1 Death by Chocolate (12 page)

In spite of the fact that it felt like the worst idea, I thought that I needed to make noise and get this confrontation over with.  I nudged the box near me and it made a faint scraping sound.  I heard the chair creak as he shifted his weight or got up. 

 

“Ms. Bailey, is that you?” he said.  “It’s Detective Lynch.  Come out before you have more trouble.”  His voice seemed more animated than usual.

 

I sat quietly.  I didn’t want to make it seem that easy.

 

I heard his footsteps on the floor and then I decided to move.  I stood slowly and moved from my hiding spot. 

 

“Ah, Ms. Bailey.  That’s a good choice.” He smiled.

 

“How did you know that I was here?” I asked.

 

“Your friend, Ms. Stevens called me all worried about you. How did you get in?”

 

“I got in the same way that I did last night,” I said in a voice a good deal braver than I felt.

 

He stiffened a bit and his smile faded. “Are you confessing to breaking and entering two times, Ms. Bailey?”

 

I didn’t say anything.  I just looked at him.  I hoped I wasn’t wrong after all.  If so, then I really would be adding more charges to my indictment. 

 

“What brings you here, Ms. Bailey?  What can you possibly hope to find?”

 

“The real killer,” I said simply and stared at him.

 

He looked uncomfortable.  I’d never seen him sweat before, but his forehead had gotten shiny.

 

“I would have thought there were mirrors in other places besides this bakery.”

 

“Yes, but you and I both know that I didn’t kill Barbara.”

 

“Now, how would I know that?”

 

“Because you did.”

 

His eyes widened slightly and then he composed himself again.

 

“Really?  How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“I think that you came and killed Barbara, left that note on the door telling people the bakery was closed and then met Abe and Millie Redmond for coffee.  This one was closed so you came with them to my bakery and created a nice alibi, at least for the later part of the morning.  I think you also decided to make it look like I killed her so that I would leave your precious town.” I stepped back as I saw him clench his fist. 

 

“You banged up that watch during your struggle and lost a piece of it, or maybe more than one.”  I pulled the Ziplock bag from my pocket and showed him the screw or actually the stem from his watch.

 

“I think that you realized that you had lost the piece and came to the bakery last night to retrieve it, but you were interrupted by your phone.  There was a problem at the High School and you didn’t go right away because you were here looking around.”

 

“That’s a great deal of supposition on your part.  How do you suppose that you can prove any of it?”

 

“I might be in trouble for being in a crime scene, but I was here when you were last night and I saw you,” I lied but he was right.  I had nothing solid.  I remembered what David said about getting a suspect mad.

 

“I’m betting that this piece has your finger prints on it from winding and since I have your license plate from your car, I can prove you were here.”

 

“So, what?  I am a Police Detective and I entered a crime scene.  No one would even question that.”

 

“That means you are admitting that you were here, then?” I took another step back and could feel the display case behind me.

 

He didn’t answer.  Then he seemed to be in his own world for a second.  He started sighing and clenching and unclenching his fists.

 

“No one comes into my town and thinks they can fit in and stay.  Outsiders.  You all are all the same.”

 

“Is that why you framed me for Barbara’s murder?” I croaked.  Suddenly my throat had gone dry.

 

That did it. He lunged at me and his hands closed around my neck.  I kicked my knee up and it hit something, but in spite of the groan, he didn’t let go.  Lizzie came out of hiding and hit him on the head with something.  He let go long enough to shove her hard into the table.  I held my neck and gasped for air.  I tried to move away, but I’d boxed myself in pretty well. He came at me again and I ducked and tried to keep him from getting a grip.  I reached up and grabbed for anything that I could hit him with and my hands closed on a cake stand.  I swung it and it hit him on the side of the head.  He crumpled to the floor dazed.

 

I heard the bells jangle as the door slammed open. Peter got to his feet and came at me again. David grabbed Peter and pulled him off of me.

 

“What are you doing?” David shouted.

 

The two exchanged punches and crashed into tables.  I went over to Lizzie and pulled her back toward the kitchen.  She seemed dazed but watched the brawl with me.  David finally pushed Peter back against the same display case that I’d had my back against.  He held him up.

 

“Why? Why would you try to hurt Myra?” he huffed.

 

“Oh come on, Dave don’t tell me you don’t see that she’s just like all the rest of the Outsiders?  She’s just here to make money on the small townies and then she’ll leave and the building will be empty all over again.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that she has to go.”

 

The two men stared at one another without another word for what seemed like a really long time.

 

“Did you kill Barbara to make it look like Myra did it?” He slammed him against the display case.  “Did you?”

 

Peter didn’t answer. 

 

“Why did you kill Barbara? She wasn’t an Outsider like you’re talking about?” David asked.

 

Peter just looked at David who spun him around and handcuffed him in what seemed like a single movement.  David stood a chair upright and guided Peter into it. 

 

“What are you arresting me for, Dave?”  Peter asked smugly.

 

“Assault right now, but it will be murder soon, buddy.”

 

I stepped forward. “You made a mistake, Detective.”

 

He looked at me, but said nothing.

 

“You wrote the note that the bakery would be closed on your tablet paper.  I’m guessing that you thought no one would question or even look twice at the note because people leave notes on their business doors all the time in town, right?”

 

David went over to the door and looked at the note more closely. “She’s right and I’ll bet that we can match both the paper and the writing.”

 

Peter just frowned and shifted in his seat.

 

I hoped that there would be enough to convict him.  Then, I remembered Lizzie’s job and went behind the boxes to get the recorder.  I switched it off and brought it over to David.  As I did, I stepped over the cake stand that I hit Peter with; it had a plastic chocolate cake on it that now had been broken off.  I smiled; glad that I didn’t hit him too hard or it would have been Death by Chocolate.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Carol lives in New England with her husband, her trusty and awfully energetic brown lab and her beautiful rescue cat, Bear who has no tail. She likes to write cozy mysteries novelettes and short stories perfect for the busy person on the go. When she’s not working on her next mystery you can find her hiking, gardening or spending time with her family.

 

I LOVE to connect with my readers on Facebook:
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One Last Thing. . .
        

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All the best,     

 

Carol Lee

 

 

Other books by Carol Lee

 

A Des
sert First Cozy Mystery Series

 

Stay tuned… the sequel is coming soon!

 

A Doris the Florist Cozy Mystery Series

 

The Snapdragon Murder

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