Small Town Scary (Cozy Mystery Collection)

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Small Town Scary (Cozy Mystery Collection) Page 11

by Anisa Claire West


  “We already swiped for fingerprints after you filed the initial missing person report. Now we’ll go back and compare Myers’ fingerprints on file in the national database from when she was arrested and booked in Montana. If the judge hadn’t set the bail so low, we wouldn’t be standing here right now because she would have done some hard time for pocketing that 10 grand.” Detective Mars heaved a disgusted sigh.

  “Okay, but still, you’re just going to leave?”

  “Ms. Vonnehaus,” Detective Chapman began condescendingly, “We’re on the hunt for a criminal wanted in 2 states. We can’t worry about your recipes right now. We have tens of thousands of dollars that we need to recover for the victims. And we need to put Myers behind bars before she rips anyone else off.”

  His entire statement was meaningless to me, except for one part. “Did you say 2 states? Is she wanted somewhere other than Montana?”

  “She’s wanted in North Dakota as well. On robbery charges,” Detective Mars revealed.

  All the fried chicken and biscuits must have destroyed some of Ted’s brain cells becausehe had missed a vital chunk of the story. “So I guess she was just making the rounds on her way over to Wisconsin,” I figured bitterly.

  “That’s how it would seem. We’re looking into what other states we need to add to that list.”

  “You’ll be adding Wisconsin,” I assured. “There’s no one else who would have stolen my recipes.” My convictions about Mikaila’s guilt were strong and steeped in raw instinct. I had protected the phony for long enough, bent over backwards to try to find her. Now, I would continue my search for her but for very different reasons.

  “Again, we’ll be in touch, Ms. Vonnehaus. Call us if you find anything else missing from the bakery…or your home,” Detective Mars said casually as he and his partner left me standing there with boundless energy to burn.

  As they drove away into the night, I found myself unable to keep still. There was no way I could get any sleep that night until I explored the trailer park. Momentarily, I thought of calling Chad and asking him to accompany me for safety. But I didn’t want to solicit anyone’s help. I needed to find out on my own what Mikaila was hiding in her trailer.

  Scurrying back to my car, I tried to calm myself and not drive like a maniac to Eagle Ridge like I had to get to the bakery. I forced myself not to think about how I didn’t carry any weapon, not even a can of pepper spray. I was making myself truly vulnerable by venturing to the trailer park alone at night. But with the persistent nonchalant attitude of the detectives, I had no other choice.

  Mindlessly, I switched the radio on as “Dani California” by Red Hot Chili Peppers drifted over the airwaves. I grimaced at the irony, wondering if Mikaila thought of herself as the sexy, slinky nomad described in the rock song. If she did, she was in for a rude awakening because now she had made it personal. I would rather that she had stolen cash from me than snatched away my family recipes.

  Rolling into Eagle Ridge, I realized that I didn’t have the exact address of the trailer park. So I pulled into a gas station and asked one of the attendants for directions.

  “Fill it up?” A young, scruffy man asked.

  “No, I just need directions…do you know where there’s a trailer park in Eagle Ridge?”

  The guy’s face altered with surprise as he replied, “Uh, yeah, it’s 5 blocks east off of Dodge Road. On the left.”

  “Thank you!” I quickly rolled up my window and sped out of the gas station, feeling the man’s eyes on my car as I drove eastward.

  “Damn it!” I swore out loud, realizing that even when I arrived at the park, I wouldn’t know which trailer Mikaila lived in. My only option would be to ask someone. Trying to inhale and exhale a few Zen breaths, I counted the blocks until I reached the fifth and then turned left.

  Situated next to a swamp, the trailer park was as gloomy as it had appeared in my imagination. Stark poverty was evident everywhere and made Fawns Crossing look like a Bel Air estate. Discreetly, I parked my car across the street from the park and then crossed over to the tightly packed cluster of 50 or so trailers. A balmy breeze carried rank odors from the swamp as I made my way over the muddy earth. Spotting a woman playing catch with her two small children, I decided she would be a good person to talk to.

  “Excuse me.” I approached the slender, haggard looking woman as she glanced up at me.

  Tossing the rubber ball to her little boy, she said in a gravelly voice, “Yeah?”

  “I’m looking for someone. Her name is Mikaila. She’s about my height. Long, dark hair. In her early twenties. Cute girl…”

  “A little chunky?” The woman asked as my heart palpitated.

  “Yes, yes that’s right! Do you know which trailer is hers?”

  “The one all the way down on the corner. By the swamp.” The woman pointed to the darkest area of the park where the only sounds were from frogs and owls.

  “Thank you so much!” I ran into the darkness, squealing as my foot sank into a muddy ditch. Steadying myself, I slowed down my pace; there was no need to run. Mikaila’s trailer was just a few steps away.

  I stopped short in front of the gray and white trailer, noting that the door was wide open. Creeping over to the door and peeking inside, I was only mildly surprised to find a room full of nothing. She had abandoned the trailer. Frustrated, I clenched my jaw, knowing that a career criminal like Mikaila could be anywhere in the country. She had probably fled the state the night she went “missing.” Still, I had come this far, and I wasn’t about to leave without investigating.

  Stepping inside the trailer, I noticed random bits and pieces she had left behind. A cheap aromatherapy candle sat burned out on a windowsill while an empty can of Coca Cola was strewn on the floor. I stared at the can, thinking how it could be used to extract both fingerprint and DNA evidence.

  “Why aren’t the detectives here?” I muttered aloud.

  Walking through the trailer to find any other clue that Mikaila might have left behind, I spied a shiny gold object on the floor. Moving closer, I saw that it was a heart locket. “Who did she steal this from?” I clipped, grasping the locket between my fingers and then opening it. Inside was a heart shaped photograph of a woman who looked like an older version of Mikaila. She had the same soft caramel eyes and rounded cheekbones. Surmising that the woman must be Mikaila’s mother or grandmother, I felt a stab of pity for my former friend. But the stab of pity transformed into a knife in the back as I spotted one more thing Mikaila had left behind in what had clearly been a haphazard effort to escape.

  Reflecting moonlight from the windowsill was a sheet of plastic that looked uncannily like one of my laminated recipes. Picking up the plastic from the dirty floor, I immediately recognized the flowing cursive handwriting of my great-grandmother. Though I had never met the woman, I had come to know her in a sense through her handwritten recipes. Those recipes had formed the backbone of my livelihood for over a decade and now they were gone except for one.

  My temper flaring, I held the sheet possessively in my hands, my gut feeling that Mikaila had taken the recipes immediately confirmed. Tears moistened my eyes as I wondered how many miles away all the other recipes were. Sadly, I faced the realization that I may never know the answer.

  Footsteps approached in the distance as I clutched the recipe to my heart. I tried not to panic as the footsteps edged closer to the trailer and an enormous shadow appeared outside the door. The shadow loomed closer as I shrank back against the wall, paralyzed with fear.

  A hand reached inside the trailer and creaked the door open another inch as I tried in vain to make myself invisible in the tiny compartment. One shallow breath later, the shadow materialized as the person barged into the trailer and looked me dead in the eyes.

  Chapter 9

  “Mikaila,” I whispered, feeling as though a ghost had just blown into the room.

  “What are you doing here, Cathleen?” She seemed genuinely shocked.

  “I’ve come
to take back what’s rightfully mine. My recipes.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mikaila balked as the tremors in my hands turned from fear to anger.

  Holding up the recipe, I gritted, “Here’s one of my recipes that you stole. Where are the others?”

  “I can’t tell you that, Cathleen.” She painted a sly, deliberate smile across her face, reminding me of the Cheshire Cat.

  “Honestly, how could you do this to me?” I blurted out. “I trusted you. I treated you well. Even invited you into my home! And I was the first person to look for you when you went…missing,” I uttered the last word sardonically.

  “I do what I have to do. I’ve been on my own since I was 15. My mother died of a drug overdose and who knows where my father is…”

  “Stop! Don’t try to get any sympathy from me, Mikaila. We all have difficulties.” I knew that if she kept talking, her story might soften my heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. She had stolen from me, plain and simple. And she needed to face the consequences for her actions.

  “Fine. I don’t have time to chat anyway. I just came back for something important that I left here.” She pushed her way through the trailer as I intuitively knew what she was looking for.

  “Is this what you left behind?” I asked, opening the palm of my hand and exposing the locket.

  “Yes! Give it to me!” Mikaila demanded as I folded my palm up and held the locket securely.

  “Gladly. If you give me my recipes,” I challenged, staring her down potently.

  “Cathleen, you don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll clobber you if I need to. I’ve had to fend for myself since…”

  “Since you were 15. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Go ahead and attack me. I’ll fight back. But I’d rather we make an even exchange. This locket, for my recipes.” I lengthened my posture and firmly held my ground. “It’s a picture of your mother inside, isn’t it?” I coaxed.

  “Yes,” she whispered as flickers of emotion danced over her features. “I can’t give you your recipes back, Cathleen. I sold them.”

  “To who?” I demanded. “To Maggie at Amazing Crumbles?”

  “No. To that new bakery in town. Just Cookies.” She looked me square in the eyes. “I’ve been planning to sell your recipes since I started working for you. I was just waiting for the highest bidder.” Her tone was prideful, victorious.

  “How much did you sell them for?” My mind percolated with notions of retrieving my recipes from the thieves at Just Cookies. It had only been a few days since Mikaila had sold the recipes, but already photocopies could have been made. Even worse, the recipes could have been scanned electronically and sold online. My fists curled as I willed myself not to cry.

  “Enough to get the hell out of Wisconsin. I’m going all the way east this time. To New York City. To start over,” Mikaila declared arrogantly.

  “Don’t buy your front row tickets to Broadway just yet, Myers.” A masculine voice emerged from the doorway of the trailer.

  Brimming with gratitude, I gazed over at Detective Mars who towered over both of us in the confined space. Mikaila whirled around and faced the police officer, her cocky demeanor not diminishing one iota as she regarded him with ferocity.

  “You don’t have anything on me,” she spat. “Even if you just heard our whole conversation, you can’t prove anything. We could have been rehearsing for a Broadway play!” She invoked his sarcasm as he held out a pair of handcuffs.

  “Do you have amnesia, Myers? You’re a wanted fugitive in Montana and North Dakota. We’ve got your fingerprints. We’ve got the arrest warrant. And now we’ve got you.” In one motion, the detective slapped the handcuffs over her wrists as she squirmed.

  “Well I’m not going down alone! You need to talk to Henrietta Nubrick. She’s the owner of Just Cookies and she bought the recipes for 3 grand.”

  “All this for $3,000?” I whispered in disbelief. “How could you gamble with your whole future for a few thousand dollars?”

  “You don’t come from where I come from,” Mikaila shot back bitterly as I clamped my mouth shut. Maybe I didn’t personally know what she had endured, but I knew that everyone needs to take accountability and live life authentically.

  Mechanically, Detective Mars recited Mikaila’s rights as she pursed her lips and turned her head away from him. “You took a risk by coming here alone tonight, Ms. Vonnehaus. But you also helped us catch our criminal.” Detective Mars nodded in my direction.

  He was right. If I hadn’t come to the trailer park, Mikaila would have been able to retrieve her locket quickly and jump on the nearest eastbound road to the Big Apple. “And I’m glad you came in when you did,” I returned.

  Chuckling, Detective Mars said, “My partner and I have been parked down the road in an unmarked car for quite a while, Ms. Vonnehaus. When we saw Myers return, we made our move and eavesdropped on a very fortunate conversation. I know you didn’t think we were doing our job.” He looked at me accusingly as I blushed. Detective Chapman fixed me with an even more accusatory glare as he emerged from outside the trailer.

  “I never meant to imply that you weren’t doing your job,” I protested.

  “Sure you did. But it’s okay. It all came out in the wash.” Detective Mars sighed deeply, clearly ready to put the case to rest.

  “What should I do with this?” I asked, holding out the locket.

  Detective Mars took the pendant from me. “This will be kept in safekeeping.” Turning to Mikaila, he said, “You’ll get this back along with the clothes you’re wearing once your sentences have been served. Although I’m not sure I really understand the sentimental value of the locket,” he snorted.

  Horrified, I couldn’t believe how insensitive the man was being. “Detective Mars, there’s a picture of her mother in there, her mother who…”

  “Her mother who is alive and well in Billings, Montana,” the detective announced in a satisfied drawl. “Really you are a pro, aren’t you, Myers? Telling Ms. Vonnehaus that fake sob story so that she would feel sorry for you and not press charges, right?”

  A wicked light gleamed in Mikaila’s eyes as I finally saw her for who she was. She wasn’t someone to be protected or pitied. She was someone to be put away!

  “Well her plan didn’t work. I will definitely be pressing charges,” I announced definitively. “But I don’t understand why she would come back for the locket. If her mother is alive, then what’s so important about it?”

  “It’s an excellent scamming tool, isn’t it Myers?” Detective Mars asked rhetorically. “Plus it looks like solid gold to me and could be pawned in an emergency. And we’re certainly glad you came back for it.” He smirked wryly.

  “So am I, Mikaila,” I added. “Can’t believe you actually gave me your real name.”

  “Yeah, Myers, you thought you were safe here, right? Not a chance,” Detective Chapman said maliciously.

  “And why did you have to leave my bakery such a mess that night? Were you trying to make it look like a kidnapping had taken place?” I reasoned as Mikaila stayed stubbornly mute.

  “I’d say that’s right on target, Ms. Vonnehaus. If you hadn’t cleaned up the mess, Detective Chapman and I probably would have been able to see immediately that it was a staged scene,” Detective Mars said, guiding Mikaila out of the trailer.

  Even though she had completely deceived me, I couldn’t watch as the detectives led her to the squad car in handcuffs. My emotions were too raw and my shock over Mikaila’s real persona still too fresh. Holding my lone surviving recipe tightly, I walked out of the trailer and to my car. Finally, I was ready to go home. No more investigating or chasing or guessing. At least for the next 24 hours, my only job was to prepare for my second date with Chad. A happy little shiver spiraled through me as I envisioned him standing at my door.

 

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