Ginger Snapped to Death

by Catherine Bruns

He deserved to know the truth, but he wasn't going to like it. "Magnolia wants to meet with me. Don't worry. Josie will be there and the customers, so—"

  Mike's fists clenched at his sides. "No way in hell. She could be Damian's killer, Sal."

  "I'm aware of that. Magnolia said she had some things to tell me. Besides, it's going to be in broad daylight, and there will be people around. Anyway, I want to see if business has picked up any."

  "You could always text Josie and ask about the sales." Worry lines creased his forehead. "The only way I'll let you go is if I'm with you."

  "Fine." I raised my face to kiss his. "You're awfully cute when you're mad, Mr. Donovan."

  He tried to look stern, but failed, his mouth twitching into a smile. "Grab your coat while I warm up the truck."

  When we arrived at the bakery, I was disappointed to see that there were only two customers in the store. Josie waved to us from behind the counter as she rang up an order. I stifled a groan. Two days before Christmas the place should have been mobbed with people buying gingerbread men, Christmas tree sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, and jelly cookies. We couldn't seem to catch a break.

  Mike must have guessed my thoughts, because his arm tightened around my shoulders. "Don't worry, princess. They'll all come rushing in at the last minute."

  After the customers left, Josie came over to greet us. "How are you feeling, Sal? Any bruises from yesterday?"

  Mike frowned. "Bruises? From what?"

  I shot Josie a warning glance. Mike didn't know about my tumble out of the van. It had only been a slight fall, but I'd still managed a cut on my leg that he hadn't seen. "Ah, Santa grabbed my wrist a little too tight, but I'm fine."

  A muscle ticked in Mike's jaw, but he said nothing. I worried that he might scare Magnolia off when she arrived. "Sweetheart, why don't you sit in the truck when Magnolia gets here?"

  Josie's mouth opened in amazement. "She's coming here? Why?"

  "She said she has some things to tell me about Damian that might help," I replied.

  "I don't like this," Mike declared. "What if she has a gun? I'm not leaving you, Sal."

  Josie's eyes misted over. She must still be hurting over what had happened. "Mike, I'm so sorry about yesterday. There's no way I'd ever let that woman hurt Sal. I won't leave her side." She pulled out her cell and flicked on the video option. "I'm recording the entire conversation."

  Good grief. "Between the two of you, we'll be lucky if Magnolia doesn't run screaming out of here. She only wants to talk, and I'd like to know who set me up. Sure, Damian was the victim, but in a sense, so was I."

  "But, Sal," Mike protested. "What if—"

  I gave him a push toward the back room. "You must have some calls to make, right? Well, you can do that from the back room." I turned to Josie. "And I'm sure you can find a way to stay busy behind the display case."

  Before she could reply, the bells over the front door jingled, and Magnolia walked in. She was dressed in a bright red coat and black leather boots with at least four-inch heels. My swollen feet hurt just looking at them. Mike stood in the doorway of the back room and pretended to be texting on his phone, but his gaze followed us as I gestured to a nearby table.

  Magnolia ignored me and went to peer into the display case. "I want some of those gingerbread men."

  "Give her two on the house please," I told Josie, who returned Magnolia's sullen stare with a deathlike one of her own.

  Without a word, she put two cookies on a plate and handed them to Magnolia. Magnolia crossed back to the table and sat across from me. She took a bite and kept her eyes pinned on Josie, who was standing only a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest.

  "You can stop with the bodyguard routine," Magnolia told her. "I'd never hurt anyone. Especially a woman who's preggers."

  Josie stared down her nose at Magnolia. "Forgive me if I don't happen to believe you. One false move and I'll have all of Colwestern's police force in here."

  "Ah, Jos, don't you have something to do in the back room?" I asked hopefully.

  She came and stood behind my chair. "Nope."

  I sighed and watched Magnolia gobbling down the gingerbread. "These are fantastic," she said. "Kind of weird how they were found next to Damian's body. He didn't even like gingerbread."

  Josie and I exchanged glances. "Did you tell anyone about seeing the cookies at the crime scene?" I asked. "Or only about finding my cake server?"

  "The cops asked me to refrain from sharing details about the murder scene. I'll tell you this though. On my way out of the station that night, some weird reporter was waiting for me. He followed me to my car and even offered me fifty bucks if I told him what I'd seen." She bit into her lower lip and stared down at the floor. "I needed the money, so I told him about your knife. But I didn't mention the cookies. Honest."

  I gritted my teeth in annoyance. "Cake server." If she said knife one more time, I might stuff that gingerbread man up her nose.

  "Sorry," she mumbled.

  Well, at least I knew how Jerry Maroon had gotten his information. That man was lower than pond scum. If he hadn't meddled, maybe my shop wouldn't be suffering at its busiest time of year. Instead, he'd spread the news all over his blog. He'd get his just desserts one day, I was certain of it. As Grandma Rosa often said, "Karma was a snitch."

  Magnolia's lips quivered. "Your cake server was sticking out of Damian's neck when I found him. There was blood everywhere." She hiccupped back a sob. "It was obvious to me that he was dead. Yeah, I was in shock and didn't know what I was doing, but I remembered seeing your name on the knife…er, server. Then I put two and two together. He'd told me about the carjacking earlier and that you were still hot for him. I guess he was trying to make me jealous, and it worked." Her gaze settled on the doorway to the back room, where Mike was standing, leaning against the frame, his eyes narrowed on her. "Another bodyguard I see. By the way, he's much better looking than he was in high school."

  "Finish your conversation," Mike called over. "My wife has more important things to do today."

  She glared at him and then addressed me. "Are the cops close to catching Damian's killer?"

  Was Magnolia on a fishing expedition? She had both means and motive to have killed her boyfriend. "You should probably talk to them yourself."

  "I already told you they won't tell me anything. Besides, I don't trust them." Bitterness filled her voice. "When Farley said you were looking for me, I figured it was a good time to find out what you knew."

  "Didn't Dru Ann tell you that I called?" Josie asked.

  Magnolia shook her head. "Dru Ann's out of town for her job. She's terrible about returning messages. Farley called last night and said you wanted to see me. He also said he warned you that it wasn't a good idea because I hate your guts." She bit into her lower lip. "I don't hate you. I also don't believe you killed him."

  "Any idea who did?" Or maybe…you?

  A tear rolled down Magnolia's cheek. "No, but whoever did needs to pay. I'll make sure of that."

  I tried to look at this from Magnolia's perspective, but it baffled me. "I don't understand. Damian used drugs, sold drugs, cheated on you, and hit you before he turned himself around." I was still doubtful about the last part. "Now, I'm not trying to sound judgmental, but how could you love someone who treated you like garbage?"

  "He never hit me," Magnolia said defensively. "Yeah, he had a bad habit, but was trying to clean his act up. Damian hadn't done any drugs since last summer. He was a changed man. It all started when that chick he knew fell overboard."

  This caught my attention. "The woman that Farley dated and Rachel was friends with?" It had to figure into Damian's death, but how? "Farley mentioned that his ex died in a boating accident last summer. Were you on the boat too?"

  "No." Magnolia sniffed. "Damian was there, but they weren't a couple. Farley dumped her right before the accident because he said she was a total crackhead. She lived in the same apartment building as Damian, which is how Farley
met her. He said she was never going to kick the habit."

  "Go on," I said quietly.

  "A few people saw Damian talking to her right before she fell over the side of the boat. After her body was found, all the passengers were questioned, but they put Damian through the ringer. The pigs were convinced he had something to do with her death but couldn't prove it. He took a couple of lie detector tests and passed them with flying colors. Finally, they decided she must have fallen, and that left Damian in the clear. The tramp had a ton of drugs in her system that day. People on the boat said she couldn't even walk a straight line. If you ask me, she was responsible for her own death."

  I wasn't so sure. "What boat are we talking about? The ferry that runs between Rochester and Canada?" I'd never been on it myself but knew they had daily excursions.

  "The Merry Ferry," Josie said.

  Magnolia snapped her fingers. "Yeah, that's the one. I haven't been on it since I was a kid."

  Someone else had told me a story about a girl falling into the water, but who? My mind was drawing a blank. I'd read how some women became very forgetful during their pregnancy, and I did feel like I was off my game lately. Damian's murder linked to this woman's death, but how? They'd both been addicts. Had she owed him money and he killed her because of it? Or maybe he'd owed the woman money. As far as I was concerned, this was too much of a coincidence for their deaths not to be linked.

  "What if Damian did kill her and someone wanted to get even with him for it?" I pressed. "Maybe Farley?"

  "Damian didn't kill her," Magnolia insisted, "and it wasn't Farley. He didn't kill Damian either. He loved him like a brother. It has to be Rachel."

  "But you can't be sure," Josie said.

  Magnolia glared at her. "Oh, but I am sure. She was jealous of Farley's ex, and she was angry at Damian for getting her hooked on drugs. It all makes sense. Damian may have been on the same boat, but he didn't kill her. There was no motive. Isn't that the term the pigs use?"

  "They're cops, not pigs. Maybe she owed Damian money for drugs," I offered.

  "Nuh-uh. Damian was too busy scrambling around trying to come up with ways to get his own stash. And he stopped using right after she was killed."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You're sure about this?"

  "Positive," she answered. "He was looking forward to getting off parole soon."

  If Magnolia was telling me the truth, I was even more confused. If Damian was no longer a drug user, why had someone taken him out? I'd assumed that a jealous girlfriend or ex had it in for him. Or perhaps a dealer for overdue payments. Had I gotten the motive wrong? I'd have to start from scratch, as if I were baking a batch of cookies.

  "If Damian wasn't using anymore," I said carefully, "why would he be a marked man? Could it have been a jilted ex-lover? Someone else he was seeing?"

  "A bitter girlfriend?" Josie suggested with sarcasm.

  Magnolia shot Josie an angry look and rose to her feet. "He wasn't seeing anyone else. I told you, he turned himself around last summer. And I wasn't the one who killed him. Guess it was a mistake to come here." She picked up her coat and marched toward the front door.

  "Hang on a second." I struggled to my feet, feeling pressure in my lower belly from the exertion. "Josie didn't mean anything by that. Don't you understand? Everyone who is tied to Damian will be considered a suspect until the real killer is found."

  "Yeah, I get that," she huffed. "But I still don't like being referred to as a killer. Look, I've got to run. Thanks for the cookies, but I need to get to work."

  "I'm glad you came by," I said. "If you think of anyone else who might have had it in for Damian, will you let me know?"

  "Sure." Magnolia placed a hand on the door.

  "Wait a second." I took a step toward her. "You never told me the name of the woman who died on the boat."

  Suspicion was etched into her face as she turned to face me. "Her name was Tatiana. Tatiana Richards."

  The bells over the door jingled with her departure, and at the same moment, alarm bells went off inside my head. Josie and I both stared at each other wide-eyed. We have a winner. Tatiana Richards was the woman that Freddie Price was writing about in my father's blog class.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "Holy cow." Josie echoed my thoughts. "The woman who died on the boat is the same one your father's student—Freddie—was talking about. And she's Farley's ex-girlfriend. What kind of a coincidence is that?"

  "It must relate to Damian's murder," I said.

  Mike came over as I pushed the button on my cell for my parents' landline. Dad answered on the second ring. "Hi, baby girl! Is my grandkid on the way yet?"

  "No, he's still in the same spot as yesterday. Hey, Dad, do you have a phone number for Freddie Price? I'd like to talk to him about his blog."

  My father sounded pleased. "Why don't you come to class next week? You can see everyone's blog firsthand and how they're progressing. Your mom will be helping with editing and could use a second set of eyes to—"

  "No," I interrupted. "I need to talk to him now. Can you give me his number? Or ask him to come down to the bakery and bring his laptop with him?"

  "Well, I don't know, Sal. I'm a pretty busy guy these days." I could picture my father with his phone in one hand, a genetti in the other, and his chest puffed out with pride. "As a matter of fact, I think I have an agent interested in my next book. Priorities, my girl, priorities."

  Good grief. Another book? Did the insanity ever end? Gianna and I had hoped that our lives might return to normal. "Dad, that's wonderful, but remember, I am letting you use the upstairs apartment for the class, so maybe you could manage to fit me into your schedule? Or give me Freddie's number, and I'll call him myself."

  "Well, that's true enough," my father admitted. "You've been great about the apartment. Next time, leave us all a fortune cookie before class, okay? Only good messages though. It will help keep up my students' momentum. I'll call Freddie and ask him to call you."

  "Please do it right away, Dad. This is very important. Thanks."

  "Get my grandkid here!" he bellowed into the phone before I clicked off.

  Mike placed his hands on my shoulders. "Sal, I've got a customer with a leak in their basement. They swear it's the boiler I installed last month. Personally, I don't think so, but I need to go and check it out. The house is only ten minutes away. We're supposed to get a snowstorm tonight, so they're practically begging me to come by. I promise you no more after this, princess. And I already warned them that if you go into labor, I'm out of there."

  I gave him a swift kiss. "It's okay. I'll stay here with Josie for the rest of the afternoon, and she can drive me home."

  He gave us both a pensive look. "Are you sure? And who's this Freddie guy you were talking to your father about—he's coming here? Is this some other psycho that I need to worry about?"

  I laughed. "No, he's one of my dad's students."

  Mike arched an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I should be worried then. If he's paying your father good money to teach him how to run some crazy death blog—"

  "How long do you think you'll be?" I interrupted.

  He shrugged. "Depends how bad the leak is. It shouldn't take more than a few hours though."

  "Don't worry. I'll be fine. After we close, I'll have dinner waiting for you."

  He kissed me again and tweaked my nose. "I have a feeling you'll be calling me before then. Today's the day. I'm betting on it."

  "I hope so." I smiled, then watched him run outside to his truck, blow me a kiss, and zoom off. Mike was floating on cloud nine these days. He was so excited about becoming a father. I was excited too and looking forward to bringing our child into the world with him by my side. After years of dreaming about this moment, it was here. So why was I nervous and scared? It didn't make sense. Damian's killer was still out there, and a strange feeling of foreboding had settled over me. My hands moved protectively to my belly, and I was rewarded with a vibration. What the—No, it was my phone b
eeping from the front pocket of my stretchy maternity pants. "Hello?"

  "Hi, Mrs. Donovan? This is Freddie Price from your dad's class. He said you wanted to talk to me."

  "Freddie, thanks so much for calling back. Would you have time to stop by my bakery this afternoon? It's about your blog."

  "What about it?" he asked, sounding concerned.

  "It's nothing bad," I assured him. "I'm curious if you have further information about the woman who fell off the boat last summer, Tatiana Richards? I'm not positive, but I think her death might be related to a man who was murdered the other night."

  "You mean that Damian guy? Cool," he breathed into the phone excitedly. "I mean, not cool that he died, of course, but that's, like, really fascinating."

  Kids these days. I rolled my eyes at the ceiling.

  Freddie prattled on. "I could do a massive story about this with your help. It might even make front page! I know Jerry Maroon would approve."

  That name made me want to retch. "Do you have any pictures from the day of the boat accident, or maybe a passenger list?"

  "No, I don't have a list. Jerry might know where to get one, but he'd want to know why I—"

  I didn't want to go that route. "There must have been camera footage on the boat that day—something to show that Tatiana had contact with Damian, the man who was murdered. You see, he was on the same boat that day, and I'm convinced their deaths are linked somehow. You have pictures that you were going to use on your blog, right? Do you have photos other than crime scene ones?"

  "Oh sure," Freddie said. "Jerry lent me some of his."

  Good old Jerry to the rescue. "But Jerry's not a photographer by trade. What was he doing taking pictures that day? Was he a passenger on the boat?"

  "No, but he was the first media guy to get there after the accident."

  Why was I not surprised? "Tell me what else you know about the boat accident, Freddie."

  "Well, Jerry's friend Ben Simms is a professional photographer. He was on board that day with a bridal group who were taking in the excursion before their bachelorette party. The bride-to-be wanted pictures on the water, so she hired Ben for the entire day. After Tatiana went overboard, someone saw her floating in the water and jumped in to save her. They got her back on the boat and headed for the shore, but I think she was already dead. Ben was snapping pictures when a cop saw and confiscated his camera."