“I really don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never seen him pay attention to a cup like that before. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
Sherlock nudged the console a third time. As the cup started to wobble in place, I snatched it out of its holder and scowled. However, before the words I wanted to say could come out of my mouth, I caught sight of the logo on the cup: Farmhouse Bakery. I slowly looked back at Sherlock. Was he suggesting we needed to swing by Taylor’s shop? There was no way he could possibly know whether or not the fugitive we were looking for was in the bakery, was there?
As we drove farther out of town, Sherlock grew more and more antsy. Finally, just before he outright howled at me, I turned to Jillian.
“There’s no way he could be that smart.”
“What? Who, Sherlock?”
“Yeah. I think…”
Sherlock suddenly lunged forward and closed his teeth around the lid and gently pulled the cup out of the holder. There, clearly visible on the cup, was the telltale house and barn logo that denoted Taylor’s bakery.
“Umm, I think we really need to head to Farmhouse Bakery now, and I think you should step on it.”
“What for?” Jillian inquired.
I reached out to take the cup from Sherlock and held it up so my new girlfriend could see the logo.
“He just pulled this thing out of your console. Without spilling it, I might add.”
Jillian stared at the paper cup for a few moments before she pulled over to the side of the road and executed a safe U-turn. As we headed back into town, I took out my cell and called Vance.
“Zack? What is it? I’m kinda busy here.”
“We need to go to Farmhouse Bakery.”
“What? Why?”
“Let’s call it ‘canine intuition’.”
“Canine intuition? What… does that mean what I think it means?”
“You’ve seen Sherlock at work. We were headed out of town when he drew our attention to the coffee cup that Jillian had in her car. Then, when we didn’t do anything about it, he pulled the cup out of the holder. It was from Farmhouse Bakery. I think it’s worth checking out, pal. Like I said, I ‘m headed in that direction now.”
“I’ll call Taylor and have her meet us there. I’m on my way. Sherlock had better know what he’s doing.”
“If he doesn’t, then you get to tell him he’s grounded.”
Vance laughed and hung up.
Farmhouse Bakery was, understandably, still closed. The parking lot was empty, except Taylor’s car was already there. Also present was a red late model Datsun pickup. If I had to guess, I’d say Taylor and one of her employees were going through her extensive list of supplies, looking for problems.
Vance parked next to Taylor’s car and hurried towards the door.
“Stay put, guys,” I ordered the dogs. “Hold down the fort, would you?”
Taylor was just unlocking the door as I joined Vance.
“Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to be here,” Taylor began. “Now that I don’t have to watch Zack’s dogs anymore, I wanted to make myself useful, so I stopped by here.”
I glanced toward the counter and saw one of Taylor’s young high school employees behind the counter. I tried to remember what her name was. After a few moments, I gave up and was about to ask about her, when Vance beat me to it.
“Who’s your helper?” Vance wanted to know. “And how’d you persuade her to come in on her day off?”
Taylor twisted around to look at the counter.
“Who, Emily? She was actually already here when I got here. I honestly don’t think she had anything else to do, so I asked her if she’d be willing to help me prepare an order to replace my supplies.”
Vance suddenly frowned as he looked over at Emily. The young high schooler was looking down, and after a few moments, ducked out of sight. She appeared a few moments later, holding a large plastic bin. She still refused to make eye contact with either of us.
“Don’t worry about Emily,” Taylor was telling us. “She’s a good kid and a hard worker.”
Vance turned to look at me and held out a hand, “Well? Sherlock wanted to come here. Any idea why?”
I frowned as I looked at Emily, “Does she have a key to this place?”
Taylor nodded, “Yes. All my employees do.”
“Was she already in here when you got here?” I wanted to know.
Surprised, Vance glanced quickly over at Emily before returning his attention to Taylor, who had started to nod.
“Yeah, she was. I thought that was odd, but she assured me she was just picking up a few personal things. She said she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to continue working here, since we were closed yesterday.”
“Don’t you find that suspicious/” Vance asked, as he studied Emily’s movements behind the counter. The girl was still refusing to look up from whatever she was doing.
Taylor shrugged, “Yes, I suppose so. However, Emily has worked here for nearly a year now without any problems. I know you don’t think she’s involved, right?”
I glanced back at the car to make sure the dogs were all right. What I saw had me gasping with surprise. Sherlock had managed to jump into the front seat and was going ballistic. The hair on his back was sticking up, he was barking like crazy, and he was practically bouncing up and down on his front legs. Watson was also chiming in, but not nearly as much as Sherlock. Both dogs were staring straight at the store. They weren’t barking at me, nor Vance, nor Taylor, for that matter. If I didn’t know any better, they were barking at Emily.
I turned to regard the girl. Seriously? What did Sherlock have against her? I nudged Vance and looked pointedly at the car. Vance studied the barking dogs for a few moment before slowly turning to look at Emily, too. He slowly strode towards the counter.
“Emily, is it? Could you come here a second?”
The girl nervously swallowed and started twisting the apron she was wearing in her hands, practically tying it into knots.
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“Detective Vance Samuelson, PVPD. Could I get your name, please?”
“It’s Emily. You know what it is. I just heard you say my name.”
“Your full name please, Miss.”
“Emily Lynn Jordan.”
“Ms. Jordan,” Vance slowly began, as he pulled out his notebook, “what were you doing here when this business was shut down in the wake of an ongoing police investigation? That makes this a crime scene, yet you felt it was okay to come in here? Do you have any idea how much trouble that puts you in?”
The poor girl began to stammer, “I, er, uh, was just getting a few things that I had left here. You know, er, in case I wouldn’t have the opportunity later.”
“What things?” I asked from where I was standing, by Taylor.
Vance turned to look at me, but quickly looked back at the girl. He waited patiently for an answer, his pen poised to scribble the answer in his book. When several seconds had passed in utter silence, Vance looked up.
“Ms. Jordan? Would you answer the question, please? What items were you retrieving?”
“Umm, just some stuff that belonged to me. Like… like… a jacket. Yeah. I needed to pick up my jacket.”
“So, where is it?” Vance asked, looking left, then right, as he scanned the surface of the counter.
For the record, there were no jackets, sweaters, or any type of discarded clothing anywhere in sight.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Vance asked, as he reached for his sidearm.
The Staff Only door smacked open and one wild-eyed kid appeared, brandishing his own weapon. It was Alex all right, and he was pointing a snub-nosed revolver straight at Vance.
“Drop it, man. I said drop it!”
In the blink of an eye, Vance had drawn his weapon and had it trained on the teenager, “That’s not going to happen, son. Now, why don’t you do everyone a favor and lower that weapon before someone gets hurt. What do you say?”
“I’d say Emily and I are leaving. Now! Em, come on! We need to go!”
“But, what about your bottle?” the girl protested. “Did you get it?”
Alex’s free hand patted his left front pants pocket.
“Got it right here. Now, drop it, cop!”
Inexplicably, Vance lowered his gun, but did not drop it, “Where do you think you’re gonna go, kid? Do you have a plan for getting out of here?”
“It’s easy,” Alex sneered. “Emily and I are going out that door. We’re gonna drive away. If I see anyone try to follow me, then more people are going to get hurt. You get me?”
Vance shrugged, and then slipped his weapon back into his holster.
“Sure. Bon voyage.”
“What are you doing?” I hissed out, feeling both dismayed and annoyed at the same time. “You’re letting him leave? After all he’s done?”
Vance didn’t say a word as the two kids, holding hands, backed towards the door. Emily turned and unlocked the door by twisting a small lever counter-clockwise. A few moments later, they both disappeared around the corner.
“What are you doing?” I demanded again, as I rounded on Vance. “Since when do you let the bad guys…?”
I trailed off as we all heard a surprised yelp of pain. Then, Emily appeared, backing slowly toward the door, as clearly a more sinister threat had manifested. Five seconds later, she was back inside, walking backwards, and had her hands raised, as though someone had drawn a weapon on her. I cast a confused look at Vance, who, I might add, had a very smug look on his face.
What’s going on? I mouthed to Vance.
My friend held up a finger, signaling me to wait.
Two figures appeared. The first thing I thought of was David and Goliath. There was Alex, struggling futilely in the grip of the much larger man. In fact, the huge dude had wrapped a huge arm around the kid’s neck and was effortlessly hoisting Alex off the ground.
It was Burt. Burt Johnson, owner of Hidden Relics Antiques. I had met him once before last year, when I used his store as a hideout in order to ditch a tail. Burt was single-handedly the biggest man I have ever seen in my life. In person, that is. I also knew he was a former Ranger. That must be why Vance didn’t bother to prevent Alex and Emily out of the bakery. He must have known Burt was out there, waiting for them.
Well, whatever the reason, I was damn glad to see him.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Emily was pleading. “He didn’t mean to kill anyone.”
“Tell that to the families of the three dead victims,” Vance scoffed. The detective noticed the color of Alex’s face and patted the air. “Okay, Burt. You can let him down. I’ll take it from here. Do you know where the gun is?”
“I’ve got it in my pocket,” was Burt’s gruff reply. “Those with no firearm training have no business handling a gun.”
I sheepishly thought back to last night, when I was carrying around Vance’s gun in my back pocket. Best not to mention that to our large friend.
“Alex, you’re under arrest, charged with murder. You have the right to remain silent…”
EPILOGUE
Two days later, once the hype had died down from all the media coverage, myself, Jillian, Vance, Tori, Harry, and Julie met for dinner to celebrate. This time, Jillian made sure to include Taylor, who tried to bow out of it due to her being the only single person there. Since Taylor was now sitting on my left, with Jillian on my right, you can assume my girlfriend’s powers of persuasion are not to be taken lightly. So, where did we decide to meet for dinner? Much to my horror and dismay, and the delight of the others, we went back to Jillian’s favorite restaurant, Chateau Restaurant & Wine Bar.
Talk about being outvoted. It was a 6:1 vote in favor of going to Pomme Valley’s fanciest restaurant. Personally, I think it was because both Vance and Harry wanted to see what kind of nasty-ass entrée I’d end up ordering by mistake this time. Man alive, once my two male friends learned I had mistakenly ordered frog legs the last time I was here, and then actually ate it, they both practically wet themselves laughing.
Jerks.
Well, they weren’t going to be able to laugh at me this time. As soon as Jillian informed me that we’d be meeting our friends for dinner that night at my least favorite place in town, I promptly went to the library and checked out a book that I thought might be able to help me out. Concealing it within my dinner jacket pocket (yes, the book was that small), I felt confident enough to step foot back in the accursed place.
“Can you clarify something for me?” Jillian asked, the moment everyone was seated and had been served drinks. She was holding a flute of her very expensive Crystal Rose champagne, and was looking expectantly at Vance.
Vance nodded, as he reached for his glass of red wine, “Sure, if I can.”
“What did Alex have against Taylor? I mean, yes, we heard that Alex has an undeniable hatred towards her. Yes, he admitted to setting her up for those murders and to sabotaging – with Emily’s help – the equipment and supplies at the bakery. I want to know why.”
“So do I,” Tori added.
Julie nodded, “I’m curious, too.”
Vance set his wine glass down and turned to Taylor, “The answer to that lies with Taylor.”
We all turned to the curly blonde-haired woman sitting next to me. Taylor sighed, shook her head, and reached for her own glass of wine. Once she had taken a long drink, she turned to Jillian.
“I am so sorry.”
Jillian blinked with confusion, clearly caught off guard, “What? What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”
“I should’ve known Scott would never change.”
Jillian gasped and leaned back in her chair, “Scott? Your ex-husband, Scott? Taylor, I had him checked out.”
It was Taylor’s turn to be surprised, “You did? How? When?”
“I had to know he wasn’t causing any problems for you, so I hired a private investigator to track him down and let me know what he was up to.”
“He lives in Salt Lake City,” Vance added, before Taylor could say anything. “Sorry, Jillian. My way was much more economical. Once I entered his name into the system, it promptly spat back a report that said the state of Utah had issued him a driver’s license. The captain has a few friends on the force there, so he asked them to take a closer look. He’s still unscrupulous as hell, from what I was told, but he is keeping himself out of trouble.”
“You just said he’s the one who’s behind this whole thing,” I stated, as I reached for my own drink. For the record, no, it wasn’t soda. Ice water with a lemon wedge, if you must know. And yes, I would much rather have soda, but my beverage choice did earn me a look of surprise from Jillian, and then one of her argument-cancelling smiles. That alone was worth the blah taste.
“I said no such thing,” Vance contradicted. “I said the answer lies with Taylor. Her ex-husband actually has nothing to do with this.”
“I don’t get it,” I said, as I looked helplessly around the table. “What am I missing?”
Vance grinned, “Alex is the son of the ex-husband’s new wife.”
“What’s a young kid like that doing all the way down here without his family?” Tori demanded.
“Alex is over 18,” Vance informed us. “He graduated from school last year, so legally he can do whatever he wants.”
“Didn’t you say that he was a local high school student?” I asked, turning to Taylor. “Wouldn’t that be against the law if he impersonated a student?”
Taylor shook her head, “Don’t confuse me with Daryl Benson, from Wired Coffee & Café. I told you that Emily was a local high school student, which she is. I didn’t know anything about her boyfriend, Alex.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’ll keep my trap shut now.”
Taylor smiled and placed a hand over mine to give it a gentle squeeze.
“Continuing on,” Vance said, as he, well, continued on, “apparently, Scott, the ex, is still a prick. He’s emotionally abusive to
his new wife, which, according to Alex, made his mother miserable. Therefore, Alex figured his new stepfather’s former wife must be the one to blame for his own misery.”
“That’s nothing but a load of rubbish,” Taylor hotly retorted.
“We know it is,” Vance soothingly told her, “but Alex didn’t think so. He was worried about his mother. He was angry at his stepfather, but even angrier at you, because he thought the source of the anger originated from you.”
“That’s one messed up kid,” I decided.
“That’s one messed up kid who now has a criminal record,” Vance amended. “He’s charged with three counts of first degree murder, several assault and battery charges, and a slew of others I can’t think of at the moment. Oh, he’s not going anywhere any time soon.”
The waiter arrived to take our order. I glanced around the table to see both Vance and Harry silently studying me with grins on their faces. I looked over at Jillian, who met my eyes.
“These are the same dinner menus,” Jillian reminded me. “They’re still in French. Would you like some help translating?”
Shaking my head no, I reached inside my jacket pocket to pull out the book I had borrowed from the library: French/English to English/French. I plunked the book down on the table and began perusing the menu, occasionally looking up words to verify their meaning. Jillian stifled a laugh and made her own selection.
Not finding anything on the menu that even remotely sounded good, I ordered the same lobster raviolis that Jillian ordered the last time we were here. While not a fan of lobster, I could definitely stomach the taste a lot better than those damn frog legs. So, for today, I would eat raviolis made with a big sea bug and thank whatever deities exist that it wasn’t amphibian.
Vance suddenly snapped his fingers and then stretched an arm down to the floor, as if he had dropped a napkin. When he straightened, I saw that he had a large paper sack, and that it was stapled shut.
“Before I forget,” Vance was saying, as he handed the bag to me, “I need you to give this to Sherlock and Watson, compliments of the PVPD.”
Case of the Muffin Murders Page 19
