Adam, who had been at the front counter talking to another officer, came over and nodded at us before addressing Magnolia. "Right this way, Miss Nunez, and we'll get a statement from you."
"Sally Muccio." Magnolia's voice was full of venom. "This is all your fault."
Bewildered, I stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Miss Nunez." Adam touched her lightly on the arm. "I said to follow me please."
She shook him off and pointed a blood red acrylic nail at my face. "Damian told me all about you. You accused him of carjacking you. Guess you wanted to even the score, huh?"
Mike stepped between us. "You're crazy. My wife had nothing to do with his death. Stop harassing her."
She licked her lips, same color as her nails, and laughed. "Oh, that's right. I heard you two got married. Probably because she couldn't have Damian."
There had to be something in Colwestern's water. There was no other explanation for why anyone could think that I was still obsessed with the man after all these years.
Mike's body stiffened against mine. "Yeah, right. Get this through your head, Magnolia. Sally wasn't interested in your drug-dealing boyfriend. In fact, she's been through hell thanks to him."
Magnolia gasped. "Been through what? She's the one who killed him." Tears flooded her eyes as she lunged toward me. "I hope you rot in hell."
CHAPTER SEVEN
I shut my eyes tightly and prayed that the past 24 hours had been a dream. When I opened them again, I'd be lying in a hospital bed with our beautiful baby in my arms and Mike by my side. Perhaps carolers would even be outside the window. I'd heard that they visited hospitals during the Christmas season. Oh, please let this all be a dream.
Hopeful, I opened my eyes. No such luck. I was sitting on the bench discarded by Magnolia a moment ago. The bad dream had become a nightmare of reality, one that there was no waking from.
Adam had managed to restrain Magnolia before she reached me. We watched as she was led into the interrogation room, which was doing a booming business today. Magnolia continued to shout obscenities at me until Adam pushed her in ahead of him and slammed the door shut.
"You okay?" Brian asked me.
I managed a nod as Mike's arm went around my shoulders. "A little shaken."
He leaned against the wall. "Magnolia was in school with you and Damian?"
"Yes, but I didn't know her well. Magnolia's sister Dru Ann was in the same class as Gianna, and they were friendly to each other. She comes into the bakery occasionally. Last time Dru Ann was in, she told Josie that Damian and Magnolia were back together, but Magnolia thought he was dating his ex behind her back."
"That would be Rachel Hedley." Brian studied a paper in front of him. "She works at Colwestern Mall as a hairdresser. She's next on my list to question. It's interesting how both women showed up at his apartment last night." He shook his head, as if trying to absorb it all. "They don't get along, of course. Magnolia had to be restrained when she saw Rachel. A cat fight waiting to happen. Earlier, Magnolia told Adam that Damian mentioned he'd run into you."
"So that's it," Mike said with fury. "Magnolia killed him, and she framed Sal."
Brian held up a hand. "We don't have any proof that's what happened."
Although Brian didn't say it out loud, there certainly seemed to be plenty of proof on hand that I had done the deed. "This is insane. Dru Ann also told Josie that Damian's ex had a former drug problem, and the family blamed Damian for getting her hooked."
"Let's not forget how he turned up stoned at our ten-year reunion." Mike pursed his lips. "Then he started a fight with another classmate, and the police had to be called."
"I'm familiar with his past record," Brian said dryly. "Like I said earlier, he's been clean since last summer. He told his parole officer last night that he'd had a wake-up call."
I wondered what that meant.
"Forget about him," Mike interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry the guy is dead, but my wife is not responsible, and you know it, Brian. Can I take her home now?"
He nodded. "Yes, but make sure that you stay close by if we have further questions."
Mike swore under his breath while I choked back a laugh. "Brian, will you look at me please? Where would I go when I'm about to have a baby any minute?"
Before he could reply, the front door to the station opened, and Josie walked in. Her blue eyes went wide with alarm when she caught sight of us, and she rushed over.
"I came as soon as I got Brian's message," she said. "What's going on? Sal, why are you guys here? Did the Santas show up again?"
"No. Damian's dead."
She brought a hand to her mouth. "Holy crap. What happened?"
Poor Josie was going to feel responsible when I told her about the cake server, so I needed to be delicate. "He was stabbed in the neck, and it looks like it may have been done with my cake server—the one you gave me yesterday."
To my surprise, she slapped herself in the forehead. "Oh man! I should have called the police. This is all my fault."
Puzzled, we all stared at her. "Your fault?" I asked.
"Do you know how the server wound up in his apartment?" Brian inquired.
Josie blew out a long, steady breath. "No, but I stopped at the bakery after Danny's concert, before I came here. I'd taken my own car to the school, so Rob took the kids home without me. I'd forgotten my phone at the bakery and didn't have time to go back and grab it before the show. When I went into the back room, the alarm didn't go off." She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "I asked Dodie to lock up because I was in a hurry, and she must have forgotten to set the alarm. This is all my fault, Sal."
Now I wanted to slap myself in the forehead. We forgot to set the alarm for one day, and a break-in occurred. Yes, it could only happen to us. "Did you find anything missing?"
Josie shook her head. "I didn't even think to check for the server. But when I grabbed my phone off the display case—" She paused. "Oh, never mind. I'm sure it had nothing to do with Damian."
"What did you notice? Come on, Jos," I urged. "Anything might help."
She frowned. "Well, there were some gingerbread men left in the case before I closed up. When I stopped back after the concert, they were gone. I thought Dodie might have taken them or maybe you'd stopped to grab them on the way to your parents."
"No, I didn't go near the shop today. Damian's killer must have taken them when they stole the server."
Josie addressed Brian. "I know that the server was there this morning, because one of our customers made a comment about it. So that should clear Sal."
Brian looked pained. "Sally's not under arrest. If someone IDs her going into Damian's building earlier tonight or if she's spotted on the surveillance camera, then that's a different story."
"It's ridiculous that she even had to come here," Mike muttered, obviously wanting to have the last word.
Brian ignored his comment and showed Josie the picture of the crime scene on his phone. "Did you make these cookies?"
She nodded solemnly. "I decided to use up the leftover strawberry icing I had on hand for them. I thought they looked cute, but everyone asked for gingerbread men with white icing. Go figure. I planned to sell them at half price tomorrow. Boy, I won't make that mistake again. Good thing there was only about a dozen of them."
"Does anyone else know about the cookies?" I quaked at the thought. It felt like another strike against my innocence. Damian had told Magnolia about the carjacking. Who else had he told? He'd clearly enjoyed the attention, because he'd willingly come to the station when Brian asked him to. "Does Magnolia have an alibi? What if she killed him?"
Brian narrowed his eyes. "Don't even go there, Sally. Stay out of this."
"How do you expect me to stay out of this?" I shrieked. "I'm a murder suspect!"
The cop behind the front desk and the woman he was speaking to both looked over at us. Way to fly under the radar, Sal.
Brian turned to Mike. "Take her home." His gaze met min
e for a brief second, and then he looked away. "If you have questions tomorrow, please talk to Adam. Or my boss, Sergeant Graves. Anyone but me."
* * *
It was another night of tossing and turning for me. I experienced some Braxton Hicks contractions and was almost convinced it was the real thing, but they'd stopped all of a sudden. Too bad. Labor and back pain sounded more pleasant than prison.
The sun dawned brightly the next morning, radiating the cloudless sky, but it did nothing to help my current sour mood. My fitting for Gianna's wedding was rescheduled for tonight, and that only depressed me further. After Mike left for work, I took a shower and drove to my doctor's appointment. There were no signs of labor in progress, so Dr. Chandler scheduled me for another appointment on Tuesday morning, which was also Christmas Eve. I'd already explained about Gianna's wedding, but he wanted me to come in anyway.
As soon as I returned home, I put my pajamas back on and got into bed, then proceeded to watch three straight hours of game shows and soap operas. I'd also turned my phone off, an attempt to shut off the real world for a while.
Maybe the pregnancy was affecting my brain. I shouldn't be depressed. For goodness' sake, I was having a baby—the biggest thrill of my life. But my excitement had been temporarily dulled due to the fact that I was a potential murder suspect. Brian refused to help me, so I was on my own.
At two o'clock, I got out of bed and turned my phone back on. It rang within seconds. Mike was calling, and he sounded upset. "Sal, I've been texting you for the last two hours! I was about ready to drive over. I thought something had happened to you."
My shoulders sagged. I'd done it again, caused him more unnecessary worry. "Sorry, honey. I needed a break, so I shut it off. Guess I wasn't thinking."
His voice grew soft. "I hate that this is happening to you. Did the police call about further questioning?"
"Not yet. Hey, no news is good news, right?" I tried to sound lighthearted, but couldn't hide my feelings from him. Mike knew me too well.
"If they ask you to come down to the station," Mike continued, "call me right away. You are not going by yourself. Promise me, baby."
"Of course. I promise." His remark made me more irritated at Brian. I'd tried to be sympathetic to his situation last night, but if he'd needed my help, I wouldn't have deserted him. Then again, his personal situation might be playing a part. He and Ally had squabbled more than enough over me in the past.
"Gianna will be here soon," I went on. "She's leaving work early, and we're both having a last-minute fitting. If you don't hear from me for a while, please don't worry. I'll be struggling to get into my tent."
He chuckled on the other end. "I know that you think you've gained a little weight—"
"A little?" Incredulity filled my voice. "You're trying to be nice, but let's face the facts here. I'm a butterball."
His voice was gentle and barely above a whisper. "You've never looked more beautiful to me. Before you started carrying our child, I didn't think it was possible to love you more. But I was wrong."
Tears flooded my eyes. Damn hormones. I'd always cried easily, but the last couple of months I'd become a regular waterfall. "You did it again," I sobbed.
"What now?" he sounded puzzled.
I blew my nose into a tissue. "You keep making me cry."
Mike laughed out loud. "It won't be much longer, princess. Hang in there. Trust me. It will all be worth it once you see that little face."
His words made my heart melt. "I can't wait."
"Me either," Mike said. "Love you."
"Love you too."
As I waited for Gianna, I absorbed myself with repositioning some of the ornaments on our seven-foot fir Christmas tree. I inhaled the rich pine smell and stared mesmerized at the twinkling lights. I lovingly fingered the Baby's First Christmas rocking horse ornament Gianna had given me at my baby shower last month. My heart soared when I imagined holding my precious little bundle of joy. I'd been certain the baby would arrive before Christmas, but now I was starting to wonder if that would happen.
A horn tooted from outside. I glanced out the bay window and spotted Gianna's car in the driveway. I grabbed my purse, set the alarm, and locked the door. The weather was warm for this time of year, about 45 degrees, and a generous amount of snow had melted as a result. Although unusual, it made navigating the outdoors much easier for me.
Gianna drove in silence for a few minutes, then stole a sideways glance at me. "Sal, I'm sorry about last night. I was a complete idiot and way out of line."
I reached over to squeeze her hand. "No worries. And it wasn't so bad. Brian only asked me a few questions and even let Mike stay. It would have been a waste of your time."
Her lower lip trembled. "That's not the point. When someone is in trouble, especially a member of my own family, it's my job to defend them. I let you down." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I let everyone down these days. I can't plan a wedding or take decent care of my baby. Now I can't even do my job." A lone tear rolled down her cheek.
"Stop it. None of that is true. You're a wonderful mother and a terrific lawyer. Don't beat yourself up over it." I hated to see her like this.
Gianna was quiet for a few minutes, and it bothered me. Finally, I spoke up. "Gi, I hate to ask, but is everything okay between you and Johnny?"
She nodded and turned into the parking lot of Becky's Bridals. "Johnny's a true Mr. Mom. He's with the baby all day, you know, and they've really bonded. Alex is wonderful with his father, but he cries constantly whenever I watch him. He's even great when Nicoletta babysits him. Go figure. You know that she's driving me insane."
"She drives everyone insane. It's her job."
Gianna blew out a breath as she parked the car. "She insisted on inviting several friends of hers to the wedding—people that Johnny and I don't even know. I don't mean to be a jerk about the financial part, but other than the money Mom and Dad have contributed for the limousine and disc jockey, Johnny and I are footing the rest of the bill. Nicoletta hasn't given us one dime, yet she still expects to call all the shots."
"It's that Sicilian nature of hers." I sighed.
"I know Nicoletta's been through a lot with her health and Johnny's mother dying so young, but jeez! She needs to stay out of our lives. And it isn't just a Sicilian thing. Grandma's never acted like that."
"Grandma's one in a million, remember. Don't you dare let Nicoletta spoil everything. It's your and Johnny's day, and you should do whatever you want. Mike and I will do anything we can to support you both."
"Thanks, Sal." She gave me a wistful smile. "Honestly, I wish we had eloped. I love the idea of a Christmas wedding, but it's too much, especially with Alex teething and Nicoletta's interfering. Not to mention it's the worst time ever for you. I thought you might go a week or two early, like me. I feel so bad about putting you through this."
I heaved myself out of the car. "It's all right. Maybe the baby will come before the wedding. Hopefully, not while I'm walking down the aisle."
"Oh, no big deal," she assured me. "You always manage to get yourself out of difficult situations, so what's one more?" She looped her arm through mine as we headed for the entrance.
Becky's Bridals was the same boutique I'd gotten my wedding gown. There were other bridal stores in Colwestern, but this one was by far the best. The shop was situated in a duplex, with one side as Becky's business and the other her personal residence. We knew Becky Winchester personally since she'd been a former classmate of my mother's.
The building itself was cute as a button—white, vinyl siding adorned by pink shutters and a large sign with hot pink letters that read, Be a Becky Bride and Put Some Romance in Your Life. Inside of the salon was even more adorable with pale pink walls and rose-colored carpeting. The salon was split into two rooms, a similar setup to my bakery. One room contained racks of wedding gowns in almost every color, while the other was devoted to bridesmaids, mother of the bride, and in-law gowns.
"Th
ere they are!" Becky yelled to her daughter, Lydia, one of the seamstresses. "The Muccio girls have arrived. Okay, the Donovan and soon-to-be Gavelli wives, if you want to get technical. But you'll always be Muccio at heart. Come on into the dressing rooms. We're ready for you."
Becky was loud, brash, and good at her job. She'd been divorced three times, knew everyone's business in Colwestern, and in return, everyone knew hers. Like my mother, she had a fantastic figure and wore as little clothing as possible. Today she was wearing, of all things, a mini Santa dress and hat with knee-high black leather boots. It looked great on her but made me cringe. Lately I'd seen enough of Santa to last me a lifetime.
"Lydia's ready for you, doll," she said to Gianna as she led me to a dressing room. My gown, a red silk creation with short, puffy sleeves was already in there waiting for me. Becky patted my belly. "When are you due again?"
"Two days ago," I said.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh, honey. I hope your water doesn't break while you're walking down the aisle. I can't imagine anything worse."
Sadly, I could—having my baby in a prison cell, for starters. The very thought sent another tremor of fear through my body.
"You're shaking like a leaf, honey." Becky snapped her gum in my ear as she adjusted the sleeves of the dress. "Don't worry. If it's too tight, we can let it out again." She stood back and studied me critically. "How does it feel?" She started to pluck the material around my waist. "Oops. No room there. That's all baby."
"It's a bit snug," I confessed. Ugh. I didn't want to come back for another fitting. Becky was wrong. There wasn't enough material in the entire world to fit me. I managed a small laugh. "But I won't get any bigger in a couple of days, right?"
She smoothed out a wrinkle in the skirt. "They say that the baby gains half a pound every week in the last month of pregnancy. I was smaller than you, and Lydia weighed ten pounds. No one, not even the doctor, thought she'd weigh that much. They had to use forceps, and she still didn't want to leave." Becky giggled. "Then after twenty hours of agonizing labor, I had to have a C-section."
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