtown, regarding an assault with a deadly weapon. The intended victim’s friend was coming to pick her up and didn’t get to the door before the victim came running out screaming,” he explained quickly.
“Okay…” Chas nodded, waiting for more information.
“The victim is a Ms. Samantha Lemmon,” he said, glancing at his notes, “…and the perp is a Ms. Marsha Mueller. The friend who called the assault in is Echo Willis. The victim is being transported to the hospital with lacerations, and the perp is in custody, being transported to lock-up.”
Chas was out of his chair and had his sport coat halfway on before the officer had even finished his report. He was headed to the hospital first, to see what had prompted the attack on Samantha Lemmon, then he would head to the lock-up to inform Marsha Mueller that she was not only under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon, but also for the murder of her husband, Edward Mueller, and her former best friend, Sally Higgins.
When Tamela had told Chas that Ed’s death had seemed a bit suspicious, he did some checking and found that he’d had the exact same earmarks for cause of death that Sally had. Ed’s death had been attributed to sleep apnea, because it was clear from the autopsy that he had suffocated to death, and Sally had been quite obviously smothered with a pillow while she slept. When Marsha smothered Sally, she had knelt on the sleeping woman’s arms, bruising them. Autopsy photos of Edward Mueller showed similar bruising.
There had been a significant amount of alcohol in his system, which is part of why sleep apnea had seemed an obvious choice – the combination of the two was known to be deadly. There had been an empty bottle of wine on Sally’s kitchen counter, alongside a glass that had her fingerprints all over it, and Chas theorized that Marsha had gotten both of her victims drunk enough to pass out, then smothered them as they slept. Sally’s autopsy results would most likely support that theory and were due back from the coroner any time now.
Chapter 16
Missy went back out to the front of the store after hanging up with Chas and catching her breath for a moment, planning to tell Ben that he didn’t have to distract Marsha anymore, and was surprised to see that the murderer had already taken her leave.
Ben saw his boss surveying the eating area and apologized. “She seemed to be in a hurry to leave when I came out here, I tried to talk to her, but she just kind of waved me off,” he explained.
Missy was actually relieved that Sally’s killer had left her shop, and heaved a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry about it, Ben, it’s probably best that she’s gone.” She told the young manager what had been going on and that it looked like Marsha was Sally’s killer.
“So you left me out here with a woman who is under suspicion for murder? Thanks, boss,” he teased, glad he hadn’t known in advance. It was impossible for Ben to lie, and he just knew that he would’ve acted oddly and tipped her off.
Missy glanced at her watch. “I love my work, but I am more than glad that it’s closing time,” she admitted, not feeling the least bit guilty. “Flip the sign please, Ben,” she nodded to the placard that currently said “Open.”
“Wow, twenty minutes early? I’m certainly not going to argue,” he grinned, heading for the front door to turn the sign over to “Closed.”
“You’re the best, Ben,” Missy smiled. “Would you mind staying while I clean up? I probably don’t have any reason to worry, but I’d rather not be alone for now,” she confessed.
“No prob,” he nodded. “I clean the eating area and you clean the kitchen?” he offered.
“Sounds great, let’s do it.”
The two of them finished the closing duties and cleanup in record time, each eager to get out of there at the end of a long day. Hanging up their aprons, the locked up and left, with Ben watching Missy unlock and start her car before getting into his to go home to Cheryl and baby Cammie.
Missy drove straight to Chas’s house, where she’d pick up the dogs and take them for a long walk to ease some of her tension. She knew that Chas was on Marsha’s trail, but in her opinion, he just couldn’t arrest her soon enough for comfort. She felt terrible about having been so cold to Samantha because she had suspected her of killing Sally, and planned to apologize profusely as soon as Marsha was charged and everything was wrapped up. She should have known, from the simple fact that her own best friend Echo had befriended Sam, that the young woman was not only innocent, but of good character. Missy may have led a fairly sheltered life, but Echo had been around the block enough ti
mes to generally know a criminal when she saw one, unless they happened to be male, and incredibly good-looking.
Jogging to the small park in Chas’s neighborhood with Toffee and Bitsy felt good, almost cleansing, and while she knew that there was still a murderer on the loose, she also knew that Chas was on top of the situation, and that ultimately, everything would be okay. She thought fondly of the man whom she’d grown to depend upon for emotional support and quiet strength. He was kind, honest, and an amazing human being, and she felt incredibly fortunate to have him in her life. She was nearly back to his simple but stately home, when the phone that had been tucked into an arm band so that she could run unencumbered, buzzed, signaling an incoming call.
Coming to a halt and trying to regulate her breathing a bit, she unholstered the phone and saw that Echo was calling.
“Hey girl, what’s shakin?” she answered, glad to hear from her best friend.
“Omigosh, Missy, something terrible has happened, can you come meet me at the hospital?” her normally laid-back friend sounded frantic. “I’m in the ER waiting room.”
“Of course, I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” she promised, hanging up and sprinting for Chas’s house as fast as her furry friends’ legs would allow.
Not bothering to change her clothes, Missy quickly filled food and water dishes for the girls, wiped her face with a damp washcloth, grabbed her purse and car keys and headed out the door. She found Echo pacing in the hallway outside of the ER waiting room, blood all over her once-light blue t-shirt.
“Echo, what happened?” Missy asked, more than disturbed to see her friend covered in blood, and hugging her close, regardless.
“It’s Sam. We were supposed to have a pizza and movie night at her place, and when I was walking to her door, she came running out, screaming and covered in blood, followed by this crazy redhead who had a knife. When the woman saw me, she dropped the knife and ran around the corner of the building. I was scared for Sam, so I shoved her in my car and locked the doors so that I could call 911. They came really fast, but I don’t know if they caught her attacker or not,” she explained, tears running down her cheeks as she remembered the grisly scene.
