1 Death by Chocolate (5 page)

He sounded disappointed to me and that made me mad that he clearly seemed to want me to be guilty.

A few minutes later, the two of them loaded up my computer in a big box and the last D by C cake into Peter’s car.  Peter drove away and David came back inside.

“You held it together really well, Green Eyes,” he said as he closed the door.

“He wants me to be guilty, doesn’t he?”

“Not really.  He does want this all to be wrapped up though, and you’re an easy answer.”

I needed to figure out who else wanted her dead and fast.  I put the cranberry muffins in the oven and stirred the icing a bit. 

“I did find out that it was a poison that killed her,” David said with a gulp of coffee.

“Yuck,” I said.

“Yeah, but it’s good that you didn’t have anything incriminating here.”  He took another swig of coffee. “You know, we’ll be searching your house, too.”

“Great, so my cases upon cases of rat poison hidden in the crawl space will be confiscated.”

He coughed on his next sip at that. 

“Well, I should get going to find some clues to clear your good name.”

“Want a refill?”

He shook his head and placed a folded bill on the counter.  He winked at me.  “Later, Green Eyes.”

“Bye,” I picked up the money and noticed that he’d stuck his card in the dollar.  I slipped it into my jean’s pocket.

I made some more muffins and got dough out to rise for some bread. I wondered if Willie would come in today or if he was still away.  Then it hit me.  The stain on his sleeve.  It looked like chocolate cake.  He’d seemed jumpy and he’d come in early.  What if he’d killed Barbara and then came into my shop.  He’d said that he had a long day of driving ahead of him. Was he getting away from town to avoid becoming a suspect himself? He could be anywhere by now. The door opened and someone came into the shop.

“Dahling, Myra?” called Rachel a bit softer than her usual tone.

“Morning, Rachel.  What can I get for you this morning?”

“Do you have any scones this morning?” she asked looking into the case.

“I have some in the fridge.  I can heat one up for you,” I offered and went to get the tray out.

“Thanks ever so, also a cup of Earl, too, please. Another long morning of inventory ahead of me means that I so need the sustenance.”

“Of course,” I said.  Inventory explained why Rachel had been so early the last couple of mornings.

“Such bad business in town, isn’t it?  I said to Cynthia, you know, the Mayor’s wife, yesterday that I just couldn’t imagine a scandal like this in our little slice of Heaven.  I hope the police will get to the bottom of this before any other proprietor on the Main Street is found, well, you know,” she whispered, “dead.”

“You think we’re all targets?”  I hadn’t considered the possibility that there might be more killing. I felt sick again.  I got out an Earl Grey Tea bag and poured the hot water from the stove.  I put the scone in the microwave and pressed 20 seconds.

“Well, I certainly hope not, but one never knows.  I understand that they are investigating you, dear.  How dreadful for you!  I don’t believe it for a second. Personally, I think the boys would be better off looking for that handy person, what is his name, Willard or something?  You know, I heard from Millie, who heard from her sister, Lila, who heard from Dennis, that Willard argued with Barbara the very night before she died.”

“What?”

“I heard from Millie, who heard from—“

I put my hand up for her to stop, “What did Willie argue with Barbara over?”

She paused and seemed a bit surprised that she’d been interrupted.  The microwave beeped and I brought her order to the counter.

“Not sure, but it has something to do with Barbara’s son.”

“Son? I didn’t think Ron and Barbara had any kids.”

“They didn’t, but Barbara had a child that she put up for adoption before she met Ron.  You know, too young to care for the child and all, but from what I understand, Willard had information about the man and had been refusing to tell her about it,” she took a breath.

“I didn’t know any of that.”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” she smiled and handed me a couple of dollars.

“Dahling, the gathering will go on as planned tonight.  I think we all need a distraction.  Maybe you could stop even for a bit, you know just to be social, TTFN,” she swished out the door without waiting for me to give her an answer. 

I felt pretty confident that my dinner with David was off, so maybe I should go and see what I could find out to help me clear my name. I’d talk to David about it later.  In the meantime, I wondered how to find out more about Willie’s connection to Barbara and her son.  Willie could be about the same age as Barbara’s boy, so maybe they went to school together, but I thought he had grown up here in Fish Creek Falls and it sounded like Rachel thought Barbara’s son hadn’t been in the area.  Could the son have come back? Could Willie kill?  It seemed that when you looked hard enough nearly everyone could have a motive of some sort.  I went over to the desk to try and search for something about baby homes in the area and realized I currently had no computer.  I fished my phone from my coat pocket and started to type in keywords. 

The phone vibrated and a text popped up from Lizzie.  Up…called off…cya at 7ish

I sent a smiley face back and kept searching.  I found out that the nearest baby home had been closed in the 90s, but it was only thirty miles from Fish Creek Falls.  I didn’t know if Barbara had been the type to go far away to have a child, or if she’d stick close to home.  Sighing, I thought.  It’s just one more piece to the puzzle
. I went to rescue the muffins and to check the dough.  So much for the extra people coming into the shop, I thought as I glanced at the clock.  6:15 and no one had come in since Rachel.   Well, it gave me more time to think about what my next move would be. 

I could have talked to Rachel about the D by C cake and her alibi, but I got a little sidetracked with the story about Barbara’s son.  I wondered if Ron had known about the boy.  He just got out of jail. Maybe he’d get a big insurance payout from Barbara.  That’s a good motive.  I felt like the Willie info and the thought about Ron inheriting money could be strong leads.  Reaching into my pocket, I took out the card that had David’s contact information on it. 

I swiped my phone and quickly dialed his personal cell number. 

“This is David.”

“Um, hi.  It’s Myra.”

“Green Eyes.  You found my card, huh?  What’s up?”

I could hear the background noise of his car so I knew he was driving somewhere.  Since he called me Green Eyes, I guessed that he drove alone.

“I had some thoughts and wondered if you could check them out, you know, officially?”

“Tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll tell you how official I can be.”

I told him about Willie’s argument with Barbara the night before she died, my encounter with Willie yesterday morning, and my thoughts about Ron.  He listened quietly.

“I can check out the insurance thing and I’ll see if I can track down Willie for a chat,” he said. 

“Great, thanks!” 

“No big deal, but don’t count on that all to pan out before things get tough for you, though.  Make the call to the lawyer just in case.”

My legs gave out and I leaned on the counter.  Before things get tough?

“Are you telling me that I’m going to be arrested?”

The call failed beeped in my ear.  I hit the call back button and it went straight to voicemail.

“Call me as soon as you can!” I nearly shouted and hit end.

Get a grip, I told myself.  I had to keep my head clear and not freak out.  I took a couple deep breaths and decided to shape some bread loaves.  I also dumped the coffee that I’d made earlier and started some new pots.  I knew that I’d be wasting them, too because no one would be coming in today, or maybe ever again if I were arrested, but it gave me something to keep busy with, at least.

Then I heard the door and got to the counter quickly.

“Bailey?  How are you doing? Are the police really calling you a suspect?” Mark had a serious look on his face, but I thought he looked more curious than concerned. Word travels so fast in a small town.

“Looks that way.  What can I get you, Mark?”

“Nothing.  I just wanted to see how you were dealing with everything and to let you know that I’m in your corner.  I know you didn’t do this,” he reached out and held my hand that rested on the counter.

“Thanks.  Really, your support means a lot.”

“Of course, and now, you’ll see; the people won’t be able to get in here fast enough after all this is cleared up.”

I smiled, but didn’t know what to say.  Mark had been feeling responsible for my success in town since he’d told me about the building and brought me to the Main Street Merchants meeting to introduce me.  I felt a little like his prized pig or science project that he showed off to people, but having another supporter right now was worth anything.

“Well, on second thought, how about a slice of your Death by Chocolate?  I think I love it even more than your molten chocolate cake,” he winked at me.

My mouth went dry at the mention of those two desserts together, “uh, I don’t have either one today, sorry,” I wiped the counter, breaking the hand holding. “Something else, maybe?”

“I don’t think so,” he turned to leave.

“Hey, what did you need the D by C for?  Cast party or something?”  I thought quickly, “Because if you need more, just let me know and I’ll have it ready for you.”

“Good to know, but that one was for me.  Of course I did share some of it,” he smiled.

He had street clothes on this morning, I noticed.

“No run this morning?  I guess it’s too late for that today, huh?”

His smiled faded slightly, “No run today, I slept in this morning.”

“How far do you usually go now?”  I asked conversationally.  He ran sprints in college, but that, as Rachel pointed out, had been ages ago.

“A few miles I guess, I usually run for about forty-five minutes and then finish out the hour with a cool down jog or walk.  Want to join me sometime?” he asked quickly.

The question surprised me, “Maybe, but I think I’d be better with the cool down pace,” I wiped the counter again and he waved as he left. He seemed to be walking like he was stiff, but I didn’t want to be too obvious by asking too many questions. 

As I thought about Mark running yesterday, it hit me that he’d been sweating when he’d come into the bakery.  His money even felt damp, I remembered.  I thought that he had been ready to go for a run and not done with it, but then why had he been all sweaty? 

Then I thought about calling a lawyer. My legs felt quivery just thinking about it, but it didn’t make sense to not at least make the call. I tried to get myself under control before I dialed, but I could barely keep a single thought in my head, other than the fact that I desperately didn’t want to go to jail—especially for something that I didn’t do. It was still early, probably too early to call.  I couldn’t wait for Lizzie to come. She could help me make sense of everything.  I wiped the counter again just to do something.  What I really wanted to do was go to Barbara’s bakery and have a look around.  Not sure what I could find that the police didn’t but since they are so sure that I am a killer, I gulped perhaps they might have overlooked something that could point to the real killer or at the very least something that would put me in the clear somehow.