Sweet Taffy and Murder: Sweet Taffy Cozy Mysteries Book #1 (13 page)

If Anthony Herbert wasn’t the killer, who was? When he had called Taffy to his office, he had insinuated Swain knew more than he’d told the police. After meeting Swain, she thought so, too. Either Swain had guessed that the bowling ball had fallen off the shelf, trying to be helpful, or else he had purposely misled the police, in order to protect someone or something. Was that someone or something the reason he had ended up facedown in the marina?

Or was it simply an accident? Had Swain, sober for twenty years, simply fallen off the wagon and then fallen off the boat?

Whatever he had planned to tell Taffy about the MBC, she’d never know now. All she could now do was work with what she had.

When Taffy parked in front of Davenport’s law office, she noticed Austin’s Corvette parked farther down the block.

Hearing the chime from the main door, Davenport exited his inner office and met Taffy in the outer office.

“Where’s Janice?” Taffy stared at the empty receptionist’s desk.

“One of the twins is sick today.”

Davenport’s eye twitched as he reported this.

“I was just wondering if you could get in touch with this Portland Law firm and ask about—”

“I’m in a meeting at the moment. Could you come back later?”

Through the partially open office door, she saw Austin sitting in the client chair. He had one ankle crossed over his knee and was thumbing through a sheaf of papers perched on his crossed leg.

“You represent the Vallee brothers, too?”

“Many of the local business owners are my clients.”

“Is he, you know, straight?” She said this quietly so Austin couldn’t hear.

Davenport cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “I’m aware that he dates women, if that’s what you—”

“No, no. I mean as a businessman. Is he on the up and up? Does he do business
fairly
? You know, ethically?”

“He’s
my client
, Miss Belair.”

“Sorry. It’s just that I’ve heard rumors.”

“You, of all people, must know that not all rumors are true.”

“‘Me of all people’?”

Davenport smiled. “Rest assured, I chose not to believe what I heard about
you
. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned on his Hush Puppy heel and disappeared into his office. The door closed with a click.

What kind of rumors were going around about her?

Taffy stepped out onto the main street. She stared at Austin’s Corvette. The vanity plate read: SPEED. Back in New York that would have impressed her. His flashy car and handsome charm would have been enough to let him buy her a drink or two. But she had changed. That kind of thing didn’t impress her anymore. At least not so much.

She glanced at her Aveo, sighing. It would be nice to drive a Corvette for a change, open it up on the curving highway, give over to its power, its smoothness, its ability to hug the curves… She shook out her thoughts. It was best not to go down that road.

She glanced back through Davenport’s plate-glass window. Who knows? Maybe if Austin asked her one more time she’d say yes. It’s not like Ethan was showing much interest.

She looked up at Davenport’s sign above his door. Rumors, huh? She knew one person who could put her mind at ease about that.

It was just getting dark as Taffy pulled into the gas station.

A curvy, pudgy-handed gas jockey stepped from her small room and bounced over, her ponytail swinging through the back opening of her baseball cap.

“Sweet Taffy. What brings you here? Want a fill-up?”

“I’d rather you fill me in on the rumors going on around town.”

“About what? Swain’s sad demise? Aubin’s failing nuptials? Janice being jilted? Clint’s tastes in men? Yeah, that was a big disappointment for me.”

“What rumors are going around
about me
?”

“Oh, only the usual.”

“Usual?”

“Let’s see. That you’re destined to inherit millions, that you dye your hair, lipo your thighs, and you used to be a high-end call girl—”

“Whaaat?? You know none of that’s true, don’t you?”

“Of course. Oh, and my personal favorite: you’re obsessed with dead people.”

“Seriously?”

“My real favorite is the truth though. That you’re dreamy Dillon Archer’s daughter —and no, I haven’t whispered that to another soul, I promise— and you’re my friend. You’d be surprised how many people don’t believe that.”

Ellie bit her lip and adjusted her baseball cap.

“But they’ll believe I’m a lipo-sucking call girl. Go figure.”

“Want a chocolate bar?” Ellie pulled four from her vest pocket. “You might as well earn the lipo one.”

Taffy took a bar. “What can you tell me about Austin Vallee?”

Ellie grinned. “You’re going to go for it, are you? Park Ranger Dude doesn’t quite make the cut, I get it.” She nodded knowingly, and Taffy didn’t see the point in contradicting her. Besides, she was partly right.

“So what have you heard about Austin?”

Ellie furrowed her brow and appeared to be scanning the overstuffed files of her memory. “Not a lot so far. He moved here a few years ago. His brother a little while after him. He seems to have money, or at least access to it, for all his development deals. I told you about his taste in girls already. I have heard he greases palms to get his business deals through.”

“I had a feeling he didn’t play fair.”

“Does anyone in business? All’s fair in love and war, they say, and most business is a bit like war, don’t ya think? Doesn’t mean it’s true though. Not all rumors are. Like, I’m pretty sure you’re not a call girl.” She raised an eyebrow looking for confirmation.

Taffy snort-laughed. “How do you know so much about people in town?”

“Might be hard to believe, but I listen as much as I talk. Sometimes at the same time.”

Maybe Ellie wasn’t as air-headed as Taffy thought.

A car pulled into the next bay. Ellie headed over to pump the gas, calling over her shoulder,

“Come over to my place before you go on a date with Austin. I’ve got some blingy jewelry you can borrow.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

* * *

When Taffy got back to the house, she gave Midnight some food. He was fattening up nicely. He had started out standoffish and suspicious but slowly seemed to be warming to her. He must miss his real owner. She’d once read a horrible story on the internet about how dogs, so loyal, would sit forlornly by their dead masters for weeks on end but that some cats, within twenty-four hours of their owners dying, had been known to start gnawing the dead body. She had no idea if such a gruesome anecdote were fact, but she sensed that Midnight was more loyal than most cats, at least those internet cats.

If only Midnight could talk. He could probably shed some light on what had really happened to Janet.

She left him to his plate of food and went upstairs to shower.

A half hour later, soap-scented and cozy in her bathrobe, Taffy decided to paint her toenails. It had been ages since she’d done it herself. She tried to choose between a bright shade of red or pale-pink polish for her toes. It was a tough decision. Red was more flamboyant and sexy, but pink was more innocent, understated, and playful. Taffy settled on the pink polish because the red reminded her too much of bloodstains. Her thoughts circled back to Janet and the case.

It was frustrating to be back at square one again. Finding the murder weapon would be a big leap forward in the case. If it wasn’t a bowling ball, what was it? Janet had clearly suffered a bleeding wound, as evidenced by the floor stain. Maria had said it could have been a different kind of blunt instrument. But what?

As she was brushing on her second coat, Midnight trotted across the carpet.

He deposited a wriggling mouse in front of Taffy’s newly polished toes. She screamed, tipping over the polish bottle. Clearly disappointed by Taffy’s reaction, he clamped his jaws around the mouse and trotted away. Taffy, with cotton stuffed between her toes, followed him, yelling, “Drop it! Wait! Not in the house! Take it outside!”

She followed Midnight down the steps and out into yard. He turned back once, the mouse still twitching between his teeth. Taffy thought she might be ill.

He jumped onto the woodpile and then sat there watching Taffy inelegantly flap and heel-walk her way towards him. “Let it go!” Midnight opened his jaws and let the mouse drop onto a piece of wood. It lay there stunned for a second before scrambling to its tiny feet and disappearing amongst the stacked logs.

Midnight licked his paw and used it to wash his face. His eyes seemed to say, “Satisfied? Now that I’ve let that morsel go, he’ll make his way back to the kitchen,
and then
you’ll be sorry.”

Taffy reached out and patted his soft head. “Good kitty.”

She sat down next to him on the woodpile, remembering her first morning in Abandon and how freaked out she was when she met Ethan. She looked to the top left of the woodpile for the piece of wood that had given her a splinter that first morning. She’d tucked it aside. For sentimental reasons. She hadn’t wanted to burn it. It still had a small dark stain of her blood on it.

Midnight, his face-wash finished and clearly tired of being petted, yawned and jumped down off the woodpile, dislodging the piece he’d been sitting on. It fell to the ground. As Taffy reached down to pick it up and replace it, she saw another piece of wood with a small stain on it. She dug around and loosened it. Holding it up to the light, she saw that this stain was slightly bigger and more spatter-y. But Taffy had only ever had the one splinter.

So whose blood was this?

The next morning, Maria gave Taffy a very strange look when she walked into the precinct carrying two pieces of firewood.

“Got an itch to go camping?” said Maria.

Taffy looked around the office. “Where is everyone?”

“There’s a protest going on up at the bird sanctuary. Seems peaceful so far, but the proposed development there has been a contentious issue over the past few months. I’m manning the ship here. Me and Zoe.”

Zoe, the clerk, had her eyes glued to the computer screen perched on the booking counter.

Taffy dropped into the chair beside Maria’s desk and laid the two pieces of wood on top of her papers. Then she leaned in, smiling triumphantly.

“I’m betting one of these is the murder weapon.”

“A piece of firewood?”

“Look at this.” She pointed out the stains on wood. “I got the pieces mixed up when I was comparing them. One’s got my blood on it—long story— and the other, I’m guessing, is stained with Janet Harken’s blood.”

Maria looked more closely. “Doesn’t look like blood.”

“But it looks the same as this, and I know
this
is blood. Mine. From a splinter.”

Maria shrugged. “What if Janet got a splinter just like you?”

Taffy frowned. She hadn’t thought of that. Then she remembered what Ethan had said.

“She never brought the wood in herself. Ethan always chopped it for her and carried it up to the crate on the deck. He told me that.”

Maria narrowed her eyes. “Are you suggesting Ethan knocked her out with a piece of firewood?”

“What? No! Ethan would never do that! Why would you even say that?”

“You’ve got me entertaining the notion that Bill Doucet could have hurt Janet, and I don’t think he would ever do that either. So I’m trying to keep an open mind. I kind of have to at this point.”

“Ethan has an alibi, doesn’t he?”

“So does Bill. Oddly enough, he and Bill vouched for each other. Claimed to be at the same meeting.”

Ethan and Bill had both held Janet in such high esteem. It didn’t seem possible that either of them could be involved. Taffy hadn’t intended to implicate Ethan. If the firewood led back to him, what would she do? As Ethan had once said, she was determined to find out the truth, but what of the cost?

“So what can you do? Send it to the lab or something? Check to see if the blood’s a match, or if there are fingerprints or whatever?”

Maria smirked. “It doesn’t quite work like that, but yeah, I can look into the substances. No harm in that.”

She dug around in her desk and pulled out a large evidence bag.

“It could be a breakthrough though, right?”

Maria cleared her throat. “Look Taffy, I appreciate your help, I really do, but a chunk of wood leaves a different impression than a bowling ball. It’s highly unlikely this was the murder weapon.”

“Oh.” Taffy was disappointed, and a little embarrassed.

“I know you’ve been trying to help, but support is waning here at the station. Chief Green wants to set aside the case. He’s concerned we haven’t found anyone with a real motive for killing Janet.”

“Herbert had one.”

“But his alibi sticks.”

“We haven’t ruled out Swain or Bill.”

“Or Ethan for that matter, but what motive would they have?”

Taffy thought for a moment. “What about that silent partner?”

Maria leaned back in her chair. “No word yet from the law firm, but by the paperwork, they really functioned at arm’s length, so I have my doubts they’d know anything at all. And any time now, they’ll be finding out the worst of it.”

Taffy raised an eyebrow, waiting for Maria to continue.

“The fact is, the candy factory’s on the brink of bankruptcy, thanks to Herbert’s mismanagement. There’s barely enough money to pay out this period’s wages, not even the full two weeks. The accounting firm that’s taken over is cutting checks to pay up to yesterday. Sorry for the bad news. About the factory and the firewood.”

Taffy looked down at her hands in her lap. Her fingernails were chipped. She’d never gotten around to finishing her polishing the night before. But she didn’t care about any of that anymore. These past ten days she’d felt useful for the first time in her life, as if what she did actually mattered. Even at the candy factory. And she believed that if she found Janet’s murderer, she would help make right something that was wrong. She couldn’t bring her back to life, but finding out the truth about Janet’s death might give her life new meaning. Maybe it would for Taffy, too.

“I really thought the wood would be… I don’t know… I wanted to make a difference is all.”

Maria reached for Taffy’s arm, touching it lightly. “You’ve been really helpful. Without your help, we’d never have uncovered Herbert’s embezzling at the factory. You’ve proven that you care about all this, I don’t doubt it. But don’t you think it’s a teeny bit possible that life here in Abandon hasn’t been, I don’t know,
exciting
enough for you? I mean, you’re used to the pace and drama of NYC, and Abandon doesn’t come close. I don’t mind admitting it.”

Was Maria implying that Taffy had nothing better to do than stir up a murder investigation for her own entertainment and self-esteem?

“But two people have died in the span of two weeks.”

Maria sighed. “Yeah, I know. And accidents happen. And people die. And someday you’re going to have to face that fact.”

Did Maria think this was all about Taffy’s mother’s death? And Taffy’s inability to grieve? It wasn’t that at all. She pushed down the lump starting to form in her throat. Maria just hadn’t considered everything yet. They had missed something.

“You’re sure there’s no link to Swain’s death?”

Maria gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m not sure of anything anymore. The chief is reviewing the notes on the investigation while we’re waiting on the medical examiner’s report. I promise I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

Maria was clearly frustrated.

“We’ll figure it out,” Taffy assured her. “I know we will.”

Maria dropped the marble into her desk drawer.

“You’re a good nut, Taff,” said Maria. “But you might as well go home. No point in going in to work now. I’ll let you know if anything pertinent turns up.”

Taffy got the hint. She stood up to leave.

Maria added, “Will I see you at the coffee shop opening later this afternoon?”

“Sure,” Taffy said. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

* * *

Taffy left the police station. The lump in her throat that had started to form when Maria talked about facing the fact that people die would not go away.

So she got in her Aveo and drove. She drove and drove until she found herself heading up the bluff road to the candy factory. There was no point in going into work, but it seemed to be habit now. By the time she got up to the bluff, she’d managed to push her feelings aside. All that remained was a feeling of disappointment at realizing she hadn’t lasted two weeks at her first job, but at least she hadn’t gotten fired.

Across from the factory, several cars were pulling away from the sanctuary, including two police cruisers. Was that protest Maria mentioned over?

Taffy pulled over next to the Castle Rock Bird Sanctuary sign. Someone had scribbled over the development permit sign: ‘go home desert swindlers’ and ‘birds are people too.’ That one made Taffy smile.

She noticed Ethan’s truck on the road leading into the sanctuary, and then she saw Ethan, too. He was packing signs and a megaphone into the flatbed of his pickup.

“Hey,” Taffy called out.

Ethan smiled when he saw her. “Hey, yerself.”

She looked around the site. Half the trees had been cleared, but the other half had tape woven around them and ‘save our trees’ and ‘save our birds’ signs tacked to them.

“Good turnout?”

“Not bad, but I think it’s a losing battle. The machines are still coming in early next week.”

“Guess you can’t stem the tide of progress.”

He gave her ‘a look.’

“What? Is it really that important?”

“Do you have any idea what they’re trying to do here?”

“No, I’ve had my mind on other things.”

“Right,
the investigation
.” He kept packing things into his truck. She didn’t understand why he was in such a bad mood.

“How can you be so keen on saving a forest of trees and so apathetic about getting to the bottom of a friend’s death?”

Ethan frowned. “You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and thought about what Maria said about keeping her mind open about suspects.

“Do you remember where you were the night Janet died?”

Ethan’s lips quirked into a smile. “Are you interrogating
me
now?”

“Maybe.”

“Maria already has, you know.”

“Right. She says you were at some meeting. The same one Bill Doucet was at.”

“She told you that? I didn’t think she was supposed to share information like that with just anyone.”

“‘Just anyone’?”

Ethan shook his head. “It was just a meeting, Taffy. It had to do with the parks.”

“Then why was Bill there?”

He paused. “He volunteers sometimes. Always has. Before Janet helped him get trained as a technician he helped maintain paths at the park from time to time.”

He looked away as he was speaking, and Taffy was unconvinced that this was the full truth.

“Was it the same kind of meeting last Saturday night, when you had to miss Ellie’s party?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re suspicious and argumentative and dead set on finding a murderer before you have all the facts.”

He dropped the protest signs into the truck bed with a bang.

“Well, I’m glad to know your true feelings, even if you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

Ethan seemed angry, but he spoke calmly. “Taffy, it’s not that.”

She took a step forward.

“You know something about the MBC, don’t you? The other day you pretended like you’d never heard of it, but I think you have.”

“So what? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“What else are you lying about?”

“I’ve never
lied
about anything, Taffy.”

“What about misconstruing the truth, avoiding certain questions, lying by
omission
.”

He shook his head. “I don’t need this.”

“You’re acting like you have something to hide.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t very friendly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He threw the last of his supplies into the back of the truck.

“It’s ridiculous to want to figure out who killed Janet Harken?”

He paused by his open door.

“No, it’s ridiculous to want to pin it on me.”

Then he got in and slammed the door. He turned the truck around in the muddy clearing of the sanctuary.

As he drove by her, he didn’t meet her gaze.

When the rumble of his truck had died away, Taffy looked across the clearing. She saw a pile of stumps and dead branches all prepped for a bonfire. Beyond that, a thick ring of trees, most marked to be cut down. She didn’t walk farther in to the sanctuary, not wanting to get her brown suede boots all muddy, so she headed back toward the road, trying to figure out what had driven her to confront Ethan like that.

She hadn’t meant to make him mad. She had only wanted to rule out her suspicions, but his reaction had only increased them. She couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone, but he seemed to be hiding something.

Janet was dead, and now Swain was, too. Maybe their deaths weren’t linked, but what if they were? If Swain had been killed because of knowing something about Janet’s death, then Taffy’s influence in getting the case reopened was partially responsible for Swain’s death. She really had opened a can of worms with her marble theory. She looked up at the sky and the gray clouds scudding by. Silently, she apologized to Randall Swain. And to Janet. And even to Ethan.

Maybe it was true. Maybe people did die accidentally and there was nothing Taffy could do about it. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to do anything about it. Maybe it was time to let sleeping dogs lie.