1 Death by Chocolate (11 page)

“Well, good luck to you, Myra.  We’ll be seeing you,” he said and took his wife by the elbow and they left without another word.

I rang up the sale and went to finish mixing the new bleach water to wipe down the counters.

Next thing I knew the door opened again.  I dropped the cloth into the bleach water and stepped to the sink to wash my hands.

“Good morning,” I called.

No one said anything in response to my greeting.  I dried my hands as I turned toward the counter. I saw Peter Lynch standing there.

“What can I get for you, Detective?” I said trying to not be nervous.  No one came with him, so I didn’t know what to expect from the visit.

“Coffee. Black,” he said staring at me intently.

“Right.”

I put the coffee down on the counter and said, “Anything else with that?”

“No,” he pulled out a couple of ones and placed them on the counter, though I’d held my hand out for the money.

“So, business as usual, huh?” he said as he cast a glance around the empty shop.

“There have been a few people in this morning, but there are extenuating circumstances, as you well know.”

“Not sure why you opened at all.”

Did he mean at all, or just this morning?  I just looked at him.

“You know even if you are lucky enough to get off, people might not give you business anyway.”

I still just stayed quiet.

“You know we’ve had other outsiders here in Fish Creek Falls and they’ve not been able to make a go of it, either.”

“What about Mark? He’s not from here and is doing okay,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Yeah, well.  He is also a suspect.” He glared. “Who knows?  It might come out that you both got rid of Barbara.”

My mouth dropped a bit and I felt sick.  I knew that my face betrayed my anger and fear at what he said, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

He looked at his watch and said, “Time to go.  Good day, Ms. Bailey.”

I noticed that the stem of the beaten up gold watch was missing.  Cold spread through my body as I watched him leave the bakery. He really could make this murder charge stick, if things kept going this way. Mark had become an official suspect and if Lynch had his way, I’d become his accomplice. 

The rest of the morning stayed quiet, but it seemed every time I wanted to think and to make sense of everything, someone would come into the shop.  By lunch I had my chance.  I thought about calling David to see what had happened with Mark, but I thought it might be better to wait until a bit later in the day when he might make some time to come and see me.

As I thought, I realized that it was probably pointless to stay open after lunch because it is usually slow in the afternoons; most likely it will be dead today.  I shuddered a bit at the phrasing, but cleaned up and got ready to close anyway.

When I had everything ready, I had a twinge of guilt at closing early in spite of the fact that no one would care or have a brownie emergency if I were not open, so I decided to write a note and put it on the door.  Then it hit me.  The note on the door at Barbara’s had been written in a different handwriting than the other ones. That’s what had bothered me about it—it had been different.  What if the killer had written it?  Could that have been what the visitor had been after?  Not just that because he had stayed too long and moved away from the door.  He had keys. I couldn’t breathe.  I had to get home, but I needed to tell Lizzie.  I whipped out my phone and texted Lizzie.  911 meet me at my house ASAP and then I taped the note on the door, let myself out and locked it.  I hustled down the street and around the corner toward home.  As I gasped for breath, I slowed down.  In spite of the fact that I had been in decent shape, my anxiousness and excitement got the better of my breathing.  I got close to my house and decided to go in the back door.  I went right into my room and grabbed my pants from last night and flopped on the bed next to them.  It all made sense to me, but I wondered if it could possibly be enough because I had no idea what the motive could be. I wanted to call David, but could I trust him with my theory?  Maybe I should call Brian and tell him what I had figured out.  Then my phone rang and startled me. 

“Green Eyes,” he sounded so tired and worried, “We just finished with Mark.  He’s been cleared of the murder.”

“David, I think I know who killed Barbara, but—“

“You do?  Well, are you going to enlighten me?”  He said in a sort of sarcastic way.

“Are you alone?”

“No,” he answered more seriously.

“Can you get away?  I’m at home.  Please it’s important.”

“I’ll be there in just a little while.  Are you okay?”

“Sort of,” I said truthfully.

“I won’t be long.”

Lizzie arrived and rushed inside. “I came as fast as I could.  What’s the emergency?  I thought you might have been arrested for a sec, but then you said you were here and so I felt better, but what’s up?”

I waited for her to stop rambling.  “Peter killed Barbara.”

“As in Police Detective Peter Lynch? Did you bump your head or something?  I know he’s a first class jerk, but a murderer? Why would he kill Barbara?”

“I’m not sure of the why, but I am sure that he is the one.  Think about it, Lizzie.  He has a Police phone that beeps, he had access to the keys to the crime scene and I’ll bet that he wrote the note on the door after he killed her.  He had plenty of time to do that and then meet Abe and Millie for coffee at my shop.”

“So, he is a male and he had keys to the crime scene and has a beeping phone why wouldn’t you suspect him? Scratch that, I know why not,” she said and raised her eyebrow slightly.

“Yes, but there’s more.”  I told her about the note on the door and the small screw that I’d found that I thought belonged to David’s watch. 

“You mean you think his watch got banged up somehow when he was in the bakery killing Barbara?”

“You need to tell Hunky about this right away.” She said and shook her phone at me to make the point.

“I did.  Well, I didn’t tell him, yet.  I called and asked him to come over. He should be here any time now.”

Lizzie and I spent the next few minutes thinking about the motive that Peter Lynch might have for killing Barbara and there didn’t seem to be anything that we could think of to be a motive for murder.  After all, he investigated murders for a living, why would he commit one?

A car pulled up outside and Lizzie looked out. “Detective Hunky to the rescue.”

I exhaled and tried to keep my perspective since telling David that his partner probably had murdered Barbara and had been pinning it on me certainly wouldn’t be easy.  I wondered if he’d believe me.

“Hi Green Eyes,’ he nodded, “Lizzie. What’s going on?”

He sat down on the couch and Lizzie and I filled him in on our escapade to the bakery and I told him about the note and the small screw that I found. 

“It’s in the pocket of these pants since I didn’t know if any fingerprints or other evidence could be gotten from something that tiny, I didn’t touch it without my gloves.”

“But what we don’t know is if there had been something else that the killer had been doing in there.”

He sat quiet and shook his head back and forth ever so slowly.  “Do you two know what a world of trouble you have gotten yourself into?  I’m not sure even where to start,” he paused.

“Start with, I believe you, Green Eyes,” I said feeling really anxious and even the slightest bit angry.

He smiled faintly and said, “I believe you have super circumstantial evidence to support your theory, but you are lacking a motive and I haven’t the slightest idea what that would be.”

“I’m not sure, but he made sure that mine was pretty good, right?  He’s even used my chemistry degree against me with the kind of poison.” I rambled.

“What are you talking about?”

“He told me that the castor bean poison had been mixed into the frosting and that that would make me the best suspect, chemistry and baking.”

David looked a bit confused and he stayed quiet for a second.

“Green Eyes, you said that Pete told you the poison was in the frosting?”

“Yes and he said it made perfect sense with my background.  What’s wrong?”

“I’m wondering when he found out that the poison was in the frosting.”

“He told me that when he came to arrest me.”

I kept going. “You also said that he didn’t hear his phone, but I’ll bet that Lizzie and I heard it clearly enough while at the bakery last night and he came to the shop this morning and basically told me that either both Mark and I or one of us at least would be charged with murder.  He sounded like he could make it happen.”

“Well, knowing Peter, I bet he just said things to make him sound important and to scare you.  Scared suspects tend to say things that incriminate them.”

“Maybe, but this seemed like he meant it,” I said a bit huffier than I intended.

“I wish that we could think of a way to trick him into confessing,” Lizzie spoke up. 

“That’d solve it,” I added.

We all sat without saying anything right away.

“I have an idea, but I’ll need your help, both of you to pull it off,” I said.

Lizzie said, “I’m in.”

David looked at me as if trying to will me to tell him my idea before he agreed to it.

“Okay, Green Eyes, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

A few minutes later, Lizzie and I set out for Barbara’s Bakery Brilliance. I hoped that we would show some of our own brilliance in the plan that I’d devised.  David went to get the keys to the bakery.

When Lizzie and I got there, we went to the basement window and slid in just as we did the night before.  It seemed a bit spookier by day since the daylight cast ominous shadows on the basement.  We were spared all of that with the pitch blackness and rather dim phone lights that we had the last evening.  We made our way upstairs and got settled.  Lizzie called the Police Station.

“May I speak with Detective Lynch, please?”  Yes, it is important. It’s about the Simpson murder.”  She paused and then added, “Yes, I’ll wait.”  “Detective Lynch this is Lizzie Stevens.  I wanted to call you because I’m worried that MB, um, Myra Bailey is going to do something crazy.  She claims that she’s going to find out the truth about Barbara’s murder, no matter what and I’m scared that she’s going to do something crazy.” 

I gestured a question and rolled my hands to get her to speed it up.

“She’s going to Barbara’s bakery,” she looked at her phone and then at me.  “Call ended.  I think that means he’s on the way.”

“I hope this works,” I said.

A few minutes later, keys rattled in the door.  Lizzie sunk down behind the boxes that we hid behind last night and I tried to hide near the display case.  The bell tinkled, once then twice and the door shut.

I peeked from next to the display case and saw Peter Lynch scanning the shop.  He stepped into the room and tossed the keys on the table near where I found the screw.  I tried to stay quiet and hidden.  I hoped that David would get here soon.  To my surprise, he actually pulled up a chair and sat down.  I guess he thought that he had beaten me to the shop.