Bossy Cakes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 3) (5 page)

Brianna sat in a small room with a mirror on one wall. The table was a fold out kind, as was the chair she sat on. The wall was made of big gray bricks. The door near the corner soon opened. A man in a suit walked in.

“You okay?” he asked. He held two cups of coffee. He sat across from Briana and set one cup in front of her. She had been handcuffed when they had come and picked her up as a 'person of interest' at the hotel, but now she wasn’t. She took the cup and sipped from it.

“I’m scared,” she said. “And confused.”

The man nodded. “You looked like a three sugars kind of person. I hope that’s okay,” he said, tilting his head toward the cup.

“It’s fine,” Brianna said. She took another sip. The man in the suit didn’t drink his coffee – he just let it sit in front of him. Brianna watched the steam rise from the dark brown liquid.

“I’m Detective Pike,” the man said. “You can call me Tony, though.”

“Why am I here?”

“You were the last person to be seen with Brent Heller. We saw you leave the Club Pink last night on the cameras in the parking lot.”

“Where is Brent?” Brianna asked.

“Brianna, he’s dead.”

Brianna exhaled forcefully. The words hit her like a sledgehammer to the gut swung by a circus strongman.

“What?” she exclaimed.

“He’s dead. We pulled him out of the water this morning. We have to work fast with victims like that. Our trail led to you.”

Brianna shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“I’m trying to wrap my head around it, too,” the detective said. His voice was even and calm, as if he were a concerned friend.

“Should I be talking to you?” Brianna asked suddenly. Pike raised his eyebrows and leaned forward.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“My mother, I haven’t even spoken to her. I mean, what time is it even?”

Pike looked at his watch. “A little past ten.

“She hasn’t called here? Or come here? I have to see her.”

“You’re an adult, aren’t you?” Pike asked. “Twenty-one. We’re just trying to figure out why a young man is dead.”

“I didn’t even know him. Not really. I’m on vacation,” Brianna said. She felt a sharp sting in her eyes, and she realized tears were welling there.

Before either one could say anything else, there was a sharp knock on the door. Pike got up to answer it. A uniformed police woman stood in the doorway. She leaned forward and said something in a low voice that Brianna couldn’t hear. Detective Pike seemed to think for a moment, then nodded and turned to Brianna.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

There was nothing physically keeping Brianna in the room, unless they had locked the door. She was pretty sure she should just sit and wait, so that’s what she did. Five minutes later the door swung open again and Pike was back. He was joined by Betty.

“Mom!” Brianna said, jumping to her feet. Betty pushed past the detective and rushed forward. She wrapped her arms around her daughter.

“What is going on?” Betty asked.

“I don’t know,” Brianna said. “They said they needed to talk to me and brought me here. I’ve been sitting in a cell downstairs for most of the day. Finally, they brought me here and are asking me about Brent.”

“Who’s Brent?” Betty asked.

“He was this guy I met, on the beach. He took me to a club last night, him and his friend. The police told me he was dead.”

“So what, you think my daughter killed a man?” Betty asked, turning to Pike.

“We’re just trying to figure out what happened. We were hoping she could help with that.”

“You arrested her and kept her in a jail cell?”

“No, she's not under arrest. She's just in for questioning. We have her and the victim leaving the club together on video. Hours later he washes up, dead.”

“How do you know he’s a victim? How do you know he was murdered?” Betty asked, and Brianna felt foolish, because none of these questions had occurred to her.

“He was found in the water, but that hadn’t killed him,” the detective said, but he didn’t offer more than that.

Betty looked back to Brianna. She squeezed her once more before pulling away.

“May I have a moment alone with my daughter?” Betty asked the detective.

The man hesitated, but then nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Would you care for some coffee?”

“I’m fine,” Betty said, watching the man leave.

“Okay,” Betty said turning to Brianna. “What happened last night?”

“I don’t remember. I was with Brent, I know that.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Mom!”

“Listen, this is serious. You’re in a police station, and a man you were with is dead. We can’t afford to be coy about this. We need to figure out the truth. I know you didn’t kill someone.”

“I didn’t, but I don’t remember what happened.”

Betty focused in on Brianna’s face. “What happened here?” she asked, running her fingertips lightly over the bruise. Brianna’s eyes were filled with tears. She shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“How much did you drink?” Betty asked.

“I don’t know,” Brianna said. “Everything's a blur.”

Betty sighed and nodded. “We need to decide what to do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think we should get a lawyer,” Betty said matter-of-factly.

“If we do that, they’ll think I’m guilty, won’t they?”

Betty put her hands to her eyes for a moment. She wanted to scream. She took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm, or at least pretend to be.

“Maybe. But if they think you did it, or even if you’re just the only suspect right now, we need professional help. Don’t we?”

Brianna was nodding.

The door to the room opened again and Pike came back in. “I’m really going to have to ask that we speak with Brianna now.

“She wants a lawyer.”

Pike sighed. “We’re just talking.”

“You brought her in. She wants a lawyer,” Betty said.

Pike nodded. “Fine. Do you have one?”

“We’re from out of town. I have one who helped set up my business, but he’s in Texas,” Betty explained. “I’ll find one and have him come in.”

“You can’t be here,” Pike said to Betty.

“I’m her mother.”

“And she’s twenty-one. She’s an adult. You can wait out front and we’ll keep you updated. For now I’m going to send her back to our holding cell until you find a lawyer.

“All right,” Betty said. She was stunned and didn't think she was being treated right, but also thought it was best not to argue until she had time to think things through.

“Mom!” Brianna said. Betty hushed her with a harsh glance.

“I’ll find you someone, okay?”

Brianna nodded. They hugged, and then Betty was escorted to the waiting room by Pike. There was a long and high desk where a single cop sat, and a few chairs, mostly empty except for one woman who had pale skin and stringy hair. It looked as though she was sleeping. Betty sat down and pulled out her cell phone. She brought up her browser and set about finding a lawyer.

Within twenty minutes she had found one. He'd agreed to meet her there at the station. Ninety minutes later he arrived. There was no mistaking Greg Henry when he stepped into the police station. His suit was crisp and expensive, his shoes newly polished. Betty stood as he approached. They shook hands, and Betty told the man the facts that she had so far.

“You were smart to call me,” he said. “I can help. It sounds like they don’t know what happened, and are grasping at straws. There’s pressure from the new mayor to wrap cases quickly, so if there’s anything they can use to get her, they’re going to do it.”

That sounded scary to Betty, and it showed in her eyes.

“They don’t have anything on her, right?” the attorney asked.

“No, of course not.” Betty said, trying to hide the indignation in her voice.

“Then don’t worry,” Greg said. “I’ll go speak with your daughter. You should go and get some rest.”

“I can’t go back to the hotel. I can’t leave her.”

The attorney shook his head. “You won’t have a chance to see her again tonight. Go to the hotel. Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning. Don't worry. I’m on this.”

Betty sighed and nodded. The lawyer gave her a soft smile. She tried to return it but couldn’t. Feeling defeated, she turned and left. She'd taken a cab to the police station, but now she couldn't find one. The station was on the same road as the hotel, but about eleven blocks down. She started to walk.

By the time Betty reached the hotel she was exhausted. She had maintained the facade of strength for her daughter, but now, walking down the street in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar place while her daughter was in jail, it was all just too much.

Her cell phone beeped. A text message from Johnny Dunbar. It said he'd had a great time at dinner the previous evening. Betty was flattered, but she couldn't deal with anything else right now.

She was surprised to run into Candace as she entered the hotel lobby.

“Hey, Betty,” the young woman said. She noticed the moisture around Betty’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“My daughter's in trouble,” Betty said before she could stop herself.

“What? Oh my gosh, what’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Betty hesitated, but Candace and the two other girls were as close to friends as she had in Florida, so she decided to let it all out. “Some boy she was with was murdered. They're trying to say it was her, but I know it isn’t.”

“Did she know Brent?”

Betty stopped and stared. “What?”

“Did she know Brent?”

“I think that was his name.”

“Yeah, we found out earlier this evening. Brent died.”

“You knew him?”

“Amy and he were… dating I guess. Something like that.”

“I didn’t even think you guys lived here,” Betty said. “I thought you were here for Johnny Dunbar.”

“No, we live about two hours away. A lot of things like this come around here, so we go to as many as possible. It’s just kind of fun, I don’t think any of us really think we’re going to marry someone famous. We get a hotel here and just have a mini vacation.”

“Amy never said she was dating anyone.”

“It’s one of those things. Complicated. She met him last year and they’ve dated casually.”

Betty was nodding. “My daughter, they aren’t right about her.”

“If she’s anything like you, I know they aren’t.”

“My lawyer made it sound like they were going to push it on her though.”