Foodie Files Cozy Mysteries Box Set

by Christine Zane Thomas

  “They did,” I acknowledged. “I witnessed the tail-end of it.”

  “Anyway,” Javier yawned, “I’d better be off. I’ll let you know when I get you on the list. The visiting hours are a pretty narrow window, so it might be a day or two before you can see him.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, it’s not a problem. I’d do anything for my running partner. I’ll start looking for half-marathons to sign up for tonight.”

  I smiled broadly—too broadly—and watched him go.

  It was Friday when Javier got everything set up for the two of us to go visit Blake. Luckily, the therapist’s office worked a half day on Fridays, so when I called, Suzi agreed to meet me out front at noon.

  She was waiting by the curb when I pulled up. “Dr. Gilmore says hi. And that he’s looking forward to your next visit.”

  “That sounds ominous. He probably thinks I’m butting into the police investigation like I did with Jessica Hayes.”

  “Oh, well, I wouldn’t know about that,” Suzi told me reassuringly. “I think he appreciates you taking the time to help me through this. He’s been offering me free counseling all week.”

  “Have you taken him up on it? He’s really good.”

  “I know he is. It’s just weird, him being my boss and all.” Suzi adjusted the seatbelt over her coat. It was a gloomy winter’s day.

  This kind of weather would usually make me want to stay at home and bundle up in blankets with Mister Netflix. But I’d spend the better part of the afternoon working on the article about George. I’d fired the finished draft off to Kinsey before leaving to pick Suzi up.

  “Do you think Blake will even see us?” she asked. She looked troubled. “I tried to go twice before, but they wouldn’t let me through the gate. I wasn’t on that list your friend helped us with. And Blake has a list of his own—I wasn’t on it.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see a familiar face,” I said, completely unsure if it was the truth. Honestly, I wondered how this conversation would go. Would he respond well to me being there? I wasn’t sure. I’d be a stranger, an outsider, to him. But my own curiosity kept my foot on the accelerator.

  We pulled up to a booth outside the parking lot. Security check one for the day. Both Suzi and I presented our driver’s licenses.

  “What’s your purpose for visiting today?” the guard asked.

  “We’re here to see Blake Wilson, sir,” I said meekly.

  He scribbled something down on a clipboard and handed our licenses back to me. “Follow the signs to the front entrance,” he said. Then he handed me a piece of paper from the back of the pad. “Here’s a list of prohibited items. Don’t have any of these on you when you go through security inside the building. Abide by anything a guard tells you and any and all posted placards.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The gate opened slowly to a parking lot half full. We both studied the list and made sure not to have any contraband, but there wasn’t anything on that list I’d ever have on my person—aside from food.

  The second security check included another identification check. We were patted down, and we entered in through a metal detector.

  “Third time’s the charm,” she whispered. Hopefully, this would be her third and final time here. If Blake was innocent, I wanted him out. If he wasn’t, well, I couldn’t see Suzi ever coming here again.

  Once into the waiting area, aptly enough, we waited. I tried not to make eye contact with any of the people I saw here, afraid that my eyes would betray me. I didn’t want to pass judgement. They were just people who had loved ones who’d found themselves in bad situations.

  “Suzanne Whelan and Allison Treadwell.” A guard waited for us at a door, like he was a nurse at a doctor’s office. He directed us through a hallway and to the room where we’d meet with Blake. The room was dark and dank. The floors needed to be swept. There was a table and chairs with no cushions. It was not an inviting set up.

  “Remember, when the inmate enters,” the guard said, “touches must be brief. Don't make any loud noises, or sudden movements. Enjoy your visit, ladies.”

  A few minutes later, Blake Wilson was escorted into our room. He resembled the lively guy from Bentley’s Estate in appearance only. His eyes were surrounded by heavy bags. His shoulders slumped.

  A brief hint of a smile tinged his lips when he saw Suzi, although seeing me there with her seemed to puzzle him.

  “Miss Suz,” he said, cutting off her already shortened nickname, “what are you doing here?” He offered her a hug—one she obliged.

  “I’m here to see you. Obviously.”

  “No, I know,” he said. “I just didn’t think you’d want to see me. Not after—”

  “It’s all right,” Suzi declared. “I don’t believe any of it. Not a word.”

  Suzi’s kind tone brightened Blake’s mood considerably. “Who is this?” he said, acknowledging me for the first real time. “I’ve already got an appointed lawyer. I like him all right.”

  Part of me was proud—I’d presented myself well enough to look like a lawyer. I’d have to leave my comfy jeans and old sweatshirts at home more often.

  “She’s not a lawyer,” Suzi told him. “This is Allison Treadwell. She’s a friend. She wants to help.”

  “She’s not a lawyer, but she wants to help.” Blake pursed his lips quizzically.

  “For a start,” Suzi said in my defense, “she helped me get in here today.”

  “That’s a pretty good start,” Blake admitted. “So, how can you help?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure just yet,” I told them both. “Like Suzi, I believe you might be innocent. I was at the party. I saw you and Mara beforehand.”

  “That bi—”

  “There’s no need for that language,” Suzi interrupted.

  I straightened my drooping posture, getting their attention back. “I guess I could ask you a few questions. Then we can go from there.”

  He wasn’t convinced I could help. If I were in his position, I’d be just wary. But answering my questions wouldn’t hurt anything. Blake shrugged in a non-apologetic way. “Sure,” he answered.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, racking my brain for a decent opening question. “Let’s start with the evidence. How did they find the nicotine in your car? Do you vape or whatever it’s called?”

  “Hell no,” Blake said adamantly. “My mom died of lung cancer, for God’s sake. That’s the sickest thing about this. I don’t know how that got into my car. But it wasn’t mine. I don’t even know where in the car they found it. They wouldn’t say.”

  “Your mom died of cancer?” I asked him. This was news to me. Suzi hadn’t told me how George’s wife had died.

  “Secondhand smoke. My grandfather smoked in the house when she was a kid. My dad smoked. Well, he did until she was diagnosed. That’s when he started running.”

  Suzi nodded along. She knew this story.

  “That’s terrible.” I was utterly shocked. It did seem a strange thing for a son to kill his father after an ordeal like that. “Were you on good terms with your dad after that?”

  “That’s the same thing the cops asked. They liked to think I would blame him for my mom’s death. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We both took her death hard, but we got closer after that. I never blamed him.”

  “Okay. Do you think someone planted the nicotine in your car?”

  “Obviously,” Blake scoffed. “But I drive a Honda Civic. Anyone with an ice pick could break into that thing. Half the time, I leave it unlocked.”

  “Right,” I said, remembering his car in the parking lot of Bentley’s. It was even there on the day he was arrested. My heart started to beat faster.

  “What happened the night of the party?” I asked him. “Why were you fighting with Mara?”

  “It’s stupid,” he admitted. “I was actually trying to protect Dad. I overheard him on the phone with her. He said she was jeopardizing the business. I
got a bit offensive, ya know, cause it’s part mine. Neither of ‘em would tell me what was going on though.”

  “Did you leave after that?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I never actually left the estate. I got some fresh air. Cooled off a bit—literally. Went down to the barn and checked on the horses. Then I sat and stared at the stars for a bit. When I got some texts about Dad dying, I went back up to the main house.”

  “Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts during the party?”

  “If I had an alibi,” he said starting to get frustrated, “do you think I’d be in here right now?”

  “No, I guess not,” I admitted. I got to thinking about the actual bottle they found. “Were your fingerprints on the bottle of nicotine?”

  “No, they weren’t,” he confirmed. “The cops said I probably just wiped it clean. But why would I leave it in my car if I was cleaning up after myself?”

  “Valid point,” I agreed. “So, you really don’t know what George and Mara had argued about? Did she want more stock in the company?”

  “Maybe.” He sounded defeated. “I wish I knew.”

  We sat there a moment and let everything sink in. Suzi wiped away a rogue tear that fell down her cheek.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I told him with as much confidence as I could muster.

  “I hope you can.”

  Suzi thanked me profusely as I dropped her back at Dr. Gilmore’s office. She went home for a much-needed weekend. For me, the day wasn’t yet over. I had a double date to get ready for, and I didn’t want to leave Luke stranded by himself with gooey-eyed Marcus and Kate for too long.

  18

  “What happened to you?” Kate hissed into my ear as I slid beside her in the booth. O’Grady’s Pub, the bar she’d chosen, was doing a booming Friday night business—per usual.

  The boys were up at the bar getting drinks. I saw Luke smile at something Marcus told the bartender. I hoped he wasn’t ordering a Shirley Temple.

  “What do you mean?” I asked Kate with a frown.

  “Scoot out.” She nearly shoved me out of the booth. Then she dragged me off toward the ladies room. “You're an absolute wreck,” she chastised me before the door had time to close behind us.

  The bathroom lighting was bright, exactly the opposite of the dimly red-lit bar. I glanced in the mirror above the sink. I saw no problems with my appearance whatsoever—ponytail, natural makeup, and a plaid button-down shirt with my favorite pair of jeans.

  “Just hold still and let me work my magic.” Kate pulled my ponytail holder out, then ran her fingers in my hair. She pulled a bit of hair from the front and did a quick braid. Then she tied it off with a clear band from her purse. It was much like she did before the Murder Mystery Party, only done in seconds and with other women flushing toilets and washing hands beside us.

  “Look this way.” Kate grabbed a cosmetic’s case from her purse. She added some rogue to my cheeks. The actual name of the color on the label made me blush just thinking it. “Here. You can put on the lipstick and mascara yourself.”

  I opened the lid to the lipstick and turned it a smidge. A berry shade of pink. I shook my head at the color but applied it anyway. With a shaky hand, I donned the mascara.

  The girl looking back in the mirror could’ve been my evil twin. It definitely wasn’t the same girl who’d walked into the bar a few minutes ago.

  “Just one more thing,” Kate said. She reached for my blouse and unbuttoned an extra two buttons. I made a brief attempt to complain, but she shushed me. “Na ah. Not tonight. Tonight, we’re not in our heads. We’re here.” She swirled her finger.

  “And here.” She pointed to my cleavage. Kate sure was trouble.

  Moments later, we emerged from the restroom and joined the guys at the booth. Kate slid in next to Marcus. There went my idea of boys’ and girls’ sides. But when Luke’s jaw dropped seeing me, I warmed up to the notion of cozying up next to him for the rest of the evening—even if I felt a little pressure coming from all sides after Kate’s kerfuffle in the bathroom.

  “You look great!” He went in for a kiss on the cheek, hugging my side similar to the way he did at Piggies. “What can I get for you from the bar?”

  It had been a tough day. Visiting Blake had done a number on me. But something strong sounded like a bad decision. “I’ll take a Pinot Grigio,” I said after a long pause to think it through.

  He was up at the bar ordering in a flash. When he came back, he handed it to me looking a lot like a golden retriever. I fought the urge to say, “good boy,” and went with a simple, “Thank you.”

  “You're very welcome.”

  Kate sensed my mood. She indicated for me to get out of my head as she and Marcus took over conversation.

  I took a few deep breaths and several swigs of the wine. Before I knew it, we were laughing and having a good time.

  Everyone shared a little bit about their work week. I shared about the new coffee barista. Kate shared about a think piece she was working on for next week. Thankfully, Marcus only shared a good story—one about rushing a kid with a broken leg to the hospital, and the kid telling them on the drive there that he wanted to be an ambulance driver just so he could drive as fast as he wanted.

  Luke had brought donuts to every doctor’s office he’d visited this week. He laughed maniacally at how many New Year’s resolutions he had wrecked so far this year. He had a sick since of humor that I highly approved of. Then Marcus joked that Luke, too, looked like he’d gained five pounds. The boys agreed to work it off the next morning at the gym.

  As my laughter ebbed, I swiped away the happy tears falling down my cheeks. This was exactly what I needed after such a stressful week.

  Behind us, the packed bar thumped with loud Irish music.

  Over the course of the evening, the sound of laughter and cheers at the basketball game on TV drowned out the hum of the bagpipes.

  My eyes lingered on the crowd underneath the TV. A few of the guys were vaguely familiar. My brain worked hard to place this group. Finally, it all clicked into place when one of them separated from the pack and headed for the men’s room.

  Javier.

  As soon as I saw him, I diverted my gaze away from the group of law enforcement. But when he found his way back to them, so, too, did my eyes.

  I did try to keep up with the conversation at our table, but Marcus and Luke had started talking about working out—again—for the umpteenth time. And not running, working out. Running I could deal with. But working out? Let’s just say that lifting heavy things wasn’t in my repertoire. I usually needed my mom’s help to get my mixer anywhere other than the cabinet where it was stored.

  So, every minute or so I would glance over in Javi’s direction, then subtly glance back. Or maybe not so subtly. Kate gave me the evil eye. She caught me, and she didn’t approve.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed to her. I tried to get my head back in the game.

  “Allie, have you gone on any long runs lately?” Kate tried to help too.

  “Yeah,” I said, exasperated. “Let me tell you about the run with the track club the other day.” I told them about the long run and the people I’d met to get my quotes for George’s article.

  “So, tomorrow’s paper, right?” Luke was enthusiastic to read my article.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  I glanced away. This time only for a second. But my gaze caught Javier's from across the room. And his eyes held mine. I smiled at him. He returned it with a smile of his own.

  “Right, Allie?” Kate asked.

  “Yeah,” I said as nonchalantly as was possible. I had no clue what I was agreeing with. “What was that, again?”

  “I was telling Luke that you'll give him some pointers. He thinks he wants to train for a half marathon.”

  “Oh, cool,” I said, remembering my conversation with Javier at The Java Hutt. Javier stood up and headed toward the bar. If I wanted to talk to him away from his police buddies, now was the time.


  “Yeah,” Luke said, “if you’d like to go for a run or something—I could really use some pointers.”

  “Sure,” I said, half-listening. “Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.” I smiled weakly at Kate and eased out of the booth.

  “Be quick,” she basically pleaded.

  “Javi!” I called, tapping him on the shoulder. I thought he might be getting another drink or paying his tab.

  He turned around and gave me a half-hearted smile, almost a grimace. “Hey, Allie,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

  “I just wanted to say thank you again, ya know, for helping with Suzi and Blake.”

  “I put your name on a list—one Blake could’ve done himself. No need to thank me. I wish I could do more.” His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze me.

  A woman arched her neck from behind him. Her hand felt for his shoulder. “Javi,” she said, “aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  He stepped back, and she came into focus. This woman needed no introduction. It was Clara Clearwater, Channel Seven’s lead reporter, and Kate’s bitter rival.

  All my breath left my lungs.

  “Sorry. Sorry.” Javier cringed. “Allie, this is my girlfriend, Clara. Clara, this is the food blogger I was telling you about, Allie Treadwell.”

  Girlfriend? How much had I missed in the last couple of months? I was sure he was single when he’d worked on Jessica’s case. I wondered how long or short-lived this relationship was.

  “It’s a pleasure,” Clara said. “Javi said you two are coffee shop friends.”

  The way she said it—friends—made me want to grind my teeth.

  “Clara was having a drink with a colleague, but he just left.”

  “And I’m not about to chum up with those fellas.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Javier smirked. “It’s all right. It's been a long day, and Brutus needs to be let out.”

  “Oh, you have a dog?” I asked.