by Hillary Avis
“I’ve been going over the night again and again in my head, trying to figure out her movements. Amara definitely helped me during the demo. She handed me vegetable skewers—I remember that—and she helped me serve soup when it was done. Then the church bells rang to announce the beginning of the gala, so Todd was still alive then. And Amara didn’t leave the table until she got the phone call from her sister and left. Nobody saw Todd during the entire night, so he must have been killed right after he rang the bells.”
Kimmy gasped. “Maybe that’s how the killer knew where he was!”
“We have to tell Charley and Coop about all this stuff tomorrow.” Bethany cleared the plates and rinsed them in the sink. “Maybe we should bring them some doughnuts. I made some pretty great ones during my interview at Hole Foods.”
Kimmy giggled and pushed back her chair. “That’s a little on the nose, don’t you think? They might be offended.”
“We’ll call them beignets, since you’re a French chef.” Bethany grinned mischievously. “We can mix up the dough tonight.”
Kimmy nodded, but she hardly seemed to be paying attention. She got up and peered behind the couch in the living room. “Hey, did you put Sharky out on the patio when you came home?”
Bethany shook her head. “No, I totally forgot about him!”
“Uh oh.” Kimmy slowly turned to look at her. “Then where is he?”
A crash echoed from the back of the cottage, and both women dashed toward the noise. “The bathroom!”
When she entered the tiny bathroom, Bethany immediately spotted Sharky cowering in the tub. Normally the shower curtain would have concealed him, but the curtain had been shredded from the floor to about three feet up—as high as Sharky could reach when he stood on the edge of the tub, she imagined.
“Oh holy heck,” Kimmy breathed behind her. “How did that tiny little dog do all of this?”
Bethany looked around. Not only was half the shower curtain in tiny pieces all over the floor, but the roll of toilet paper was mangled beyond recognition and all the towels were missing corners. To top things off, both their toothbrushes were on the floor and bore distinct tiny teeth-marks.
Bethany started to giggle, and then she couldn’t stop. Sharky wagged his tail hopefully as he stared at the two of them, and that set Kimmy off, too. They laughed and laughed until Bethany’s stomach hurt.
Chapter 22
Friday
WAY TOO EARLY IN THE morning, Kimmy and Bethany worked together to shape and fry the beignets while they drank their coffee. In the corner of the kitchen, Sharky gnawed happily on a soup bone Bethany dug out of the freezer for him. She’d been saving it for stock, but in the interest of the rest of their possessions, she figured she’d sacrifice it to the dog.
“One of us has to dog-sit him today,” Kimmy declared as she watched him gnaw away at it. “I don’t want that to be my shoes next.”
Bethany nodded in agreement as she dropped a few more beignets into the pan of hot oil. “If you take him this morning, I’ll watch him while you’re at work.”
Sharky dropped the bone, jumped to his feet, and started barking insistently.
“It’s OK, pup, I promise to be nice.”
Kimmy rinsed the flour off her hands and dried them. “He’s barking at the paper. I just heard it land on the porch.” She went to retrieve the paper while Bethany poked at the beignets. They were perfectly golden, and Bethany closed her eyes momentarily, imagining what they were going to be like when they were done—crispy outside, soft and pillowy inside, dusted with powdered sugar. Sweet little clouds that would melt in the mouth.
When she opened her eyes to check on the beignets, she noticed Kimmy casually stuffing the newspaper between the couch cushions.
“What are you doing?” She looked back at the pan in front of her—the beignets had risen to the surface and were ready to come out. She moved them to paper towels to drain and plopped in a few more squares of raw dough. “Another batch done. We’re close to being finished.”
“Great. I’ll just grab a shower, and then we can go. Do you mind frying up the last few without me?”
“Nope.” Bethany sprinkled the beignets with powdered sugar and waited until Kimmy had left the room, then grabbed the newspaper from the couch. It was obvious that Kimmy had tried to hide it from her, or at least didn’t want to be around when she read whatever was in there.
She unfolded the paper and sat down at the kitchen table.
DEVELOPMENT DERAILED
By Robin Ricketts
Newbridge, CT—The much-anticipated 50-unit condo building planned for the site of the old church on the Hosanna Street has been jettisoned. The death of developer Todd Luna at Wednesday night’s gala celebrating the project permanently ended plans for the development.
Mayor Strauss expressed regret. “The development would have attracted young tech workers to an aging neighborhood and infused our city with much-needed cash.”
Residents of the neighborhood visited the scene of the crime to leave flowers and handwritten cards praising the victim.
“He was a nice kid,” said longtime Hosanna Street homeowner George Washington as he placed a bouquet of wildflowers at the base of the bell tower. “He will be missed.”
Bethany Bradstreet, ex-girlfriend of the victim, disagreed. “Todd was mostly interested in making money,” she said. “He had a million enemies in town.”
Police are still investigating the crime.
EVEN WORSE THAN I THOUGHT it’d be. So much for a truce with Robin. She’d been stupid to talk to her with that tape recorder running. She pitched the newspaper in the recycling bin.
Kimmy came back looking sheepish. “I tried to keep the water off the floor, but it was tough with only half a shower curtain!” She grinned at Bethany, but her face fell when she saw Bethany’s expression. “You read the paper?”
“Yup.”
“Still want to take your photos to the reporter?”
“Nope. I think she wants to be the one to drive the murderer out into the open, and she doesn’t care who gets hurt along the way. The only thing that will make this go away is solving the case.”
Kimmy nodded sympathetically.
Bethany sighed. I can’t count on anyone to salvage my reputation but myself. And the only way to do that is to solve this crime.
Chapter 23
Friday
BETHANY AND KIMMY STOWED two baskets of beignets and one churlish chihuahua into the back of the Honda and drove down to the Newbridge Police Station. It was an old-fashioned building, clad in local limestone and brick, and Bethany felt very nervous as she looked up at it while they unloaded their goodies.
“He only ate two!” Kimmy said triumphantly, as she snapped a leash on Sharky’s collar.
Bethany chuckled. “Make sure there’s no dog drool on any of the others!” She looped the other basket over her arm and headed for the imposing front doors of the station.
“We’re here to see Officer Cooper,” Kimmy told the deputy at the front desk, a woman with close-cropped red hair and rosy cheeks.
“Out of the office. He’ll be back around two.”
Bethany looked at Kimmy, and then back to the deputy. “We have information to report related to the Todd Vega case. And beignets, if you’d like one.”
The deputy pushed back her chair and stood up to reach into Bethany’s basket. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” She spotted Sharky and did a double-take. “Is that a dog or a doughnut?”
“He may have eaten one or two in the car.” Kimmy giggled and brushed some powdered sugar off the top of his head. Sharky shook, sending a cloud of sugar flying all around him.
“Glad he saved one for me—this is delicious.” The deputy munched on the beignet and motioned for them to follow her down the hall.
“Folks to see you, Charley,” she said, knocking on an already-open door. Charley jumped to her feet when she saw them, straightening her uniform. “It’s about the Luna case. And
they have doughnuts.”
“Thanks, Mariah.”
The deputy nodded and left.
“Beignets, actually,” Kimmy said, holding out her basket. When Charley reached for one, Sharky growled and charged at her feet.
“Hey! Ow!” Charley shook Sharky off and looked down, dismayed. “This little guy is a menace.”
Kimmy grimaced. “Sorry. He’s very protective. Usually of my aunt, but I guess since she’s in New Orleans, he—”
“Amara Caldwell is in New Orleans?” Charley’s eyes widened. Sharky made another lunge for her pant leg, and she jumped backward.
“Sorry!” Kimmy said again. “So sorry. I’m really embarrassed.” She set the basket on Charley’s desk and stepped to the back of the room. She scooped up Sharky and held him firmly under her arm. “Take one now—take two. I’ll make sure Sharky behaves.”
Charley picked one up, raised it in thanks, shrugged, and took a bite. “Oh, wow. Wow. You made these?”
Bethany nodded. “Kimmy’s family recipe. Her aunt grew up in New Orleans and brought the beignet recipe with her when she came to Connecticut.”
“To answer your question, that’s why she’s in New Orleans now—to see her sister, Pearl,” Kimmy added quickly. “That’s why she left the gala so quickly. Pearl is really sick.”
Charley crammed the rest of the beignet in her mouth and grabbed a pencil from the desk. She jotted a few notes in her notepad as she chewed and swallowed. “How do you know this? She contacted you?”
Kimmy nodded. “She called and left a message while I was at work.”
“You have the number on caller ID?”
Bethany shook her head. “We don’t have caller ID. Costs an extra five bucks, and nobody calls our landline anyway. Not usually.”
“I have the address,” Kimmy offered. “Great-aunt Pearl doesn’t have a phone at home. Auntie probably called from a pay phone. She left her cell at our cottage by accident.”
Charley grabbed another beignet and grumbled to herself while she ate it. She finished, licked her fingers, and said, “I have to admit, I’m shocked you came forward with this. It really shows character.”
She smiled at Kimmy, and Bethany was surprised to see Kimmy blush as she smiled back. Aw, cute—Kimmy must have a little crush on Officer Perez.
“Thanks. I—I just want to help.”
“This is very helpful. I’ll be in touch with the New Orleans police so they can make the arrest, and then we’ll figure out how to transport her back here.” Charley grabbed a third beignet.
“The arrest?!” Kimmy sank into the chair by the door. She was so surprised that she forgot about holding Sharky, and the dog leaped to the floor and ran toward Charley again, leash dragging behind him. Charley yelped and jumped on top of her desk, throwing the beignet at Sharky in an attempt to slow the dog’s attack.
Sharky barked and barked, racing around the desk, while Charley grabbed more beignets from the basket to pelt the dog. Bethany cracked up laughing. Kimmy sat frozen in her chair, still looking horrified, as she watched the scene play out.
“Control your dog!” Charley yelled. “If he bites me, I’ll bite back!”
The image of Charley biting a dog-shaped doughnut popped into Bethany’s head, and she howled even harder.
Kimmy dove for the end of Sharky’s leash and reeled him back in. When she finally got him under control, she had tears in her eyes, and they weren’t from laughing.
“Thank you.” Charley climbed gingerly down from the desk and began picking beignets up off the floor and depositing them in the trash can. Bethany stooped to help her.
“I just don’t understand why you’re arresting her,” Kimmy said, furiously wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “You have no proof she did anything wrong—and she’s eighty years old!”
Charley sighed. “Everyone at the gala saw her blow up at Todd and accuse him of burning down her house. It’s clear she wanted to exact revenge. She may not have intended to kill him, but that was the result. She’s the only one with a motive, and she’s the only one who fled the scene of the crime. It’s obvious she’s guilty.”
Kimmy started crying harder.
Bethany shook her head. “She’s not the only one with a motive. A lot of other people benefited from Todd’s death—way more than Amara did. All she got was revenge, and we don’t even know if Todd is the one who set her house on fire, so maybe not even that!”
Kimmy raised her head. “And she didn’t run away to hide—she ran to her sister’s house because she was needed there. You know exactly where she is now. Isn’t that proof that she wasn’t trying to get away with a crime?”
Charley rubbed her forehead, leaving behind a smudge of powdered sugar. “I don’t know what to think. What did you mean when you said a lot of people benefited from Todd’s death? I can’t think of one.”
“Don Hefferman, first off.” Bethany remembered the uncomfortable conversation she’s had with him at the gala. What had he called her soup? Too rustic? What a lame excuse. “He was counting on the condo development falling through, so he invested in other projects. The first thing he did after Todd died was sell the church to the historical society. He couldn’t get rid of it fast enough!”
Charley raised an eyebrow and scribbled notes as fast as she could. “Go on. Who else?”
“Well, the historical society made out like a bandit. They picked up the property for next to nothing.”
Charley paused, pencil on paper. “But the historical society couldn’t have known that Don would sell to them, right? After Todd’s death, Don could have proceeded with the development using the existing plans.”
“I guess so. But they’re not the only ones who walked away with a prize, either. Alex Vadecki signed a franchise deal with Don the morning after Todd died. He basically got the investment money that Don had earmarked for the condo development!”
Charley jotted that down, too. “Do you have proof of any of this?”
Bethany pulled out her phone and showed her the photos she’d taken in Don’s office of the documents. Charley’s eyes widened as she flipped through them.
She swore quietly under her breath. “I have to show these to Coop when he gets back.”
Bethany yelped and swiped for the phone, but Charley was too quick and stepped out of reach.
“You can have it back in a minute. I just need to extract the photos. It’ll be faster if you help me out a little.” Charley handed her a slip of paper from the desk drawer—a technology release form, with a section to write her lock screen password. “I won’t mess with any personal stuff.”
“Except my photos, clearly,” Bethany grumbled, as she filled out the form and tried to remember if she’d taken any weird selfies lately. Probably.
Kimmy cleared her throat. “Does this mean you’ll cancel the warrant for my aunt’s arrest?”
“I can’t promise you anything,” Charley said sympathetically. “I wish I could. But we’ll at least hold off on having the New Orleans police make the arrest until we investigate these other leads. It’s possible that when Amara comes back into town, we’ll arrest her then.”
“Too bad you didn’t spend so much energy investigating the arson,” Kimmy said bitterly. “If you’d arrested Todd right away, he’d still be alive.”
Charley grabbed the last two beignets from Bethany’s basket and went to sit by Kimmy. Sharky flattened his ears and bared his teeth, until Charley tore off a piece of the pastry and offered it to him. Sharky licked it greedily, and then wagged his tail and put both his paws on Charley’s leg to beg for another bite.
“I’ve thought about that a lot,” Charley said, stroking Sharky’s head gingerly. “I want you to know that I’m still working on the arson case. It could help you down the road to collect the insurance money. Even if Amara goes to jail for the murder, you should be able to collect as her next of kin if the report proves she didn’t start the fire.”
“How can you prove that, th
ough?” Kimmy asked tearfully. “It seems like you’ll never have a definitive answer without a confession from Todd, and he’s dead.”
Charley munched the other beignet, considering her answer. “Well, we determined that the accelerant used was kerosene. I think Todd probably spotted it in George’s shed when he helped him with the lawnmower and used it to start the fire later. It was likely a spur-of-the-moment decision, sparked by his anger at her for refusing to publicly support the development at the city council meeting.”
“You found the kerosene in George’s shed?” Bethany asked.
“We haven’t searched it yet. This is just a rough theory now, based on what you said about Todd smelling like kerosene on Monday, and the tests coming back a match for kerosene.”
“I said he smelled like gasoline.” Bethany narrowed her eyes, thinking back to the newspaper article she’d read that morning. George was quoted as saying Todd was a nice guy—but he’d told Bethany that he thought of Todd as “Stinking Bob,” a far cry from a nice guy. George was definitely a liar...but was he a criminal, too?
“What if the arsonist wasn’t Todd? What if it was George?”
Kimmy drew in her breath sharply. “George wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
Bethany turned to her. “It all makes sense, though. He was angry with Amara about her dog. He wanted to punish her—his threatening note proves that. And he also lied about hating the developers. He was working with them!”
“George? Are you kidding me? All he could talk about what how much he hated the idea of those condos being built.”
“That’s what he said then, but remember his quote in the newspaper this morning? He said Todd would be missed and that he was a nice guy. He even left flowers at the church for him.”
Kimmy frowned. “He was just being polite.”
Bethany searched her purse for the piece of paper she’d torn out of Todd’s notebook. She held it out to Kimmy. “Look. That’s a list of homeowners on Hosanna Street. The starred names are people Todd offered money to for home improvements. The dollar amounts are the ones who accepted the payment. George is on the list!”
