He wiped at his eye and sniffed. “We were dating. I loved her.” The tears started flowing again.
I walked over, patting him on the back. “I’m so sorry, Cole. This must be so hard for you.” I felt useless, watching him cry. He seemed like such a manly-man type that I’d never seen past his macho, slightly chauvinistic attitude before. It surprised me that Francine had gone out with someone like him, but apparently there was more to him than I’d realized. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I just, I thought she didn’t answer my call because she was mad at me again. And then it turned out she was dead.” He buried his face in my shoulder and started sobbing.
I was torn between compassion—wishing I could help—and feeling uncomfortable. I barely knew the guy, after all. A glance around me showed he was drawing attention, but I didn’t see anyone I recognized. “There, there.” Okay, did I actually say that? How placating and obnoxious am I?
He pulled away, straightening up and wiping his face. “I have to go home. I can’t work like this.”
“Of course you can’t. Take care of yourself.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder and let him go, biting my tongue on the automatic offer for him to come talk if he needed to—the last thing I wanted was to encourage him to hang around my shop, weeping, when I had such a busy week. And he had to have closer friends than me to commiserate with.
I continued on to my vehicle, thinking maybe if he calmed down by the next day, I could take him a little pick-me-up treat and ask him who else might have wanted Francine dead. My hour of reflection and quiet hadn’t made either Connie Larabee or Mary Ellen any more likely suspects. As far as I knew, Tingey hadn’t actually arrested Mary Ellen, so he had to be looking for better angles.
“Cole Taylor was dating Francine?” Honey asked when we were dishing up the pumpkin dessert I’d brought that night.
“I’d never heard about it either. I wonder how long it’s been going on.” I scooped some whipped topping as she filled each of the bowls with the dessert and Madison ran back and forth, taking them to the table.
“It couldn’t be too long,” she said. “Someone would have mentioned it.”
“They seem like a total mismatch. I’m surprised they went out. But I didn’t know either of them well.” I tried to give it the benefit of the doubt. After all, Lenny and Kat seemed like the weirdest couple ever, and they were perfect for each other. Who was I to judge?
“Cole Taylor and Francine?” Jerry, Honey’s brother-in-law, asked as he fished a spoon out of a nearby drawer. He snorted a little. “They weren’t dating.”
I turned to study him. “Cole said they were.”
“In his dreams. She didn’t like him. I watched him ask her out one day and she totally blew him off. Seemed to me like he was making a nuisance of himself.” He snatched a bowl and joined the others in the dining room.
“That’s interesting.”
“Yeah,” Honey agreed. “You need to have a chat with him and find out the truth. And talk to one of the other teachers. I heard she was close to Ali Pinkston. Ali might know if Cole and Francine were really dating.”
“I’ll do that.” But I couldn’t stop wondering why Cole would say they were dating and he loved her if there really wasn’t anything between them. Maybe they had been in a fight when Jerry overheard them?
Morning came far too quickly, despite the fact that I stayed awake much later than I had expected thinking of Francine and whether or not Cole could be her killer. When I finally dropped off to sleep, I was left with less than five hours before having to rise to meet the new day.
Tingey came into my shop almost as soon as we opened, and had some news. “Francine is originally from Abilene. She moved here because she had a stalker,” he announced as he walked through the door. “And Clark is actually her mother’s maiden name, not her real last name. She used it when she moved to hide from him.”
“No!” This was juicy goodness as far as gossip went but far more importantly, it opened vast possibilities for my investigation. This might be a good thing, but unless I could get clear details (which he rarely divulged) it wouldn’t help much at all. “How did you find out?”
“The Abilene Police Department had a file about her stalker. She’d been getting letters.” He leaned on the counter. “Apparently he didn’t give up when she moved.”
I perked up. “Any clue about who it is?” It would help if we knew who to look into. “And what was her real last name, anyway?”
“Lawrence, and no, there were no clues about who the guy is, but according to Francine’s sister, she was getting more letters. He must be serious if he followed her all the way here.” His lips formed a frown. “You need to stay out of it.”
“So why did you tell me about the stalker?” I asked. Come to think of it, the fact that he’d volunteered the information was completely out of character for him.
“So you’ll know it’s serious and leave it alone.” He pulled out a bill from his pocket. “The usual.”
I held in my irritation that him keeping details to himself wasn’t exactly a surprise, then heard Lenny come in through the back door. “I understand.” I didn’t agree, but I understood. I handled his order and passed it back to him with the change. Lenny shuffled into the room with me as I waved Tingey out the door, pondering the news. “Sleep well?” I asked Lenny.
“As well as can be expected with nightmares running through my head of what’s going to happen when Kat’s family arrives.”
“You’ll be fine. Just settle down.” I paused, considering. “And could you do a little computer work for me later?”
“What kind of work?” He perked up, looking like he knew exactly what I meant and couldn’t wait.
“Not the illegal kind,” I assured him. When his face fell, I smiled. “But I do need you to do a search to see if you can find out anything else about Francine’s stalker from back when she lived in Abilene. There’s got to be some kind of link to him that we can find.”
Lenny brightened. “Just let me finish up the crumb coats on today’s cakes.”
I smiled, knowing answers would soon be at hand, one way or another.
Dozens of cookies, cupcakes and other scrumptious desserts ran through my ovens and filled the display case while Lenny and I bantered, greeting customers and filling orders. His wedding was only five days away, and we squeezed in time to bake the refreshments for his reception among everything else.
People had been asking for details about Francine’s death—the police had released very few particulars to the press. I enjoyed the ringing cash register as I slowly emptied the display cases—packing the food for hungry customers—and made plans for tomorrow’s treats. When Cole came in late in the morning (right on his usual schedule) he gave me a tremulous smile and ordered his cappuccino and cinnamon roll, then took a seat at one of my tables.
I was happy to join him when he offered. I’d already been on my feet for five hours and could use a break. Besides, I’d been dying to hear his alibi and find out more about his relationship with Francine. Jerry’s announcement that the two weren’t really a couple had me anxious to get to the truth.
“How are you doing today?” I asked as I took the seat across from him, sipping the glass of water I’d poured for myself.
Cole sighed heavily. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. Things were going so well for us; I thought we were finally getting somewhere.” He stared at his cinnamon roll, which sat on his plate, untouched. The overhead lights reflected off his forehead—which was extra-large due to his receding hairline. “I mean, I knew she liked to play games and stuff, but things were coming along.”
“What do you mean she liked to play games?” I was pretty sure I knew, but I wanted him to clarify.
“You know how women are—you are one, after all. They flirt and tease to let you know they’re into you, but when you make a move, they shy away. It’s all an act to keep things interesting.” He took a sip of his drink. “She was the
queen at playing games. Took it too far sometimes.” His brows furrowed and a scowl drew his mouth down.
It burned me that he would lump all women in with that behavior. I never played those kinds of games, and I didn’t know many women who did. I pulled back my irritation, however, focusing on the information I needed. “That must have been hard on you.”
He nodded. “We were in love; I could see that she felt the same way for me as I did about her. So why was she always pushing me like that?” An edge of anger entered his voice now. “It wasn’t right.”
“No, I can see that.” What I was really thinking was that the idiot didn’t know how to take a hint. I didn’t know Francine all that well, but she didn’t seem like the kind of person to keep someone hanging if she really wanted to date him. “You said you were out of town Friday night? Where did you go?”
His gaze skittered away from mine. “I was fishing. We had a nice dinner at the Silver Spur the night before, and then she got uptight when I suggested going back to her place. I decided I needed to take some time to cool off, so I took my boat out to Silver Lake, caught some bluegill and rainbow. It was nice, you know? Relaxing. I had no idea what was going on at the school.” His eyes watered, but no tears fell. “If I had been there I might have been able to save her.”
I reached out and patted his hand. “You can’t blame yourself for not being there. You couldn’t have known.”
Lenny came to the window between the kitchen and dining area and studied Cole for a moment. I flashed him a smile to let him know everything was fine. It felt good knowing he was there watching out for me—even if I didn’t need it.
“Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted her dead?” I asked after a long moment. I tried to sound understanding and commiserating instead of like a rumor-broker looking for something juicy, but I’m not sure I succeeded.
“No. Who would want her dead? She was so sweet and innocent.” He wiped at his blood-shot eyes and sniffed a little then touched his hair, like he was worried it might have fallen out of position. That was unlikely considering how much product he used.
I patted his big, soft hand again, not sure what else to do. The front door opened then, and a pair of giggly teens entered. I excused myself to go help them. When I finished with the wishy-washy Nolan sisters, Cole had already left. I wasn’t sure what to think about what he’d said. Had he really had a date with Francine Thursday night, or was that him twisting reality around?
For once Lenny turned up almost nothing in his computer search. He was usually so reliable, but I didn’t really have time for him to do a good job with the hacking, and he was working from the bakery, not his setup at home, so I had to give him props for finding Francine’s sister and learning she lived in a suburb of Abilene.
“Emma,” he said. “Nice name, a little old-fashioned, but considering her sister was named Francine, I guess she got off easy.”
I wondered if she was coming to town to claim the body. I was sure the Yavapai County medical examiner would finish with Francine by the end of the day, if he hadn’t already, and hoped I wasn’t too late. I picked up the phone to call Marge across the street. “Hey, I need a favor,” I said when she answered. I explained what was going on. “Can you find out if Francine’s sister is in town? I need to talk to her.” Marge knew everyone in town, having lived there for about a hundred and thirty years—or maybe it just seemed that way. She was a terrific resource when I didn’t know where to start looking for someone.
“Let me check out the grapevine.”
Marge hung up and I turned back to Lenny. “Now that you’ve done the online search, I’ll see if Marge can track her down. It seems odd that I haven’t heard of her showing up yet, especially since Francine had someone who could come out. I wonder why Tingey didn’t mention it?” Thoughts zipped through my head with lightning speed and I tried to grab them as they zoomed past.
“Obviously the cop’s keeping it to himself. He never did like to share,” Lenny reminded me. “Take, take, take, that’s what they do best.” His words were mostly joking.
“Yeah.” The jerk probably only shared things with me so he could keep the other details to himself. And he seemed so helpful and open. I should have known better.
Thankfully, Marge called back within the hour, and she was full of useful tidbits. “I spoke with Gus at the funeral home. He was contracted to prepare the body after they finished the autopsy. He said Emma’s in town to pick up the remains today, and should be in his office any minute, but she won’t be here for very long. She and Francine are headed to the airport within the hour.”
“Great. Thanks.” Almost three days had passed and I hadn’t thought of Francine’s family until now—I must be slipping. I turned to Lenny. “Can you cover here for a few minutes while I run to the funeral home?”
“Sure, sure. I have nothing better to do than to cover for you while you hare off on your investigations. I had no idea that was why you hired me to work for you.” His tone was dry.
“You’re the best,” I told him, then returned to the phone. “I’ll run out there now. I’ll take her some cookies or something to say we’re sorry for her loss. And with any luck, I’ll get her talking.”
“You always amaze me, girl. But if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
We hung up and I put together a small box of treats, then walked to the back door, taking off the apron I had slid over my chef’s jacket while I frosted cupcakes earlier.
“Be back soon.” I headed to the funeral home, which was only a few blocks from my bakery.
Gus was in his sixties, easily old enough to retire, but seemed entirely uninterested in the option. His steel gray hair didn’t hide the youthful exuberance with which he faced every task. “Tess, so glad you could make it. Emma is in the other room, checking over the paperwork before she leaves. I’ll be taking the casket to the airport soon.”
“Thank you so much for letting Marge know so I could chat with her for a few minutes.” Gus and I first met when I joined the local Chamber of Commerce last spring; he’s like everyone’s favorite grandpa.
“You be nice to that girl. She’s hurting,” he said. “Then again, looks like you brought her something sweet, and that can’t hurt.” He winked at me.
Since I clearly remembered my own grief at the loss of my parents and later, my grandma, I wasn’t about to tread heavily. I cracked open the door to Gus’s office. “Emma, do you have a moment?” I asked.
She looked up at me, her eyes dry, her face ravaged with grief. “Who are you?”
I used a soft voice, hoping it would soothe, though nothing I said would really make her feel better. “My name is Tess. I knew your sister. It’s a shame you’re not holding a memorial here before you take her home. She had a lot of friends.” Not close friends, apparently, but that wasn’t exactly what mattered here, was it?
She twisted the tissues in her hand. “That’s kind of you. I just don’t understand what happened. How could things have gotten so far? We thought she would be safe here.”
“You mean with her stalker, right?” I asked, taking the seat beside her and setting the pastry box on my lap.
“Yes. We told the police he was dangerous, whomever he was. They didn’t take us very seriously.” She sniffled. “I wonder if they’ll take it seriously now.” Anger made her eyes narrow. “The detective here doesn’t seem to have any idea who killed her.”
“I brought you this,” I said as I passed over the treats. “I know I couldn’t really eat when my parents passed, but I thought, just as a small token. And maybe you’ll want something later.”
She accepted it with a nod.
“Can you tell me what happened with the stalker? Do you know anything about him?” I threaded my fingers together and tightened them so my knuckles whitened, letting myself imagine the way Francine must have felt when he followed her here. “It freaks me out to wonder if he’s still here, why he did something like that.”
Emma reache
d for a facial tissue from the box on the corner of Gus’s desk. “I only saw the one letter he sent her, but she said they were pretty much all the same. They came in basic envelopes, like you’d get from any office supply place. They had her name on the front, with her address, and no return address. They were delivered with the mail, but on the one she showed me, the stamp hadn’t been canceled. I guess sometimes the machines fail, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that, so I didn’t expect it.”
“Do you have any idea who it is? What he looks like?” I was desperate for something more, something that would lead us to the right answers.
“No, she had no idea who he was, what he looked like. It was just the letters, and sometimes he left her little presents on the front porch. From Your Prince Charming—that’s how they were all signed.” She shivered a little.
I considered the new information and tried to narrow down options. “Did she have a cluster mail box, or one that was separate? Most of the people here have individual mailboxes on the street.”
“It was a separate one. On the street. Why?” Emma dabbed at her eyes with the tissue, catching the tears as they started to fall.
“I was just wondering how they got in her mail. But if she didn’t have a box that required a key, anyone could have left them in there.” Which meant they may have come through the postal system, but likely not.
“That’s what I thought at first, but then she said one day the mail lady left the letter with the others when Fran was home.” She brushed the tissue across her cheek. “I don’t know what to think.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thanks for talking to me. I know Francine’s students are going to miss her a great deal. My best friend’s son has been really sad about it. If you ever come back to town, stop into my shop. I’ll buy you a cookie.” I tapped the logo on my chef’s jacket and stood.
“Thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.” She lifted the goodies. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy this. Whatever it is.”
Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) Page 3
