Honey-Baked Homicide

by Gayle Leeson

  It seemed that immediately afterward, I heard Rory barking like crazy in the backyard. I sat up in bed, heart racing. It wasn’t unusual for Rory to use his doggie door in the middle of the night, but he didn’t normally go bananas like this.

  I looked at the clock. It was two a.m. What on earth could be the matter with him at this hour?

  I threw off the covers, stepped into my slippers, and eased toward the kitchen. I needed a weapon. Anything—or anyone—could be out there. I took the cleaver from the knife block.

  If I could just get Rory inside and make sure he was safe, then I could get back into the house and lock the door. And push something in front of the doggie door. Of course, if the threat was small enough to fit through the doggie door, I could probably handle it. At least, I could with the help of this cleaver.

  I looked through the window of the door, but it wasn’t big enough for me to see much of anything. I couldn’t even see Rory.

  I moved to the windows over the sink. Now I could see Rory; he was scratching at the fence as if he wanted out. Did that mean that whoever or whatever was out there was on the other side of the fence? If so, that was a positive sign. It meant that it wasn’t likely to be a person after all. The fence didn’t lock. Anyone could open the gate. Whatever Rory was barking at must be an animal.

  Still, I kept the cleaver in my hand. I slowly unlocked the door and stepped onto the stoop. I was being as quiet as I possibly could, but of course, Rory heard me.

  The dog ran halfway between the fence and the door. Then he turned back to the fence as if he wanted me to either let him out or go with him to investigate. Neither was going to happen.

  “Rory! Come here!” I hissed.

  He started back toward me, but then there was a soft thump against the gate.

  Rory started barking with renewed fervor, went back to the fence, stood on his back legs, and scratched furiously.

  There was another thump. Was there an animal on the other side of that gate trying to get it open? What if it did come open? Or what if the animal—coyote, fox, bear?—found a way to climb over the fence?

  My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. Could there be a person on the other side of that fence? Someone toying with me before coming into the yard?

  “Come on, Rory,” I said loudly. “You know I haven’t fired this gun in a long time, but I’m still an excellent shot.”

  Okay, so Rory knew that I’d never used a gun in my life and that the cleaver I held was in no way, shape, or form a firearm. But, one, he wasn’t telling. And, two, it sounded better to say I had a gun than to threaten to cleave anyone who might come through the gate.

  Whether he was satisfied that we had the threat under control or he could hear the anxiety in my voice, Rory did as I asked and came to me. I scooped him up in one arm, fled into the house, and locked the door behind me. And I braced a chair under the doorknob.

  I looked for something to put in front of the doggie door because I was afraid that someone could reach through it and dislodge the chair. I went with the cast iron skillet. It was heavy, and if someone knocked it over, Rory would hear it and sound the alarm.

  Leaving the cleaver on the counter, I left the kitchen light on and went back into the bedroom. I peeped out the bedroom window, but I couldn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. I was glad.

  I was still unsettled, though. I locked the bedroom door, got Rory into bed with me, and pulled the covers up to my chin.

  Through all this commotion, I didn’t see or hear Princess Eloise. That wasn’t unusual, though. I believe that cat would sleep through a bombing and then come prissing into the war zone, tail twitching, appalled at what the dog and I had let happen.

  • • •

  I considered calling Ryan, but I realized I was probably overreacting. I did finally manage to fall back asleep, but I still felt tired when I woke up. It was as if part of me had been on alert all night. In the light of day, I felt ridiculous. I’d gotten so worked up over what had probably been a harmless animal.

  Once I got dressed and ready for work, I made sure Princess Eloise was happy and fed since I hadn’t seen her the night before. She protested loudly, but I picked her up and hugged her before I left. I also gave Rory some breakfast, and I made myself a slice of buttered toast.

  I’d packed up the cake the night before in a bakery box, and now I carried it out to the car. I put the cake on the passenger seat and then, almost as an afterthought, I closed the car door and went over to the gate that opened into the backyard. I wanted to see what sort of prints were there. Not that I was all that good at determining animals by their tracks, but I could distinguish between a dog and a cat. And I might be able to tell if the animal that had been lingering on the other side of the fence last night had been a bear.

  It crossed my mind that there might have been an injured animal there and that it might still be nearby. I hadn’t heard any yips or growls, but it would benefit me to be cautious anyway.

  I was looking at the ground as I walked the length of the fence to the gate. I didn’t see any tracks of any kind. In fact, I didn’t see anything at all, at least, not until I came upon the cigarette butt.

  I didn’t smoke. Nor did Mom, Aunt Bess, Jackie, or any of my friends. But I got goose bumps when I realized that whoever had been standing on the other side of my gate last night obviously did smoke.

  Chapter 13

  As I drove to work, I tried to remember who I knew or had met recently who smoked. Did Mr. Dougherty smoke? That would be a much more soothing explanation for me to believe—Mr. Dougherty was enjoying a cigarette while he tested the soil or rocks or whatever he did to see if there were any natural gas reserves beneath our property, and it had been left there before last night. I liked that idea much better than the thought that someone was smoking outside my back gate at two o’clock in the morning.

  That had to be it. It had to have been Mr. Dougherty. I’d never seen him smoke . . . hadn’t noticed a pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket . . . and he hadn’t smelled of cigarettes, but maybe he only smoked occasionally. Maybe he found testing for natural gas reserves stressful—especially if he wasn’t finding any—and having a cigarette calmed his nerves.

  There was still the nagging thought in the back of my mind that there could have been a person standing there outside my back gate last night . . . or rather, this morning. But why? Why would anyone simply stand there, especially long enough to smoke a cigarette? Was he—or she—debating on whether or not to try to break in . . . maybe weighing the risks against whatever he hoped to gain by doing so?

  I phoned Sarah. She was the only person I told that I’d gone to speak with Walter Jackson. Maybe she could help me put whatever had happened last night into perspective. She’d probably laugh and tell me that my overactive imagination had gotten the best of me. Of course it had been Mr. Dougherty smoking a cigarette on my lawn and what I’d heard last night had been some animal passing through.

  My call went to voice mail. Sarah was probably still asleep. I left a message asking her to call me this afternoon if she got time. When I arrived at the café, I parked and texted Sarah to tell her I’d left her a voice mail. Otherwise, she might not check it. Mom always would. My friends—not so much. It must have been a generational thing.

  I was still sitting in my car when Luis pulled in beside me. I smiled and waved.

  “Good morning,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here early . . . or that I’m a few minutes late. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I don’t have to be here alone this morning.”

  He drew his dark brows together. “Why? Did something happen?”

  I didn’t want him to be alarmed. And maybe nothing had happened. It could very well be my overactive imagination at work. “It’s just weird coming into work alone ever since we found Mr. Landon here in the parking lot. It just makes me feel more comfor
table with someone else here, that’s all.”

  He didn’t appear to be convinced, but he let the matter go. He nodded to the cake box I carried. “What’ve you got there?”

  “A pistachio pudding cake. Do you like pistachios?”

  “I sure do.”

  “It’s really delicious. Have a slice with your lunch.”

  “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  Shelly was the next to arrive, since Jackie wasn’t scheduled to come in until lunchtime. “Hey, sweeties! How is everybody this morning? Did either of you see that new game show on TV last night? It was so funny! There was this one little old lady, and she was the cutest, spunkiest grandma you ever did see.”

  I smiled. Normal felt great this morning. “Hi, Shelly. I didn’t see the show. Did you, Luis?”

  “No. Sounds like it was good, though.”

  “Oh, it was.” She spotted the cake I’d just removed from the box and placed on a cake plate. “Oooh, that looks scrumptious!”

  “Yes, it does,” Dilly said as she came through the door. “I spotted it even before I walked in here. I see that it’s chocolate. Does it have any other flavoring with it?”

  I explained that it was a pistachio pudding cake, and she asked me to box her up a piece to take home and have later.

  The door opened again, but I didn’t know who’d come in until Brendan Carver sauntered up to the counter and asked what everyone was making a fuss over.

  “It’s this cake Amy made last night,” Shelly said. “Doesn’t it look delicious?”

  Brendan looked at me. “I think it looks real good.”

  Joey joined Brendan and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “She does look good. I could go for some of that.”

  “You and me both. Maybe we can share it sometime.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Sometime real soon.”

  Their meaning wasn’t lost on me. It was, however, lost on Dilly.

  “Why would you want to share it? I know you can both afford to have your own.”

  “I believe you’d better enjoy your breakfast someplace else this morning,” I said.

  “Why?” Joey asked. “Our money’s as good as anybody else’s.”

  “I’m sure it is, but you’re making me uncomfortable. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

  He looked at Brendan and laughed. “Hear that, cousin? We’re making her hot under the collar.”

  “The lady asked you to go,” Luis said softly but determinedly.

  “Don’t get your dander up,” Brendan said. “We’re going.” He winked at me. “But hopefully we’ve not seen the last of you, Ms. Flowers.”

  He and Joey left but stood outside the door talking and looking back inside. After a minute, Joey blew me a kiss, and they both laughed as they went and got into Joey’s truck.

  “Shelly, would you please take care of Dilly’s breakfast order?” I asked. “I’ll be right back.”

  I went through the kitchen and stepped out the back door. I left the door open in case Brendan and Joey should for some reason come around here looking for me and I’d need to make a hasty retreat. I took my cell phone from my pocket and called Madelyn.

  “Hi, Amy,” she answered. “I’m driving back to Winter Garden right now and am about two hours out. Is there anything wrong?”

  “Actually, Joey and Brendan have been giving me a really hard time since you’ve been away.” I explained to her about Joey tailgating me and that the police were interested because a truck like her father’s had been spotted racing out of town on the night before we’d found Mr. Landon in the parking lot. “I believe the deputy wanted to determine whether the truck had been Joey’s or your dad’s. The next day, Joey came into the café angry because he thought I’d called the police on him.”

  “Well, that sounds like Joey. I’ll try to smooth things over with him when I get there. Is that all?”

  “Not exactly. I . . .” But exactly what were they doing that I could tattle on them about to Brendan’s big sister? I suddenly felt foolish. “I just feel like they’re trying to rattle my cage. Harmless stuff, really, and now I feel silly for calling and bothering you with it. But I’d like them to know I didn’t mean Joey any harm.”

  “I understand.”

  “It doesn’t add up. The way you described Brendan and the Brendan I’ve met sound like two different people.”

  “That’s because of Joey,” Madelyn said with a sigh of resignation in her voice. “When he’s around, Brendan apparently feels the need to act like a tough, super-cool guy to impress him.”

  “I’m terribly sorry I got off on the wrong foot with both of them.”

  “It’s all right, Amy. This has been a stressful time for our family. Maybe when everything calms down, you and Brendan can meet again under better circumstances and you can get to know my Brendan instead of Joey’s.”

  “I hope so.” I saw that I was getting a call from Sarah. “I’ll let you go. Again, I’m sorry to have bothered you with something so trivial.”

  “No problem. See you soon.”

  I switched over to Sarah’s call. “Hi there.”

  “How are you? You sounded kinda upset when you left your message.”

  “I feel silly about the whole thing now. Are you ready to laugh at me? I found a cigarette butt in my yard this morning and became convinced that whatever was driving Rory up the wall at two a.m. was a person.” I chuckled. “Then Brendan and Joey Carver came in here making double entendres about my pistachio pudding cake, and I told them to leave. Then I called and told Brendan’s sister on them. Which is exactly what she needed from me when she’s on her way back to Winter Garden to finalize her father’s funeral arrangements.”

  There was silence on the other end of the conversation.

  “Sarah, are you there?” I asked. “You’re not laughing.”

  “That’s because I don’t think this is funny,” she said. “You’ve convinced yourself that you’re overreacting. But given the fact that a man was found with his throat slit in your parking lot a week ago, I don’t think you are. Tell me what happened at two a.m.”

  I told her about waking up to Rory’s barking, going outside and not seeing anyone or anything. “There were a couple of thumps against the gate, but had it been a person, he or she could’ve easily opened the gate and come on inside.”

  “So either it was an animal or someone was trying to scare you.”

  “Right. It was probably an animal . . . most likely a cat.”

  “But then when you went to check it out before going to work, you found a cigarette butt,” she said. “Did you save it?”

  “You mean, did I bag it and tag it as evidence? You’ve been watching too many cop shows.”

  “Maybe so, but when you get home, get a Baggie and a pair of tweezers and save that cigarette butt. If anyone comes and bothers you again, it can be used to prove that they were there previously. It establishes a pattern of stalking.”

  “You’re serious,” I said.

  “Yes, I am. Label the bag with the date the cigarette butt was found.”

  “Okay.” Sarah was making me feel nervous again.

  “Tell me more about Joey and Brendan.”

  “It wasn’t so much what they said but how they said it. I felt threatened by them, and I asked them to leave.”

  “And did they go peaceably?” she asked.

  “Yes, but then they stood outside the door talking and laughing . . . and blowing kisses at me . . . before they got in Joey’s truck to leave.” I sighed. “I’m probably making mountains out of molehills here.”

  “Or you might not be. You went with your gut and asked them to leave. I’m proud of you for that. I’m afraid you haven’t got enough to ask a judge for a restraining order, though.”

  “Oh, I know that. They haven’t really done anything.”


  “Eh, that’s debatable,” said Sarah. “You feel like they’ve done something, and they’re upsetting you, so that’s your instincts warning you. They might simply be yanking your chain, or they could actually want to harm you. Either way, be extra careful. Would you like to stay with me for a day or two?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Thank you, though.”

  “I’ll call you back after work,” she said. “We’ll think of something.”

  • • •

  When Homer came in at ten a.m., he announced that his hero of the day was Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese monk and peace activist.

  “Seeing you reminds me of one of his quotes. ‘Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful.’” He considered me for a moment. “But I see something lying beneath that smile—something that tells me all isn’t right with you today. What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing really.”

  He flattened his lips. “Amy. You know you’ll tell me eventually.”

  “Okay. Brendan and Joey Carver were in this morning, and I asked them to leave.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Not anything overt exactly,” I said. “But I felt threatened by their behavior.”

  “And did they leave?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t tell him that they blew kisses at me from the door. Obnoxious oafs.

  “Have you spoken with Ryan about this?”

  I shook my head. “The last time I mentioned Joey to Ryan, Ryan went and talked with him. That resulted in Joey’s angry outburst here in the middle of the café and his telling me that ‘this isn’t over.’ I don’t want to jab that hornets’ nest again.”

  “Maybe not, but it might be what you have to do to make him stop harassing you.”

  “True. But it’s like my friend Sarah and I were discussing this morning—neither Joey nor Brendan have done anything they can’t explain away. If I accuse them of anything, they’ll make me look like I’m some sort of hysterical female.”