Dough Knot Murder

by CeeCee James

  She was also muddled by the feeling that something wasn’t right. The voice she’d heard hadn’t sounded like either one of those men. “Hi Troy. Are either of you hungry?”

  “No, ma’am. Stuffed,” Troy answered. “We ate on the way here.”

  Cecelia frowned. That didn’t make any sense to her. It was Sunday afternoon, and in this old-fashioned town, most of the restaurants that had any food worth eating were packed full. You could hardly find a seat for a corndog around here if you didn’t show up early enough. “Was it hard to get a table?”

  “We walked right in. Must have been our lucky day.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I’d love to have one of those doughnuts I’m smelling though.”

  More footsteps rattled against the hardwood floors.

  It was Oscar.

  Cecelia smiled. Somehow, seeing Oscar always made everything feel alright. “Long time no see, handsome. Did you find everything you were looking for?”

  “Indeed I have. And then some. Could I ask you to please call Frank to return, please?” He smiled, but the sentiment didn’t reach his eyes.

  Cecelia’s mouth dropped open. Something about his tone unnerved her.

  “Just see if he can pop back here,” Oscar murmured again. Then he walked back into the living room where he helped himself to some coffee from the refreshment station.

  A moment later both Troy and Roy, both eating doughnuts, meandered after him. Cecelia went for the phone.

  “Gentlemen, what are your plans for today?” Oscar asked as he settled into his favorite armchair. It squeaked in its comforting way.

  Roy walked over to the fireplace and nudged one of the nativity figurines on the mantle with a nail-chewed finger. “Not sure. Looks like a bad snowstorm is headed our way,” he said. He shoved the rest of the doughnut in his mouth and picked up an angel. He started to toss it in the air when Oscar cleared his throat loudly. Roy glanced over at him before shrugging and putting it back.

  Cecelia soon joined the three of them and gave Oscar a discreet nod.

  “The news is calling for eight inches. We might be snowed in,” responded Troy.

  “Highway shuts down with that much snow,” Oscar noted.

  Just then, Cecelia noticed her nativity was out of order and walked over to straighten it. Then she moved to the buffet to tidy things up.

  There was clattering down the stairs, making everyone look up. It was Bobby, wearing a winter jacket and hat. He carried two suitcases and set them on the foyer’s floor with a huff.

  “Hey, guys!” Bobby said. “Glad to see you all together so we can say goodbye. I guess Brenda and I are on our way.”

  “Leaving so soon?” Oscar asked curiously.

  Cecelia noted that, oddly, he didn’t seem surprised.

  “Yeah. I guess we decided to try to make it to her parents’ house for Christmas after all. Especially with this crazy storm rolling in. Have you all heard about it?”

  Before anyone could answer, a sharp squealing made everyone turn their heads.

  “So, I suppose I’ll be checking out now, myself,” Steve said, pushing his wheelchair into the foyer. He pulled the blanket that covered his legs up a little further. “Do you think someone could help me with my bags?”

  Oscar slowly stood up—making the chair’s spring squeak again—and glanced down the hall toward Steve’s room. There was a pair of suitcases sitting outside the door. “Were you able to get everything packed, Steve? Even Mike’s stuff?”

  Steve cleared his throat. “Yeah, everything is packed. I double checked, but we didn’t bring much.”

  “Well that must have been hard to do. I’m sorry about that, sir,” Oscar offered sympathetically.

  Steve looked down at the blanket, but not before they caught that he was misty-eyed. “I can’t thank everyone enough for what you’ve done for me. But you know I’ve been feeling sick. And everything else, I really need to get home. I’m sure I will recover better there. My ride will be here any minute to take me to the airport.”

  “Of course. Sometimes home is the best place.” Oscar nodded his head. “And do you have someone meeting you on the other side?”

  Steve nodded. “My brother will be there.”

  Brenda came down the stairs now with a hat on her head and a small valise in her hand. “Hi, everybody!” She smiled. And then to Bobby, “Did you check us out yet?”

  “Listen, do me a favor. Why don’t you two hang on for a second. There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Oscar beckoned. “You too, Steve. Humor me, if you would. Join us in the living room. I have something I’ve been meaning to say.” Oscar waved his hand through the living room entryway.

  Steve paused, his eyebrows lifting. He glanced at Oscar inquisitively, but he went ahead and pushed into the room. Brenda and Bobby left their suitcases and followed.

  “What is this, some kind of family meeting?” Bobby joked as he spotted Roy and Troy. They lifted a hand in greeting while Bobby took off his hat.

  “Did someone say family meeting?” called Sarah from the top of the stairs.

  “Ah, Sarah! Just the person I was looking for,” Oscar said. “Can you join us for just a moment?” He sank back into his chair and glanced around at the group. “I know there is a storm coming, and I won’t keep you long. Cecelia, can we turn the Christmas music down a notch? And do you have any of those wonderful homemade gingersnaps left from last night? Would it be possible to bring out a plate? You know how I love them.”

  Cecelia obligingly turned down the music, and then disappeared into the kitchen. She soon bustled back with a plate of cookies which she passed around. As she did so, a familiar face poked through the door.

  It was Frank.

  “Hey, everybody,” the policeman said. He made no mention of the canceled lunch date with Georgie.

  “Ahh, just the man I wanted to see,” said Oscar, with a crunch on his cookie. “Try these! They are wonderful!”

  Frank sat down like he’d been expected, after first grabbing a cookie. He crossed his legs. “Mm, delicious. How’s everyone today?”

  “Fine, fine,” Oscar said. “These lovely people are about to check out of the bed-and-breakfast. They are humoring me right now. I did want to clear up a thing or two before we all went our separate ways.”

  “And what’s that?” Bobby asked from over by the Christmas tree. His forehead rumpled in a display of faint annoyance.

  “Yes, yes. Let’s get right to the point. After all, everyone is busy. You all have lives. No need to beat around the bush.” Oscar swiveled in the chair and pointed to Steve. “You, sir, can walk.”

  Chapter 9

  The room deadened with silence. It was so quiet, a mouse couldn’t have even snuck by without being heard.

  No one moved, as if not wanting to be the first to look at Steve.

  After a few shocked seconds, Steve gave a blustering laugh. “What are you talking about? I think that’s rather unkind—”

  “Oscar,” Cecelia warned. A flush crept up her cheeks.

  “Well, I’d sure like to hear more.” Frank leaned forward earnestly, as a relaxed, open expression stretched across his face. He shrugged his shoulder back, causing his jacket to open and the badge in his chest to twinkle under the blinking Christmas lights. Nodding encouragingly, he took another bite of the cookie.

  Oscar pulled out a pen from his pocket. He turned it around in his hands as everyone stared. “It started with this. Ordinary little thing, right?”

  No one answered. It seemed like a trick question. Oscar continued, “I noticed the pen the day Mike died, when we were about to enter your room to check on you. Funny little thing, it was tucked behind a picture frame.”

  He studied it for a moment before holding it out to give everyone a closer examination. It was plain looking, a simple ballpoint pen with a silver click top. Everyone leaned back. No one was impressed.

  Oscar pressed the top a few times, making the noticeable clicks. His nostrils flared
as he exhaled, and he set it on the table.

  Frank picked it up, curiously. He turned it over his hands before holding it up to the light and peering down the length. “It’s a video camera,” he announced.

  The news caused a palatable reaction. People gasped, sucked in their breath, and murmured. Oscar held out his hand to ask for silence.

  “It is indeed,” he said. “Pointed in such a way as to see down the length of the hallway. It would catch anyone approaching the room. Your room.” Oscar bobbed his head in Steve’s direction.

  Everyone turned to look at him, except Frank. He kept his eyes locked onto Oscar like one does on a magician to catch the trick.

  Oscar continued, “The first time I saw it, I purposely turned the picture frame so that it would cover the lens. I didn’t have time to examine it then, you see. I only suspected. I figured if I could change its position with no recourse, then it was a simple pen. But when I returned, I saw it had been moved back to its prime viewing spot again.

  “When I saw that it had been moved, then I knew. Which led me to wonder, why would anyone care to see who was coming down the hall? It wouldn’t do any of the other guests any good. No. The only people it would benefit would be Mike and Steve. And with Mike dead, and the pen moved, it had to be Steve.”

  “This is preposterous,” Steve stammered. “You guys can’t believe him! I don’t care what he says! You all know me. You know I can’t walk.”

  “Indeed,” Oscar said, and continued. “However, my second curious thought happened with a prescription bottle. Yours. I noticed it on the floor the day of Mike’s death. I thought it was a danger to you on the floor, inaccessible. I specifically put it on top of the dresser to keep it safe. In fact, I positioned it in such a way that it couldn’t be knocked down. It was far enough back that if Steve needed it, he would have to ask someone to bring it to him. Yet the very next time I was in the room, the bottle rested on the table beside the bed where Steve was resting. I asked Steve if anyone had been in his room and he himself admitted that no one had entered but Frank.”

  At this point, Oscar glanced at Frank. “And you didn’t move the bottle. Remember you yourself mentioned it was only to help him dress and nothing more.”

  “Yes, that’s right. That’s exactly what happened.” The police officer nodded.

  “My third curiosity came when I noticed a pair of shoes by the bed, hard-soled business shoes. Quite a bit bigger than my own feet. Although, I myself have small feet, so that might not be so unique. However, the shoes were the same size as yours.” He stared pointedly at Steve’s feet.

  “How do you know they weren’t Mike’s?” Susan asked.

  “A very good question. However, Mike was a short man. Maybe my height. And I unfortunately was a witness to his shoe size when he died on my porch. They were my size.”

  “So what?” Frank blustered. “I wear shoes. Do you have something against that? Just because I can’t walk that doesn’t make it a crime.”

  “No, no. Absolutely not. You are allowed to wear shoes, and I assumed you would. But what you are leaving out is that you were walking a lot. In fact, you did so much pacing that it disturbed Sarah upstairs. She heard your steps marching across the floor, clacking loudly. Like business shoes would do, and not like Mike’s tennis shoes.”

  Steve opened his mouth to protest. He caught Oscar’s eye and shut it again.

  Oscar glanced down as if in humility. Cecelia immediately raised an eyebrow. She knew that Oscar was many things, and many of them wonderful, but being humble was not one of them.

  “Of course,” Oscar breathed out, “like you might say, this is all circumstantial evidence. But don’t worry, it’s not all about you, Steve.” Oscar smiled in a camaraderie way. He nodded slowly and turned his attention to the other guests. “There are other interesting parts to this story. Very interesting. One of those things was centered around the time you two showed up yesterday.” This time Oscar zeroed in on Brenda and Bobby. They both visibly flinched. “Coincidentally enough, from the moment Mike was discovered, you both were here at the house. Too early for check-in, yet you both made yourselves at home. And then there’s you two.” He swiveled his head quickly and directed the comment to the business men. “Also both here despite a day of scheduled meetings. Odd. So odd.”

  There was some throat clearing and a few suspicious glances shot at one another, but for the most part, the group kept very quiet. Fear permeated the room with a sour scent.

  Except for Steve. He impatiently plucked at the blanket covering his legs. “This is ridiculous. Are you done with this preposterous song-and-dance? I’m sure my car has arrived, and I have a plane to catch.”

  “Of course. I don’t want to keep you. We are all busy people, with places to go and things to do. There is, however, only one more thing.” Oscar cleared his throat. “Cecelia, my love, can you get me a glass of water?”

  She nodded and hurried out.

  “Now, as I was saying, we have these two sets of guests who are here at the exact time as our poor fellow guest is killed. The coroner did confirm that he was murdered, by the way. Poisoned.”

  Frank nodded.

  Cecelia brought the glass, and Oscar took a small sip. He wiped his mouth. “Thank you, my dear. I seemed to have possibly caught a touch of what Steve has. A cold, you said? Scratchy throat?”

  Steve glowered at him, instead of answering.

  Unperturbed, Oscar continued, “Now where was I? Oh, yes. As I was saying, both Roy and Troy were purportedly here to attend a business conference. Last night I made a few phone calls to the hotels in town. I am friends with a few of the concierges. Strangely enough, no one knew what I was talking about. It appears that those meetings never existed.”

  Troy and Roy glanced guiltily at each other.

  “Of course, this was not of a great surprise since both of you were seen at a bar during the meeting time in question. It was by Miss Brenda, here.” Oscar dipped his glass of water in her direction.

  Brenda squirmed like a ruffled chicken at the sudden attention. She quickly blurted, “I wasn’t ratting you guys out. I made a simple comment to Cecelia. How was I to know?”

  Oscar nodded at Brenda. “Of course. An innocent comment. I can see how that could happen. Where did you two say you were going after this?”

  They glanced at each other. “Her mother’s house,” answered Bobby.

  “Interesting. And what state is that?” Oscar smiled with an irritatingly patient expression relaxing the wrinkles around his eyes, similar to a parent questioning a three-year-old.

  “We, uh…” began Bobby

  “Tennessee,” Brenda spouted.

  “Tennessee, very interesting.” Oscar pulled out a paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. Slowly, he unfolded it. “And not the state I was expecting you to say. According to your hotel application, Miss Brenda, you are using a company card?”

  Her mouth opened and shut. One of her fingers immediately started to pick her thumb cuticle.

  Oscar eyed her through his thick glasses before clearing his throat. He glanced down to read, “The company being BlueMark Liability Insurance, located in Oregon.”

  She glanced at Bobby and swallowed fast. Bobby rolled his eyes.

  “A few minutes ago, I made a quick phone call to the company. The head of operations was happy to reveal that you are both fraud investigators. Highly recommended, in fact. Is that true?”

  Brenda’s face paled. She glanced at Steve and then back down at her hands. Steve’s gaze became more focused and defiant.

  Oscar continued, his voice low and mild. “Very resourceful, I believe your supervisor said. So my assumption is that you will be following Steve wherever he may be going. Obviously as an undercover operation, perhaps. Although it seems I may have blown that.”

  Neither one of them responded. The air was so thick with tension it felt stagnate.

  Oscar peered through the bottom of his glasses as he continued to read. “Now
on to Roy and Troy. It seems you are here under an investigative role yourselves. What are the chances? Although you aren’t both aren’t here in quite the same legal capacity. You are looking into getting repayment?”

  “What are you talking about?” Roy sneered.

  Oscar sighed slowly, his nostrils flaring. “I’m guessing your boss hooked Steve and Mike up with false identities, along with a false accident report, doctors reports, etcetera. They were supposed to split the money with you. Yet it seems they chose to vanish, instead.”

  They blinked at him.

  Sighing, he continued. “They took off.”

  “We don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Roy with a shrug.

  Oscar pulled out a ratty napkin. Breathing heavily, he leaned forward and flattened it out on the coffee table. On the front, half covered with barbecue sauce, was a very bold red bull moniker.

  “Recognize that?” Oscar asked Frank.

  Frank leaned to take a look. He flipped it over using the camera pen. Written on the back was directions to this bed-and-breakfast.

  “This morning my dog got loose. Something or someone knocked over a trash can. My bet is on Sparky the golden retriever. At any rate, my dog got into it before I could stop her. I was frustrated, let me tell you. Especially when she ran past me and hid under the bed with her treasure. It seems she found some of your old ribs wrapped in something else. This.” He relaxed against the back of the seat. “It’s from a known mafia meeting house in Brooklyn. A house that’s very well known in producing identity theft documents.”

  “You can’t link that to me,” said Roy. “That restaurant is packed every night. Everyone goes there to eat, even the mayor.”

  “Are you sure there are no links?” Oscar raised an eyebrow, but the man stared him down. Neither one seemed to be willing to back down. Frank got up and walked out of the room.