“Don’t patronize me, Joanna. You know why I was really there.”
To drop a fish oil capsule onto the floor. Playing dumb isn’t working, so I need to switch tactics. I just hope Cam can hear all this on the other end of the phone since my purse is muffling our voices. I shift in my seat, trying to get my purse to open up more in the process. “Okay, you’re right. I do know. You came into Cup of Jo so you could leave one of the fish oil pills there.”
“Very good.”
“But that’s not how you poisoned Mr. Cromwell.”
“No. That was just to possibly frame you or someone else who might have attended your grand opening.”
“Elena Reede. You knew her mother took fish oil, and you knew Sherman Cromwell was allergic to it. You also knew Elena didn’t want Sherman as a business partner anymore.”
“It’s funny how much you learn when you work with people’s money.” She smiles.
“And the chocolate-covered strawberries,” I say.
She laughs. “My, my, you did do some investigative work, didn’t you, Joanna? Please, go on. Let’s see how much you got right.”
“You knew Alec Whitaker was visiting his daughter last weekend and that he always brought gifts for the Cromwells. Flowers for Gwen and fruit for Sherman. Chocolate-covered strawberries were his favorite.”
“You must tell me how you figured that one out.”
“The autopsy. The coroner found two things in Mr. Cromwell’s stomach. My macchiato and a chocolate-covered strawberry, which you soaked in fish oil.”
“He would have tasted it, too, if I hadn’t given him the suggestion to dip it in the macchiato.”
So that’s why there were traces of fish oil in the cup. “Who were you actually trying to frame?”
“That’s the beauty of my plan. I framed several people, including you. I thought it would take the police forever to figure it out.”
“Because no one saw you with Mr. Cromwell. Jill said you knew he liked to have breakfast in the park.”
“That’s right. I met him there. Right after his phone call about stopping the check.”
“But you thought he was backing out of your son’s business. Weren’t you surprised when he wasn’t unhappy to see you?”
“I never argued on the phone. If I had, someone would have heard me. I was very calm, and I gave him a different name. I disguised my voice and everything. He had no idea he was speaking to me on the phone.”
“So you thought he was trying to pull something over on you then by being nice to you after putting a stop on your son’s check.”
“That’s right. I figured he was no better than any other snooty rich person, dangling their money in front of people who really need it, only to yank it away.”
“How did you get him to dunk the strawberry in the macchiato if you weren’t there?”
“Easy. I only gave him two. He ate one—a regular one because I couldn’t chance someone finding a poisoned strawberry on his body or him dying while he was with me. I suggested he eat that one first because it was the bigger of the two. Thankfully, he listened. Then I told him he simply had to wait to eat the other when he could dunk it in the macchiato.”
He had the container in his pocket. That’s why his vitamins fell out when he was in my shop. The container must have knocked the bag out, and he probably threw away the container when he took out the strawberry. There’s a garbage can right outside my shop.
“This was all for Lance,” I say.
“Yes, and what a happy coincidence that there turned out to be more money in the will. I admit I didn’t see that one coming.”
She wouldn’t have because she was under the impression Mr. Cromwell wasn’t as good a person as he actually was.
“But you were wrong about him. Surely, you see that now.”
“I admit the wrong man died. Yes. But that is on his son’s hands.”
No, it’s on yours, you lunatic!
I can hear people in the bank. “What happens now? You can’t just walk out of here with me. There are people in the bank.”
“We are going to walk right out those doors, Joanna. Then you and I will take a little ride and have a little snack.”
“I’m not allergic to shellfish.”
“I have something else that will work just fine on anyone, allergies or no allergies.” She walks over to me and grabs my arm. My phone falls deeper into my purse as I stand. “Now, no sudden moves. Do everything I say, and no one else needs to get hurt. Understood?”
I don’t trust her not to open fire on a bank full of people, so I nod. I’ll figure out how to get away from her once I’m out of the bank.
“Very good.” She grabs her jacket and slips it on, placing the gun inside the right pocket where she can keep a grip on it. “After you.”
I open the door of her office.
“Big smiles now. Don’t want to alert anyone that anything is wrong,” she whispers to me.
I try to keep a neutral expression as I walk into the lobby. To my surprise, not many people are in here, despite Jill wanting to open early because of a crowd. I walk by the center island where you can write out deposit slips and notice the man standing there is angling his head down, but his eyes are up on me. It’s Quentin.
I continue to walk, hoping he has a plan. I’m about three steps past him when he tackles Amanda to the ground. Someone pulls me toward the doors and shields my body with theirs.
“Get off of me! What are you doing?” Amanda yells. “Jill, call the police!”
“Jill’s not here, and I am the police. Arms behind your back,” Quentin tells her.
The officer in front of me turns to face me. “Are you okay, Jo?”
“Officer Stiles, I didn’t recognize you out of uniform.”
“That’s the point of being undercover,” he says with a wink.
Quentin has Amanda on her feet, hands cuffed behind her.
“That’s her gun by the way. Not Lance’s. She’ll tell you the same,” I say, knowing Amanda loves her son enough to lie for him. Poor Lance really doesn’t have a soul left in the world. He needs people on his side.
“That’s right. He was lying to protect me earlier. The gun is mine,” Amanda asserts.
Quentin nods in understanding. He knows Amanda and I are lying, but he’s going to play along. Maybe he’s not such a bad guy after all. A terrible boyfriend but a decent cop who can see when a guy is down on his luck.
Officer Stiles brings me outside. The bank staff is nearest to us since they clearly helped the police pull this off. Mr. Englert rushes over to make sure I’m okay. Once he’s satisfied I am, he thanks Officer Stiles and the other officers who went in posed as customers.
“Jo, I have that check,” Jill says waving a paper at me. “The financial advisor just dropped them off.”
I hold out my hand. “Do you have a pen?” I ask her.
She hands me the check and the pen. “Eager to cash it, I see.”
I turn it over and endorse it. “Actually, I’m signing it over to Lance Tunney.”
Amanda gives a sharp intake of air. “Why? After… Why would you do that?”
“There’s a right and wrong way to help someone. Sherman Cromwell knew that, and so do I.”
Quentin puts her in the patrol car and slams the door. “That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Yes, because I knew it was her when I went in there.” I roll my eyes.
“You didn’t?”
“No. Not until she started talking.”
“Cam recorded the call, so we have her confession on tape,” Quentin says.
“Jo!” Cam yells.
I turn to see the police aren’t letting anyone through, so I rush over to him. He wraps me in a hug.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life. I raced to the station and got Quentin.”
I’m sure it killed him to go to Quentin for help. “Thank you. I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”
“J
o, I need you to come to the station to give a formal statement,” Quentin says.
“Okay. Sure.”
“I’ll drive you,” Cam says.
“Jo!” Mo rushes over to me. “Oh my God. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Really. Cam got the police here in time.”
“They held everyone outside,” Mo says. “I saw it from my office window.”
“What were you doing working on a Saturday morning?” I ask.
“I was doing some pro bono work for Lance. I wanted to help out.”
“The police wanted to go in posing as civilians,” Cam says. “They figured it was their best option for not tipping off Amanda that something was wrong.”
“Yeah, if no one had come in after Jill told Amanda there was a crowd outside, she would have known the police were here, and I… I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Neither do I,” Mo says, hugging me.
Neither Mo nor Cam is willing to let me go anywhere on my own. Mo even comes to the bathroom with me at the station. It reminds me of when we were kids and Mom would send us to the restroom together in public places because there’s safety in numbers.
Quentin takes my statement, and I’m sure to throw in a good word for Lance.
“Lance never knew anything about it. It was all his mother. She thought Gabe was really Sherman on the phone, and she lashed out.”
“How did she pull it all off so quickly, though?” Cam asks.
“According to Lance, his mother takes fish oil. All she really had to do was buy some chocolate-covered strawberries, and her plan was in action within minutes,” Quentin says.
“Lance told me she was really smart, and he was definitely right.”
“She knew just about everything about everyone in town,” Quentin says. “She knew about Cromwell’s allergy. She knew Mary Ellen Reede took fish oil pills. And she knew Alec Whitaker brought Sherman Cromwell gifts when he was here, including chocolate-covered strawberries. She had all that knowledge at the tips of her fingers, and she used it.”
“It’s scary how some people can just snap like that,” Mo says.
“It is. Why don’t you all go home? We’re finished here.” Quentin stands up and walks us to the door. “Jo?”
“I’ll be right there, guys,” I tell Cam and Mo.
They reluctantly go on ahead without me.
“What else can I do for you, Detective? Don’t tell me you need me to solve another case.”
He laughs. “Nothing like that. I wanted to say thank you.”
I raise my brows. “You’re welcome. Now, no offense, but I’ve spent way too much time with you lately, and I want to go home.”
He nods, and I walk away.
Epilogue
Monday morning, Cup of Jo is open for business. I’m calling it my grand opening double shot. I know; my puns might be worse than my parents’. Oh well.
The day is busier than the previous grand opening. I think the entire town came out to support me after all the craziness of the past week. Most wanted to hear me tell them how I caught Amanda Tunney, but the truth is she sort of gave herself up to me in the end. I might not have figured it out if she hadn’t started accusing me of already knowing what she’d done. Either way, I’m just glad it’s over.
By the end of the day, my feet are killing me in the best way possible. I made more money than I could have ever dreamed in one day. And it makes me glad I gave that check to Lance. I’m turning the sign in the window to closed when he comes to the door.
“Am I too late?” he asks me.
I open the door. “Not at all. Come on in.”
Mo and Cam are sitting at one of the tables, drinking coffee. Lance waves to them before following me to the counter.
“What can I get for you?” I ask him. “It’s on the house.”
“No. I came here to thank you. That check… I don’t even know what to say.”
“You can thank Mr. Cromwell. It was his money.”
“But I’m sure you could have used it.” He looks around the shop. “This place looks fantastic. It couldn’t have been cheap.”
“What fun is being in your thirties if you don’t have loans to pay? It makes me feel like a real adult, and that’s something I need to learn to be.”
Mo overhears me and winks. No more running from my problems. I can handle some loans and bills.
“Well, I want to say thank you, and to officially invite you to my grand opening. It’s in a month. I was able to move it up thanks to your check.” He hands me a printed invitation.
“I will be there. You can count on it.”
“And just so you know, your money is never good at S.C. Tunney’s.”
“S.C.?”
“Yeah, I thought it was fitting to name it after Mr. Cromwell as well.”
“That’s really sweet, Lance.” I pour a large coffee and hand it to him. “Your money’s no good here either. We small business owners need to stick together.”
“A barter system. I can get on board with that.” He raises the coffee to me before turning and walking out.
“So, Sis, what do you think? Was it everything you hoped the grand opening would be?” Mo wraps an arm around me.
“And then some. Thanks for your help after work. I feel bad you wound up working here after hours.”
“You can owe me. I say that gives me a free pass the next time you want to slap me.” She dodges me when I pretend to swat at her.
“See you tomorrow,” I say.
“See ya. Bye, Cam.” Her tone implies she knows something I don’t.
“What was that about?” I ask him, wiping down the table and pushing in Mo’s chair.
“I was telling Mo about something I decided to do. Something I’m hoping you’ll be happy about because it’s kind of life changing for me.”
“When did you have time to make life changing decisions?”
“Yesterday. Well, actually, I think I decided it the moment I saw you were okay on Saturday. I realized life is short, and I shouldn’t put things off just because they might be scary. I mean look at you opening this place.”
“It was a big step, and I had a few stumbles, but today’s opening made it all worth it.” I smile and look around at the shop I created.
“You look really happy.”
“I am. I think this is the start of something really good, and I’m ready for it.”
“And things are okay with you, Quentin, and Sam?” he asks, his foot dangling from the bar stool.
“As good as they can be. Sam and I will never be friends again, but I’m okay with being work neighbors.”
“And Quentin?”
“I don’t plan to help him solve any more murders if that’s what you mean.”
“No, I just meant can you handle seeing him every day? With Sam working next door to you, Quentin is bound to show up.”
I pull out the barstool I just pushed in and sit. “You know, I was talking to Lance Friday night, and I realized things worked out pretty well for me. I’m glad I’m not with Quentin anymore. It never would have worked. And if Sam and Quentin make each other happy, good for them.”
“I think you actually mean that.”
“That’s because I do. Mo was right when she blew up at me about running from my problems. I’m thirty years old. It’s time I act like it.”
“I’m with you there, and that’s why I’m taking your advice.”
“And what advice would that be?” I ask, resting the dish towel on the table top.
“The space next to here, that used to sell antiques, just became available last week. I leased it this morning. I’m going to open Cam’s Kitchen right next to Cup of Jo.”
“Cam, that’s great!” I jump up and throw my arms around him in a tight hug, which he returns just as tightly. “I’m so happy for you. I mean I’m sad I’m going to lose your baked goods in my store, but I’m so happy for you. You deserve this.” I pull away a bit, but he continues to hold on to my ha
nds.
“I can still sell you baked goods for Cup of Jo. I don’t want to leave you hanging like that.”
“Don’t be silly. Why would you have your stuff in my shop and your own? Especially when you’re going to be right through that wall.” I point to the wall behind him. “It doesn’t make sense.” An idea pops into my head, and I snap my fingers. “I wonder if we can convince the landlord to let us open the wall between the two places. You know, keep two names but have them connected.”
“They’re already connected on the strip of stores.” He pulls me closer to him. “And I’m not sure it’s a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”
“I don’t understand. We already work together in a way. Why is this different?”
He smiles at me and squeezes my hands. “Come to dinner with me to celebrate,” he says.
“Of course! I’ll call Mo, and we’ll—”
“No. Just us. Like an actual date.”
I open my mouth, but no words come out for several seconds. “But I thought… At my place, you said—”
“I said you didn’t understand what I meant, and I was right. I think you and I confused our feelings for friendship for way too long. And I’m not saying you’re not my friend, because you are. You’re my best friend. But you’re also so much more, Jo.”
I wasn’t wrong about us. There is something there, and he feels it just as much as I do. Mo was right all along. When I don’t speak, a look of concern washes over his face.
“Please tell me I’m not misreading what’s going on between us, because I’ve waited a really long time to say this to you.”
“Why did you wait so long?” I ask. “I tried to tell you—or maybe I was leaving the door open for you to tell me the other day in my apartment complex.”
“I know. I almost did, too, but I had to be sure of something first.”
“What?”
“I had to know you were over Quentin. I couldn’t handle being your rebound guy.”
I remove my right hand from his and hook my index finger under his chin so I can tip his head back gently. “Cam Turner, you are no one’s rebound guy.”
“Is that a yes to dinner?” he asks.
“That’s a yes to dinner.”
Macchiatos and Murder Page 14
