Mike ignored his comment. "It's licensed, and that's all that matters."
Brian heaved a sigh. "Okay, let's hope it's not needed. We'll have someone out here later tonight. To make sure I have all my facts straight, we're looking for a guy about Sally's height with a possible squeaky voice?"
"And an axe to grind," Mike put in.
"Curtis is too tall to be the gunman," I said. "But if he's having an affair with Tina, I think he must be involved." Another idea struck me. "Trevor's ex-wife, Erica, might know something. Maybe I should talk to her again. She's close to Trevor's sister, Morgan, and doesn't like Tina. She said that Trevor was involved with Tina while he was still married to her, although Tina denied it."
Brian rubbed the back of his neck. "No harm in checking it out, I guess. Are you going to stop and see her?"
"I don't have time right now. I need to get back to the bakery and help Josie, but I'll call her from there."
"Please be careful," he said. "Remember, we'll be watching the house tonight. I want to nail this guy as much as you two do."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When I arrived back at the bakery, I was both surprised and delighted to see several customers waiting in line. Maybe things were finally looking up.
Josie glanced up in relief from behind the display case. "Thank goodness," she said. "I was about to call Mickey and see if he could stop in for a couple of hours to help."
I ran into the back room, washed my hands, and then waited on the next customer in line. It was none other than Mrs. Gavelli's stud, Ronald Feathers. "Hello, Mr. Feathers. What will it be? The usual? Two jelly cookies to go?"
He shook his head. "No, cutie. I want to try some of those special coffin cookies I keep hearing about."
"Heaven help us." Josie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
"How does everyone know about these already?" I asked her in a low tone. "They were supposed to be kept under wraps until tomorrow."
Josie looked sheepish. "Sorry, Sal. I put some in the case because people have been asking for them. It saves me running into the back room every two minutes."
"Didn't you read your father's blog this morning, honey?" Mrs. Jackson addressed me. She was a sixty-something woman who wore her grayish hair in the outdated beehive style. "He talked about the cookies in his post."
That explained everything. My father couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. Sighing, I glanced into the case at the aforementioned cookies. They did look good, but then again, so did everything that Josie made. Josie had used the recipe for the fudgy delight cookies—a standard sugar cookie recipe with the addition of fudge. She'd shaped and cut the dough to fit the coffin cookie cutters she'd bought online. I still couldn't believe that there was such a thing. After she assembled them, the cookies and lid were covered in chocolate fudge frosting. She'd even created a display of white flowers in the shape of a cross on the lid. Their similarity to a real coffin was so lifelike that it was creepy. Still, Josie had done a terrific job.
Because of the extra labor involved with making each cookie, we had decided to charge a higher price than usual. I was all for selling some today—we couldn't afford to turn away business at this point. "Can we spare some extras for the customers?" I asked.
Josie nodded. "I've got batter in the fridge for a thousand. I'll be here all night, but that's okay." She whispered in my ear, "I hate to say this, but they might become our biggest seller yet. Even more popular than the fortune cookies."
It was a disturbing thought. Given everything that had been happening in my life lately, though, we needed the extra money they were bringing in. I placed two in a box for Mr. Feathers, accepted his handful of quarters, and then waited on Mrs. Jackson.
"I'll take a dozen of those death bed cookies," she piped up cheerfully. "And I can't wait to see the clothes your mother's going to model during the fashion show portion of the book signing."
I sucked in a deep breath but managed a small smile for her. The so-called book signing was turning into a freak show. Hopefully my father was not planning on bringing the coffin that he kept in his living room. I'd be forced to put my foot down then.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. When the crowd started to thin out at about three thirty, we decided to shut the doors early to work on the cookies. With Josie's instructions, I helped assemble them but left the decorating part to her. When I glanced up at the clock again, I saw that it was almost five. I'd forgotten about calling Erica and reached for my phone. She answered on the first ring.
It took a minute for her to remember who I was. "Oh, right. Sally—the one whose husband got shot along with Trevor. I saw you on the news during my lunch break today. Was that taped at your house?"
"Yes, it was live." I didn't plan on watching the interview myself. My television experiences never went well. "Erica, I'm wondering if I can ask you something. It's extremely personal."
There was silence on the other end. "Hmm. I'm guessing it has something to do with Trevor and that cheap tramp he knocked up."
"You know that Tina's pregnant?"
"Sure, I know. Morgan told me after Trevor confided in her. He was real upset about it too."
"How come you never had any children?" Oh, shoot. Me and my big mouth. "I'm sorry, another personal question. Please forgive me. That's none of my business."
A dog whined in the background as Erica spoke. Good old Donny, no doubt. "Oh, that's all right," she said. "We talked about kids a few times, but I never wanted them. Trevor didn't seem to care either way. He said that I was the boss and the decision was up to me. To find out that bimbo was knocked up must have felt like someone threw cold water over his head. She definitely trapped him." As she chatted, the barking in the background grew louder and more incessant. "Donny, shush!"
I exhaled sharply. "There's more. Your assumption about Curtis and Tina carrying on seems to be correct."
Donny continued his yapping. "Are you serious?" Erica asked loudly to be heard over the dog. "How did you find out?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I saw them together in an embrace." Donny's barking was giving me a headache. I loved dogs, especially my own, but this little dude was trying my patience.
Erica shouted into the phone. "I didn't know. But yeah—it would make sense. Maybe the two of them were planning to do away with Trevor so that they could be together. Maybe it's not even Trevor's baby."
The same thought had occurred to me as well, but I refrained from further comment. Mercifully, Donny's barking subsided. I had the feeling that Erica was trying to pump me for more information, but I didn't trust her. I couldn't afford to trust any of Trevor's friends and relatives, having learned the hard way before. "Well, I have a feeling everything will be fine soon."
"Yeah, that was obvious from your interview. I'm very happy to hear it. Hey, what time is your bakery open until? I'm having a craving for those awesome raspberry cheesecake cookies you guys make. It would give us the opportunity to talk some more."
"I'm sorry, but we're already closed for the night and I'm leaving for home shortly. We reopen tomorrow morning at nine if you'd like to stop by then."
"Bummer. Okay, tomorrow morning sounds good." She hesitated for a second. "Listen, I have some more information about Trevor—stuff that no one else knows, not even Morgan or Curtis. It might help you to track down the other gunman."
I gripped the phone tightly between my sweaty hands. Did Erica know where the money was? Maybe I should meet her tonight. No, I needed a breather, and I wanted to be with Mike. "Okay. I'll make sure I'm here first thing in the morning."
The barking began again. "No problem," Erica said to me and then addressed the dog. "Damn it, Donny. I swear if you don't stop that barking, you get no treats tonight. It is a shoe you are barking at. A shoe. Not another dog."
I rolled my eyes as I listened. Donny sounded like a smart one. There was a loud crash, and Erica let out a small squeak.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
She
sighed into the phone. "Yeah. That dopey dog knocked some dishes off the dining room table. He was on the chair and reached up to—oh, I need to go before he gets glass in his paw. I'll see you tomorrow morning." She clicked off without another word.
I shrugged into my coat, overwhelmed with guilt as I watched Josie getting out more batter for the cookies. "Maybe I should stay. This isn't right. Grandma's with Mike, and neither one of them will mind."
She waved a hand at me. "Sal, have you seen the bags under your eyes? Go home, have a nice dinner cooked à la Grandma, then cuddle up with your man for the night. If you feel inclined to come in early, that would be great, but no worries. You look like you're about ready to drop."
"I've been having a tough time sleeping lately," I admitted. "Oh, and don't forget, I'm holding the birthday dinner for Mike on Sunday. I hope you can make it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you really feeling up to cooking an entire meal for your family?"
"That was the initial plan, but Grandma Rosa offered to do it. This time, I wasn't too proud to take her up on it either."
"That woman is a godsend," Josie declared. "I'd give my right arm for a grandmother like her. For what it's worth, I think that's a good idea. I know you want to prove you can do it all on your own, but that book signing is going to wear us both out."
"The book signing is on Saturday, the day before."
She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. We'll be tired out for the entire weekend. I can only imagine what your parents have up their sleeves."
I cringed inwardly, thinking about my mother parading around in sequined, revealing black minidresses while my father signed books and popped coffin cookies into his mouth, dribbling frosting and crumbs everywhere. "Yeah, you're right. I love them dearly, but they are exhausting to be around."
"How did your conversation with Erica go?"
I shoved my phone into my purse and paused a minute before answering. "Fine. She wants to stop over tomorrow morning to tell me a few things about Trevor. I wonder if I should have Brian come by as well."
Josie cocked her head to the side and studied me. "What's bothering you? Do you think she's lying?"
"I don't know. That entire family is a bunch of liars. I don't know who or what to believe, but I'm convinced one of them was in on Trevor's murder. Erica's dog kept barking in the background, and I feel like I missed something that she said. Maybe it will come to me on the drive home."
Josie started to assemble another cookie. "Dogs are too much work. The kids keep pestering me for one, but who do you think would be cleaning up after it? Not them, that's for sure."
"You could use a watchdog when Rob works nights," I remarked.
She snorted. "No one in their right mind would come near my house. My boys are scary enough by themselves."
Fair enough. I'd babysat her kids and knew she spoke the truth. "All right, I'd better take off. Thanks for everything."
She winked at me. "That's what friends are for, hon."
On the drive home, I was once again reminded of how lucky I was. The air outside was chilly and damp, but thoughts of my family and friends warmed me. We couldn't change what had happened in the past, but there was still the future to look ahead to.
My phone buzzed, and I activated the hands free on my steering wheel. "Hello?"
"Princess," Mike said. "Where are you?"
"Only minutes away. Is everything okay?"
"All is good. Your mother said she texted you, but maybe you didn't see it yet. Gianna's gone into labor."
I gripped the steering wheel tightly between my hands. "Oh my God! I need to get to the hospital!" Sleep and dinner would have to wait. "Has Grandma left yet? Did she fix dinner for you? Did Brian leave a car outside?"
"Slow down," he laughed. "I haven't heard from Brian, and no, I don't see a car outside, but remember he said after six o'clock. It's only five thirty. Your grandmother just left, and yes, she fed me. She thinks it will be a while before Gianna delivers. She said the contractions are still a few minutes apart and the first baby usually doesn't come that quickly. But the doctor told Johnny to bring Gianna in anyway."
"Well, I want to be with her. Okay, I'll grab something to eat quick, give my man a kiss, and then be on my way out. Do you want to come with me?"
"I'm kind of tired, so I think I'll stay here," he said. "Your grandmother started to change my bandage for me. I told her I'd finish it, but I could use a hand when you get in. Oh, and don't take any chances. Park in the garage."
"Okay, see you in a minute."
As I pulled into our driveway, I thought about Gianna and her baby and the baby that Trevor would never know. If it even was his baby. What information did Erica have for me? I tried to recall what she'd said and replayed the conversation in my mind. Babies. It was all about babies these days. Gianna's, Trevor's. Erica said she hadn't wanted kids. Trevor said the decision was hers because she was the boss. Who else had said something like that recently? Donny's barking had driven me crazy. I didn't know how Erica could stand it. Then she'd shrieked—no, wait. That wasn't right. She'd squeaked, like the gunman who'd killed Trevor.
That was it. David—Benjamin had told me that his girlfriend liked to be called "boss." An icicle formed between my shoulder blades. Could it be… Oh my God. What if Erica had been the other gunman? She was my height. The other robber hadn't spoken a word, but Trevor had known this person. Had anyone else thought that the gunman could in fact have been a gunwoman?
Despite what Tina had told me, Trevor had been cheating on Erica while they were still married. Of course, Erica hated them. How could she not? Erica must have been the one who'd broken into Trevor's apartment looking for the money. She was having an affair with David—Benjamin, which explained why he wouldn't reveal his accomplice. Erica had told me that she had a new man in her life and that this time it might be the real thing. What a pair.
I'd call Brian as soon as I got inside. Impatiently I pressed the button on the remote clipped to my visor, but the garage door wouldn't open. Oh no. I hoped that wasn't broken too. There was no extra money available for repairs like this now. I got out of the car and tugged at the handle on the bottom of the door. Then I noticed there was something wedged into the side of the door. A piece of cardboard. Where had that come from? As I pulled it out, a step sounded behind me. I whirled around but wasn't fast enough.
Something heavy and painful crashed down on my skull. Stars appeared before my eyes as I staggered to my knees in the driveway. A swift kick to my chest followed, and I was flat on my back on the cold, hard gravel. The pain was excruciating as I gasped for air, but I did manage to open my eyes briefly and stare at the figure above me.
Erica leaned over me, a cruel smile displayed on her face. She held a length of rope in one hand and a gun in the other. I continued to lie there, unable to move and fighting the darkness that had started to descend upon me.
She placed a piece of electrical tape across my mouth. "Found this in your hubby's tool box. The perfect solution. Now I don't have to hear your irritating voice anymore." She lifted the garage door and then proceeded to drag my body across the cement floor. "Let's go inside. I'd like to get to know that good-looking husband of yours a little better."
CHAPTER TWENTY
"You're not going to get away with this." Mike's voice drifted somewhere above me. "And you'd better pray that my wife wakes up soon."
My head was throbbing with pain as I struggled to open my eyes. At first I couldn't remember what had happened, but I knew that I'd blacked out for at least a few minutes. The light hurt my eyes, but I couldn't shield them since my hands were tied behind my back. Spike was sniffing at my hair. He seemed satisfied that I was okay, because he trotted across the floor and into our bedroom, probably in search of a cozy place to nap.
I was lying on my back on the carpeted floor in front of the couch, with a full view of the kitchen and living room area. Mike was seated at our round oak dining room table. I could see that his leg
s and left arm were tied with rope to the chair. His right arm was free but useless in the sling. When he spotted me looking at him, his eyes softened with apparent relief.
Erica was busy rummaging through our kitchen cabinets and drawers, dumping contents onto the floor as she went along. No doubt she was looking for the money Trevor supposedly had. My insides went cold as I watched her. What would she do to us when she didn't find it? But I already knew the answer. Erica had killed her ex-husband in cold blood, and she wouldn't hesitate to get rid of us too.
Erica slammed one of the drawers shut and came to stand beside Mike's chair, looking down at him like he was lunch. She glanced in my direction and laughed as she watched me struggling with the ropes around my wrists. With her gaze pinned on me, she ran her hands freely through Mike's curly hair. Rage burned inside me like an inferno. Who does she think she is? The more I struggled with the rope, the more it cut into my flesh. Defeated, I finally lay still. It was useless. All I could do was lie here and watch as that woman put her hands all over my husband.
"I'm glad I didn't take that tape off your wife's mouth," Erica said as she ran a finger down Mike's chest. "I bet you could still show me a good time, even with one arm, huh, hot stuff?" She looked over at me again, and I shot her a death glare in return. "I'm sure Sally wouldn't mind if we got to know each other." She undid two of the buttons on his shirt and ran a hand over his bare chest while looking at me, clearly enjoying my silent rage.
"Take your hands off me," Mike said quietly. "I already told you we don't have the money."
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I saw the interview on television. You said you knew things."
"That was just a ruse to attract the other gunman—excuse me—gunwoman's attention."
Erica made a face "Well, if that's true, you're stupider than I thought. Because that would mean I have no choice but to kill you both. As you may already know, killing people doesn't bother me." Erica laughed. "Trevor always used to tell me I had no conscience. Guess he was right."
Sprinkled in Malice Page 18
