Cruel Candy (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 1)

by Mildred Abbott

  We arrived a little past six thirty. Once again, I didn’t bother with a leash, so Watson followed me up the sidewalk and into the front door. Like before, the place was sleek and clean, the massive plastic ovals casting a soft glow through the place. Eddie was nowhere to be seen. No one was anywhere to be seen. Other than soft music, the place was silent.

  I nearly called out, but didn’t want to be rude, so I decided to wait. Instead of going to the edibles like we had before, I wandered around the other section of the shop, checking out the various paraphernalia, most of which I was clueless to what they were.

  The assortment of pipes was rather fascinating, ranging from simple clear glass to intricate ones shaped like dragons and fairies. My favorite was a combination of glass and metal, complete with wheels and dials, designed in a steampunk style. It looked more like a piece of art than a pipe. I’d have to ask Eddie to show me if the wheels and gadgets actually did anything or if they were just for show.

  As I perused the store, a tingle of anxiety began to gnaw at me. Something was off. “Eddie?”

  Watson flinched at the sudden sound of my voice. Strangely, it was even startling to me. Things were too quiet.

  Not pausing to consider, I stepped behind the counter and headed toward the door that to led into the back. “Eddie?”

  The lights were on but dim, revealing a small stockroom with a warehouse feel. Like the front of the shop, it was clean, modern, and organized. Still no movement or sound.

  “Eddie?”

  Watson whimpered and lowered his head. With a whine, he glanced up at me, then returned his attention to the ground. He headed off in the direction I’d just noticed. A door in the back wall. Watson reached it a few paces before me, paused with his nose pressed to the crack of the door, and let out a low growl.

  I reached for the door handle and hesitated. What was I doing? Playing the part of a fool, to be sure. There’d already been one murder in a dispensary; now here I was, in another one, alone.

  For some reason, whether it be stupidity or stubbornness, the idea of rushing back to the car and calling the police seemed weak. I gripped the door handle, turned it, and gave a push.

  The room was dark but a newly familiar odor hung in the air.

  The volume of Watson’s growl increased.

  Hand trembling, I felt beside the doorframe, found the light switch, and flicked it on.

  This time when I found a dead body, I didn’t gasp. Somehow, I’d expected it.

  Eddie lay facedown on the office floor. His feet were nearest me, and I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was Eddie, even without confirming his handlebar mustache. Although different, his clothes nearly matched what he’d worn before. If not on the floor, his tall, lean frame could almost have passed for being asleep, his arms and legs straight and relaxed. Blood matted the back of his head, and a large pool had grown around him. Some insane part of me demanded that I go to him and check to make sure he was dead.

  Maybe I didn’t gasp, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him either. There was nothing to check. I’d never seen a gunshot wound, but I was certain that was what I was looking at, and something about the blood made me feel like he’d been dead for a little while at least.

  Still growling, Watson slinked toward him, sniffing at the soles of Eddie’s shoes.

  I smacked my thigh. “No! Stay back, boy.” Once again, the volume of my words startled both of us, and I froze. Here I was being loud with a dead body at my feet. What if the killer was still around?

  No sooner had the thought flitted through my mind than I tossed it away. If there was anyone else here, I would’ve heard them while I was in the front room.

  Not taking the chance that Watson was going to get into one of his stubborn streaks, I scooped him into my arms, carried him to the car, and got inside. I dialed 911 and told them I would wait for them outside the shop.

  Poor Eddie. Poor, poor Eddie. The only person who seemed to be grieving about Opal was Lois. Somehow, I knew that wouldn’t be true for Eddie.

  In a crazy thought, a part of me was relieved he wouldn’t be getting into trouble from Branson. He wouldn’t know that I’d so easily thrown him under the bus. I shook my head at the thought. What a horrible notion.

  One thing was for sure, though. With Eddie’s death, it most definitely narrowed the motive. This didn’t have anything to do with dead husbands or owl feathers. I supposed it might still be connected to blackmail, but I couldn’t see Eddie being involved in that.

  Part of me wished Barry hadn’t been released on bail after all. Then, at least it would’ve been simple to prove he hadn’t committed this murder either.

  “I’m telling you, Sergeant Wexler couldn’t have been nicer.” Barry paused from where he was scrubbing the wall. He kept forgetting to wring out his sponge after dipping it into the sudsy water, and as a result, his pink-and-blue tie-dye shirt was nearly soaked from the mess running down his arm. “When he came by the house this morning, it was like he’d never truly thought I’d done it at all.”

  I didn’t really believe Branson had thought Barry killed Opal. Which was part of my frustration with him. He hadn’t come to the Green Munchies the night before, so I hadn’t been able to get a feel from him on what he was going to do about Barry.

  Mom looked over from where she was sponging the opposite wall, without halfway drowning herself. “Well, of course not. No one in their right mind would think you could hurt anyone. And he should be nice. All the trouble he put us through. I’m just glad we had an alibi for that drug dealer’s death in Lyons.”

  “His name was Eddie, Mom. He was a nice guy.” I still felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of Eddie. Though the notion made no sense. There was nothing I could’ve done. But still, while Katie and I had been gossiping over freshly baked lemon bars, Eddie was being shot.

  “Yes, he was.” Barry cocked an eyebrow my direction. “You thought so too, Fred?” At his feet, Watson pranced through a puddle of water, leaving footprints trailing behind him.

  “Watson!” Percival’s cry was a little shrill. “I just finished mopping.”

  “I told you to save mopping till last.” Gary shook a putty knife in Percival’s direction, then transferred the piece of candy he was sucking to the other cheek before speaking again. “I’m going to leave a mess behind after I scrape the putty off these patches when they’re dry. And I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

  “Fred said she didn’t care about the holes. They’re going to be covered by bookcases anyway.” Percival and Gary had been bickering since they arrived with my parents to the Cozy Corgi over an hour before.

  “Okay, you two. I don’t want to be responsible for the bookstore causing quarrels.” I refocused on Barry, more to avoid further sniping than any desire to continue to talk about Eddie. “Granted, I only met him that once, but Eddie seemed very sweet. And he absolutely loved you.”

  Mom let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, he should. Barry informed me just how frequent his trips to Lyons were and how extremely unfrugal they could be.”

  Barry muttered something under his breath.

  The four of them had insisted on doing a deep clean now we had the store back. The process made much easier by Branson and the police department. Before Mom could retort, I switched the conversation again. “So you feel like Branson—Sergeant Wexler truly believed your alibi?”

  Mom answered for them. “The four of us were having our monthly spades tournament yesterday. We were all together. So Barry has three alibis.”

  “I’m surprised he didn’t find that a little too convenient.” Was that irritation I was feeling? I thought so, but the term didn’t feel quite right.

  Percival grinned at me from where he followed Watson around with the mop. It seemed Watson was enjoying the game. “You can quit calling him Sergeant Wexler, darling. We all know the two of you are on a first-name basis. And now he’s not threatening to lock up your stepfather forever, I’m certain you have the
entire family’s blessing to take that hot man on a date!”

  Before I could protest, Barry joined in. “I think you should. He obviously likes you. He even asked about you this morning. Wanted to know if you were okay after discovering Eddie’s body.”

  “He did?”

  Barry nodded.

  And with that, I realized irritation hadn’t been the right word for what I was feeling. I was hurt. Branson knew I discovered Eddie’s body, he had to be aware I’d be worried about the police trying to pin a second murder on my stepfather, and he hadn’t so much as called.

  The realization made me want to hurry over and pick up Barry’s bucket of dirty water and dump it over my head. I had no business feeling hurt, or any other sentiment, for Branson Wexler. “Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he swings by here any minute to take you in for further questioning.”

  “He won’t. He was very clear that as far as he was concerned, the case against Barry was closed.” Mom dropped the sponge into her bucket, wiped her hands on her jeans, and crossed the room to pat my cheek. “It’s over, sweetie. And I can’t thank you enough for all you tried to do for Barry. You are most definitely your father’s daughter. But you can relax now. It really is done. Sergeant Wexler said he couldn’t give us details of course, but that Eddie’s murder had to be linked to Opal’s. They were both involved in some shady business and must’ve made a common enemy.” She dropped her hand and offered a sweet smile. “Percival is right. Branson is a very handsome man and obviously a very good cop, just like your father was. I think he would suit you.”

  I knew Mom was desperate for me to have another relationship. See me as happy as Barry’s daughters were with their husbands and children. As much as she was thrilled I was in Estes taking over my grandparents’ old cabin and opening the bookshop, I knew she didn’t believe I was really fine on my own. And as far as the case being closed….

  “I was thinking that way, too, last night. About Opal’s murder and Eddie’s being connected… not about Branson.” I cast a warning glance at Percival, who had lifted a finger toward me and looked on the verge of a sermon. “But the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. None of you saw the bodies. They were different, completely. Eddie was shot in the back of the head. His body was lying there like he was asleep. Opal was beaten with a rolling pin, for crying out loud. She was sprawled on the floor. If it was really drug-related, and if the same person killed her, why in the world would they use a rolling pin if they had a gun handy?”

  Four pairs of blank eyes stared back at me. Clearly the thought hadn’t occurred to any of them.

  Gary pulled a piece of candy out of his pocket, causing Watson to hurry over at the sound of unwrapping cellophane, and he popped it into his mouth before offering a comment. “That’s a good point, Fred. But you accomplished what you set out to do. Barry is no longer under suspicion. The police can handle it from here.” He smiled at me, his affection clear. “Your job now, is to turn this empty store into the most adorable and cozy of all bookshops the world has ever seen. That’s it.”

  How wonderful that sounded. If only it were that simple. “I hardly think I accomplished anything with Barry. I never cleared his name. It was just happenstance.”

  “You discovered Eddie.” Barry beamed at me. “That led to clearing me.”

  “That would’ve happened anyway. Someone would’ve found him. It didn’t have to be me.” I wished it hadn’t been. For whatever reason, after discovering Opal’s body, I had to make a choice to recall the scene. With Eddie, the sight of his lifeless body kept flashing behind my eyes.

  “Well, either way, it’s over. And we’re all safe and sound. I call that a success.” Mom gestured up the steps. “I’m glad you decided to get a refinisher here to do the floors before you have the bookcases installed. I think you should do upstairs too, while you’re at it, even though you’re not sure you want to extend the bookstore up there. At least that way it’s done, and you’ll have more options.”

  It took some effort to focus on the bookshop. “You’re probably right. Might as well do it all the first time, just in case.”

  “Good.” Mom clapped her hands. “Well then, Percival, I think we’re about done here after you get one more pass with the mop, if we can get Watson to sit still, that is. I say we all go home and have dinner. I have a huge pan of enchiladas in the fridge, just waiting to be popped in the oven.”

  “Oh sure, leave all the backbreaking work to the older brother. I see how it is.” Percival winked at Mom. “But you’ve got Grandma’s recipe for enchiladas, so you know I’ll do about anything for those.”

  Gary fished another piece of candy out of his pocket, but it slipped through his fingers and bounced across the floor. Watson scrambled for it.

  “Oh no you don’t!” To both of our surprises, I made it there first and snatched it from between his teeth. I grinned at him in satisfaction. “You’re going to have to up your game, little one.” I started to hand the candy to Gary, then stared at it, something trying desperately to click in my mind.

  “You okay, darling?” Gary pulled another from his pocket and held it out to me. “You can have a fresh one.”

  “No, thank you. It’s just that….” And then it snapped. Licorice. I looked up at Gary. “Where did you get this?”

  “We have about a billion of these back at Victoria Antlers.” He rolled his eyes. “Lois keeps bringing us a new basket of candy every single day. We’ve thrown everything away so far, except for these. These little hard licorice balls are the one thing the dear woman ever made that are any good. Maybe the only thing in my life that doesn’t have sugar which was worth eating.”

  I stared at the licorice. Lois….

  I refocused on Gary and then cast my gaze around at the rest of my family. “Did Opal make these too?”

  It was Barry who answered. “No. She didn’t make hard candy of any kind. Not even her edibles. It was one of my complaints about buying from her. You either had to consume them quickly or freeze them. Which is fine, but if you freeze things, then you have to plan ahead to defrost them. Things like these are much easier to just unwrap and pop in your mouth without”—his gaze darted guiltily to Mom—“people knowing.”

  My heart began drumming out a rocketing rhythm, and I held the candy like it was a piece of evidence in the courtroom. “This is what Watson was eating the morning I found Opal’s body. The one he got was from outside the kitchen door, right upstairs. And then there were others inside the kitchen as well.”

  I’d expected gasps of awe and understanding, but again, those four pairs of eyes stared at me expectantly, without any spark of comprehension.

  I shook the candy at them. “You said yourself Opal never made these. And Lois said that she had no idea Opal was making edibles or using this kitchen.” Still no reaction other than staring. I shook the candy again. “If Lois is the only one who makes these, then what were they doing in the kitchen when Opal was murdered?”

  Flames of understanding began to flicker, but just barely. Gary’s low voice was only just audible as he considered his words. “Could be just like what happened here. Maybe Opal had some in her pocket like I did and spilled them.”

  The others nodded in agreement. And I had to admit, it made sense. But not quite. “I got the impression Opal didn’t like Lois’s baking.” I was certain I wasn’t making that up, but I wasn’t sure if I’d actually heard someone say it or if it was just what little I’d seen of how Opal treated her sister.

  “I doubt she did. There’s not much to like. But maybe she liked these.” Gary shrugged again. “Trust me, it helps to have something you genuinely like to be able to brag about when Lois is around.”

  Mom came up and slipped her arm into mine. “Let the police handle it, honey. I’m sure everything is fine. Let’s wrap up here and go home to dinner.”

  Giving an excuse that I needed to stay and do a couple more things upstairs, which I didn’t thin
k anyone believed, I sent the family on their way with the promise that I would be at Mom’s shortly.

  I needed to think. Without other voices around.

  Though I couldn’t quite make sense of all the puzzle pieces, my gut told me I was right about Lois. I couldn’t truly picture her doing it, but now that the thought had entered my mind, I couldn’t quite not see her doing it either.

  But what to do?

  Watson followed me as I paced, and after a couple of circles around the shop, I realized we were leaving footprints in Percival’s mop job. I took a second to feel guilty about that, then wondered why we’d bothered with mopping at all. I was going to have the floors refinished.

  I shoved the thought away, not important and obviously not the point, and continued pacing. My family was wrong. Even if I couldn’t explain why. They just were. For whatever reason, it had been Lois. As soon as I saw that licorice, I knew. I just knew.

  But Mom was right about something. This was the police’s responsibility. What was I going to do? Trudge over to wherever she lived and do a citizen’s arrest? Call Katie and….

  Katie.

  If I was right, then Katie might have a lot more to worry about than Lois being codependent.

  Despite my surety, as I pulled out my cell to call Branson, I couldn’t help but feel foolish. The sensation increased as he answered the phone. “Fred, how are you?”

  It took me a second to respond as I realized he must’ve saved my number in his phone. I decided not to read into that. And again, not important and not the point. “Hear me out.” I opted to skip pleasantries so I wouldn’t lose my nerve. “I know who killed Opal.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. When he spoke, Branson seemed hesitant. “You do?”