1 Death by Chocolate (6 page)

I decided to go and make the bread and rolls for the day because at least I’d be productive while my thoughts raced.  I knew that I had made too many, but I could always sell them as day old and still make something on them.

Once I popped the last batch of breads into the oven the door opened again and in breezed Lizzie. 

“Hey girl what’s shaking with this morning?”

“Just my legs, David said I should call lawyer,”

Her cheery good-morning smile faded, “Isn’t that a little premature? Does he think things really look that bad for you?”

“I think he’s being careful.” I said and grabbed the rag to wipe the counter, yet again. “But the police aren’t looking at anybody except me, so I guess I should call someone.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.  Why wouldn’t they be looking for anyone who might have a motive?”

“Because they think, well Peter Lynch thinks that I have the best one.”

“Maybe, but isn’t Detective Hunky helping you out?”

I smiled, “He is, but Lynch is the lead detective and this is a very small town.”

Lizzie fiddled with the empty card holder and didn’t say anything right away.

“There has to be a way to clear my name.  What if there is a bit of evidence that they’ve missed? The bakery has to hold the key.”

“We can’t just pop over to the crime scene and have a look around, though,” she said.

“I have to do something. I don’t want to go to jail!”

“I know, MB, but it’s just not possible that you would be found guilty of Barbara’s murder so this is all just a nightmare until we get it all sorted out.”

“I wish I were as optimistic about it all as you, but it doesn’t feel like it’s going to all work out. I’m really scared.”

Lizzie came around the counter and gave me a hug and then snapped into analytical mode. “Okay so, let’s go over what we already know about the murder. First Barbara was working by herself, second she had your molten lava cake recipe card under her body and your death by chocolate cake was found at the scene of the crime. Ron was supposed to work but went to his mother’s. He had a motive because of an insurance money maybe, but who else could be a suspect?”

I quickly told her about what I found out about Willie and how I had called David to tell him about it.

“I would never have thought that Willie could be a killer!”

“We still need to check Ron out, though.” 

“Didn’t the police say that he’d gone to his mother’s house?” asked Lizzie.

“I know, but when did he go and how far away does she live from the bakery?  She’s old, sick and maybe not a great alibi when it comes down to it.”

“Well, I think it’s time to bring something over to Ron and pay your respects.”

“What?”

“Give me your apron.  She reached to untie it.  I’ll stay here and mind the store while you go to Ron’s and see what you can find out.”

“I can’t go over at this time of the morning.” I started to retie the apron.

“Then, go home and take a shower, change, rest, run , go talk to Rachel and Mark, call the lawyer like Detective Hunky told you to do.  Just go home for awhile.  I’ll be fine.”

“I already talked to Mark this morning.  He bought the cake for himself, he says. I wonder who he’d shared it with?  I guess it didn’t matter all that much. But as far as I can tell, he didn’t have a motive to want Barbara dead.”

“I’ll be fine, really.”

“Sure.  You, who can’t boil water, are going to be fine in my bakery?”

She blushed slightly and said, “Well, is there anything left to cook this morning?”

“You mean bake?”  Thinking of the several dozen rolls and six loaves of breads baking. “No, I think I have enough.” I went to the oven and took out the rolls.

“Then there is no problem.  All I have to do is make coffee, which I can do and sell stuff.”

“You’ll have to take the bread out in about ten minutes,” I added.

She nodded. “Look you know what you want to ask Ron about stuff and to check with Rachel anyway, so why don’t you talk to them yourself.  After come back here, and we’ll plan how to get into the bakery, if you still really want to.  Maybe Hunky will let us in.”

“I don’t think David would be able to do that.  He might bend a couple of rules, but breaking and entering in a crime scene probably isn’t a great career move.”

A car pulled up and Lizzie looked out the window.

“Hey, isn’t that Detective Lynch?  Maybe now would be a good time to disappear, MB.”

I looked out the window to see him standing next to his car.  He was on the phone and he was alone. Maybe that meant he wasn’t coming to arrest me. My heart raced and I felt a bit nauseous as I slipped off the apron, grabbed my phone and coat and went out the back door.

“Text me,” I hissed.

If I could get to the end of the block, then I’d be out of sight from the main street to my house. Did this make me a fugitive?  No, it couldn’t I hadn’t been arrested, so technically I wasn’t escaping from anything.

I waited in the back for a minute, hoping that he’d gone inside the bakery already.  His car was parked at the end of the block, so it didn’t give me much choice but to go past it to get home.  With a deep breath, I moved from beside the back door and started around to the front. No one ever was in the empty lot on that side of the building. When I got to the side window, I ducked under it.  I could barely move with the adrenaline building and making my legs wobbly and almost unresponsive. I hoped Lizzie would distract him long enough for me to scoot away.  At the front corner of the building I peered around the wall.  Peter paced a bit as he continued to talk on the phone.  I had to calm down my heart
as it pounded so hard that I couldn’t hear well.  I crouched down a bit and leaned around the corner to see if I could hear a snippet of the conversation.  He didn’t look happy, but I wasn’t sure that I’d ever really seen him look happy before. 

“She’s guilty, man. I don’t care if you are still stuck on her.  I’ve got to go.” He slapped his flip phone closed and jammed it into his coat pocket and then strode into the store.  Poor Lizzie, I thought as I raced from behind the building and past the car to the other side of the street.  I slowed to a walk just before the end of the block where I turned to go home. I wondered who he had been talking to and if I had been the “her” that he spoke about to the caller.

Once there, I quickly changed my clothes into some khakis and a button down shirt. It looked a bit wrinkly so I rummaged in the closet for a sweater to put over it.  I tried to think about what to say to Ron when I saw him.  Maybe I could just see how he reacted when I called on him and go from there.

“Of course,” I said to my reflection in the mirror as I fixed the sweater, “if he thinks that I murdered his wife; then he may not be all that glad to see me.” 

I glanced at my watch. “Only eight in the morning, so it might not be the best time to go knocking on his door.” 

I fished my phone out of my pocket and searched for the lawyer that David told me about. 

A gruff voice answered the phone, “Cahill and associate.”

“Um,” I stammered taken aback by the sound of the voice since I had expected a receptionist or someone who sounded pleasant to answer the phone, “Good morning.  I wondered if I could speak with Brian Cahill, please.”

“You’ve got him.  What can I do for you?”

“Right, well, you see, I think I may need a lawyer.”

“Well, my normal hours are 9-3, so my secretary isn’t in yet.  Can you call back in an hour to make an appointment?”

“Can’t I tell you what’s happening since you’re already on the phone?”

He sighed and made a loud sipping sound. “Alright, I guess I did answer the phone, what’s your issue?”

So far, I really didn’t find this referral to be all that helpful. “I may be charged with murder, but I am innocent.  I don’t think anyone cares about that part.  Detective David Bentley gave me your name.”

“Ah, old Davey B.  So he’s made detective now. Well good for him!  Wait, are you involved in the hoopla over in Fish Creek Falls?”

“I am, but I didn’t kill Barbara.” I said again not really certain that he heard me the first time.

“Who is this?”

“Myra Bailey, I own the new bakery in town and it was my cake that poisoned her, but it wasn’t me.  Can you help me, Davey, I mean David said he thought you would be the best since you grew up here…”

I heard a car in front of the house and went to the window to look out. It was Peter Lynch. 

“The police are here,” I shrieked a bit.

“Ok, Myra Bailey, I’ll represent you. I like a challenge.  Say nothing, if you are arrested until I get there.  If possible, say nothing before that too, should they just wish to question you further.  The gruff voice had become somehow kinder and filled with an enthusiasm that hadn’t been there before. “Give me your address and I’ll be over in a half hour.”

I babbled the address as the knock on the door came.  “Thank you,” I said and hung up to answer the door.

“Good morning, Ms. Bailey, I’m surprised to find you at home.  I thought you’d be at your bakery.”

“Well, then why did you come here?”

He stiffened and said, “Actually, I went to the bakery and Ms. Stevens told me that she didn’t know exactly where you were, so I thought that I’d check here as a first stop.”

“Come in, Detective.” I swung the door open further. “Would you like something to drink?’ I said trying to be a bit sociable.  I wanted to buy some time until Mr. Cahill got here.  I hoped that he drove fast.

My phone beeped with a text from Lizzie.  “Told Dicktective that I needed $ so you let me work for you…good luck.”

“Nothing for me.  Why are you not at the bakery this morning, ma’am?”

“Oh, well, I slid my phone into my pocket. “I felt a bit tired and Lizzie needed some extra cash, so she opened for me.”

“I wondered, Ms. Bailey, what type of training you have?”

“Training for what?”  Though I thought that I knew what he was getting at. My undergrad degree had been in chemistry because I flirted with the idea of going to medical school, but the only thing I really loved mixing and fixing were recipes for the best baked goods in the world, so I never pursued it.  When I had been with Mark, he’d suggested a business track so that I could eventually start my dream bakery.

“Your college degrees, what are they in, ma’am? Culinary Arts, perhaps?” he said this with a—I already know the answer to this question tone.

“I have an MBA, which helped me to get my business started, but no, I never studied the culinary arts, I am self-taught.”  

“What about your undergraduate degree, that is in chemistry, if I’m not mistaken?”

“I wanted to go to medical school so my undergraduate degree prepared me if I decided to go.”

“But, it was a chemistry degree, right?”

“What are you getting at, Detective?” as if I didn’t know…

“Just that you hold a chemistry degree who bakes and that is an interesting combination is all,” he stared at me, but said no more.

I held his gaze because I thought somehow I would seem guilty if I looked away. 

“Was there something in particular that you’d like to say, Detective?”  I tried not to sound angry.