Bossy Cakes: A Yellow Rose Cozy Mystery (Yellow Rose Mystery Series Book 3) (6 page)

“That’s terrible,” Candace said.

“I can’t let them do that. I need to find out who killed this boy.”

Candace’s eyes went wide. “Betty, you aren’t a cop. Or a detective. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think the police are going to do what’s right. I think they’re going to do what gets them promotions.”

“How can you solve a murder?”

“Do you know someone named Davis?”

“Yeah, it’s his last name. He’s Brent’s best friend.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“No. Amy might.”

“Where is she?”

“She went to bed. She’s been a mess. I was just coming out to get some air.”

“Brianna went to some club last night,” Betty said.

“Oh yeah, it’s called Club Pink.”

“You know it?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you take me there?”

“Sure. Let me run up and tell Heather that I’m leaving. Try to get a cab.”

The girl left and Betty did what she had been told, so by the time Candace returned there was a yellow cab waiting by the sidewalk. They got in and Candace gave the driver directions.

The club’s parking lot was packed, and the music was loud and blaring through the open doors. There was a long line, but Candace and Betty walked right by it.

“Hold up,” a large man serving as the club bouncer said as they tried to pass him. he held up a large hand. “I don’t think so, Grandma. Get in line.”

“I don’t want to drink or dance. I need some answers,” Betty said.

“Answers? About what?”

Betty pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and took a moment to find a picture of Brianna on it. She held it to the large man so he could see.

“Lady, girls come in here all the time. Back up, will you? I’m trying to work.”

“And I’m trying to help my daughter!” Betty yelled. The big man rolled his eyes, and he was about to say something when there was a commotion beside him.

Two other large men had a smaller man between them. They marched him out the doors and then shoved him away. The man stumbled and fell, sprawling into the parking lot.

“That’s Davis!” Candace said to Betty.

Betty didn’t waste any time. She marched over to Davis as he climbed to his feet. He was unsteady, teetering this way and that, clearly drunk.

“Davis?” Betty asked and the young man looked to her.

“What?” he asked.

“You met this girl last night?” she said, shoving the phone under his nose.

“Brianna, right? Yeah. I mean, no. I had already met her. She came with us. Where is she? Does she know Brent is dead?”

Betty nodded. “Yes,” she said. “What can you tell me about that?”

“About Brent?” Davis asked. “I can tell you he’s been my best friend for fifteen years. Well, he was, right? Now he’s just something in my past. He’s gone, and if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find a different place to drink, since these guys won’t serve me anymore.”

“Davis, I need your help,” Betty said. “The police think Brianna killed Brent.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the young man said.

“You know who killed him?”

“Yeah, I do.” Davis said, nodding his head. Betty leaned forward, and her voice, when she spoke, was almost a whisper.

“Who?” she asked.

Davis took a deep breath, steadying himself, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of revulsion flashed through him. Finally, he opened his eyes and said, “I did. I killed him.”

Betty’s mouth fell open.

“I mean, I don’t know what really happened. I didn’t see him after he and Brianna left. But I knew he couldn’t handle his drinks. He never could. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have let him have my boat.”

“Your boat?” Betty asked.

“Yeah. He wanted to go on the boat, and he wanted to take Brianna. I gave him the keys.”

“Where is your boat?”

“I don’t know. Gone.”

“Where was it?”

“The marina. Down on Beach Street.”

Betty turned to Candace. “Maybe someone there saw something. Someone else, not just Brianna.”

“Worth a shot,” Candace said. They turned and left Davis behind, hurrying back to the cab. They had told the cab driver to wait for them.

In the back of the cab Betty’s phone began to ring. She pulled it out of a pocket and looked at the screen. It was Johnny Dunbar. She sighed and answered it.

“Hey, just checking on you. I sent you some texts, wanted to make sure you got in okay. I don’t mean to sound pushy or anything.”

“Johnny, it’s not a good time,” Betty said simply, and then hung up. She didn’t want to have to listen to her phone ring for the rest of the night.

The cab driver had known right where the marina was, and once again he was asked to stay, with the meter running, of course.

“Your money,” the man said, and the two women climbed out. They walked toward the marina. There was a long, low building in front of them, and beyond that  a mass of wooden docks, with any number of boats tied up to them. There were small schooners and massive yachts.

“I wonder what sort of boat Davis had,” Betty said.

“I think his dad is pretty rich, so I bet it was nice,” Candace said.

There was a light on in the building, and when they tugged on the door it pulled open. They stepped into a wide open room filled with couches and cushioned chairs. Near the back was a desk one might imagine a teacher behind back in the 1960s. A man sat there, using his phone to browse the internet. Betty hurried to him.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“It’s late. About to close up.”

Betty thought fast and said, “Last night a young man and a woman came and took a boat out. It would have been later than this.”

“Well, if it’s their boat they can take it. This is just for rentals and stuff. We don’t go out after dark, but some people want to sign up for the next day,” the man said. He was older than Betty, and had a big white beard. He reminded her of Santa, but a Santa made for the warm weather. He wore tattered shorts and a T-shirt with a faded shark upon it.

“So you weren’t here last night? Late last night?”

“No, Ma’am,” the guy said. “What’s this about?”

“Just trying to figure some things out,” Betty said. Candace stood several feet back and didn’t speak.

“This about that boy who wound up dead?” the man asked.

Betty nodded. “You know about that?”

“Sure, they tied him to some boat that was kept docked here. Shame really, him being so young and all.”

“You spoke to the police?”

“Well, a little. Didn’t know much, just like I told you. You two don’t seem like cops, though.”

“We aren’t,” Betty said, and then she turned. “Thank you for your time.”

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you more.”

Betty nodded and headed for the door, flanked by Candace.

“Are you his mom?” the man asked.

Betty turned. “No. The police think my daughter may have killed him.”

“Did she?”

“No,” Betty said sternly.

“Well, I hope you find the answers you're looking for,” the man said. Betty nodded and headed out. She had no idea how close those answers really were.

Betty and Candace returned to their hotel. Betty didn’t know what to do, and she was feeling foolish. What had she hoped to find? Some big detail the police had overlooked? The whole thing was absurd. She was driven by an irrational fear that her daughter was going to get thrown in jail for the rest of her life, simply because the police wanted to make an arrest and look good. That sort of thing didn’t really happen, did it?

What she wanted to do was go upstairs, climb into bed, and sleep for many hours until it was time to go see her daughter and the police figured things out with the lawyer she'd hired. Still, the mood was somber as Candace and Betty climbed out of the cab. After Betty paid the driver, they went inside the hotel.

Betty was surprised to see Amy sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs in the lobby. She turned her head when Betty and Candace came in, and quickly stood.

“Betty, I need to speak with you,” Amy said, and Betty nodded. Candace paused for a moment, but Amy smiled at her and said, “Everything's okay. Go on up to the room. I’ll only be a minute.”

Betty wondered what Amy could possibly want as Candace headed for the elevator just off the lobby.

“Want to go down to the water? Amy asked.

“Are you okay?” Betty asked, irritated. “I’m tired. I was going up to rest.”

“Please, come outside with me. I need some air. I feel cooped up.”

“Okay,” Betty said and nodded. She followed the younger woman out of the hotel. They made their way around the building and to the beach. The sand was as cool as the air, and the water rolled softly against the shore. It was getting dark – the only light coming from a fat silver moon which fought through heavy cloud cover for moments at a time. Betty stopped and stared at Amy.

“I didn’t know he was seeing other people,” Amy said softly, so low that Betty had to lean toward her to hear.

“Brent?” Betty asked.

“You know him?”

Betty sighed and looked up at the sky for a moment. “I just heard his name tonight. I didn’t know my daughter had met him. He told her he was single, as far as I know.”

Anger flashed across the younger woman's face. “Well, he wasn’t,” she said.

“I’m sorry. And Brianna, who has a boyfriend back home, wasn’t interested in him. She just wanted to hang out with friends. If he thought something else would happen, it wouldn’t have.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Amy said.

“I’m sorry he died,” she said. It hadn’t seemed like Amy was torn up about his passing. She just seemed angry. Almost glad that he was gone. Her voice was like the edge of a knife.

“I was surprised when I heard what you and Candace were doing,” Amy said, changing the subject.

“It was a dumb idea, but I was scared,” Betty said. “This is like something out of a movie. It doesn’t feel like real life.”

“Yet it is real. And my life at that,” Amy said. Betty nodded and found she couldn’t keep her eyes on the younger woman's. Amy was a shifting emotional mess. She started off mad, then changed to sad, tears gleaming in the low light in her eyes. Betty looked up toward the beach. She couldn’t see anyone. They were alone.

“I should have tried to speak with him,” Amy said. Betty looked back to her.

“About what?”

“Other girls he was apparently interested in. Your daughter, for instance.”

“Like I said, she wasn’t interested in him. And you couldn’t have known. I don’t know if he was being unfaithful, or wanting to be, and for how long, but you didn’t even find out until tonight. Don’t blame yourself. Remember that he cared for you and mourn him.”

“I saw them last night,” Amy said. “You idiot, I saw them last night. I should have tried speaking with him.”

“You saw him?”

“He didn’t know I was in town. I didn’t want to tell him. These trips are for me and my friends. We always say 'no guys.' So he didn’t know, and I thought maybe I would run into him, since the summer season is basically over, but I didn’t try to do anything. We just went to the club, and they were leaving. We were getting there late, and he didn’t even see me. Candace and Heather didn’t even see him.”

“He said he was single,” Betty said. Amy seemed to be growing angrier by the minute. The tears were gone, and her mouth was a small slit in the bottom of her face, tight and grim. “If you guys were exclusive, I mean – ”

“Of course we were!” Amy erupted, but then quickly quieted. “We were.”

Betty was starting to fear the girl. She took a step back.

“I followed them. They got on the boat. Davis’ father's boat. I got on too, though they didn’t know.”

A horrible realization hit Betty. Her eyes widened and she realized she was standing on the beach with the person who had killed Brent.

“They kissed. I saw it with my own eyes. Maybe I should tell your skanky daughter's boyfriend. Maybe he would be thankful for what I did. I took a big paddle...a decoration on the side of the boat, and I hit her. I hit her and she fell. Brent was surprised to see me, I can tell you that. I hit him, too. So hard he fell overboard.”

“You killed him.”

“I’m not sorry,” Amy said with a sneer. “He was a cheater. And cheaters get what they deserve.”

“Brianna – you brought her back?”

Amy nodded. “I knew it was his fault. I was mad at her, I wanted to kill her. I could have, but I came back. I got us off the boat. She was awake but out of it. Drunk. Concussion. Whatever. I set the boat to go back out to sea. I’m sure it'll be found somewhere. I don’t know how much gas those things have. I just let it go. I got a cab – we were just two drunk girls. I left your daughter in the lobby. But when they find that boat, her DNA is going to be all over it. It’s a good thing I left her alive. They have her. There’s no reason to think she didn’t do it. No one knows about me.”

“I know,” Betty said. “Why tell me?”

“When Heather said that you were going for answers, I thought you might find some. I don’t know, I guess that was as stupid as you thinking you were some sort of detective. I can’t let you live, in case you did find something, but you should know why.”

“Can’t let me live?” Betty asked, and Amy didn’t respond. Instead she dove forward and tackled the older woman.

They fell into the cold surf, the water shocking Betty to the core. Amy’s fingers were on her throat, squeezing tightly. Betty tried to push her off, but couldn’t. Amy was too strong.

Betty’s vision was fading, a pulsing inkiness spreading from the edge of her sight. Her temple was pounding. She was going to die. She thought of her daughter, about how much she loved her and how she had failed her. Seconds later, everything turned black.