I was confused. "Where did the pictures come from then?"
"Since they were digital, he had them backed up to the cloud and still had access to them. Jerry somehow managed to get on board and told me that Ben later gave him copies of the photos. I know Jerry gives him free advertising space in his column sometimes, so it may have been a trade-off."
What a racket that creep was running. "Do you have the photos in your possession?"
"Jerry let me make copies," he replied. "But I should probably tell him that somebody else wants to use them."
I did not want Jerry Maroon involved in the investigation. He'd already done more than enough by making me look like a killer. As far as I was concerned, he was also responsible for the lack of business at the bakery. The guy was a narcissistic jerk who didn't care whom he hurt in order to get his precious story. "Freddie, how about we make our own trade-off?"
"What do you mean, Mrs. Donovan?"
"If you send the pictures to my phone, I promise that I'll give you that exclusive interview you want for your blog." Heaven help me. I'd probably end up a laughingstock of the town, but it was better than people thinking I was a killer.
"Oh wow." He breathed into the phone. "That would be awesome. I can be home in ten minutes, and then I'll send them after I tell Jerry. He's going to be so proud of me. You know, Jerry told me that I had what it takes to be a reporter like him."
That was too bad. I was certain the kid had morals. "Well, see, that's part of the deal. You can't tell him you sent them to me." Jerry would be all over me like chicken pox. "I promise I won't publish them. I only want to see if there's any photographs of Tatiana and who she might have talked to on the boat."
"But I can't do that." He sounded upset. "Jerry would be furious."
Too bad for Mr. Moron—as my grandmother liked to call him. "I promise you that, if Jerry finds out, I will take the blame and talk to him myself. I have a few things I need to say to him anyway."
"Yes, you do." Josie was standing next to me, listening in.
I put a finger to my lips. "Freddie, you're not going to get into any trouble."
"Well…" He finally relented. "I guess that would be all right. It will take me a few minutes to get home and then sort through them, so give me close to an hour."
"Perfect. Like I said, I'm only interested in ones with people, not the sights. Especially Tatiana and who she might have been with."
"There's a few photos that I haven't looked at yet. Honestly, I'm not sure if Jerry did either. Ben just sent them to Jerry last week when I asked about them for my blog. If you need a close-up photo of Tatiana, I can send you one that ran in the paper the day after her death."
I glanced out the bay window while he was talking and caught the first fluffy white flakes descending from the sky. "Okay, I'll watch for the photos. Thanks for your help, Freddie."
His excited voice rivaled a little kid's. "Man, I'm going to be the talk of the town when I get that interview with you. I mean, you're like a legend in Colwestern."
It was nice that the kid thought I was popular, but he was sorely mistaken. The newspaper hadn't nicknamed my shop Sally's Shambles for nothing. "You've made my day, Freddie," I said and promptly clicked off.
"He's sending the pictures of Tatiana?" Josie asked. She was making sugar cookies in the shape of Christmas trees with miniature-size colorful gumdrops as ornaments. The rich, warm aroma emitting from the oven smelled of vanilla and sugar. Unable to resist, I grabbed a spoon and helped myself to some of the frosting, then smacked my lips together. Creamy, sweet, and strawberry. I glanced down at the tray Josie was working on. It was frosting similar to the icing she'd used on the leftover gingerbread cookies—only this was a thicker texture.
The gingerbread men with strawberry frosting. The cookies that nobody had wanted to buy.
Quickly, I took stock of what I knew about Damian's crime scene. Two gingerbread men had been found next to my cake server and Damian's body. There had been a dozen left in the case the day before the killer broke in and stole my server and cookies. What had happened to the rest of the gingerbread men? Magnolia said that Damian didn't even like gingerbread. Did his killer have a sweet tooth?
I scrunched my eyes shut and tried to think, but my level of concentration was off. There was a detail about the cookies I'd overlooked. What was it?
"You okay?" Josie asked.
"Fine." I washed the spoon and set it in the drying rack.
Josie was watching me intently. "What do you expect to find in the pictures? One of Tatiana talking to Damian? He was cleared by the cops, remember?"
"Yes, I'm aware of that. I'm not sure what I'll find," I said honestly. "Maybe Damian helped kill her—I don't know. Perhaps the so-called Head Elf I texted you about last night was on the boat—the same person who wanted Lyle and Leroy to kill Damian. Think about the scenario. Farley's ex-girlfriend supposedly falls, or was pushed, off a boat. Months later Damian—who'd known her, sold her drugs at one point, and was on the same excursion when she died—is murdered. It seems like a weird coincidence. And remember, Magnolia said that Damian started to clean up his drug act about the same time as the boating accident."
"Farley could have killed Damian," Josie said. "But what would his motive be? And he broke up with Tatiana—she didn't break up with him. Rachel also dated Damian, remember. Perhaps she did it to get even for the way he treated her. And don't count out Magnolia. Sorry, but I still don't trust her."
"Me either." My back was killing me as I sat down on the stool next to the worktable. "I'd like to go visit Rachel today but don't have the energy."
Josie narrowed her eyes. "If it's not Rachel, Farley, or Magnolia, who else is there that killed Damian?"
I shrugged. "No idea."
A muscle worked on her jawbone. "Sal, is there any chance it could be someone that you helped put behind bars? Think for a moment. Could any of those people have had a connection to Damian, gotten out of jail, and decided to come after you? It happened once before, in case you've forgotten."
No, I hadn't forgotten. Someone had tried to kill me right before my wedding as an act of revenge. I drew my eyebrows together and considered her question. "I don't think so. The only other person might be Lyle, but I don't see how since he was one of my carjackers."
"It was only a thought. I like to consider all the options." She pointed at my belly with the decorating tip in her hand. "You've dropped again, I can tell. Better be careful, girl. It could be any time now."
"Nope. I'm convinced this kid plans to stay in here forever." Not that I could blame him. Why would my poor child want to be subjected to all the craziness in my life? I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
The bells on the door came to life. Josie glanced into the storefront, her face full of hope, and then she frowned. "Oh. It's only Brian."
"Gee, thanks," he called out, sarcasm heavy in his tone. We walked out of the back room together to greet him. He watched me rubbing my back and smiled. "I passed your husband on the road and figured you might be here. Dedicated to the job—up to the very last minute."
Despite his joke, I sensed something was wrong. "Okay, spill it. What's going on?"
"Magnolia came into the station a little while ago," he said. "She demanded to know more details of Damian's murder and asked why you were privy to his information. What have you been telling her?"
"Oh, for goodness' sake. I didn't tell her anything, Brian. Why would I share information with someone we know is a suspect? Magnolia told me she didn't trust the police and wanted to know what I knew. She's fishing for information. While you're here, I have my own questions."
He folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not promising that I'll answer any but go ahead."
"Do you remember hearing about a woman who fell over the side of the Merry Ferry last summer?"
Doubt clouded his bright green eyes. "Why are you asking?"
"Because I believe it may have something to do with Damian's murder." Brian mig
ht think I was crazy, but I didn't care. "Damian was on that same boat trip. The woman's name was Tatiana Richards. She was also Farley's ex-girlfriend. A good friend of hers, Rachel Hedley, started dating Farley shortly before Tatiana died."
Brian's face became a brilliant shade of crimson. "Didn't I tell you to leave this alone? Go have your baby, and let us find Damian's killer, Sally. You've been cleared of possible charges, so please stay out of the investigation."
"I'll be in the freezer getting dough if you need me," Josie said and left the room. She'd heard this song and dance from Brian several times before and knew how it was going to end.
"Brian, I've been trying to stay out of it," I protested. "Somehow I keep getting pulled back in."
He sighed. "If you must know, yes, I do remember that case. It sounded pretty fishy to me at the time. I was away that week on vacation but did see photographs when I returned. If I recall correctly, the woman had a lot of drugs in her system, and they concluded she fell over the side. Do you think Damian killed her?"
"Maybe. If not, he might have seen it happen and chosen not to do anything about it. My question is, why was she killed? What was the motive?"
Brian raised his hand. "Hold off on any more investigating for a while. I'm going back to the station to see if I can get access to Tatiana's file. Normally I wouldn't dream of looking into a case that isn't mine, but I have a legit excuse since this may link to another murder. I'll call you if I find out anything."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
An hour passed, and there were still no pictures from Freddie. Impatience was my middle name today. Despite the pain in my lower back, I had a sudden burst of energy and decided to whip up a batch of chocolate-filled cookie cups to keep myself occupied.
Josie shook her head. "A true baker right up until delivery," she teased.
"Why hasn't Freddie sent the pictures yet?" I demanded as I placed the mini muffin tins into the oven.
"I don't know. Why do we have no customers?" Josie went into the front room and stared mournfully out the window. "It's almost five, Sal. I don't know if it's worth it to stay open until six."
"I'll stay until the cookie cups finish," I volunteered. "You go ahead. I'm sure I could get my father or grandmother to give me a ride home."
"No way. I'm not going to leave you here alone with a chance of you going into labor," Josie said. "Plus, Mike would kill me. I'm praying for a big avalanche of customers tomorrow. God, we need it. Say, what's going on with Gianna? Is this wedding still happening?"
I shrugged. "I'm always the last one to know anything. My mother tried to phone Gianna earlier, and I texted her as well, but she hasn't responded. It wouldn't surprise me if she took off. Hopefully, with Johnny and the baby," I quickly added. My sister had been under so much pressure between work, wedding, and motherhood that I feared she was going to have a nervous breakdown. My father's insane hearse idea might have pushed her over the edge. Secretly, I hoped that Gianna and Johnny would elope so that I didn't have to waddle down the aisle in a dress that was now large enough to cover the walls of my bedroom.
"Poor thing," Josie said sympathetically. "What about Mike? Is he coming to get you, or are you riding home with me?"
"He texted me a little while ago. The boiler is worse off than he thought. He doesn't think he'll be finished for another couple of hours."
The bakery's landline rang at the same time as Josie's ringtone, which was set to "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town." She stared at me sheepishly. "Sorry. Stupid choice. I should have changed it." She hurried into the kitchen to take her call while I answered the bakery's landline.
"Hey." A deep male voice, slightly familiar, responded to my greeting. "It's Farley. Is this Sally?"
My stomach muscles tightened. I was being silly. Even if Farley had killed Damian, he couldn't hurt me over the phone. "Hi, what's up?"
"Damian's funeral is tomorrow," he said quietly.
"On Christmas Eve?" How depressing.
"Yeah. The funeral home had an opening, so we jumped on it."
I hoped this wasn't an invitation to attend. "You're in charge of the details?"
"He doesn't have any family here," Farley said. "And that's what friends do for one another."
"What about Magnolia? She was his girlfriend."
An ominous silence followed. "Why are you asking me so many questions?"
I didn't know when to quit sometimes. "Sorry, but one more. Why are you calling me?"
"Oh, right. I need some cookies for the shindig after the funeral. You know—the gathering. About six dozen or so. We're not expecting a big crowd."
Gee, it was difficult to imagine why. Instantly I chided myself for my internal snark. Don't be like that, Sal. The man is dead, after all. An order was an order, so I grabbed a page from the notepad on the counter. Josie's voice, loud and distressed, drifted in from the back room. "Farley, can you hang on a second?" I put a hand over the phone. "Jos, what's wrong?"
Josie was already putting on her coat. "The baby fell and cut his lip. Rob thinks he's going to need stitches. I need to go and meet them at the emergency room. Do you want to come with me?" Jeremy was almost four, but everyone still regarded him as the baby.
Alarmed, I dropped my phone on the table. "Is he all right?"
She let out a loud sigh as she buttoned her coat. "I think so. Rob's a wreck though. Men! His mother is at home with the boys. I almost wish she'd taken the baby to the hospital instead. God knows I love Rob, but he doesn't have a clue sometimes."
"Okay, okay. It was an accident." I handed Josie her purse. "Everything will be fine."
"Do you want me to drop you home first?" Josie asked.
"No, I'll call my father to come get me after the cookies are done. Plus I've got an order on the phone I need to take. You go. I'll be fine."
She cast me a worried look. "Lock the front door after I leave."
"I will. Now go. I told you I'm all right."
Josie hurried out the back door, and I closed and locked it after her. I walked back to the phone slowly. The pain in my lower back had become worse in the last few minutes. Feeling drained, I sat down on the stool. Maybe I should call my father now. I glanced at the clock. It was after five and doubtful we'd get many more sales. The cookies only needed to bake a few more minutes.
"Sorry about that, Farley."
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Fine. What kind of cookies would you like?"
"Let's see…one dozen chocolate chip, one dozen of those kind with the strawberry jam in the middle."
"Thumbprint cookies," I said aloud as I wrote.
He coughed into the phone. "Yeah, right. And four dozen gingerbread men."
'Tis the season, even for funerals, I guess. "What time did you want to pick them up?"
"How about in five minutes?" he asked.
Uneasiness swept over me. "Um, no, I'm afraid not. We're closed but open at nine tomorrow. How's that sound?"
Farley paused. "Yeah, I guess that would be all right. Hey, did Magnolia come to see you?"
"Yes, she did." Was he looking for information now too?
"Did she tell you who she thinks killed Damian?"
My phone beeped, and I saw that I had another call coming in. Brian's number flashed across the screen. "Farley, I have to go. We can talk more tomorrow when you come in." Little did Farley know I wouldn't be alone. Josie and Mike would be with me. There would be no taking chances for me.
"Oh, I forgot one thing," Farley said. "All strawberry frosting on the gingerbread dudes. None of the white stuff."
"You mean icing. See you tomorrow." I hurriedly picked up Brian's call. "Hi. Are you still there?"
"Sally, I just pulled the file for Tatiana Richards's death and found some interesting information."
A delayed lightbulb clicked on in my brain. "Oh God," I whispered.
Brian's voice was anxious. "Sally? Is everything okay?"
Farley's words came back to me. "Brian, I think I know wh
o killed Damian and possibly Tatiana too."
"Farley," he said quietly.
"Yes. He just called to order cookies for Damian's service tomorrow. He asked for four dozen gingerbread with strawberry icing. I should have figured it out the other day when he was here. He ate two gingerbread men, but they had vanilla icing, and he was clearly disappointed while he ate them." I wanted to thunk my head against the wall. Who would have thought my cookies would hold the key to the killer's identity? "I should have put it together then."
"Don't beat yourself up. Would you like to know what I discovered from Tatiana's autopsy report?" he asked.
There was only one thing I could think of. "She was pregnant with Farley's child."
"You're close, but no cigar this time," Brian said. "The autopsy showed that she'd had an abortion only days before."
"Oh wow." The pieces in the puzzle had finally all come together. Either it had been Farley's baby and she hadn't told him, or she'd been sleeping around on him. "How come this information didn't come out sooner? If Jerry Maroon had known, he would have plastered it on all the billboards in Colwestern."
"Tatiana's mother asked that it not be divulged," Brian said. "Since her death was ruled an accident back then, we had no problem consenting to her request."
Another Braxton Hicks hit me, and I winced from the discomfort. "It was no accident, Brian. You and I both know that. Is there any way to identify the father?"
"No. If she'd still been pregnant at the time of the accident, tests could have determined the father. But not this way."
"Damian must have known that Farley killed her. Was Damian blackmailing him? Do you have enough information to arrest Farley?"
"I can bring him in for questioning again," Brian said, "and we'll see where it leads. Unfortunately, that's all I can do for now. Where are you?"
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