Apple Pie With A Side Of Murder

by Meredith Potts

  While my heart was nearly beating out of my chest, David didn’t seem bothered by the speed in the least. Nor was his driving affected. He kept steady hold of the wheel, as if he was a seasoned race car driver instead of a police detective.

  Not surprisingly, David and I ended up making it to the restaurant in record time. My quickened pulse could certainly attest to that. When David finally parked at the restaurant, I had to take a moment to calm myself down. A few deep breaths usually did the trick.

  Despite the fact that David had burned rubber getting over to Home Away From Home Cooking, we were far from being the first investigators on the scene. A number of squad cars were parked out front, as was the department’s forensics van.

  There was so much police activity on the scene that the cars in the parking lot that stood out were the ones that weren’t affiliated with the police department. I only saw two cars that fit that bill. They were both sedans. One was dark blue, which I recognized as Clarissa’s car. The other was light green. I had no idea who that vehicle belonged to, nor did I spend time thinking about it.

  My focus turned to Clarissa’s car. I had hoped that her car wouldn’t be in the lot. That if there had been a homicide, that it wouldn’t have involved her in any way.

  A shiver went down my spine as I stared at Clarissa’s dark-blue sedan. That was followed by a really bad feeling in my gut. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but fear the worst.

  As I got out of David’s car, I began to feel queasy. I clutched my stomach.

  Concern was all over David’s face as he glanced at me. “You feeling all right?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  He looked at me with great sympathy. “Do you want to stay in the car?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I knew he was just being a concerned boyfriend, but he didn’t seem to realize something. No matter how queasy I felt, no matter how much my stomach tied itself into knots, my curiosity was insatiable.

  “I need to see what happened here.”

  “Okay,” David said. “Suit yourself.”

  After taking a few deep breaths, I was able to calm myself down enough to head inside the restaurant.

  My heart rate didn’t return to normal for long.

  When David and I entered the back of the restaurant, a grisly sight awaited us in the kitchen. I gasped as I looked at the tile floor and saw something that shook me to my core.

  “No!” I yelled.

  Clarissa’s lifeless body was on the ground. A pool of blood was beneath her. Beside her body was a bloodstained knife.

  I quickly averted my eyes. A horrific sight like that was just too much to bear. I had only taken a brief glance at Clarissa’s body, but I felt like that terrifying image would be seared into my mind forever.

  That wasn’t all. The queasiness I had felt back in the car was nothing. My stomach had found all new knots to tie itself into.

  I wasn’t alone in that sentiment. David was uncharacteristically quiet. Unlike me, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. He stood silently beside me, staring at the scene with his eyes as wide as saucers.

  My voice cracked as I spoke. “I can’t believe it.”

  David turned to me with sympathetic eyes. “I’m so sorry. This is just awful.”

  “It’s more than that. This is unconscionable. Who would do something like this?”

  “A sick and twisted individual, that’s who.”

  I grimaced. “Why do murders keep happening in this town?”

  “I wish I had an answer for that.”

  “I was just starting to believe that things could go back to normal around here,” I said. “Then this happens. To Clarissa, of all people.”

  “I wish I could tell you why disturbing things like this keep happening.”

  “I just wish that disturbing things like this would stop happening.”

  “That, too. Unfortunately, they seem to keep happening with alarming frequency.”

  My focus switched to the bloodstained knife on the floor. I squinted as a theory came to my mind. “I wonder if this had something to do with what happened last night.”

  David scrunched his nose. “You mean, the argument that Clarissa had with her employee?”

  “Former employee.”

  “Right.”

  I looked off into the distance. “Or maybe it has to do with the confrontation she had with her husband.”

  He rubbed his chin. “That could be. It’s too early to tell.”

  “It’s crazy.”

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Her body was just found and there’s already no shortage of leads.”

  “No. I meant that it’s crazy how we just talked to her last night and now she’s…dead.” I took a moment to catch my breath. “I mean, if we would’ve known something like this was going to happen—”

  He waggled his pointer finger back and forth at me. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “I had a hunch that more was going on than she let on.”

  “Sabrina, you’re being too hard on yourself. It’s one thing to be able to spot when someone is having problems. It’s another to act like you had any way of being able to predict that something like this was going to happen.”

  “Maybe if I had asked her more questions—”

  “She didn’t want to answer the ones you did ask her,” David said. “The fact is, you did all you could.”

  “I know you’re trying to help, but—”

  “No one can predict when a murder is about to occur. That’s the kind of thing that happens in a science fiction book.”

  “I guess you’re right. This is just so incredibly disturbing.”

  “I know. But neither you nor I could have done anything to have predicted this,” David said. “This is the work of a deranged killer.”

  “Deranged is right. Whoever did this is seriously twisted.”

  A look of determination came to David’s eyes. “That’s why I’m not going to stop until the killer is behind bars.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  David and I waited impatiently as the medical examiner gave the body a quick preliminary scan. The examiner, Eric Stewart, looked like he had hit the snooze button on his alarm clock a few times too many that morning. The telltale signs of oversleeping were all there. He was wearing mismatched socks, his white button-down shirt had been haphazardly tucked in, and it seemed like he was wearing his backup pair of glasses.

  That wasn’t all. What was left of the pear-shaped fifty-one-year-old’s hair did not appear to have been combed. It was not a flattering look for him, unless he was trying to do an impersonation of a mad scientist.

  Not that Eric seemed to be even the least bit concerned by any of this. He just went about his business, examining the body. That was for the best. In light of Clarissa’s death, all of my random observations about Eric’s askew appearance were completely frivolous.

  The only reason I even noticed them in the first place was because I was trying my best to avoid looking at Clarissa again. Seeing her body on the ground like that was just too disturbing of a sight for me.

  Thankfully, Eric finished his preliminary exam a few minutes later, so my focus could shift to the facts of the matter. Eric briefly conferred with a member of the forensics team, then he approached David.

  “What have you got for us?” David asked.

  “Bear in mind these are all just preliminary findings,” Eric said.

  “Preliminary results or not, what can you tell us?” David asked.

  Eric glanced at David with a discouraged look in his eyes. “Unfortunately, not much that you don’t already know.”

  “So this is exactly how it looks? Death by stabbing?” David asked.

  “It is,” Eric said.

  “Okay.”

  “Did you expect me to tell you any different?”

  David shook his head. “No. I just wanted to be sure.”

  “There’s no doubt in
my mind that the victim died of stab wounds that came from the knife we found next to her body.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “Nothing that you’re going to like.”

  “What’s the matter? Did forensics not find any prints on that knife?” David asked.

  Eric shook his head. “Not even a partial.”

  David groaned. “Of course not.”

  “I’m guessing the killer was wearing gloves—” Eric started to say.

  “Or they wiped the knife clean before they left.” David glanced around. “What about the rest of kitchen? The whole place can’t have been wiped clean.”

  “The rest of the kitchen poses a much different problem. There are prints everywhere. It’s going to take a while to sort through them all. But that’s not even the worst part.”

  “What is?”

  “Say we’re able to identify every set of prints. It doesn’t change the fact that the murder weapon is clean. Unfortunately, that means we have no way of distinguishing whether one of these other fingerprints belongs to the killer or just one of the many employees of this restaurant.”

  David squinted. “Unless one of these prints belongs to someone who doesn’t work for the restaurant.”

  “You’re right.”

  “That’s why it’s important to run every set of prints through the system.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then again, if the killer works at this restaurant, we’ll be staring down a whole new set of problems,” David said.

  “You sure will,” Eric replied.

  David took a deep breath. “Enough about that for now. Do you have the time of death?”

  “It’s looking like between eleven and midnight,” Eric said.

  “Okay,” David said. “Do you have anything else for me?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  David’s eyes widened. “That’s it?”

  “I warned you I didn’t have much.”

  “All right. Well, keep me updated.”

  “Will do,” Eric said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was deep in thought when David pulled my head out of the clouds.

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear,” David said.

  I stared at the walls of the kitchen as I replied, “It sure would have been nice if they had found prints on the knife. But when has a murder case ever been that easy to solve?”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” David said. “Besides, you’d never hear me complain about an open-and-shut case.” He let out a sigh. “If I ever came across one.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  My lack of eye contact with him did not go unnoticed.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that there are no security cameras in this restaurant.”

  “I noticed that, too.”

  “That’s a shame. Talk about an open-and-shut case. If there was even one security camera back here, you could be on your way to arrest the killer.”

  “Not necessarily,” David said.

  My forehead wrinkled. “I’m not following.”

  “Say there was a security camera back here. Don’t you think a killer who was smart enough not to leave fingerprints on the murder weapon would also be sure not to murder someone in plain view of a camera?”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “My guess is that if there was a camera here, the killer would have drawn Clarissa outside. Or they would have followed her home and killed her there.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” I said. “But it’s a moot point, anyway, since there are no cameras here to speak of.”

  “True.”

  I scrunched my nose as I looked at the wall again. “As careful as the killer was about making sure the knife didn’t have any prints on it, they weren’t as careful in other areas.”

  “How so?” David asked.

  I turned my focus to the murder weapon. “This knife doesn’t match.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I pointed at the wall where a set of half a dozen kitchen knives hung against a magnetic strip. “All the knives in this kitchen are part of a set…except the murder weapon.”

  David looked at the murder weapon, which was a white-handled, seven-inch kitchen knife. He then looked at the set of white-handled kitchen knives that were hanging on the wall. “Are you sure?”

  I pointed at a label on the knife that was used to kill Clarissa. “There’s a really subtle difference, but it’s there. For example, this was made by Schneider’s Knife Company.” I moved over to the wall and pointed to a label of one of the knives that hung on the magnetic strip. “But the knives in this set were made by The O’Callahan Company.”

  “Good catch,” David said. “But what does it mean?”

  “I’m still working on that, but there’s something else you have to see first.”

  “What is it?”

  “Look at these knives on the wall again. The blades are starting to dull a little. The handles are not the vibrant white they used to be when they were brand-new.”

  “Well yeah. I’m sure these knives are used constantly.”

  “But look at the murder weapon. Now, look beyond the bloodstain. The blade of this knife is very sharp. In addition, the handle is vibrant white like it just came out of the packaging.”

  “Wait. So you’re telling me that you think the killer went out and bought a new knife to kill Clarissa with?” David asked.

  I nodded. “That’s my working theory. I’m sure they just assumed that you’d be so focused on the bloodstain that you wouldn’t notice that it is a completely different brand of knife.”

  “You could be right.”

  “That’s not all. I think it’s really notable that the killer used a knife as the murder weapon in the first place. After all, you can kill someone from a distance with a gun, but you have to get pretty close to them to be able to stab them with a knife.”

  “True.”

  “Then there’s the fact that the killer left the murder weapon at the scene of the crime next to the body. I mean, the murderer was meticulous enough to make sure that no prints were left on the knife, so you’d think they would have brought the knife with them and disposed of it elsewhere. Unless they wanted the knife to be found.”

  “Why do you think they did that?”

  “To make it seem like someone in the restaurant was the killer,” I said.

  David bit the corner of his lip. “Does that mean that you think someone who is not affiliated with the restaurant did this?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure about that. What I am confident about is that this knife is new. The killer wanted a fresh blade that was clean of prints and that would stay that way.”

  David put his pointer finger up. “Let me just play devil’s advocate for a second. Say this is a new knife. Do you know how many stores sell knives like this in this town?”

  I became pensive. “Probably about twenty.”

  “I imagine at least that many. Now just say we were able to track down where the knife was bought, and who bought it—which, by the way, is a near impossibility.”

  “Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel,” I deadpanned.

  He chuckled. “I’m just being honest.”

  “Brutally honest.”

  “In the spirit of honesty, let’s say we were able to beat the odds and track down who purchased the knife. Ultimately, we couldn’t legally do much with that information. You heard the medical examiner. The murder weapon has no prints on it. The purchaser of the knife could just claim that the knife was stolen from them prior to the murder.”

  “Who would buy that story?”

  “I’ve seen juries buy crazier stories than that. But, like I said, the odds of tracking down who bought this common kitchen knife is infinitesimally small. Especially if the killer paid cash.”

  I groaned. “I know that.”
>
  “I’m sorry. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s just the truth.”

  “I get it.”

  “You did bring up some interesting points, though,” he said.

  “Unfortunately, I have yet to piece together what they all mean,” I replied.

  Before David had a chance to respond, one of his deputies approached him.

  “Detective,” Deputy Mitchell said.

  David turned around and glanced at the deputy. “What is it?”

  “There’s someone you need to talk to,” Mitchell replied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Julie Lambert didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk to anyone, much less a police detective. The curvy forty-two-year-old looked pretty shattered. She winced, which made the freckles on her face stretch a little. Julie was also quite nervous. To the point where she kept running her fingers through her long red hair.

  “If I understand correctly, you’re the one who discovered the body. Is that right, Ms. Lambert?” David asked.

  Julie nodded. “Yes…unfortunately.” The corners of her lips turned down. “I can’t believe someone would do something so horrible.”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said. “It takes a real twisted mind to do something like this.”

  David pulled a pen and a small notepad from his pocket. “If you could, please walk us through how you found the body.”

  “Well, I arrived for my opening shift about thirty-five minutes ago. I went around to the back of the restaurant, just like I always do. Only this morning, instead of having to unlock the back door myself, I saw that it was already open,” Julie said.

  “Has that ever happened before?” David asked.

  Julie shook her head. “No.”

  David scribbled a note down on his pad. “Then what happened?”

  “I called out ‘hello’ but didn’t get an answer. A few seconds later, I went inside the restaurant. That’s when I spotted Clarissa on the floor,” Julie said.