Death by Chocolate

by Carol Lee

CHAPTER 3

  I didn’t sleep at all on the hard bench so when morning came, I felt stiff and tired in addition to the panic that seemed to have settled in the pit of my stomach. Between the lack of sleep, the worry and little food from yesterday, when an officer came in with some runny eggs and burnt toast, I nearly threw up. I did drink the strong coffee though, and splashed water on my face. I have to find a way to clear myself, I thought as I held onto the sides of the stainless steel basin. I hoped Lizzie would be at the arraignment. I wondered if David would be.

  I also wondered if Brian Cahill could get me bail. Although it seemed unlikely in a murder case, I liked thinking about the possibility. I sat back down on the bench and hugged my knees.

  Then I heard noise from the hall and the door clicked. It was time to go. My legs wobbled as I got up from the bench and went to the door.

  “Morning, Green Eyes.”

  “Hi,” I said not nearly as cheerfully as his greeting had been.

  “Don’t look so glum, you are getting out of here.”

  “What?” I leaned against the door. The relief that flooded my body made me off-balance.

  “Myra Bailey, I need to tell you that you are being released for now, however, you are not to leave the area since you are still considered a person of interest in the ongoing investigation of the Barbara Simpson murder.”

  “I can leave?” I asked still not believing what I was hearing.

  “Unless you want to stay for some unknown reason, yes.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, slowly forming thoughts again.

  “We’re talking with someone else who may have information that is pertinent to the case and so in the interest of making the right arrest, we are not proceeding until there is a bit more investigation.” He looked intently at me.

  “I can leave!” Now I felt new life kick in and I kissed him without even thinking about it. “Thank you!”

  He laughed. “So that means you are happy about this turn of event?”

  “Thank you,” I repeated.

  He smiled.

  “I hate to rain on your parade, but this is only buying some time for you. You might still not be out of the woods, yet.”

  I took a deep breath. “Who are you questioning?”

  The uniformed officer trying to not be intrusive shuffled some papers.

  David looked at me and then down at his sleeve. He tugged it and said, “I can’t tell you anything about the investigation.”

  I mouthed the word, “Willie.”

  He shook his head and then led me to the desk to sign for my belongings and leave.

  A few minutes later, I walked down the dozen steps of the Police Station and headed for home. I turned on my phone while I walked. I really wanted to talk to Lizzie.

  “Hi, it’s me. Call me when you get this,” I said to her voicemail and then swiped to send her a text. Going home, I typed and sped up the pace.

  As I got nearer to my house, I felt amazingly tired and I desperately wanted a shower to wash off the jail experience.

  Just as I fished the key out of my pocket to unlock the door, my phone rang.

  “Are you still at the Police Station? Are you okay? Are you under arrest? How long can you talk? Did Hunky help get you…”

  “I’m okay and I just got home,” I cut her off. “They let me out because they are talking to Willie. Can you come over?”

  “I’ll be there in ten,” she said and the call ended.

  I walked through the house not really paying attention to much of anything, but feeling like the surroundings were a little unfamiliar. I went into the bathroom and turned on the water to get it nice and hot. I dropped my clothes into the hamper and stepped into a gloriously hot shower. I washed my hair twice and just stood letting the water hit my body for several minutes. The banging on the bathroom door startled me.

  “MB, don’t drown in there,” called Lizzie.

  “Be out in a minute.”

  I shut off the water, dried and grabbed my robe.

  “So what’s going on?” Lizzie asked as soon as I got to the kitchen.

  “I got arrested, but they never brought me to be arraigned because they apparently have Willie in custody and are questioning him.”

  “Weird. Willie doesn’t seem like he’d be able to kill someone,” Lizzie said. “But it’s good news for you, though!” She opened the freezer and frowned. “I forgot that you had no chocolate.”

  I sat on one of the stools and thought about Willie. He had been arguing with Barbara the night before the murder and anger can do crazy things to people.

  “Hello? What are you thinking about? You look decidedly less excited than I expected,” Lizzie asked, bringing me back to the present.

  “I don’t think that Willie did murder Barbara.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just think that the chocolate cake on his sleeve is a bit weird. No one has said that she was force-fed the cake.”

  “So?”

  “So, he probably just got chocolate on his sleeve when he wiped his mouth or something. He’s not a violent man. I don’t think he did it.”

  “Again, so?”

  “Oh Lizzie, don’t you get it? If he’s not guilty, then they may come back to me as the killer. We need to find the real murderer.”

  “We need to do what? I’m not sure, MB. I’m all for proving that you are innocent, but…”

  “But what? What better way to clear my name than to actually catch the real murderer?”

  “Okay, I’m in, but maybe for the sake of being thorough I should still go and check on Rachel and her beautiful clothes, I mean motive?”

  “Later. I think that we need to get into the bakery first. Maybe fresh eyes on the crime scene will help us find something to help,”

  “So,” Lizzie picked up my phone, “call Detective Hunky and ask when we can get in.”

  “No, we can’t tell David. Not until we have something solid.”

  “So, let me understand you. You want to break into the bakery?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great, I guess once you’ve been charged with murder a little breaking and entering rap is nothing, huh?”

  Laughing, we started considering how to actually get into the bakery. We agreed that we should wait until later that night so there would be less chance of anyone being out. Lizzie gathered black breaking and entering clothing for us to wear. With our smartphones, we’d have flashlights and cameras to take pictures of anything that we’d find, but getting in remained our biggest challenge. Neither of us had ever picked a lock before and aside from prying open and squeezing into my apartment window while in college when I’d forgotten my key, I’d never broken into any building either. I felt a rush of excitement at the thought of the adventure in spite of the fact that I knew how much depended on us finding something.

  Around dinner time, a car pulled up outside. Neither of us checked to see who it was; we just hurried to get the clothes and other things out of sight before anyone came to the door. Lizzie quickly gathered all the clothes and I grabbed the kitchen things that we were considering as possible lock picks. I opened the small drawer in the coffee table and swiped the small forks, lobster picks and knives into it just as the knock came.

  “Green Eyes, are you home?”

  I sighed in relief that it was David and the goofy smile crept back onto my face as I closed the drawer and went to the door. Lizzie came out as I opened the door.

  “Hi, we’re here.”

  “We? Oh, hi Lizzie,” he said and closed the door.

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’ve had better days, but I’m okay. Can you tell me anything about what’s going on?”

  “Well, other than Pete being pretty mad that we had to kick you loose, not too much.”

  “How did you get me out?”

  “Oh well, as much as I’d like to take credit for that, it was the DA who felt that with Willie as a potential suspect, along with you, it was
premature to make an arrest.”

  “Yes, but who brought Willie up to the DA?”

  “Okay, so I might have helped a little.” He smiled.

  “Nice, but can I interrupt the ‘Love-Fest’ for a minute and ask if you think they’ll arrest Willie or will they come for MB again?” Lizzie jumped in, making me blush and look away.

  “I’m not sure, Lizzie. Right now, everyone is hot to get this all wrapped up, but the evidence is sketchy and so either one can get the nod.”

  “Can you think of anything that might help her get off?” Lizzie pleaded.

  “I wish I could, but the fact that the poison was mixed into the frosting of the Death by Chocolate cake that Barbara ate and that the recipe card had been lying under the body makes it a pretty convincing and an easy case.”

  “What do they have on Willie besides the chocolate cake stain on his shirt and the fight with Barbara the night before?” I asked.

  “Honestly, not much. There is some history with them from when Willie hung out with her son, but we haven’t been able to dig up anything concrete about their relationship yet.”

  “What about her husband?” Lizzie suggested.

  “Well, I spoke to him earlier today and he did go to his mother’s house. She has private nursing care in her home and she confirms his story of when he arrived and said that he never left the house until the police came and told him about Barbara’s murder.”

  “I wish it’d been trash day because then the guys would have been able to vouch for me,” I said.

  “It’s too bad there was nothing unusual about that morning that could help you,” Lizzie commented.

  “I know.” My stomach growled. “You know, we should think about something for dinner. Can you stay David or do you have to go?”

  “I can stay unless I get called for something.”

  In the kitchen, I took stock of the frozen dinners in the freezer and then opted to make my famous pasta. I went to the cabinet and pulled out a jar of Ragu. I got the water boiling for the pasta and grabbed the loaf of bread. A few minutes later I had buttered some slices and sprinkled them with garlic. I got the plates out to set the table and Lizzie came in as I poured the pasta into the water.

  “Hey, I’m gonna run,” she said and then whispered, “I’ll swing back around midnight. That way you two can have a nice dinner without me as the third wheel.”

  Then I remembered Mark’s visit to the bakery. “Run! Lizzie, you’re the best!”

  “I know, but why this time?”

  I went back into the living room and Lizzie followed. I told her and David about the odd visit that Mark had made to the bakery yesterday. He looked as though he had already gone running, though he claimed he was just heading out. I remembered the soggy money and excitedly recounted that he’d asked about business.

  “So you think Mark killed Barbara to keep you in town?” David said in an I’m-trying-to-understand-you sort of tone.

  “I know it sounds a bit weak when you say it like that, but yes, I think he wants me to succeed in town and to stay here. What better way than to make me the only bakery in town?”

  “Mark can lose his cool,” Lizzie chimed in.

  David sighed. “Well, it might not hurt to check him out.”

  “Look, maybe I’m reaching, but he could have been establishing an alibi by coming into my bakery.”

  “I’ll do some checking. I promise, but can’t it wait until after dinner?” he smiled and I melted.

  “Right, so you two have a nice dinner, I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later, MB. See you, David,” Lizzie hurried to the door and gave me a thumbs up sign as she left.

  “I’ve got to go check the pasta before it boils over,” I said and went into the kitchen. He followed me into the kitchen and I could feel him watching me as I fished a piece of pasta out to check.

  When I dumped the pasta into the strainer at the sink, David came up behind me and kissed my neck.

  “We’ll get you out of this mess, you know,” he whispered.

  I turned around and looked into his pale blue eyes. I felt like I could be lost in them forever. He pulled me close and leaned in to kiss me. He felt strong and solid and I let myself be held, supported and swept away.

  His phone beeped, but neither of us moved to pull apart. Another minute went by and it beeped again.

  After it beeped a third time, he gently pulled away and checked his phone. I busied myself by running water over the cold pasta and put the jar into the microwave. I tried to keep my legs from quivering too much.

  “It looks like…”

  “You have to go, right?”

  “No, it looks like it wasn’t something that I need to take care of right now. “

  I smiled and felt my face get hot. “I just thought that you would have to go take care of police business.”

  “Personal business, first. Besides,” the microwave beeped, “it’s been awhile since I’ve had homemade pasta sauce.”

  We both laughed and finished getting the meal ready. We ate, talked and laughed. I completely forgot about everything. The night flew by and I nearly forgot about the next part of the evening. Lizzie texted at 11 and it reminded me to get back to reality. After a lengthy goodbye, I went to answer the text and tell Lizzie that the coast was clear.

  Just before midnight, Lizzie and I set out for the bakery clad in black, armed with our phones, a butter knife, lobster pick and a small set of jewelry screwdrivers.

  We walked along the water and kept looking over our shoulders to make sure no one followed us. Neither of us spoke until we got close to the bakery. A twig snapped under my feet and we both scrambled for the nearby trees. My heart pounded and it took several deep breaths to get myself under control.

  “So, we definitely win the bravery award,” Lizzie hissed in a near hysterical whisper.

  “You ready?”

  “I am if you are.”

  We quickly jogged down the street and slipped behind Barbara’s Brilliance. As we caught our breath, we searched for a possible way into the building. The back door had no window and had a key lock, probably a deadbolt and the doorknob lock. There were two other windows; one to the left of the door about shoulder height and one that appeared to be a basement one on the ground. The higher one had a single pane and no way to open it. We’d have to break it to get in that way and the basement one seemed small and a bit narrow.

  “I think that one is unless there’s one on the side or something,” Lizzie pointed to the basement window.

  We split up and checked the sides of the building. My side had the large windows with display cases in them and Lizzie’s had one boarded up window that evidently didn’t lead anywhere. Without a saw or something to pry off the boards, that wasn’t an option and it probably had a shelf or something against it on the inside.

  I felt a sense of urgency now that we’d wasted so much time looking for a way to get inside. I knelt down and pushed at the casement window. I hoped it would be unlocked and just push easily, but that didn’t happen. I swiped my phone and picked the flashlight app to size up the window. It looked like there was an old lock on the top – the kind that slid to the side to unlock. I could slip my baby finger into the gap, but couldn’t quite reach the lock. Lizzie tried with her long piano-playing fingers and couldn’t do it either. I took the butter knife and slid it into the gap. It reached, but moving the lever proved harder than expected. After several tries, it moved ever so slightly. Encouraged, I attacked it with renewed energy and finally it shifted aside. I handed my phone to Lizzie while I shimmied through the narrow window. My feet dangled into the darkness as I lowered myself into the basement. I dropped down onto something solid, but it wobbled and I fell hard onto the floor.

  “Are you okay?” hissed Lizzie and she shined the phone light back and forth.

  “I think so,” I said trying to figure out which way was up in the inky blackness.

  I finally got up and felt my way back to the wall to reach
up to the window. Lizzie reached in with my phone and the light.

  “I’ll make my way upstairs and let you in the back.” I told Lizzie. The light only worked for a short distance, but at least it helped me avoid boxes and other obstacles except the low beam near the top of the step. I clunked my head hard and muffled my shout. Luckily, the door to the upstairs wasn’t locked and I stepped into the kitchen area. The place had an eerie feeling and for a second I considered taking my chance in court. Then I saw Lizzie peering through the window next to the door and got back on track. After all, if my best friend risked getting arrested to help me clear my name, then I needed to step up. I went to the back door and unlocked it. She carefully maneuvered around the crime scene tape marking the door.

  “So, we’re actually doing this, huh?” Lizzie said.

  “Yeah, but if you want to bail, I’ll understand.”

  “What and let you have all the fun in this creepy, dark bakery? Not a chance, MB.”

  “Okay, let’s get started,” I said and with that a car pulled up outside. Lizzie eased the door closed. I crouched behind some boxes and Lizzie slid into a space beside the door. Thudding from my heart filled my ears and I took a deep breath and silently prayed that no one was actually coming. Then a spotlight shone in the window and played over the walls, scanning.

  “Did someone see us, MB?”

  “I don’t know. It might be the police.”

  The light went off, but the car engine didn’t change. They weren’t gone. My feet started to fall asleep from my crouching position. Neither of us moved or talked. Just as I considered moving, the light snapped on again.

  “Lock the door,” I whispered to Lizzie and she moved a tentative hand to turn the deadbolt. It slid into place, but clicked. The click seemed to echo as if cymbals crashed. She froze. The light didn’t come back. Then I saw her hand dart back to the door. She turned the handset lock and had just withdrawn her hand as the knob jiggled. I wobbled and tried to lean back more into the shadows. I heard a small “eek” from Lizzie. I hoped Lizzie pushed the window closed in the basement after I went inside. Finally, after what seemed like hours, a car door closed and the car drove off. I had been in that squatting position for long enough that I wasn’t exactly sure if I could move again.

  “You think it’s okay?”

  I stretched my leg out and moved my foot. “I hope so.” All the waiting had made me feel a little calmer, but I wanted to get out of there.

  We crept out of our hiding spaces and carefully began to look around. The lights on our phones cast a much dimmer light than the spotlight. I went to the front window and peered out. Nothing moved and there were no cars on the road. We split up. I took the front part of the shop since I’d already gone to peek out the window and as I stood just a few steps from where I’d been yesterday morning when I saw Barbara on the stretcher and then I moved the phone-light a step ahead of me and the tape outline of the body shone bright white. I traced the outline and saw a few chocolate cake crumbs on the floor near where I presumed her hand had been. My stomach began to hurt. Anger and fear tied my intestines in knots. Focus, I told myself. I had to find something to help. I glanced at the door and saw the small note taped on it. Yellow crime scene tape crisscrossed the window. I went over to take a closer look. The narrow lined paper looked like it came from a tablet and it stuck to the door with a single piece of tape. I wondered if there were any fingerprints on it.

  “Hey, MB.”

  I walked over to the counter where Lizzie stood.

  She pointed to the calendar and it had two entries for the night before. “Ron @ moms and $ for Willie.”

  “Okay, so that means she knew Ron wouldn’t be opening and the argument with Willie was about money for something. Keep looking in these papers,” I passed my light over a pile of papers on the side of the counter. “Maybe there’s something about what she needed to pay him for.”

  I went back toward the front and looked at the floor around the body and at the door again. For some reason the signs on the door kept bothering me. I looked at the other signs. There were two that were handwritten on the door besides the note saying that the shop would open late. I tried to get a better look at them. One had been written in marker so the letters were a bit more distinct and the second one had been written in pen like the tablet page. The script on two had a rounded look to it and used uppercase and lowercase lettering, but the script on the note paper from the morning of the murder looked more angular and had been written in all caps.

  A car turned the corner and it headed toward the shop. I hurried away from the door and slid behind a chair from one of the café tables to warn Lizzie. My light cast a slight glow on the floor and something sparkled. I snagged the small screw and put it into my pocket.

  “Lizzie,” I called in a raspy voice barely a whisper. “Someone’s coming again.” I heard a thud as I hurried to get to the back of the shop again. I fully expected to be caught in the spotlight as I bent low and tried to run. I made it to the back near the basement door. Lizzie leaned against the boxes that I had crouched behind before. We listened for the car and any doors opening or closing, but it seemed quiet.

  “Do we dare look?” Lizzie asked barely in an audible noise.

  A jiggling of keys in the lock of the front door answered that question. I pointed to the basement door and we moved as fast as we dared toward it. Once in the stairwell, we closed the door and slowly descended the stairs. The door opened and the bell tinkled. We froze. Another tinkle meant that the door was closed. Neither of us moved. Get a grip, I told myself and tried to breathe. I felt Lizzie’s arm next to mine and it shook, but she stood as still as a statue other than that. I looked over at her, but we were in total darkness so I saw nothing. We heard a creak on the floor, but no footsteps or talking. Then there was a beep from a phone and Lizzie grabbed my arm. I jumped, but stayed quiet. I took a breath and tried to think.

  Neither of us moved and thankfully we both had our phone sounds turned off, but whoever stood above us, didn’t. I pressed my phone so the screen lit up and I held it near my stomach so it wouldn’t shine far. I motioned to Lizzie to go down the rest of the stairs. We had to get out of there. Who had keys to the bakery? Ron? The police? Someone no one knew about?

  Lizzie still held my arm so I took the first step and she moved when she felt me go. Why come back tonight? I wondered. Same as we were; looking for something. After the second step down, the stair creaked under my weight and I leaned back and held onto Lizzie. We wobbled slightly, but stayed upright. We froze again and waited. I could hear Lizzie’s breathing. The footsteps startled me, but they seemed to be across the front door and not coming toward the back at all. The beeping sound came again. This time we heard a muffled noise that sounded like a male voice. The front doorbell tinkled again and we quickly went down the last few steps not worrying about any creaks right then.

  At the bottom I put on my phone again and we made our way over to the window that I’d slipped through earlier. It seemed high to reach from inside so we looked around for something to stand on. The front door bell sounded again. Maybe I should have one of those bells, I thought a bit randomly. Lizzie found an old chair and brought it over to the window. I climbed out first and tried not to make any noise. While Lizzie shimmied out, I went to the corner and tried to see the car that had brought our mysterious visitor with keys to the bakery. I couldn’t get a good enough look. All I could see was the very end of the bumper and it was a dark color, not shiny. Not enough for it to look familiar. It could have even been my car, which I wished that I had right now.

  Lizzie got her leg out as I moved away from the corner and we stood in the shadows before moving. We went to the side of the building, but in order to get away we had to get past the display windows and whoever looked around inside could possibly see us as we did.

  We crept closer to the windows and leaned against the wall. I peered just at the edge of the window to see if I could get a glimpse
of the person in the bakery. I couldn’t see anything except the decorated birthday cake that sat in the display case. If the view inside was blocked by the cakes, then the view outside must also be blocked by them. We had to risk it.

  I inched ahead trying to stay as low as possible. Lizzie followed. It seemed like it took forever to move just a few feet, but we finally got to the edge of the building. I peeked around the corner to get a better look at the car before we left and the bell from the door tinkled again. We heard the keys jingling and then the car door opening and closing. The car started. I tried to sneak a quick look before it drove away, but Lizzie pulled my sleeve to hold me back.

  “If you get seen who knows what will happen!” She whispered urgently.

  With the street quiet again, we retraced our path back to my house with no trouble. Inside, we made some tea, but it took a few minutes before either of us actually spoke.

  “So, we know a few things—Fish Creek Falls’ finest check on crime scenes at night, someone left something at the bakery and we also know that you and I not only make decent cat burglars, but we look good in our outfits.”

  I smiled. Good old Lizzie, I thought. She could always make me feel better.

  “We also know that the visitor to the bakery was a man.”

  “With a cell phone that beeps.” Then she added, “Do you think it was Mark?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could’ve seen the car better.”

  “So what should we do now?”

  “I’m not sure.” I saw her try and stifle a yawn, “But you should probably get some sleep.”

  “Me? What about you?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll sleep at all. You staying?”

  “Yeah,” she yawned again.

  I got up and went to grab a pillow. When I got back Lizzie had already taken the blanket and settled on the couch.

  “I’ll wake you when I’m leaving to open and then you’ll have plenty of time to go and change to get to work.”

  She nodded with her eyes closed. Lizzie could always fall asleep fast. I yawned in spite of myself and went to bed, too. As I lay there in the dark I kept mulling over the whole night and tried to think about anything that would make sense. I did drift off to sleep and my dreams swirled with chocolate cake, images of Mark and Willie, car bumpers and beeping. When the beeping didn’t stop I realized, as I shook off the dream, that it was the alarm clock. I hit snooze and stared at the ceiling as I ran over everything once again. I had to figure this out. It beeped again and I got up to find some clothes.

  I went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. My eyes looked puffy and dark circles were forming under them. I splashed cold water on my face and rebraided my hair since it had come out a bit through our burglary and then the restless “nap” that I’d had overnight.

  A few minutes later, I popped my oatmeal into the microwave and waited for the cinnamon smell to waft through the kitchen. I didn’t feel hungry in the least, but I knew that I needed to keep something in my stomach. Getting sick wasn’t going to help the situation any.

  The microwave beeped and I wondered if it had woken Lizzie up. I stirred my oatmeal and went into the living room to see Lizzie.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” I said as I squished onto the couch near her feet.

  She groaned slightly and pulled the blanket over her head. I reached for the light. She sat up and looked around still half asleep.

  “Why are you so cheery in the morning?” She yawned and took my oatmeal.

  “I didn’t think I was. Do you want some?”

  “No, this is fine.”

  I rolled my eyes and said, “I have to get going. Will you come by after work?”

  “Of course. Let me know if something happens, though. I don’t want your lawyer to have to tell me the next time you’re arrested.”

  “Let’s hope there isn’t a next time, but I’ll do my best.”

  I grabbed my coat, phone and keys to the bakery and headed out into another early crisp fall morning. Again, the town had nothing happening. Everything seemed normal, but it never would be again. I wondered what today would bring and if there truly could be a way to get out of this mess. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to make a go of my bakery in such a small town. Then I thought about David. I wouldn’t have met him if I hadn’t come to Fish Creek Falls. I wanted to call him just to hear his voice, but I felt certain that he’d come into the shop sometime today. I just hoped that the visit wouldn’t be official.

  I unlocked the bakery and switched on the lights. In the back, I hung up my coat, put on my apron and switched on the oven. I went to put the coffee on and realized that the urns still had coffee in them. I had to get things back in order before I could get the regular routine going. I started by getting the coffee urns cleaned and set up to make new coffee. I wondered if anyone would come into the shop this morning. After a while, I had cleaned up and then started the normal routine. When I looked in the refrigerator, I realized that the fresh fruit supply had dwindled and I hadn’t placed an order with everything. I decided to make cinnamon muffins.

  I had just put the muffins into the oven when the door opened and the first customer entered.

  “Morning, Green Eyes. How are you doing this morning?”

  “Better now that you came in. Coffee?”

  “Absolutely. It’s been a long night.”

  “What happened?”

  “Kids broke into the gym at school last night and made a mess of it. The janitor had been waxing floors and heard them. He caught one of them, so the rest of the night I ran around waking families up and hauling the rest of the kids to the station.”

  “Here you go,” I said as I handed him his coffee.

  He took a long sip. “Ah, that’s what the doctor ordered. To make matters worse, I had to do most of it myself because Pete didn’t hear his phone.”

  “How many kids were involved?”

  “Six. Well, Green Eyes, much as I’d like to stay,” he said with another gulp, “I have to get home to clean up and get back at it. I’ll let you know if anything comes of a chat with Mark.”

  “Thanks,” I said and picked up the bleach water bucket.

  As he got to the door, his phone beeped. I nearly dumped the water. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it, waved and left.

  “Wait, David,” I called after him and plopped the pail on the floor.

  “Good morning,” he said into his phone as the door started closing behind him.

  The door had barely closed as I got to it just as it swung back open. Rachel walked in and nearly bumped right into me.

  “Oh, dahling, you startled me.”

  “Sorry, Rachel. I was trying to catch, David, I mean the Detective.”

  “Now, that’s different. Most people do not try to catch police, it’s the other way around. Do I smell some cinnamon scones in the air?”

  I sniffed, remembered the muffins and dashed back to the oven to get them out.

  “No, just cinnamon muffins this morning, Rachel. Fresh from the oven, though. Can I get you one?”

  “Hmm, well, my heart was set on a scone, but you bake such divine treats, I’ll have one with a cup of Earl, please.”

  I looked at the tea kettle and realized that I’d forgotten about putting on the water this morning. I put down the muffin tin, filled a cup with water and put it in the microwave. I then went and dumped out the old water from the kettle and put on a fresh pot.

  “So, my dear,” she started as I brought her order over, “any news about,” she whispered, “the murder?”

  “Not really.”

  “Such bad business and bad for business,” she added and looked around.

  I smiled as she went on about how small business needs to be supported and how the internet put small business, especially hers with fashion trends as they are, in jeopardy.

  “Well, luckily, most people want to have fresh baked goods and not mail order ones,” I said to try and end the litany.<
br />
  “Yes, I see your point. Well, I’ll be off. I’m redoing the front window display. You’ll just have to come and see it later.”

  “I’ll try. Have a nice day.”

  As she left, I went and grabbed my phone. I started to get David, but stopped. If the police phones had the same beep settings, then the beep that Lizzie and I heard last night came from a police phone. How do I ask him that without telling him why I asked? I had to think and get it all put together before I brought David into any of it.

  The door opened again and the Redmonds came inside.

  “Good morning,” I called to them as I moved to the counter to get their order.

  “Good morning, Myra,” Abe said and Millie smiled.

  “What can I get for you folks this morning?”

  “I’ll have a decaf coffee with just cream, please,” Millie ordered.

  “Another cup of that French Vanilla,” Abe said.

  I nodded and made their coffees. No one spoke and I tried to hurry.

  “It has been quite a few days, hasn’t it?” Abe asked.

  “Yes, it has,” I answered and waited for him to order something to eat or to say more.

  “Myra, I do not think that you are guilty, but it is our job to follow the evidence.” He placed a five on the counter and slid it closer to me.

  I smiled, but wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed to be trying to be nice, but still he made it sound like he thought that I’d be convicted.

  “Well, good luck to you, Myra. We’ll be seeing you,” he said and took his wife by the elbow and they left without another word.

  I rang up the sale and went to finish mixing the new bleach water to wipe down the counters.

  Next thing I knew the door opened again. I dropped the cloth into the bleach water and stepped to the sink to wash my hands.

  “Good morning,” I called.

  No one said anything in response to my greeting. I dried my hands as I turned toward the counter. I saw Peter Lynch standing there.

  “What can I get for you, Detective?” I said trying to not be nervous. No one came with him, so I didn’t know what to expect from the visit.

  “Coffee. Black,” he said staring at me intently.

  “Right.”

  I put the coffee down on the counter and said, “Anything else with that?”

  “No,” he pulled out a couple of ones and placed them on the counter, though I’d held my hand out for the money.

  “So, business as usual, huh?” he said as he cast a glance around the empty shop.

  “There have been a few people in this morning, but there are extenuating circumstances, as you well know.”

  “Not sure why you opened at all.”

  Did he mean at all, or just this morning? I just looked at him.

  “You know even if you are lucky enough to get off, people might not give you business any way.”

  I still just stayed quiet.

  “You know we’ve had other outsiders here in Fish Creek Falls and they’ve not been able to make a go of it, either.”

  “What about Mark? He’s not from here and is doing okay,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Yeah, well. He is also a suspect.” He glared. “Who knows? It might come out that you both got rid of Barbara.”

  My mouth dropped a bit and I felt sick. I knew that my face betrayed my anger and fear at what he said, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  He looked at his watch and said, “Time to go. Good day, Ms. Bailey.”

  I noticed the missing stem to set the time on his watch again. Cold spread through my body as I watched him leave the bakery. He really could make this murder charge stick, if things kept going this way. Mark had become an official suspect and if Lynch had his way, I’d become his accomplice.

  The rest of the morning stayed quiet, but it seemed every time I wanted to think and to make sense of everything, someone would come into the shop. By lunch I had my chance. I thought about calling David to see what had happened with Mark, but I thought it might be better to wait until a bit later in the day when he might make some time to come and see me.

  As I thought, I realized that it was probably pointless to stay open after lunch because it is usually slow in the afternoons; most likely it would be dead today. I shuddered a bit at the phrasing, but cleaned up and got ready to close anyway.

  When I had everything ready, I had a twinge of guilt at closing early in spite of the fact that no one would care or have a brownie emergency if I were not open, so I decided to write a note and put it on the door. Then it hit me. The note on the door at Barbara’s had been written in a different handwriting than the other ones. That’s what had bothered me about it—it had been different. What if the killer had written it? Could that have been what the visitor had been after? Not just that because he had stayed too long and moved away from the door. He had keys. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get home, but I needed to tell Lizzie. I whipped out my phone and texted Lizzie, 911 meet me at my house ASAP, and then I taped the note on the door, let myself out and locked it. I hustled down the street and around the corner toward home. As I gasped for breath, I slowed down. In spite of the fact that I had been in decent shape, my anxiety and excitement got the better of my breathing. I got close to my house and decided to go in the back door. I went right into my room and grabbed my pants from last night and flopped on the bed next to them. It all made sense to me, but I wondered if it could possibly be enough because I had no idea what the motive could be. I wanted to call David, but could I trust him with my theory? Maybe I should call Brian and tell him what I had figured out. Then my phone rang and startled me.

  “Green Eyes,” he sounded so tired and worried. “We just finished with Mark. He’s been cleared of the murder.”

  “David, I think I know who killed Barbara, but—”

  “You do? Well, are you going to enlighten me?” He said in a sort of sarcastic way.

  “Are you alone?”

  “No,” he answered more seriously.

  “Can you get away? I’m at home. Please it’s important.”

  “I’ll be there in just a little while. Are you okay?”

  “Sort of,” I said truthfully.

  “I won’t be long.”

  Lizzie arrived and rushed inside. “I came as fast as I could. What’s the emergency? I thought you might have been arrested for a sec, but then you said you were here and so I felt better, but what’s up?”

  I waited for her to stop rambling. “Peter killed Barbara.”

  “As in Police Detective Peter Lynch? Did you bump your head or something? I know he’s a first class jerk, but a murderer? Why would he kill Barbara?”

  “I’m not sure of the why, but I am sure that he is the one. Think about it, Lizzie. He has a police phone that beeps, he had access to the keys to the crime scene and I’ll bet that he wrote the note on the door after he killed her. He had plenty of time to do that and then meet Abe and Millie for coffee at my shop.”

  “So he is a male and he had keys to the crime scene and has a beeping phone, why wouldn’t you suspect him? Scratch that, I know why not,” she said and raised her eyebrow slightly.

  “Yes, but there’s more.” I told her about the note on the door and the small screw that I’d found that I thought belonged to David’s watch.

  “You mean you think his watch got banged up somehow when he was in the bakery killing Barbara? You need to tell Hunky about this right away.” She said and shook her phone at me to make the point.

  “I did. Well, I didn’t tell him, yet. I called and asked him to come over. He should be here any time now.”

  Lizzie and I spent the next few minutes thinking about the motive that Peter Lynch might have for killing Barbara and there didn’t seem to be anything that we could think of to be a motive for murder. After all, he investigated murders for a living, why would he commit one?

  A car pulled up outside and Lizzie looked out. “Detective Hunky to the resc
ue.”

  I exhaled and tried to keep my cool since telling David that his partner probably had murdered Barbara and had been pinning it on me certainly wouldn’t be easy. I wondered if he’d believe me.

  “Hi Green Eyes,” he nodded, “Lizzie. What’s going on?”

  He sat down on the couch and Lizzie and I filled him in on our escapade to the bakery and I told him about the note and the small screw that I’d found.

  “It’s in the pocket of these pants since I didn’t know if any fingerprints or other evidence could be taken from something that tiny, I didn’t touch it without my gloves.”

  “But what we don’t know is if there had been something else that the killer had been doing in there.”

  He sat quiet and shook his head back and forth ever so slowly. “Do you two know what a world of trouble you have gotten yourself into? I’m not sure even where to start,” he paused.

  “Start with, I believe you, Green Eyes,” I said feeling anxious and even the slightest bit angry.

  He smiled faintly and said, “I believe you have super circumstantial evidence to support your theory, but you are lacking a motive and I haven’t the slightest idea what that would be.”

  “I’m not sure, but he made sure that mine was pretty good, right? He’s even used my chemistry degree against me with the kind of poison,” I rambled.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He told me that the castor bean poison had been mixed into the frosting and that that would make me the best suspect, chemistry and baking.”

  David looked a bit confused and he stayed quiet for a second.

  “Green Eyes, you said that Pete told you the poison was in the frosting?”

  “Yes and he said it made perfect sense with my background. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m wondering when he found out that the poison was in the frosting.”

  “He told me that when he came to arrest me.” I kept going. “You also said that he didn’t hear his phone, but I’ll bet that Lizzie and I heard it clearly enough while at the bakery last night and he came to the shop this morning and basically told me that either both Mark and I or one of us at least would be charged with murder. He sounded like he could make it happen.”

  “Well, knowing Peter, I bet he just said things to make him sound important and to scare you. Scared suspects tend to say things that incriminate them.”

  “Maybe, but this seemed like he meant it,” I said a bit huffier than I intended.

  “I wish that we could think of a way to trick him into confessing,” Lizzie spoke up.

  “That’d solve it,” I added.

  We all sat without saying anything right away.

  “I have an idea, but I’ll need your help, both of you, to pull it off,” I said.

  Lizzie said, “I’m in.”

  David looked at me as if trying to will me to tell him my idea before he agreed to it.

  “Okay, Green Eyes, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I nodded. “Me, too.”

  A few minutes later, Lizzie and I set out for Barbara’s Brilliance. I hoped that we would show some of our own brilliance in the plan that I’d devised. David went to get the keys to the bakery.

  When Lizzie and I got there, we went to the basement window and slid in just as we had the night before. It seemed a bit spookier by day since the daylight cast ominous shadows on the basement. We were spared all of that with the pitch blackness and rather dim phone lights that we had the last evening. We made our way upstairs and got settled. Lizzie called the Police Station.

  “May I speak with Detective Lynch, please? Yes, it is important. It’s about the Simpson murder.” She paused and then added, “Yes, I’ll wait.” After a pause she continued, “Detective Lynch this is Lizzie Stevens. I wanted to call you because I’m worried that MB, um, Myra Bailey is going to do something crazy. She claims that she’s going to find out the truth about Barbara’s murder, no matter what and I’m scared that she’s going to do something crazy.”

  I gestured a question and rolled my hands to get her to speed it up.

  “She’s going to Barbara’s bakery,” she looked at her phone and then at me. “Call ended. I think that means he’s on the way.”

  “I hope this works,” I said.

  A few minutes later, keys rattled in the door. Lizzie sunk down behind the boxes that we’d hid behind last night and I tried to hide near the display case. The bell tinkled once, then twice, and the door shut.

  I peeked out from next to the display case and saw Peter Lynch scanning the shop. He stepped into the room and tossed the keys on the table near where I found the screw. I tried to stay quiet and hidden. I hoped that David would get here soon. To my surprise, he actually pulled up a chair and sat down. I guess he thought that he had beaten me to the shop.

  In spite of the fact that it felt like the worst idea, I thought that I needed to make noise and get this confrontation over with. I nudged the box near me and it made a faint scraping sound. I heard the chair creak as he shifted his weight or got up.

  “Ms. Bailey, is that you?” he said. “It’s Detective Lynch. Come out before you have more trouble.” His voice seemed more animated than usual.

  I sat quietly. I didn’t want to make it seem that easy.

  I heard his footsteps on the floor and then I decided to move. I stood slowly and moved from my hiding spot.

  “Ah, Ms. Bailey. That’s a good choice.” He smiled.

  “How did you know that I was here?” I asked.

  “Your friend, Ms. Stevens called me all worried about you. How did you get in?”

  “I got in the same way that I did last night,” I said in a voice a good deal braver than I felt.

  He stiffened a bit and his smile faded. “Are you confessing to breaking and entering two times, Ms. Bailey?”

  I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him. I hoped I wasn’t wrong after all. If so, then I really would be adding more charges to my indictment.

  “What brings you here, Ms. Bailey? What can you possibly hope to find?”

  “The real killer,” I said simply and stared at him.

  He looked uncomfortable. I’d never seen him sweat before, but his forehead had gotten shiny.

  “I would have thought there were mirrors in other places besides this bakery.”

  “Yes, but you and I both know that I didn’t kill Barbara.”

  “Now, how would I know that?”

  “Because you did.”

  His eyes widened slightly and then he composed himself again.

  “Really? How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “I think that you came and killed Barbara, left that note on the door telling people the bakery was closed and then met Abe and Millie Redmond for coffee. This one was closed so you came with them to my bakery and created a nice alibi, at least for the later part of the morning. I think you also decided to make it look like I killed her so that I would leave your precious town.” I stepped back as I saw him clench his fist.

  “You banged up that watch during your struggle and lost a piece of it, or maybe more than one.” I pulled the Ziploc bag from my pocket and showed him the screw, or actually the stem, from his watch.

  “I think that you realized that you had lost the piece and came to the bakery last night to retrieve it, but you were interrupted by your phone. There was a problem at the High School and you didn’t go right away because you were here looking around.”

  “That’s a great deal of supposition on your part. How do you suppose that you can prove any of it?”

  “I might be in trouble for being in a crime scene, but I was here when you were last night and I saw you,” I lied but he was right. I had nothing solid. I remembered what David said about getting a suspect mad.

  “I’m betting that this piece has your finger prints on it from winding and since I have your license plate from your car, I can prove you were here.”

  “So, what? I am a Po
lice Detective and I entered a crime scene. No one would even question that.”

  “That means you are admitting that you were here, then?” I took another step back and could feel the display case behind me.

  He didn’t answer. Then he seemed to be in his own world for a second. He started sighing and clenching and unclenching his fists.

  “No one comes into my town and thinks they can fit in and stay. Outsiders. You are all the same.”

  “Is that why you framed me for Barbara’s murder?” I croaked. Suddenly my throat had gone dry.

  That did it. He lunged at me and his hands closed around my neck. I kicked my knee up and it hit something, but despite the groan, he didn’t let go. Lizzie came out of hiding and hit him on the head with something. He let go long enough to shove her hard into the table. I held my neck and gasped for air. I tried to move away, but I’d boxed myself in pretty well. He came at me again and I ducked and tried to keep him from getting a grip. I reached up and grabbed for anything that I could hit him with and my hands closed on a cake stand. I swung it and it hit him on the side of the head. He crumpled to the floor dazed.

  I heard the bells jangle as the door slammed open. Peter got to his feet and came at me again. David grabbed Peter and pulled him off of me.

  “What are you doing?” David shouted.

  The two exchanged punches and crashed into tables. I went over to Lizzie and pulled her back toward the kitchen. She seemed dazed but watched the brawl with me. David finally pushed Peter back against the same display case that I’d had my back against. He held him up.

  “Why? Why would you try to hurt Myra?” he huffed.

  “Oh come on, Dave. Don’t tell me you don’t see that she’s just like all the rest of the Outsiders? She’s just here to make money on the small townies and then she’ll leave and the building will be empty all over again.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that she has to go.”

  The two men stared at one another without another word for what seemed like a really long time.

  “Did you kill Barbara to make it look like Myra did it?” He slammed him against the display case. “Did you?”

  Peter didn’t answer.

  “Why did you kill Barbara? She wasn’t an Outsider like you’re talking about,” David demanded.

  Peter just looked at David who spun him around and handcuffed him in what seemed like a single movement. David stood a chair upright and guided Peter into it.

  “What are you arresting me for, Dave?” Peter asked smugly.

  “Assault right now, but it will be murder soon, buddy.”

  I stepped forward. “You made a mistake, Detective.”

  He looked at me, but said nothing.

  “You wrote the note that the bakery would be closed on your tablet paper. I’m guessing that you thought no one would question or even look twice at the note because people leave notes on their business doors all the time in town, right?”

  David went over to the door and looked at the note more closely. “She’s right and I’ll bet that we can match both the paper and the writing.”

  Peter just frowned and shifted in his seat.

  I hoped that there would be enough to convict him. Then I remembered Lizzie’s job and went behind the boxes to get the recorder. I switched it off and brought it over to David. As I did, I stepped over the cake stand that I’d hit Peter with; it had a plastic chocolate cake on it that now had been broken off. I smiled; glad that I didn’t hit him too hard or it would have been another Death by Chocolate.

  About the Author

  Originally from a small town in New England, Carol now lives in the Colorado Rockies with her husband and her two rescue cats—Ellie and Bear, who has no tail. She likes to write cozy mystery novelettes and short stories, perfect for the busy person on the go. When she’s not working on her next mystery, she loves any kind of outdoor activity ranging from skiing to cycling to gardening.

 

  Other books by Carol Lee

  A Dessert First Cozy Mystery Series:

  Glazed & Confused: Murder, Thieves and Buried Treasure

  Fireworks in the Kitchen

  The Secret of the Juggling Bear

  Killer Heels

  Murdered in Fashion

  A Sinful Sweets Cozy Mystery Series:

  Deadly Pumpkin Slice

  A Catered Christmas Killer

  Carol’s books can be read and enjoyed in any order.

  Enjoy a complimentary first chapter from Glazed & Confused: Murder, Thieves and Buried Treasure