Winner Cake All

by Denise Swanson

  “Well…” Gray picked up another piece of bacon from the platter next to him. He pointed it at Dani before he took a bite. “I suppose you could have murdered her in a jealous rage.”

  Dani felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Was he serious?

  Gray must have noticed her distress because he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  He wrinkled his brow, clearly not believing her, but continued his thought. “Although since there’s no evidence that Drake had any interest in his ex and is obviously head over heels for you, there’s no logical reason that you’d be jealous.”

  “That’s right.” Dani took a deep breath and hid a smile. Was Spencer really head over heels for her? Mentally shaking her head at how easily she was distracted from the important conversation at hand, she quickly asked, “So who is on your list of suspects?”

  “Someone who owns a custom-designed, green-and-gold Mont d’Eau fountain pen. And who was willing to sacrifice something that cost twenty-five hundred dollars in order to shove it into Ms. Joubert’s eye socket.” Gray paused, then added, “And who knew that he or she could kill the vic using that method.”

  “Did you get prints from it?” Dani asked, crossing her fingers. If there were prints, she and Spencer could be totally eliminated.

  “There was only one, which was on the ink cartridge. The outside of the pen was wiped clean.” Gray blew out a frustrated breath. “And that print isn’t in the system.”

  Chapter 13

  Monday morning, as Spencer drove onto the Normalton University campus, he noticed the changing colors of the leaves on the trees that lined the road. At last, fall was making an appearance in central Illinois, and the chill in the air confirmed that the weather was finally catching up with the calendar.

  He was relieved that the local meteorologists were predicting a cold and wet Halloween. If it was warm and dry, more students would celebrate on the streets and outdoors in the quad. The frosty winds and rain would drive most of the college kids inside, where any rowdy situations were easier to contain.

  That was a good thing, since Spencer had had to cancel his morning plan to go over tactics and strategies with his security guards and push it back to the next day. His team needed some guidance regarding use of force during the often out-of-control upcoming holiday and he didn’t want to wait until the last minute to spot any potential problems among his staff.

  With Halloween falling on a Friday, the students had three days to party, and a lot of them would be steeped in alcohol for the duration. College kids acting as if they’d been smacked upside of the head by a Ouija board was always a PITA for campus security, and there were several new hires, as well as seasoned officers, who could use a review of the basics.

  Now, instead of working with his team, Spencer was headed to an appointment with the vice president in charge of university safety. He needed to tell her about his weekend activities, in case she got a telephone call or visit from the police. Having the cops show up at the VP’s office without any explanation or warning was a career-ending move.

  Christensen had taken the news about Spencer’s previous relationship with Yvette as well as could be expected. Actually, his attitude had been better than Spencer anticipated. The detective hadn’t given him a hard time about withholding information or threatened him or tried to intimidate him.

  In fact, during their early Sunday morning meeting, Christensen had acted as if he believed Spencer when he said that he didn’t have any reason to want his ex-wife dead. The detective’s behavior had been puzzling and even a little weird.

  After Christensen had confirmed that the police were officially treating Yvette’s death as a homicide, he had asked Spencer some reasonable questions, taken a few notes, and then, as if they were friends, he’d walked Spencer out of the police station and waved goodbye.

  Maybe Dani’s assertion that Christensen only saw her as a friend with a mutual interest in cooking was true. Spencer had observed them carefully as they worked together preparing food at the engagement party, and he had to admit there didn’t appear to be any sexual tension between them. The man treated Dani like a sister.

  Still, there was always the off chance that Christensen was playing it cool, both with Dani and the murder investigation. He could be targeting Spencer as a suspect while pretending he believed him. That was exactly what Spencer would do if their positions were reversed.

  With that in mind, Spencer knew he had to keep ahead of the curve and inform the university about his situation. He was reasonably sure his boss wouldn’t be too disturbed by the news, but she certainly would be ticked off if the cops broke it to her instead of him.

  Spencer carefully kept his speedometer at twenty-five miles per hour, the campus speed limit. Not only did he want to set a good example, going slowly gave him a chance to collect his thoughts and figure out the best approach to use on the vice president.

  The first time he’d met her, he recognized her as a tough cookie, and while he wasn’t afraid she’d fire him, he didn’t think she would welcome the information he might be a murder suspect either. University bigwigs weren’t known to be happy campers about anything that might bring bad publicity to their schools—especially anything that could make parents uneasy enough to withdraw their children from the college.

  Even driving at a crawl, his truck ate up the few miles from his town house to the administration offices and he arrived at 7:50 for his eight o’clock appointment. It was the newest structure on the college grounds and unlike the other more classical buildings, it reminded Spencer of a huge cement cardboard box that had been squeezed in the middle by some giant.

  The multi-angle edifice held an auditorium, administration offices, IT facilities, and a café. It was touted as a state-of-the-art addition to Normalton University’s largely traditional campus, but Spencer didn’t see the appeal. He preferred red brick and ivy to concrete and metal.

  As he crossed the sidewalk and went through the entrance, Spencer inhaled deeply. The lobby smelled of pine-scented disinfectant. The long counter that ran the length of the back wall had tidy stacks of papers in boxes lining the stainless-steel surface, and oddly enough, an old-fashioned brass desk bell, which he tapped lightly.

  There was no response, but a few minutes later a teenager bobbing to whatever he heard through his earbuds leisurely strolled out from behind a group of shelves and file cabinets. When the teen zeroed in on Spencer, he frowned.

  “We don’t open until eight.” The kid’s voice was loud, probably because he hadn’t bothered taking out his earbuds.

  “I have an appointment with Dr. Kayley.” Spencer bit back a lecture about being more aware of one’s surroundings. Anyone could come in here with a weapon and the kid wouldn’t know it until the first bullet hit him. “Is she in?”

  “Yeah.” The teen pointed up. “She’s in her office. Do you know the way?”

  “I do,” Spencer said, then asked, “Are you a student at the college?”

  “Yeah.” The teenager leaned his hip against the counter. “Why?”

  “Just wondering.” Spencer narrowed his eyes. The kid looked familiar, but he couldn’t place him. “What’s your major?”

  The teenager peered at him for a long moment, then muttered, “Parapsychology.” Before Spencer could comment, the kid thrust out his chin. “Don’t bother telling me that I’m not studying a real science or that I’m wasting my parents’ money on a useless degree or hum the Ghostbusters theme.”

  “Whoa, dude.” Spencer held up his palm. “I would never do that.”

  “Yeah?” The teenager’s tone was skeptical. “Well, everyone else does.” He shook his head. “Especially with Halloween coming up.”

  “That’s a shame.” Spencer put out his hand. “By the way, I’m Spencer Drake, head of campus security and I promise to take you seri
ously.”

  The young man tentatively shook Spencer’s hand and muttered, “I’m Will Luder.”

  “Good to meet you, Will.” Spencer smiled. “I think I’ve seen you around Fox Hall in the evenings when I’ve done walk-throughs.”

  “Yeah.” Will shrugged. “I help Professor Anderson with her research.”

  The young man wore a black T-shirt with a pair of dark jeans and an army jacket. His brown hair was short and he had spiky bangs.

  “That must be it.” Spencer’s mind immediately went to the poor young woman they’d rescued the Saturday before last. Like the previous student, she’d had no memory of how she got to Fox Hall dressed in animal skin clothing and pinned to the wall by two hatchets. She did admit to drinking heavily at several parties but couldn’t remember where she’d been last. “Have you noticed anything unusual going on in that building? People who shouldn’t be there?”

  Will opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider and said, “Nope. Not really.”

  Spencer considered pressing the teenager, but glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was 7:59. This was not an appointment he could afford to arrive at late. Tucking the kid’s name into his mental rolodex, Spencer kept his expression genial as he said goodbye to Will and hurried to the stairs.

  A minute later, Dr. Kayley greeted him from behind her desk. “Mr. Drake, please come in and take a seat. I’ll be with you in a second.”

  The vice president was a middle-aged woman with a blond bob and a serious expression. She wore a tan jacket over a print dress, and Spencer watched as she fingered a heavy gold necklace while she talked on the phone.

  Dr. Kayley concluded her conversation, hung up, then turned her attention to Spencer. “I was surprised to get your text. What’s so urgent? I hope nothing’s wrong in your department.”

  “No. I’m afraid this has to do with a personal matter.” Spencer sat stiffly in his chair. “My ex-wife was killed yesterday.”

  “Do you need time off to handle the arrangements?” Dr. Kayley asked. “We certainly can arrange for a couple of bereavement days.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Spencer shook his head. “I’m sure her fiancé will take care of that sort of thing.”

  “So?” Hitting her palm with the pen she’d been using to take notes while she was on the phone, Dr. Kayley stared at him for a moment before saying, “Then what can I do for you?”

  Spencer asked, “Did you hear about the tent collapse at the baseball stadium during the storm on Saturday night?”

  She frowned. “Was the woman who died in that accident your ex-wife?”

  “Yes.” Spencer nervously smoothed his fingers over the arm of the chair. “But it is highly probable that the pole that hit her wasn’t the cause of her death.”

  “Really?” Dr. Kayley’s expression was difficult to read. “Then how did she die?”

  “It’s not official yet.” Spencer took a breath, then continued, “But once the autopsy is complete, I believe the police will announce that she was murdered.”

  “Oh my.” Dr. Kayley crossed her arms. “And you know this how?”

  “I was at the event.” Spencer straightened the crease in his suit pants to avoid making eye contact. “And I spoke with the investigating officer yesterday morning.”

  “Because?” Dr. Kayley prompted, then didn’t wait for his answer. “Because as the woman’s ex-husband, you would be a suspect.”

  “That’s possible.” Spencer folded his hands in his lap to stop his fidgeting. “But Sunday’s conversation was to inform the detective of my prior relationship with Yvette and explain why he shouldn’t waste his time on me since I had nothing to gain from her death.”

  “Did the officer believe you?” Dr. Kayley demanded, worry crawling across her attractive features.

  “Detective Christensen stated that he couldn’t see a viable motive for me.” Spencer’s voice was somber. “But I’m sure I will come under a certain amount of scrutiny until the real killer is caught.”

  “Shoot!” Dr. Kayley slumped. “How long do you think that will be?”

  “I have no idea.” Spencer rubbed his chin. “But I’m hoping that it will be soon.”

  “Are you planning to call in some favors to see if there’s anyone in her past, besides you, that might have a grudge against her?”

  Spencer nodded. “I thought I might be able to provide some insight.”

  “Just don’t dig yourself a hole,” Dr. Kayley warned. “Make sure the police want your help and don’t view it as interference with their investigation.”

  “Something to consider.” Spencer agreed, then asked, “Do you need any more from me?”

  “No.” Dr. Kayley pinched her nose. “You’ve given me quite enough to worry about first thing Monday morning. But do keep me informed.”

  Spencer rose, leaned over the desk, and shook his boss’s hand. “Definitely.”

  Hurrying down the stairs, Spencer decided to take a few extra minutes and talk with Will Luder. He wanted to see if he could get the kid to reveal whatever he’d considered telling him earlier about Fox Hall. Unfortunately, when Spencer got to the lobby, there was a handwritten sign on the counter that said: CLOSED. INFORMATION WILL REOPEN AT NOON.

  Hmm! That was unusual. Had Will left suddenly in order to avoid Spencer?

  Returning to his truck, Spencer’s mind went over his lengthy to-do list. He was tempted to push it aside and stop over at the mansion to see Dani.

  Although he’d texted her yesterday that his meeting with Christensen had gone fine, her response seemed less than convinced that everything was okay. At least her own text after speaking to the detective had seemed more upbeat.

  Spencer would have suggested that he take Dani for a bite to eat Sunday night so they could go over their experiences with Christensen in person, but as usual, one of them had to work. Dani had a personal chef gig that evening and didn’t expect to be done much before midnight.

  Spencer was halfway to the mansion when he realized Dani would be knee deep in lunch-to-go preparation. Pulling over to the side of the street, Spencer sent her a message suggesting they get together at his town house that night and order a pizza for supper. Then, before putting his phone away, he had an inspiration and dialed a number he knew by heart.

  His friend Hiram answered on the first ring and agreed to meet him for an early lunch at his favorite hangout, the Down’s Diner.

  Hiram Heller had been Spencer’s mentor since the police academy and he needed the older man’s advice as to how to approach investigating Yvette’s murder. With a few rare exceptions, since living in Normalton, Spencer had mostly kept his nose out of police business. However, his ex being killed in his own backyard wasn’t something he could trust to someone else.

  Hiram usually had an opinion and wasn’t shy about sharing it. He also had some of the best connections and sources outside of Homeland Security.

  With a couple of hours before his lunch appointment, Spencer headed to his office and buckled down to draw up plans for how campus security would be deployed and manage the Halloween crowds. Once they were completed, he printed out the information and put it in each of his officer’s mailboxes with orders to memorize the information, as there would be a test the next day.

  At 11:15 Spencer alerted the dispatcher that he was leaving the building and drove to the café. The familiar double doors with their cloudy glass and fading red paint welcomed him. The notices taped to the window informed him of an upcoming Halloween party for ages three through twelve, a new neighborhood daycare with openings, and someone looking for jobs raking leaves.

  When Spencer entered the diner, the wonderful combined scent of grilling hamburgers, french fries, and coffee made his stomach growl. Breakfast had been a bowl of cold cereal at the crack of dawn.

  The café consisted of six booths against
the wall, three tables for two down the center of the room, and a row of eight stools lined the counter. Spencer greeted Uriah, the café’s owner, as he walked by him on the way to Hiram’s usual end booth.

  True to form, Hiram was already there and Spencer slid onto the bench across from his mentor. Before he was fully seated, Uriah approached the table and wordlessly cocked a brow at Spencer.

  Not even bothering to open the laminated menu, Spencer said, “I’ll have a Reuben and fries.”

  “Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans for me,” Hiram added.

  Uriah grunted and headed back to the kitchen. The owner of the diner was well over six feet, with a broad chest and thickly muscled arms. No matter the season or temperature outside, Spencer had never seen him in anything but a pair of white cotton pants, a T-shirt, and an apron.

  Uriah’s ethnicity was anybody’s guess. His bronzed complexion and unusual light-green eyes could be Greek or Middle Eastern or one of a hundred possibilities. He never had much to say, and although in his sixties, he handled the cooking and serving without any hired help.

  His only employee was a cleaning lady. He spoke to her in a language Spencer didn’t recognize, but it almost sounded like Latin.

  Hiram looked over his glances at Spencer and asked, “What’s the emergency?”

  His mentor had the rough voice of a two-packs-a-day smoker, but Spencer knew he had never had that habit. Hiram was barely five foot eight and a hundred and forty pounds at the most. But his unimposing build hadn’t kept him from being one of the best agents in his agency.

  “Hi.” Spencer smiled. “I’m fine. Glad the weather’s cooler. How about you?”

  “Get on with it,” Hiram growled.

  The old man had never been one to tolerate a lot of chitchat. He had guided Spencer’s career since Spencer was a raw recruit, and he had never given him a bad piece of advice. Including the suggestion to cut his losses when Yvette cheated on him, get out from undercover, and have a life.

  Hiram had taught Spencer how to navigate the politics of the law enforcement profession, how to be a good officer, and how to be a good man. In return, Spencer had shared his hopes, dreams, and troubles.