Murder and Food Porn: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 8)

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Murder and Food Porn: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 8) Page 11

by Dianne Harman


  “Found ‘em in the pantry,” Al said with a shrug. “Briana musta’ brought ‘em over.” Cassie’s daughter Briana lived in Seattle but was a regular visitor to their home, and even more so since she’d started dating Luke several months earlier. An interior designer, she was looking for a fixer-upper property on Bainbridge Island she could renovate and often met Luke when he was finished working so he could look at properties with her. She’d even confessed to knocking on people’s doors, unsolicited, to ask them if they’d be interested in selling their home. To date, that tactic had resulted in several polite refusals and several not-so-polite doors closed in her face. Al liked her go-getter attitude. “Keep slingin’ yer hook’ in the water til ya’ getta’ bite,” he was fond of telling her, or words to that effect.

  Cassie poured some coffee. “I’ll have to speak to Briana about her nutrition. Ever since I started writing the Food Spy column, I’ve become a lot more aware of what we put in our bodies. I was thinking of starting a vegetable garden. That fresh tomato salad we had with the fajitas last night made me want to grow our own. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Al said, glancing outside. “If we dig up the ground along the boundary, it might stop Dino from taking a short-cut from next door through the shrubbery instead of using the driveway. He keeps creepin’ up on me when I’m down on the dock and nearly gives me a heart attack.”

  “I think the Choco Breakfast Bites are more likely to give you a heart attack than Dino,” Cassie said. “I’ll ask Briana not to put temptation in your way like that. She’s coming over for dinner tonight, so I’ll have a word with her.”

  “If ya’ insist,” Al said. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the screen. “Yo, Rob,” he said, accepting the call. “Any news?” He smiled at Cassie, who got up and began to make toast.

  “Yes, I’ve heard from my source about Hector Delgado,” Rob began. “Not only did Hector make an appearance at the Hispanic Group’s meeting last night, he made a rousing speech about the importance of not diluting the Hispanic heritage. What’s surprising is, he rarely attended any meetings before, and he certainly was never vocal at any of them. Seems like his attitude has taken a sudden about-face.”

  “What did he say in this impassioned speech of his?” Al asked. Cassie set some buttered toast in front of him, along with a pot of their friend DeeDee’s homemade blackberry jam. He began to slather the jam onto the toast.

  “It was all about how he realized the error of his ways dating white women in the past. He said he’d been guilty of having his head turned by many a pretty face regardless of color, but when it came to settling down and starting a family he advised the people at the meeting to be more discerning.”

  “Hmm.” Al munched on his toast. “Hector thinks it’s okay to date any woman, but his racism kicks in when it comes to marriage and kids, is that right?”

  “Pretty much. He was encouraging the men to only marry Hispanic women, or their children would be mixed-race, lacking identity and spurned by both the white and Hispanic communities. He said an integrated society is a myth, and Hispanics need to stand up for themselves and not be duped into accepting the lie that multicultural families can live in harmony. In his opinion,” Rob went on, “it can only lead to further Hispanic marginalization. He pointed the finger at the assembled group, saying they needed to take action without delay and spread the word, or face the consequences.”

  “Wow. Sounds like he really thought it through. I wonder what happened to make him change his mind.” From what Al had learned from Toni’s cell phone history, Hector had made numerous calls to Toni in the weeks before her death, including one on the day she died. “The guy was relentless in his pursuit of Toni to the point of stalkin’ her. In fact, I’m surprised Toni never reported him to the authorities.”

  “Toni never reported who to the authorities?” Hillary had just walked into the kitchen with Red, and Al looked up.

  “Hector Delgado,” he mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes and turned to Cassie, who was pouring her a mug of coffee. Al stepped outside onto the patio to continue the call.

  “Maybe somethin’ happened to give him an epiphany,” Rob said, as Al looked across the garden to where Cassie was thinking of digging her vegetable garden. Or rather, where he would most likely be doing the digging. “I’ve had an epiphany myself,” he mumbled, his face lighting up. He congratulated himself inwardly on his idea.

  I’ll talk to Dino later, see if he wants to spring for half the cost of a gate between our gardens down by the water. I’ll put a bell on the gate then I can hear him comin.’

  “What was that?” Rob sounded confused.

  Al chuckled. “Nothin’, don’t mind me.”

  “Here’s the clincher,” Rob said. “The evening Toni was murdered, Hector was in Portland. When Hector’s speech was finished last night, another man stood up. He talked about how he had met with Hector the previous afternoon and driven him to Portland to speak to a group of men who are starting a chapter down there. Said he and Hector had talked to the men and gotten back very late that night, but it was worth it. Then he asked for referrals for recruits for the new chapter.”

  “How convenient,” Al said. “Have ya’ verified he was in Portland and his speech wasn’t just an elaborate cover with some accomplice who was primed to say that?”

  He listened while Rob explained how his guy had been in touch with a contact of his in Portland who did the same thing Rob’s contact did for PI’s and the police, infiltrating Hispanic groups. The two of them shared info, so Rob’s guy called him to see if he could get confirmation that Hector was in Portland. “He was definitely there,” Rob confirmed. “Plenty of people saw him.”

  “Guess we can eliminate him as a suspect, in that case,” Al said. “What about Ethan? Any more progress now that ya’ know his real first name is George?”

  “Actually, it’s George Henry Edward Doyle, to be precise. And yes, suddenly everything’s fallen into place. He’s in Seattle and has been for several weeks. He’s renting a place down at the Waterfront Palace. A dating profile in the name of Henry Doyle, with Ethan’s picture on it, was recently posted on the Sugar Cougars website. He has himself down as a Porsche-loving internet entrepreneur, but in reality, his current mode of transport is a beat-up old green Chevy. He’s looking for love again.”

  “On the prowl, more like.” Al wondered how many women Ethan had conned. “Hope he meets a cougar who’s more predatory than he is. Do we know his whereabouts when Toni was killed?”

  “I’m still waiting for a trace on his phone’s GPS to pinpoint his exact location during the window of time when the murder took place. We know he called Toni earlier in the day, but he wasn’t the only person of interest to do so. Tyler Alexander also called her, as well as Hector, although we can rule Hector out.”

  Hillary peered out from the kitchen to see if Al was free, and he squeezed his thumb and index finger together indicating he wouldn’t be much longer.

  “I also got the name of the shrink Sophia Waters has been seeing,” Rob went on. “My source had to cut the conversation short unexpectedly, and they didn’t say anything we don’t already know, just that she suffers from depression and anxiety. Do you want to give the doc a call and see if you can find out anything?”

  “Sure, send me the details.” Al was aware of Hillary hovering by the doorway. “Thanks, Rob. I’ll talk to ya’ later. Bye.”

  He turned to Hillary, who was wearing a worried expression. “Al, I was wondering if you would mind coming to Toni’s house with me this morning?” she asked him. “I want to pick up a few more things. Cassie said I could stay here as long as I want, and I don’t really feel comfortable going back there by myself.”

  Al walked towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’d be happy to. Ima gonna’ make a quick call first, and then we’ll go. How does that sound?”

  A look of relief crossed Hillary’s face. “Wonderful, thanks. I’ll go get
ready.”

  Hillary went back inside through the kitchen, and Cassie appeared before Al could dial the number Rob had just sent him. “Are you finished with breakfast?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, Ima full of rocket fuel, and good to go.”

  “That’s good.” Cassie smiled. “I’ll stop by the hardware store later today and buy you a shovel, so you can dig your own you know what.”

  “That’s why I love ya’,” Al said, blowing her a kiss. “Yer’ always lookin’ out fer me.”

  He glanced back at his phone and punched in the number for Dr. Chin, Sophia Waters’ psychiatrist. After introducing himself and explaining he’d been hired by the sister of a woman who was murdered to help solve the case, and with the full cooperation of the Bainbridge Police Department because they were understaffed, he cut straight to the chase.

  “The thing is, Dr. Chin, I need more information regardin’ one of yer’ patients, Sophia Waters. It’s critical to the murder case.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. De Duco, I’m not at liberty to discuss any personal information pertaining to the patients I’m treating. I’m bound by patient confidentially both professionally and ethically.” Dr. Chin’s tone was snappy. “To be frank, I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

  The reply was exactly what Al had expected, and his response rolled off his tongue. “I know that due to HIPAA conformity ya’ can’t divulge any information on her, but it’s my understanding that if a patient is a danger to herself or someone else, yer’ under an obligation to say so. That’s what Ima askin’ ya’, Doc, if ya’ believe Sophia poses a threat to herself or anyone else?”

  He heard Dr. Chin take a sharp inhalation of breath. “Absolutely not. I’ve been seeing her for over a year. Never, in all that time, have I ever felt that her own, or anyone else’s life was in danger. Sophia has some, how shall I put it, issues…that are being worked on. Medication is helping them. If anything, her actions are a typical cry for help. That’s really all I can say.”

  Al continued regardless. “Just wonderin’ Doc, did she ever discuss Toni Adams or Jace Carson with you? Toni’s the woman who was murdered. Jace, as ya’ probably know, is Sophia’s ex-boyfriend who recently dumped her. Were any of Sophia’s issues to do with the fact that she was angry at Jace seein’ Toni, by any chance?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t elaborate any further. I hope you understand.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Thanks, Doc.”

  Al ended the call and glanced at his watch. The day was young, and he’d just eliminated two more suspects. He strode into the kitchen, where Red had his nose stuck in his dog dish. “Let’s go buddy,” Al said, bending down to pet his silken coat, and waiting for Red to finish eating. “We got work to do.”

  When Red was done, they went into the hallway and he yelled upstairs to Hillary. “Y’all ready up there?”

  “Coming now!” she yelled back.

  Al smiled. After going to Toni’s house with Hillary, he decided he’d head for Seattle. It was time to pay both Tyler Alexander and Ethan Doyle a surprise visit.

  CHAPTER 17

  Al turned his car into the driveway of Toni’s home, and noticed that papers were sticking out of the mailbox at the end of the driveway. There was also a newspaper lying on the doormat next to the front door. As he pulled up in front of the garage, Hillary searched around in her purse for the door keys. Red poked his head between the two front seats and stared at Al.

  “I know that look,” Al said. He got out and opened the door for Red, attaching his leash. “Ima gonna’ walk Red over to a tree before we go into the house,” he said to Hillary, who had climbed out the other side of the car and was walking towards the house. “Won’t be long.”

  Hillary stopped and turned around. Sensing her hesitation, Al added, “Why don’tcha wait a sec, and we’ll come in with ya’? We’ll be right there.”

  Hillary smiled and waved them away. “It’s fine, I’m just being silly. I’ll go on ahead and grab my stuff. I’ll probably be back out by the time you finish with Red.”

  “Fine. Jes’ promise me ya’ won’t go into the great room, got it?”

  “Promise.”

  Al watched Hillary enter the house and then began to stroll down the driveway with Red, letting him off the leash when they came to a cluster of trees. While Red was doing his business, Al walked a short distance to the mailbox and reached inside to remove its contents. He nodded to an elderly woman approaching with a black labradoodle on a leash. “Mornin’. Nice day fer a walk.”

  The woman’s pace quickened, and when she reached where Al was standing she came to a stop. “Stay, Batman,” she said to the dog, before looking up at Al. “I heard the terrible news about Toni. She was a good neighbor, and a very nice person. It’s quiet around here, and we all look out for each other. It’s been a big shock to our community. I wish I could have done something. Are you a relative of hers? I wanted to pass on my condolences to her sister.”

  Al gave her a warm smile. Although etched with fine lines, the skin on the woman’s face was soft and pale, and her light blue eyes displayed her concern.

  “Jes’ a friend of the family,” he said. He motioned towards the house. “Hillary’s inside, if ya’ wanna’ speak to her?”

  The woman shook her head. “I would, but I’m taking Batman to his Pawsalates class.”

  Al scratched his head. He had no idea what the woman was talking about, but it sounded vaguely like something Cassie went to on Monday nights.

  “Please, tell her you spoke to Blythe Duncan,” the woman continued. “I’ll try and catch her next time she’s here.”

  “I will,” Al said, noticing the woman looking down the street. She was frowning.

  “There’s that car again,” she muttered.

  Al followed her gaze.

  She pointed at a car parked half a block down the street. “That old green one. I’ve never seen it before this week, and since then it’s been here several times, usually parked in the same place. No one seems to know who owns it.”

  When Al saw the battered Chevrolet, his heart began to thump. “Blythe, I gotta’ go,” he said, turning and breaking into a run back up the driveway. “Red!” he called, and the dog came bounding out from the trees and raced ahead, reaching the house several seconds before him. Red waited while Al caught up.

  “Ssh,” Al said, as they walked inside together. Red’s ears pricked up as the hackles running down the center of his back stood up and turned a dark color. Al sensed that the dog knew something was wrong. He stopped and listened to where the sound of voices was audible from further down the hallway. Creeping slowly forward so the hardwood floor didn’t creak, he inched towards the open doorway of the small office situated in the room next to the kitchen. Red by his side, he stopped to just where he could see into the room. Sizing up the situation, Al pulled his gun from his waistband, aimed, and got ready for the right moment to fire.

  *****

  When Hillary stepped inside Toni’s house, the loss that had seemed more distant when she was at Al and Cassie’s home immediately came back to hit her with a thud. She tried not to look at the family photos in the hallway, knowing if she did she would crumple into a mess that she wasn’t sure she would recover from. Even so, she could feel Toni’s eyes looking at her from the walls, her smile frozen for eternity.

  She closed her eyes for a second. The smell of the house was familiar, Toni’s scent still lingering in the air. Hillary realized it was the silence that was disconcerting, since usually the home was filled with noise. If it wasn’t coming from Toni’s incessant chatter, it was from music playing or a television set, or sometimes any combination of all three.

  Making her way upstairs, she entered Toni’s bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed. The pillows were still propped up the way Toni had left them, the pink silk bedspread creased from when her sister had been lying there with her laptop on the day she died, as was her habit. Hillary picked up the photo of Toni and Jace, and r
emembered she needed to call Jace about the note they’d found containing Toni’s answer to his marriage proposal. It was bittersweet news she’d have to deliver.

  Hearing Al moving around downstairs was the reality check she needed to get on with what she was there to do. She walked from Toni’s bedroom into the small guest room next door. She stuffed the rest of her clothes into a large shopping bag she’d brought with her and then went into the bathroom.

  A loud crash from downstairs made her stop. She held her breath. Someone was walking around downstairs, talking to themselves, banging doors and slamming into things. It didn’t sound like Al. One thing was for certain, they weren’t very happy about something.

  Leaving her bag, Hillary headed for the stairs, looking through the banister spindles to make sure there was no one in the hallway. She went down the stairs and had reached the bottom step when a voice stopped her in her tracks. She froze and waited for the person to come into view.

  “Well, lookie who’s here.” Ethan appeared at the bottom of the staircase and sneered at her, gun drawn. He took a step towards her, grabbed her by the hair, and said, “Don’t just stand there, come on down.” With that he yanked her off the bottom stair step.

  Hillary winced as he pushed her down the hallway into Toni’s small office, the gun poking into the small of her back. Inside the room, the bookcase was overturned, its contents strewn across the floor. The desk drawers had been pulled out and ransacked. Ethan shoved her from behind. “Over there,” he commanded, “Sit in that chair where I can see you, and don’t move.”

  Trembling, Hillary walked to the corner of the room and sat in the small armchair he’d indicated, facing her captor. She was desperately trying to think of a way to escape, but an overriding feeling of nausea was making it more likely that she was about to throw up. She half-retched, and took a gulp of air, urging herself to try and hold it together until Al got there.

 

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