Changes to the Recipe (A Cookie and Cream Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by K. J. Emrick

  “It is,” he said, but Cookie thought he maybe said it just a little bit too quickly.

  His hand was warm in hers. “It will be a big change for you. And, you also have to consider what will happen if we take vacations together. Who will watch the bakery then? Or, the next time we fall into an investigation and have to sit on a stakeout all night long. What then?”

  She stifled a yawn behind her hand. They were watching Zane’s offices from the parking lot across the street and had been all night. After leaving the police department they’d made a quick trip home to pick up Cream, and then Jerry had carefully tucked his car at the very back of the parking lot between a couple of others that had been left here overnight. There were a few apartments above some of the businesses so it wasn’t unusual for cars to be parked here. No one would notice one more.

  Then they waited.

  And waited.

  They were both very sure that the little morsel of information they had passed on in Rosen’s office would bring out the killer. There was no doubt about that. They had said exactly where the money was. Right there, safe in Zane Gillman’s office. This mystery was all about the money. Sheila had drawn her fortune out of the bank to keep it out of someone’s hands, and now that someone would most certainly come looking for it.

  The only question left was who would show up to steal it.

  “My money’s still on Ed Rosen,” Jerry said into the silence, and it wasn’t lost on Cookie how he had dropped the title of ‘chief’ from Rosen’s name.

  “And I’m still certain,” she said in turn, “that I’m right.”

  They waited some more in silence. Either way, this was soon to be over.

  The sun was starting to come up. The sky above them was starting to brighten to a deep blue with orange highlights on the clouds. The town would be waking up soon. They’d watched over Zane’s place of business all night, under the glow of the streetlamps, and no one had come. If anything was going to happen, it was going to happen now.

  Cream stirred in his sleep, kicking his back leg, chasing butterflies in his dreams.

  Jerry turned on the radio, flipped through more than a dozen stations, and then shut it off again.

  As the sun got higher, the streetlights shut off. A few cars drove down the street. Soon the businesses would be opening up.

  “Maybe we were wrong,” Cookie said with a heavy sigh. “Maybe it won’t happen today.”

  Cream popped his eyes open, cocking one ear. Then he jumped up and put his feet against the dash to stare through the window with them, and barked.

  “What is it?” Cookie asked him. “What do you see?”

  “Not what,” Jerry pointed. “Who.”

  From down the street a man came walking. He was in a suit almost exactly like the one Cookie had last seen him wearing, carrying a briefcase up against his chest as if it was a bulletproof vest.

  “It’s Zane.” Cookie picked up Cream by his torso and settled him back in her lap. “I guess that’s it, then. I suppose our suspect won’t try to do this with Zane here?”

  “No, I don’t think he will,” Jerry agreed reluctantly. “We’ll have to come back tonight and watch again. We knew the bait might not get taken right away. Might take a day or two for this to work. For now, I guess we’d better go tell Zane what’s going on.”

  Another few days. Cookie supposed there was nothing she could do about it. This was too important to give up after just one sleepless night. It might be the only way they could prove who killed Sheila. So, for her friend, she would sit here in this car, night after night, for as long as it took.

  Well. She and Jerry would have to take turns. He might be retired, but she still had a business to run!

  Wait a minute. Was that…?

  “Hold on.” She caught hold of Jerry’s arm as he was about to start the car again. “Look!”

  Another person had come walking fast down the sidewalk. As Zane went up to the front steps of his office and fumbled for the keys in his pocket, the figure rushed in quick and slammed him up against the door. They couldn’t see what happened next, but Cookie could tell it wasn’t pleasant.

  The killer had shown up to claim Sheila’s money.

  “Stay here,” Jerry said as he threw himself out of the car and raced across the parking lot. Cookie knew he wasn’t armed. He’d turned in his gun to Ed Rosen. All he had to confront the killer with was… himself.

  And he’d told her to stay here.

  As if.

  When she opened the door on her side, Cream jumped out and raced ahead of her, as if he knew there was trouble and he wasn’t about to be left out of it.

  Cookie ran as fast as her legs would carry her, but Cream was much faster. He was across the street and up the steps before even Jerry could reach Zane. Cookie watched with a mix of worry and amusement as Cream bit the bad guy on the ankle. The man cried out and let go of Zane, a punch that he’d been about to throw going wild and hitting the stone wall of the building instead.

  He looked down at the little dog barking at him, and Cookie saw him cursing and lifting his leg back to kick her friend. She was too far away to help him. She wouldn’t get there in time.

  But Jerry did.

  The collision between him and Cream’s would-be attacker was colossal. Cookie could almost hear the crunch of bones from halfway across the street as Jerry rammed a shoulder into the man and knocked him off his feet, off the steps, to the ground. Then he was on the guy again. Turning him over face up, he pressed a knee down on the guy’s chest even though it was obvious the fight was over.

  Cookie swept Cream up in her arms and held him tight. “Good dog. Good boy! I’m so proud of you.”

  Zane was panting and shaking, rubbing an unsteady hand over his forehead. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Yeah,” Jerry said, pointing down at the man he had just tackled. “That’s what I want to know. Who in God’s name is this?”

  The man’s eyelids were fluttering as he tried to stay conscious and not pass out. Cookie remembered that coppery red hair, and that heavy jawline. She’d only seen him a few times before, and then he’d left Widow’s Rest.

  As far as she knew, he’d been in Canada ever since.

  “I know who it is,” she told them. “Let’s call the police to come and collect him, and I’ll explain the whole thing.”

  “What you need to remember,” Cookie said, “is that Sheila hasn’t had a serious boyfriend in… oh, a few years now. Her last steady boyfriend left her after a bad breakup and I think my friend didn’t want to go through that again. While they were together, though, oh my. Sheila was certain she had found her next husband. She wanted him to be a part of every aspect of her life. Including her finances. So, she wrote him into her will.”

  “That’s the Canadian bank account number we found,” Jerry added. They had pieced everything together once Cookie had identified Zane’s attacker as Jarvis Seaton, one time boyfriend of Sheila Tucker.

  To hear Cookie tell the tale, he was more than just an ex-boyfriend for Sheila. He was someone special. At least, until he broke her heart. Even so, she’d kept him in her will, and that said a lot about Sheila’s feelings for Jarvis right there.

  Quinn nodded thoughtfully. Her almond eyes were unreadable. They were in her office again, telling the story of what had happened to Sheila Tucker. They had already given their statements to the uniformed officers who responded to Jerry’s call and now, several hours later, Jarvis was in custody, Grayson DeBeers was released, and they had been personally requested to meet with Mayor Quinn Fieldberg for coffee and a very lengthy explanation.

  Ordinarily Cream wouldn’t be allowed in the town hall but under the circumstances, Quinn had made an exception this time. After all, Cream was a hero for helping to arrest Jarvis. He sighed happily in his spot on the floor between their chairs and laid down with his head on his paws. He wasn’t used to all this excitement.

  Cookie smiled at Jerry. She�
��d won their bet. It was a very small consolation considering the death that had gotten them all to this point, but she felt like Sheila would approve.

  “But I still don’t understand,” Quinn asked them, spreading her hands wide apart to emphasize her confusion. “How did you know it was Jarvis who killed her? How did you even know he was in town?”

  “I didn’t,” Cookie said. “At least, not at first. You see, I was thinking about Jarvis just the other day, when Jerry and I first went to Sheila’s apartment after she died. Losing my friend brought up a lot of memories. I was thinking about Sheila’s life, and Jarvis came to mind, and how he’d moved away to Canada after breaking up with her. It was nothing more than a memory at the time but then Jerry discovered that Sheila had left money in her will to someone with a Canadian bank account. That’s when it clicked.”

  “Just yesterday,” Quinn reminded her, “the two of you sat in my office convinced that Chief Ed Rosen was our killer.”

  “Uh, actually,” Jerry said apologetically, “to be fair, that was just me who was convinced of that. Cookie had her doubts. She followed them, and they led her to the truth.”

  Quinn arched an eyebrow in that way she had, reminding him that was almost exactly what she had said herself right here in this very office. A good mayor helps people come to the truth themselves. Well. Quinn was a very good mayor indeed. Cookie definitely thought so.

  “Then,” the mayor asked, “if you weren’t sure that Jarvis was in town, how did you know that he would be there to try taking the money from Zane?”

  “Oh, that was simple,” Jerry told her. “We just went into Rosen’s office and told him and his lackeys Mason and Cassandra that the money was with Zane. We knew that Mason and Cassandra can’t keep a secret. I have no doubt that they started talking about what happened to the money just as soon as we left the station. See, I figured it would be Rosen who took the bait. Instead, Mason and Cassandra spread my bait a little further until word got around to Jarvis. Probably, if I had to guess, while Mason was drinking in the Old Crow Bar.”

  “That’s what I was counting on,” Cookie nodded. “We knew Mason liked to drink at the bar, so we were just waiting for word to get out. I was sure Jarvis was back, and I knew he would be listening for any hint of where the money was since he couldn’t find it in Sheila’s apartment or in Amanda’s house. He came back, and he killed Sheila for her money, and… and…”

  A few tears fell down her face, but with an effort she kept the rest of them back. Jerry’s hand on her shoulder gave her strength.

  “I see.” Quinn settled back into her leather chair, folding her hands over her stomach. “You two have certainly been busy. And you did all this against Chief Rosen’s strict instructions?”

  Jerry looked a little uncomfortable at that suggestion. “Well, yes. I suppose we did, but there were reasons. Like we explained to you—”

  “I’ve heard what you said, Jerry. You as well, Cookie. My question was simple. Did you do all of this against Chief Rosen’s express instructions?”

  There was no other answer for that except the truth. “Yes. We did.”

  “I see. And, lest we forget, you also accused the chief of being a murderer.”

  “Again, yes, but based on Ed’s behavior I knew… or rather, I felt like there was something suspicious going on. He sent his guys to break into Cookie’s apartment. He ignored evidence. He left a key witness who was terrified for her own safety unguarded. There was absolutely nothing professional about his behavior in any of this and frankly, Mayor, he’s never cared much about his position as police chief except for how it can benefit him.”

  Quinn waited for him to finish. “That was quite a lot for you to say, all at the same time Jerry. You’re usually a man of such few words.”

  “Yes, I suppose I am, but I have very strong feelings about the police department and how it’s run.”

  “Indeed you do. You’ve been keeping this in for a while, haven’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Yes.”

  “Is it these feelings that made you disobey your boss?”

  He sighed, and looked down at the desktop. “Yes. I admit that I went against his instructions.”

  With that, Quinn gave a firm nod and leaned over to push a button on the front of the phone sitting on her desk. There was a little beep, and then the voice of her very young, very male secretary came over the intercom.

  “Yes, Miss Mayor?”

  “Send him in, Jonathan.”

  She looked up at Jerry and Cookie and their confused expressions, and sighed. “I have to confess, I asked the two of you to come here for a couple of different reasons. I wanted to hear all about this case, certainly, but there was something else. I brought you here so that I could fire someone.”

  Jerry’s face went pale. Cookie squeezed his hand, willing him to feel the comforting thoughts she was sending his way. They had known this was a possibility when they started looking into the mystery of Sheila’s death. They’d known it might come down to this and they’d done it anyway, because it was the right thing to do.

  But Jerry was so close to retiring! Couldn’t they just let him stay on a few more days and leave with his pension and his reputation intact?

  When the door opened, they turned to see Chief Ed Rosen stride into the office, and Cookie felt her hopes sink. That was that. If Quinn was taking Rosen’s side, what chance did Jerry have?

  With a sneer that took in not only Jerry and Cookie, but Quinn too, Rosen pulled that same chair over that he’d sat in the last time they were all in this room. Settling it at the side of Quinn’s desk, he sat in it backward, folding his arms over the backrest. “So here we are.” With a gleeful smile, he drummed his fingers. “You know why I’m here, Mayor. I want this man fired. I want him off my force immediately. I’m through with his slander and his cowboy tactics. I want him gone!”

  “That’s why I brought us all together,” Quinn assured him. “I know what you said when you called me, Chief. I just wanted to see, one last time, if there was any way that we could settle this. Perhaps we could talk it out.”

  “No way,” he insisted. “I have talked all I’m going to. No matter what I say, he thinks he knows better. He doesn’t run this department. I do! In my department, there’s only one way. Mine!”

  “I see,” Quinn said. She smiled at him, and turned to look at Jerry.

  Cookie squeezed Jerry’s hand. Between them, Cream stood up. He knew something was going on. With a little whine, he put his paw up on Jerry’s shoe.

  Quinn’s eyes continued to study Jerry, dark and depthless, revealing nothing of what she was thinking.

  Then she turned to Chief Rosen.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Ed, but I understand. I’m afraid you’re fired.”

  The smile slid away from Rosen’s face. “Wait… me? You’re firing me?”

  “Yes. I am.” Quinn stood up from her chair, managing to tower over Rosen despite her shorter height. “You completely botched this investigation. Every time Jerry, or Cookie, came to you with important evidence you ignored it. You put Amanda Tucker’s life in danger. Two of your officers broke into Cookie’s home, either under your express instructions or with your consent.”

  “Now hold on just a minute,” he sputtered.

  Quinn held up her hand, and that silenced him again. “You have consistently acted in a way that has brought disgrace on your department and this town, not just in this case but in others in the past. You have shown disrespect to the people of Widow’s Rest and even my own office. More than that, I believe you’re right. In your department, there’s only one way of doing things. That’s the problem.” She hesitated only a moment before making it official. “You’ve worked for this town for less than a year, and I have the right to fire you without a hearing within your first year, per your contract. So. You’re fired. I will give you until the end of this week to clear out your property from your office. As far as your duties for this town, you are relieved
of them. Effective immediately.”

  Cookie watched as those words sank in. Rosen had never looked so small in her eyes. He’d been knocked off that high pedestal of his and now he didn’t know what to do.

  “That’s all,” Quinn said to him. “You can go now.”

  “Hold on now. Let me at least lay out my reasons for all this.”

  “You’ve done so. Saying them again won’t change a thing. Ed, a good chief leads by example. He makes people want to follow him through a sense of loyalty and friendship. You seem to be waging a campaign of terror against your own people. Who knows what you would do to the people in this town if I allowed you to stay? I’m sorry, but my decision is final. You’re relieved from office. Please leave.”

  He rose from his chair slowly, looking from Quinn, to Cookie, and then to Jerry. Something close to pure hatred burned in those eyes. “You’ll pay for this, Stansted.” He turned stiffly away from them, making his way back to the door. When it was open he stopped just long enough to look over his shoulder. “You’ll all pay for this!”

  Then he was gone.

  “That,” Quinn said thoughtfully, “is a very unpleasant man.”

  Jerry chuckled. “That’s an understatement, Mayor Fieldberg. I don’t suppose there’s a Mohawk saying that covers that?”

  “Of course there is,” she said with a little smile. “I’ll tell it to you sometime. For now, I’m more concerned with the vacancy I just created in the police department. I’ll need someone to take over, and soon.”

  Her eyes never left Jerry’s face.

  Cookie gasped when she understood what Quinn was saying.

  “Me?” Jerry asked in disbelief. “Mayor, I’m retiring.”

  “But you aren’t retired yet,” she pointed out to him. “In fact, if I remember what you said correctly, you were going to use up two weeks of your vacation time. So, technically, you’re still employed by Widow’s Rest as a police officer. I can make a temporary appointment to the position of police chief until an election can be held. I checked the rules before I called you to come in.”