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Dying For Danish A Lexy Baker Bakery #2

Page 8

by Dobbs, Leighann


  Jack sat across the table from Candice, who squirmed in her hard metal chair. Jack could see her eyes starting to fill with tears, her hands were clasped in her lap but he could see them trembling. She hung her head.

  “I...didn’t...kill...her.” She said softly.

  “I think the evidence says otherwise. If the DNA on your shoe matches Chastine’s, and the stones in your ring are from her brooch, then I’d say we have the case locked up.” Jack almost felt sorry for the girl, she didn’t seem like a killer, but then he’d met quite a few who didn’t. He suspected, however, that she didn’t act alone and he wanted to nail the accomplice too.

  Jack stood up. Putting his palms flat on the table he leaned across it, his face close to Candice’s. “We could go a lot easier on you if you tell us who helped you.”

  Candice looked up, he could see the fear in her eyes. She’s afraid of the other person.

  He started pacing around the room, trying to find an angle, a wedge he could use to get her to tell him the truth.

  “The thing is, we can’t figure out why you did it. If someone forced you to do it, or you were an unwitting accomplice, you might get off if you tell us who the other person was.” He spun around to see if she would take the bait. She remained silent, he could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to figure a way out. They were always like this at first, but it never worked out the way they hoped.

  A light tap on the door made Candice jump out of her seat.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jack opened the door a crack and slid out into the hall. On the other side, John Darling was leaning against the wall, leafing through a file.

  “Did you get the lab results back from the shoes?”

  “No, but I have Bronson Toliver in the other room. He seemed quite agitated when I told him we were also holding Candice. He denies having anything to do with killing Chastine.”

  Jack glanced through the small window in the doorway into the other interrogation room. Bronson sat straight backed in the chair, his finger tapping nervously on the top of the table.

  “Let’s see if I can get anything out of him,” Jack opened the door. He walked over to the table, letting the door slam behind him. Pulling out the chair opposite Bronson, he turned it around and straddled it, sitting facing Bronson with his arms leaning against the back of the chair.

  “We’ve looked at your files - we know you have a violent past, why don’t you just tell us what happened. What did you kill her with, and where is it?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Bronson said the words calmly, but the twitch in his jaw let Jack know he was anything but calm.

  Jack tried another tactic. “How did you get Candice to go along with you?”

  “Candice? What’s she got to do with it?”

  “We know you pawned the brooch and her ring has the same stone in it. Those stones are laser inscribed with a serial number. My guy is working on tracing the number right now - I bet it leads us straight back to Chastine’s brooch.” Jack saw a look of genuine surprise flicker in Bronson’s eyes.

  “That doesn’t prove either one of us murdered her.”

  “No, but we have a pair of shoes from Candice’s condo with blood all over them...when the tests come back from the lab proving it’s Chastine’s blood...well,” Jack shrugged, “that’s as good as a confession.”

  Jack stood up. Turning the chair back around, he dragged it to the table. He walked towards the door, then turned, looking straight at Bronson. “Once we have her nailed, we’ll offer her a deal to turn you in. If she does, her testimony along with your violent record and Blake’s testimony will put you away for a long time...even if we never do find the murder weapon.”

  Jack saw Bronson’s eyebrows knit together. “Blake’s testimony?”

  “Yes, according to Blake...” Jack took his notebook out and flipped through a few pages. “He saw you coming up the stairs at 2:30 in the morning. The time of death is listed as 2:15 so the timing would be perfect for you to kill her, hide the murder weapon, rip her brooch off her blouse and then skulk up the stairs to your room.”

  Bronson bolted out of his seat, Jack saw anger flash in his eyes. “Blake said that?”

  Jack made a show of looking at his notes again. “That’s what it says.”

  “That...little...liar. That’s not true, in fact, it was the other way around. I was in my room and saw him coming up the stairs at 2:30 in the morning.

  ***

  Jack leaned against the door in the hallway. So Bronson was trying to point the finger at Blake...interesting.

  He looked down at the folder in his hands - inside was everything he needed to nail Candice for the murder. Hopefully once he confronted her with it, she’d try to get a lighter sentence by telling him exactly what happened and they’d be able to use her testimony to prosecute Bronson.

  Jack opened the door to the room Candice was in. Stepping inside, he slapped the folder down on the table.

  “The DNA results from your shoes are in here,” He tapped his index finger on the folder, “guess what it says.”

  He saw Candice’s face go white.

  “Oh, and another interesting thing. We tracked down the serial number on the diamond - you know the one you ripped out of the brooch? It was originally purchased by a Bob McCafferty to be custom made into that brooch. We discovered Mr. McCafferty is the former fiancee of Chastine.” Jack saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes so he moved in for the kill.

  “I know you didn’t do it alone, so my offer is still open - tell me who was in on it with you, and I’ll see you get a reduced sentence. My money is on Bronson.” He saw Candice stiffen at Bronson’s name.

  “Why? Do you have some evidence on Bronson?”

  “We may have him tied to the murder weapon.” Jack knew his lie had hit it’s mark when he saw a look of confusion cross her face.

  She shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

  “No? He pawned the brooch and he was seen coming up the stairs shortly after the murder occurred. Where were you, still downstairs with the body?”

  “Who saw him?”

  “Blake.”

  Jack saw Candice’s face crumble, she sagged in her chair. A tear slipped down each cheek. Jack handed her a tissue.

  “Are you ready to talk yet? We have enough evidence to take this to court and you will go to jail unless you can clear yourself.”

  Candice nodded, sniffling into a tissue. “Bronson didn’t have anything to do with the murder...it was Blake.”

  ***

  Jack felt a jolt of shock. Blake? His eyes narrowed. He motioned at the two way mirror for John to come in with the appropriate papers to take a statement.

  “So, the three of you were in on it together?” He saw Candice’s eyes grow wide.

  “No!”

  Jack lifted his brows. “There’s certainly enough evidence to suggest it. Why don’t you tell us your side of the story?”

  John had settled in a chair at the end of the table, a tape recorder next to the paperwork in front of him. Jack heard the metallic click and hiss of the tape recorder starting up.

  Candice swiped at her eyes with the tissue. “I was at the house visiting Bronson that night.”

  “At two in the morning?” Jack’s brows knit together.

  He saw Candice’s cheeks turn pink. “Yes...we were lovers.”

  “Go on.”

  “We didn’t want anyone to know...we didn’t want any trouble because I was Chastine’s assistant. We hadn’t been dating very long, it was actually the first time I had been in his room at the mansion...”

  Jack nodded.

  “Anyway, I couldn’t stay all night, so I snuck down the back stairs to leave through the kitchen.”

  “What time was this?”

  “It was at 2:15 - I remember because it takes me fifteen minutes to get home from there and I remember thinking I could be in bed by 2:30.”

  “Only you didn’t get ho
me at 2:30, did you?”

  She shook her head. “No. Blake must have heard me coming down the stairs. When I came out in the kitchen the first thing I saw was Chastine’s body...and all that blood.” Jack saw her shiver.

  “And you just walked over it and went home? You didn’t scream or call for help?”

  “Like I said, Blake must have heard me. He grabbed me from behind when I walked out into the room. He covered my mouth before I even had a chance to scream.”

  “You expect us to believe that? Why wouldn’t you turn him in? And why would you protect him all this time, when you knew we had evidence against you?”

  Jack saw Candice’s eyes start to get moist again, he reached for more tissues but she waved him away. “It wasn’t like that. Blake threatened me. He kept the knife and said he would use it to frame me for the murder if I said anything.”

  “Sorry Candice, it just doesn’t add up. It would just be his word against yours in that case. I don’t see why you would keep quiet. Unless he had something else on you...like you were an accessory in the murder.”

  Candice looked down at her hands. “He did have something else on me. But it wasn’t that I helped him kill her.”

  Jack spread his hands. “Care to clue us in?”

  Candice looked up. “Bob McCafferty - the man who bought the diamond? He’s my father.”

  The room was silent. Now it was all starting to make sense.

  “Your father was engaged to Chastine back in Texas and she broke his heart, so you came here to kill her.”

  Candice shook her head. “No! Not to kill her, to get even with her. To break up her relationship with Xavier. My father is a bitter, beaten man now because of what she did to him - I wanted to make her suffer, to make sure she didn’t get to live happily ever after with anyone else’s millions. But I would never kill her. I’m no murderer.” she looked pleadingly at Jack. “You have to believe me.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “If she was engaged to your father, why didn’t she recognize you?”

  “We’d actually never met. I was overseas when she met my dad. By the time I got back to the states, she’d already dumped him.”

  “So where does Blake come in?”

  “Somehow he had found out who I really was. Why he wouldn’t have said anything before, I have no idea. He’s sneaky like that - always trying to dig up dirt on people so he can hold it against them at the right time.” Jack saw a look of disgust cross her face. “Anyway, he said I had the perfect motive for killing Chastine so if I told on him, he’d simply plant the weapon in my condo and point the finger at me.”

  “So you kept his dirty secret.”

  She looked down at her hands and nodded. “I didn’t want to go to jail for murder and I also didn’t want Bronson to find out I was lying to him about who I was.”

  “And the blood on your shoes?”

  Candice face turned beet red. “After I got over the shock of what I had discovered, I have to admit, I wasn’t too upset she was dead. I took a closer look - just to make sure. That’s when I noticed she was wearing the brooch Dad had given her. She always wore it - every day. It was like a big slap in the face to see it on her. So, I leaned over and ripped it off her blouse. I guess I must have stepped in some blood when I did.”

  Jack exchanged a look with John. Was she telling the truth or making up an elaborate lie to get away with murder?

  “And then what?” Jack prodded.

  “Nothing,” she said, “I ran out the back door and got away from there as fast as I could.”

  She looked up at Jack, pleadingly. “Bronson didn’t have anything to do with the murder - you have to let him go.”

  Jack motioned with his head for John to meet him out in the hall. He stood, looking down at Candice “Thanks for your statement, we’ll have to do some checking and talk to the DA about your involvement. For now, you can stay in here - I don’t think we need to put you in a cell...just yet.”

  He saw her face relax, more tears threatened to make an appearance. “Thank you,” she said.

  Jack opened the door for John, stepping out into the hall behind him.

  “What do you think?” John asked.

  “For all we know, she made up the whole story with Bronson to frame Blake. We need to bring him in and see if he changes his story or we can catch him in a lie.”

  “What about Bronson?”

  “We don’t have much to hold him on...let’s try to keep him as long as we can. He could be mixed up in this and I’d hate to see him get away. We’ll hold him until his lawyer starts screaming. In the mean time, let’s get the paperwork started to bring in Blake.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Isn’t it a wonderful day, Sprinkles?” Lexy stretched her arms up to the sun. Grabbing the end of Sprinkles leash, she headed down the path.

  The sun’s rays filtered through the tree trunks causing slices of light to permeate the woods. Like the day before, the friendly chirping of birds and the crunching of footsteps on dry leaves was all that could be heard.

  “Now where is your other leash?” Lexy asked out loud, keeping a close eye on the area to the left of the path. “Oh, there it is!”

  She let go of Sprinkle’s leash. Bending down, she worked the knots with her fingers, trying carefully not to break a nail. Glancing up she noticed the path was only about 50 feet away from the Toliver property where they were building the new cabana. She felt an icy shiver walk up her spine thinking of the murder which had happened there not even a week ago. She felt grateful Bronson was in custody so she wouldn’t have to worry about running into him.

  Finally working the leash free, she looked around for Sprinkles. Realizing with a start the dog had wandered off, she scanned the woods, then saw her, over by the property line, making her way towards the Toliver’s yard.

  Lexy started off towards her. She was about to call out to the little dog when a sudden movement in the Toliver’s yard caught her eye. It was Blake. What is he doing over there? He was over by the area where the fresh cement had just been poured. He was balancing on the edge of a form, looking down in.

  Sprinkles saw Blake too and gave an excited yip, taking off at a trot towards him. The fence dividing that part of of the yard from the nature preserve had been taken down for the construction allowing the dog to bound onto the Toliver’s property. The little dog was such a socialite, she’d run over to any stranger to get attention. I hope Blake likes dogs.

  Instead of happily greeting the dog like most people did, Blake jerked his head up at the noise. His eyes scanned the woods and met Lexy’s. Lexy’s stomach churned when she saw the look of malice in his eyes. That was not the flirty, fun Blake she knew.

  Then a sharp beam of sunlight glinting off something in his hand caught her eye. Lexy felt her heart turn to ice when she realized what it was - her seven inch serrated knife- the one that had killed Chastine.

  ***

  “What are you doing?” Lexy heard the words come out of her mouth before she could think better of saying them.

  “You!” He pointed at her with the knife. “Nosy bitch...are you spying on me?”

  “No...” Lexy shook her head. Should she try to play nice? It was too late to pretend she didn’t see the knife. Lexy’s head swam, adrenalin coursed through her body . Her first instinct was to turn and run, but Sprinkles was over near Blake. She needed to grab the dog and get the hell out of there.

  “Sprinkles, come!” Her voice came out an octave higher than usual, giving away the panic she felt in her chest.

  A second later, she realized she shouldn’t have called to the dog. Blake turned, looking at Sprinkles, then jumped to the patio and scooped the dog up, holding the knife at her throat.

  “You wouldn’t want me to hurt your dog, would you?”

  Lexy shook her head, icy fingers squeezed her heart.

  “Then come over here.”

  Lexy felt frozen in place, her instincts were screaming at her to run, but she couldn’t l
et him hurt Sprinkles. She forced her legs to move.

  He kept talking as she got closer. “You know, Lexy, I really liked you. It’s too bad you had to keep sticking your nose into this. Coming over and poking around. Combing the dumpster.”

  Lexy’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Yes, that was me watching you from the house. I know you were looking for this,” he raised the knife up, “but I had it hidden well.”

  Lexy had picked her way over to him. She was standing about five feet away.

  “Closer!” He pressed the knife into Sprinkles. The dog gave a yelp which made Lexy’s stomach clench.

  “Please don’t hurt her!” Lexy moved closer to him.

  “I won’t hurt her if you do what I say.” He grabbed her arm roughly, shoving her through the door to the cabana.

  He kicked the door shut then spun her around. “I’m going to regret having to do this,” he said, tracing the tip of the knife from the top of her throat all the way down her chest stopping just where her bra started. “Everything would have been ok, if you had just minded our own business. We might have even had some fun together.” He released her arm and she stumbled backwards.

  “You killed Chastine?”

  Blake snorted. “Yep. When they brought Candice and Bronson in today, I had the perfect plan to frame them, but now you’ve put a kink in the plan. Regrettably, I will have to straighten out that kink.” He lifted the knife again.

  “But why?” Lexy hoped if she kept him talking it would buy her some time to think of a way to get free.

  Blake walked over to the corner. Bending down, he came up with a length of thick rope in one hand while still holding Sprinkles in the other.

  He turned and walked towards Lexy. “You wanna know why? I guess I can tell you since you won’t be around to tell anyone else.” He hefted the rope in one hand, then put Sprinkles down, still holding the end of her leash. The little dog tugged at the end to try to get to Lexy. Lexy winced as Blake roughly jerked her back.

  “Chastine and I were lovers...before she took up with Dad. Once she found out how much money he had, she went after him like a greyhound after a rabbit. The only problem was, she still wanted me on the side. Normally, I don’t care how many other guys a woman has...but when the other guy is your own father, well, that’s too disgusting even for me.” He made a face.

 

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