David wasn’t the only one who needed to walk a fine line because we were in a relationship. It was just as important that I tried not to trample his feelings—or his ego. Investigating crimes was his line of work. Although it had not been my intention, there was the possibility that he could view my sleuthing as an indictment of his skills as a detective.
He stared me down. “You seem to be forgetting that it’s my job to solve this.”
While I hated seeing his ego bruised, at that moment, I felt that it was more important to get to the core of the matter.
“How close are you to solving this?” I asked.
David was suddenly back on his heels. “I’m still working on it.”
“Do you have a hunch who the killer is?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Are you any further along than you were before?” I asked.
“I’m working on some things.”
That hardly inspired confidence in me. If anything, it only made me feel better that I had jumped in. To me, it was clear that he needed my help.
In order to prove it, I fed him one of the juicy details I had uncovered. “You may disagree with my methods, but they have worked. I have gotten some leads. For example, did you know Jake Williamson and Melissa Wilcox are romantically involved?”
The blank look on his face spoke volumes. “Really?”
I nodded. “That’s not all. How about that fact that Leah Stewart had been cheating on her husband with Patrick Doherty?”
“Wow.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
He took a moment to process what I had divulged. Surprisingly, after all I had just given him, he still didn’t warm up to me.
“Don’t get me wrong,” David replied. “I’m very appreciative that you got that information. It’s more about how you did it.”
“It’s not like I wanted to run around town questioning murder suspects. I would have much rather stayed at home. But I just can’t rest until the killer is brought to justice.”
The worry still weighed down his face. “I understand what you’re saying, and I sympathize with where you are coming from.”
I knew there was more that he wanted to say. He just seemed to be having trouble letting the words spill out.
“But—” I started saying.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you have no investigative experience. Meanwhile, I’m a trained detective. Please just let me handle this,” he replied.
One of our strong points as a couple was that we rarely argued. When it came to this topic, however, we just didn’t see eye to eye. So as much as I hated locking horns with him, my stance wasn’t about to change.
It pained me to do it, but I broke the bad news to him. “I know you want me to step aside, but I can’t.”
It wasn’t often that he got emotional with me when talking about professional matters, but he made a rare exception right then.
David poured his heart out to me. “Sabrina, I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. The thought of you being hurt, or worse…”
He trailed off as the prospect of finishing his sentence made him get choked up.
As I gazed deep into his eyes, it quickly became apparent just how worried he was about me. I had never seen him so concerned about me before.
It was impossible not to be touched by his show of emotions. While that still wasn’t enough to get me to drop this case, I was more than happy to meet him in the middle.
“Why don’t we investigate this case together?” I asked.
David became very quiet. My question just hung in the air, uncomfortably waiting for an answer. When his silence stretched longer than I expected, I tried to help him along.
“So what do you say?” I added.
Even after I’d put him on the spot, he didn’t reply. Instead, he stared deep into my eyes.
When I opened my mouth to prod him again, he finally spoke up.
“There’s nothing I can say that will make you quit investigating this case, is there?” David replied.
It troubled me not to be able to give him the answer that he wanted. Unfortunately, he’d have to settle for the truth.
I shook my head. “I’m not giving up until the killer has been found.”
David took a deep breath then replied, “If you’re going to insist on being that stubborn, I want to be by your side in case things turn violent.”
It was an inauspicious start to our partnership, but I would take it. Anything was preferable to being thrown off of this case. With the issue of my investigating the case having been finally settled, David and I could move on to more pressing issues. Namely, where to go from there.
David had an idea about what our next step should be.
Chapter Thirty-One
I knew it was my first murder investigation, but it seemed peculiar to me that David felt our best course of action right then was to grab a bite to eat. To me, that was a clear sign that his stomach was calling the shots, rather than his mind. But, being new to sleuthing, and experiencing a hunger pang of my own, I gladly took a drive over to my friend Shannon’s sandwich shop for what could be best described as a business dinner. By then, Shannon had gone home for the night, no doubt to try to come up with a solution for her love triangle.
Luckily, she had trained her employees well. The quality of the sandwiches remained high, no matter who was working any given shift. As David and I sat at in a cushiony booth, I took a bite of a deliciously gooey grilled sandwich while my boyfriend made quick work of a scrumptious Philly cheesesteak sandwich.
David had clearly been combating low blood sugar levels, as his mood improved with each bite he took into his sandwich. Unlike David, I took my time chowing down on my meal, treating each bite like it was something to be savored.
Pace of eating aside, with delicious food in our stomachs, our hunger subsided, allowing the case to take center stage again. As we began to go over the substantive details of the investigation, much to my delight, even though I had no investigative experience, the detective and I shared a number of the same hunches—as well as frustrations.
One particular observation proved too difficult for me to keep bottled up. “It’s crazy how guilty each of the suspects looks.”
“The mixture of motive and a lack of a verifiable alibi will do that,” he said.
“I just figured that by now one would stand out more than the rest.”
“Why do you think I haven’t arrested anyone for the crime yet?” David asked.
“I do have an especially bad feeling about Melissa, though.”
“I can’t disagree with that. At the same time, is there anyone you don’t have a bad feeling about?”
David had a good point. When I went through the suspects in my head, the appearance of innocence was hard to come by.
I nodded. “That’s so true. I mean, even Leah Stewart, who has a verifiable alibi, seems suspicious.”
His forehead wrinkled. “Do you think she convinced her friend to falsely corroborate her alibi?”
“I didn’t say that, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”
David scrunched his nose. “The problem is, we can’t prove that theory. The one thing I’ve learned about being a detective is that instincts can only take you so far. At some point, you need evidence to prove your hunches right.”
I exhaled. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a shred of evidence.”
David stirred his cola anxiously with his straw. “Which is exactly why we’re stuck treading water.”
“The crazy thing is, all of the suspects seemed to be on the verge of breaking when I questioned them. Then, at the last minute, they managed to find restraint.”
One of the refreshing aspects of sharing the nitty-gritty details of investigating this case was that I knew David could relate to what I was going through. Especially when it came to my last statement.
His eyes widened as a look of familiarity came to his face. “Interviews can be fru
strating like that. Especially when a near-revelation slips away from you at the last minute.”
Typically, discussing what bothered me brought me relief. In this case, airing my frustrations only made me even more irritated.
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
David stirred his drink again. “I know it sounds counterproductive, but sometimes the most effective strategy is to sit back and wait.”
My face contorted in confusion. “I have to admit. That was the last thing I expected you to say.”
“In my experience, when given enough time, a killer will eventually slip up.”
I didn’t question his experience. He certainly had more than I did. There just seemed to be one big flaw in his logic.
“What if this one doesn’t?” I asked.
A disturbing silence followed. Instead of replying, David took a big chug of his drink. He could delay answering, but I wasn’t about to let him refrain from responding. As I looked into David’s eyes, a queasy feeling came to my stomach. I began having awful flashbacks of my sister going missing.
“David, we can’t let this case go cold,” I said.
“I never said we would. I just told you that you need to be patient.”
If my mind wasn’t disturbed enough, at that moment, my subconscious decided to dig up an old factoid that David had once revealed to me about murder cases.
“You’re the one who told me that when the case is more than forty-eight hours old, the chances of solving it go drastically down,” I said.
David’s muscles tensed up. “While that’s technically true, it doesn’t mean the case can’t be solved. It just means that cracking it becomes harder.”
I exhaled. “It has been almost a week since the murder. The last thing we need is for this case to get even harder. As it is, I feel like we’re staring at a big puzzle and we’re missing one crucial piece.”
His eyebrows arched. “Welcome to my world.”
I retreated into my mind, hoping that the more I thought about the case, the better my chances would be that an answer would come to me.
David put his hand on my shoulder. “Do you know what I do in situations like this?”
As so often happened when I found myself in an emotionally uncomfortable position, a joke sprang from my lips. “I’m guessing the answer isn’t wine and chocolate.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No.”
“Then what?”
“Sleep,” he said.
“Sleep?”
He gazed deep into my eyes. “Trust me.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t understand how sleeping is going to help right now.”
“When you’re in the middle of a case, sometimes you focus on the details so intensely that your brain goes on overload. During times like that, the answer isn’t to keep taxing your mind but to give your head a break. I have found that it’s amazing what my mind can come up with if I give it a good night’s rest,” he replied.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It wasn’t the worst idea in the world. After all, I had been pushing myself all day. In addition, at that juncture, a better plan did not materialize in my mind. By the time we got done eating, my brain had turned to mush.
Maybe David was on to something. I had thrown myself at this case with complete abandon. The rest of my life had been pushed aside. In my desperation to uncover Andrew’s killer, I had become fixated on every detail to the point that it had become an obsession. Perhaps David was right that I was looking at everything at such a microscopic level that I could no longer see the forest for the trees.
In that case, some breathing room was truly in order. When I arrived home, I took David up on his advice. My body didn’t put up an argument. I ended up crashing out shortly after my head hit my pillow.
The next thing I knew, it was morning. The sun peeked through my window blinds as it climbed up the sky. For a moment, I wondered how much longer I would have slept had the sun not woken me from my slumber. That thought proved to be fleeting as my corgi, Snickerdoodle, jumped on the bed with his tongue out and his tail wagging.
A walk was on his mind, and I couldn’t turn down a jovial face like his. Unfortunately, while the walk brought joy to Snickerdoodle’s heart, it did not succeed in shaking off my grogginess. This was one of those times when caffeine would really come in handy. Knowing just the right place to get my coffee fix, I dropped Snickerdoodles off at home then headed over to Main Street for a latte.
Granted, I could have made my own latte at home, but I figured that a trip into town could do me good. Instead, on the drive over to Daley Buzz, I was struck by the fact that even with a full night of rest under my belt, I was still no closer to the truth than the day before.
Sigh.
So much for David’s plan.
While the additional sleep had proven fruitless so far, getting a latte in my system had managed to shake off my grogginess. With my brain fog now cleared up, I could focus on the case once again. I said a quick good-bye to Kelly, who had the unenviable job of working the early shift that morning.
After finishing up with Kelly, I headed toward the exit. As I approached the front door to the shop, I pulled out my phone to call David.
That was when life threw me a serious loop. The door to the coffee shop swung open, and a man from my past entered. Unfortunately, it wasn’t someone who I ever looked forward to seeing again. Instead, I found myself staring face to face with my ex-boyfriend. Talk about a surprising sight. As far as I knew, Wally Tuttle had not set foot in my family’s coffee shop since I had broken up with him nearly a year and a half ago.
That had been perfectly fine with me. He had been a drunk when I put an end to our relationship. That alcoholism was still dominating his life when I randomly ran into him at Treasure Pier one day a few months after our breakup. If anything, he looked like he had started to hit the bottle even harder after I had broken up with him. That unexpected encounter on the pier had been incredibly uncomfortable—mostly because Wally had gone on a drunken rant about how I had made a big mistake in cutting him loose.
He had been so belligerent that day that the idea of ever crossing paths with him again made my stomach feel queasy. I told myself that if I did spot him again in the future, that I would turn around and walk the other way.
As he stood before me in the coffee shop that morning, it was shocking how much had changed. Not just because I had taken on the role of amateur sleuth. It was more that Wally looked drastically different. I almost couldn’t believe how kind time had been to him.
What caught my attention the most were his eyes. I was used to seeing them bloodshot, but that morning, they were clear and vibrant. The alterations in his appearance didn’t stop there. His long shaggy hair and beard were gone. He was now clean-shaven with neatly trimmed brown hair. Wally had also upgraded his wardrobe. That morning, he wore a long-sleeved dress shirt, a sweater vest, and a pair of khaki slacks. There was no doubt in my mind that he was a changed man.
My mouth hung open. “Wally, is that really you?”
He smiled and nodded. “It is.”
“Wow. You look so different.”
Wally chuckled. “It turns out I clean up pretty well.”
“Yeah. It’s safe to say you’re in much better shape than the last time I saw you.”
I saw a look of embarrassment in his eyes. He took a moment of silence before speaking up. “What can I say? I’ve done some really disgraceful things in my life. When I look back on our relationship, I’m really ashamed of how I treated you.”
That apology was a long time coming—a little too long for my tastes. Don’t get me wrong. It was nice to finally hear the words. But for him to say them now, when I had already moved on to another chapter of my life, meant that they didn’t have nearly the same effect they would have once had.
If anything, having the topic of his past indiscretions brought up again made old wounds resurface. As an additional unexpected si
de effect, a slew of unwelcome emotions returned. I had spent so much time covering up those scars that I didn’t want to go over them again.
After all, I was in a good place in my life romantically. The last thing I wanted to do was rehash the details of an old breakup. Especially since Wally and I had gone our separate ways on such bad terms.
To me, the more interesting topic was how Wally had been able to make such a stunning turnaround. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done talking about the past. That put me in a difficult situation. I knew what he wanted to hear—that I forgave him. That I accepted his apology. That I didn’t hold any grudges.
It was a good thing he wasn’t holding his breath. I didn’t know what I was going to tell him, but it definitely wouldn’t be one of those things.
At the moment, silence was all I could muster.
What a time for words to fail me. Especially since my lack of a vocal response did not go unnoticed.
In an effort to get me to warm up to him, Wally elaborated on his previous statement.
“I know it’s a little late,” he said.
That might have been the understatement of the year. I could have brought up the fact that self-improvement had not been on his mind at any point during our relationship, but what good would that do? It was hard enough working through the pain when it had happened. The last thing I wanted to do was dredge it up again.
Instead of belaboring the point, I opted to take the high ground. It would be nice if I could tell you that I did that out of the goodness of my heart. In truth, I knew that accepting his apology was the shortest route to bringing an end to this conversation.
“Late is better than never,” I replied.
I prayed that he would leave the subject alone. The unsatisfied look in his eyes made me feel like the opposite was the case. Sensing that there was more that he wanted to get off of his chest, I felt a tinge of anxiety begin to course through my body. Despite my best efforts, my emotions started getting worked up again.
I had to change the subject before my anxiety spiraled out of control. “I’d rather not pick those old wounds.”
Chocolate With A Side Of Murder Page 16
