A Drizzle of Murder Page 7

  He walked in and I greeted him with a tray of cookies. I quickly realized the look on his face was a somber one.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, Red,” he said, “your lady friend says you weren’t in her room that night.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “I have to take you in for questioning because you’re now a suspect.”

  “So, Doris she has selective memory. She’s old, like me. She forgets things,” he said. “I didn’t kill anyone. Coco, tell him.”

  His eyes pleaded with me but I didn’t know what I could do. “I don’t think he killed anyone, Logan,” I said.

  “I hope he didn’t, but without an alibi, we have to take him in. I’m sorry to do this, today, but it’s the law.”

  With that he had Red stand up and cuffed his hands behind his back. My heart broke seeing Red walking out with his head down in front of half the town. I found myself angry with Stella and Vivian who were peacocking around after Red was walked out. Henry raced out after him probably hoping to bail him out.

  “We’re detectives, look at that,” they told Masie. I just walked out the back for some air. I couldn’t be trusted not to tell them off for getting him in trouble. Doris probably really did forget he was there. That’s what he got for courting a woman with selective memory. I shook my head. As much as I didn’t want to let it ruin the grand opening, not having Red there put a real damper on the party.

  Scooter walked out to find me. “Dude, I don’t think that old guy iced that mover guy.”

  “I don’t either,” I said smiling at Scooter, “but he’s been arrested just the same. You know how proud Red is, I’m worried about him.

  Just then the door burst open and Gus Smathers stood in an expensive blue suit. Masie flew in next trying to drag him back into the dining room.

  “Come on Masie, “ he was saying, “you know I can’t pass up a story like this.”

  “I’m sorry Coco,” she said, “he wouldn’t stop. I told him nothing to see, but he saw Red getting led out.”

  “Will you please give me a statement about whether you think Red is guilty or not?”

  I’d had it. This was not news, this was not for anyone’s paranormal television series or whatever those dweebs were doing, this was my life. This was my livelihood.

  “Red is innocent and this is all a huge misunderstanding,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “I can quote you,” Gus asked. The anger had made my face hot. I was angry at everyone and they were ruining my dream. I wished at that moment I would have stayed at my old location. No one ever got murdered there.

  I could just go there and have my few customers and make my living. No, I had to expand. I thought I needed a bigger space.

  “Masie,” I said quietly, “get everyone out and close the bakery. We’re done for today.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said hearing the I’m about to lose my cannolis voice. I sat down and waited for everyone to be gone so I could work out a plan to save Red.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Walking into the bakery the next day felt surreal. We'd been preparing for so long for the grand opening, and now it had happened. It was back to business as usual.

  "You hear from Red," Scooter asked as I walked into the kitchen.

  "No, I tried to call Logan but got nothing. I hope they aren't grilling him."

  "Should we close the bakery?"

  I shook my head. "Let's just make it through today," I told him.

  He nodded and went back to working on the little cakes for the display case.

  I took out my notepad from the night before and looked over my notes about the murder. I’d tossed and turned all night trying to make sense of everything. What was I missing?

  "Knock, knock," Stella said from the doorway and I looked up to see her and Vivian walking in carrying a cake. "We brought cake."

  "Why did you bring cake?" I asked.

  "Why not?" She countered and walked into the bakery.

  "Because, Stella, that's what we do here. We make baked goods, when you bring in a cake you're saying it's not good enough." I rubbed a hand over my weary face.

  "Stella," Scooter screeched inappropriately as he came from the back. That boy never could read the room.

  “I just feel bad,” she said, “and baking is how my mother taught me to say I’m sorry.”

  Stella looked down at her feet. I wasn’t sure why she felt bad but I suspected it was because of getting Red arrested.

  “I’m not saying I don’t think he’s guilty, but you seemed mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad Stella,” I said. “I just don’t think you should have been so quick to question him in front of the police.”

  “They weren’t looking at him as a suspect,” Masie added.

  “I know stranger things have happened,” I said, “but I just don’t think Red is the type to stab a man to death in my bakery.”

  “We can’t rule anyone out,” Stella said putting her self-appointed detective hat back on. She put the sour cream pound cake on the counter, “but here’s some cake.”

  I was never going to get it through her head she didn’t need to continuously bring me baked goods. The truth was I hoped it wasn’t Red. I’d started to doubt my own ability to judge people. If Red was guilty then everything I knew about the world was wrong. That was a hard pill to swallow.

  “So, Coco,” Stella said still trying to engage me in conversation. “Have you heard from Logan about Red.”

  I was ready to tell her I hadn’t when the phone in my pocket started ringing. I saw it was Logan and rushed to answer.

  “I’ve been calling you,” I said, “what’s going on?”

  “Sorry, bank robbery. Needed all hands since we have so few. I questioned Red, and his story has stayed the same. It means we’ve gotten nowhere. He’s still here, but he’s been fed and had a place to sleep.”

  “Like I would think you’d make him sleep on the floor or something,” I said. “Never mind, now what happens?”

  “I’ve got to go talk to his lady friend and see if her story changes at all,” Logan said. “It’s pretty cut and dry right now...he doesn’t have an alibi, but we have no physical proof he did anything wrong.”

  “So, you let him go.”

  “I will, once I confirm his alibi,” Logan said. He lowered his voice. “Look, I don’t think he’s capable of killing anyone either, but the law is the law. I have to investigate all suspects and follow protocol.”

  “I get it. Just call me if something changes, please,” I said.

  No one asked what he said. They heard. I felt dejected and wished there was some way I could help my friend.

  Henry walked in and I rushed over to hug him.

  “That Doris, she’s about as smart as your spatula, Coco,” he said. “I told her she needs to remember seeing Red or he’s going to pay for it. She said something about him not complimenting her hairdo and he’s dead to her. Crazy old bat.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay Henry,” I gestured between the two of us, “we know he’s innocent.”

  “You're going to have to make her some cupcakes too,” I heard Vivian whisper to Stella.

  A customer came in at that moment and diffused the situation a bit. I put on a large smile and asked how I could help him.

  “You can help me by performing a miracle,” he said.

  “That’s a new one,” Masie said tying on her apron.

  “Okay, what’s the miracle,” I asked thinking nothing could really have surprised me that day.

  “I was supposed to order desert for a banquet tonight. You know, a catered event. It was the only job my wife gave me. I just botched it. Anyway, you do catered orders?”

  “We sure do!” Scooter yelled before I had a chance to say it depends on the order.

  “Great, I need about five hundred pastries. I don’t care what kind, just by tonight.”

  My mouth hung open. That was so many pastries, my ovens were big
ger now, but not that big

  “Look, I’ll pay whatever,” he said, “you’d really be saving me.”

  “You don’t care what kind?” I asked as my mind flew through recipes trying to find the most cost-efficient ones. I wanted to make a profit.

  “Nope, not at all. Edible and I’m good.”

  “Alright, what time is the banquet?”

  “Seven,” he said.

  “We’ll get it done,” I told him, not sure at all if I could handle it. It would be really good for business. There would be people who would tell other people about my scones if I could pull it off. “Bring your credit card.”

  “Or we’ll take cash,” Masie said, I elbowed her in the ribs.

  “What,” she said, “it’s easier to deposit.”

  “Scooter call the intern, ask her if she can come in today instead of tomorrow. I hadn’t realized we’d need her so soon.”

  “Stella and Vivian I’m going to need some fast bakers,” I told them. “Henry I’ll need you to go to the store.”

  If I was going to pull this off, I needed everyone’s help. I texted Rose and told her to come over after her last dog.

  Several hours, a whole lot of flour, and at least one panic attack later, we’d managed to make five hundred pastries and haul them out to the guy’s truck.

  “If you ever need anything, just call me,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, in all the excitement I didn’t introduce myself,” I said. “I’m Coco and these are my incredible helpers.”

  “Thanks for staying late with me. I think this is the best thing we could have done to get started,” I told them.

  A chorus of agreement went up around the room.

  We all left the bakery together and I climbed into Daisy. My feet and back hurt and I was ready to go home and lie down. I was halfway home when I decided I was irritated Logan hadn’t called me. I wanted to check in on Red though, so I went to grab my phone to call Logan. It wasn’t there. I’d left it in the bakery.

  For a minute I thought about calling Masie to come back and walk in with me. That was silly though, we’d been in the bakery all night and been fine. I was just going to run in and run back out. I walked back over to the front pulling out my keys.

  When I entered at first I didn’t see my phone. It was hiding behind a big stack of receipts. Luckily the little green light flashed. I heard Scooter in the back making some terrible noise. It sounded like he was hammering.

  When I walked in the back, I planned on asking him what mad scientist cake he had concocted. Only, it wasn't Scooter, it was Tom's moving partner. We stared at each other and I decided to try and run.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The move felt like slow motion as I tried to sprint towards the swinging doors that would take me back to the front. The man jumped up from the floor at the same time with a hammer in his hand.

  It seemed he'd been hammering the grate for some reason.

  "Hey there, little lady," he said in a sickening voice. "I guess you wouldn't believe I was fixing the grate."

  "Um, sure, if that's what you say you were doing," I said my voice coming out high and squeaky.

  "Don't move," he said showing me his waistband where a gun poked out. "I need to figure out what to do with you."

  There was no doubt in my mind he'd killed his partner, though I didn't know why. There was also the strong possibility that I was in danger because I'd seen him looking in the grate.

  "You weren't supposed to be here for this, you know," he said as he grabbed me. I screamed, but there was no way anyone could hear me. All the surrounding shops were closed. All my friends were gone.

  He pulled me towards the metal racks and grabbed one of the aprons. Tying my hands tightly together he tied them in an impossible knot to the racks and struggling only made the ropes tighter.

  He went back to hammering on the grate, which I realized he was trying to pry open with a screwdriver.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I could tell you,” he said, “but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “I have a feeling, that’s the plan anyway,” I said under my breath. Maybe I could stall him until someone, anyone came along. That was wishful thinking.

  “Good point, I’m trying to get the knife. This is all Tom’s fault you know,” he said as he started to pace. “I just wanted to tell him to straighten up, but he was drunk and came after me. I had to stab him, it was self-defense.”

  “Okay, good, then you can just let me go and tell the cops that.”

  “No, you see. Now I’ve waited too long, let it get away from me. Now I need the weapon, and then I could have disappeared into the night. Now, I have loose ends,” he said.

  “No, you don’t,” I said. “I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see you.”

  “Tom was giving the company a bad name, doing whatever he wanted. He wasn’t nice to anyone. I just needed him to stop losing client’s things. Now I think he might have stolen them.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said. Maybe agreeing with him would keep me alive. I'd been pulling on the ropes the whole time to no avail.

  “Things just went bad, okay. Things just went bad.”

  I nodded, trying to agree with him, but I wasn't sure it would keep me alive.

  He went out the back and left me by myself. I struggled as hard as I could to get out of the ties. My wrists hurt but there was no way I could get free.

  It would be pretty ironic if I died in the same room as Tom. Wait was that irony? I wasnt sure. The stress was making me foggy.

  I needed to keep a clear head if I was going to figure out how to get out of this. My cell phone was in my pocket but I couldn't get to it. I spent a long time trying to figure out a way to get my pockets to my hands which were tied up in front of me at chest level. I ended up doing this strange back bend of sorts that ended up giving me back spasms. I cursed my somewhat pudgy frame.

  It was no use as struggling was futile. He was going to win. I felt an overwhelming wash of despair as I realized it could be the end. I'd just opened the bakery. I wouldn't get to buy Scooter a new ride. There was so much I wanted to do.

  When he came in again, he had a larger screwdriver and went back to hammering on the grate. I'd never even noticed the grate so I was sure the police overlooked it in their search.

  I assumed he was looking for the murder weapon. It must have fallen in the grate since they hadn't found it yet.

  "You like antiques," I asked

  "Do I what?" He said stopping the hammering to look up at me.

  "We found your ticket to the antique show.” Not sure where I was taking the conversation. I just wanted to slow the process down.

  "I wouldn't go to that stupid crap," he said resuming his work on the grate.

  "It wasn't your ticket. Of course, it was Tom's. The Faberge eggs. Man, that was a miss on mine and Logan's part."

  "Stop talking. I need to concentrate."

  He continued to jimmy the grate and I could see it was starting to come loose. I was running out of time if I was going to somehow talk my way out of being his latest victim.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After a long afternoon of baking, Rose hadn’t been enthused to get a phone call for an emergency grooming. She realized nights like these were the reason she should have stopped offering that service. She’d been determined to save enough money to buy her own place. Renting had become old and she hated paying rent every month knowing it wasn’t gaining her anything.

  Offering the emergency service gave her extra money to save back. She’d worked hard to build her business on her own, but most of her profit went back into it.

  “I’ll have her finished up in an hour if you want to take a nap on the bench,” she told the lady who had to be the most disheveled person she’d ever seen. She didn’t even try to hide the fact she’d been in bed when her husband came to tell her that rover was a hot mess. Since it was now after ten that had to be as early as eight. She’d
tried to fix the problem for a couple hours herself effectively making it much worse.

  “No, I’ll go sit in my car,” the woman said sleepily.

  Staring into the dark brown eyes of the poodle she was in charge of cleaning she watched as it tilted its head begging her not to. Most of her charges hated baths. Just once she wanted one who frolicked into the water and panted with joy.

  “Sorry, Miss Priss Pants, you gotta. I’ll make sure the water is warm.”

  For some reason, the dog had rolled in a bunch of gum. Her owner, frantically making it worse had tried putting peanut butter on it. She didn’t say where her husband had walked her, but from the amount on the dog’s fur it had to be through a gum field. She guessed the park, people threw their gum off the sidewalk with reckless abandon.

  Now Miss Priss Pants had gum and peanut butter everywhere. “So, let’s see if we can soften some of that gum with a bath and some soap. It will at least get the peanut butter off you.”

  The dog whined not agreeing with her plan, so she started the water anyway.

  In the middle of her bath, Rose had looked out the window across at the bakery and saw Coco had left a light on. While that wasn’t like her, it had been a long day. She was very proud of everything her best friend had accomplished. The fact she’d moved closer to Rose’s business thrilled her. Rose had worried about Coco after the divorce, but she’d shone through it.

  A chill ran up Roses' spine as she looked out the window and saw a man sneaking around the back of the bakery. Her chest tightened when she saw Daisy sitting out front and realized that she hadn't noticed Coco was actually there.

  Why had she gone back?

  If Red wasn't the killer, and Rose seriously doubted he was, it was possible Coco was about to be in a situation with the killer. She called the police station and it rang several times before anybody answered.

  "I need to speak to Detective Logan, CoCo is in danger," she said.

  “Who's Coco,” the voice on the other end asked. She sounded like she’d woken up from a very long nap.