A Case for the Cookie Baker

by Candace Havens

  I smiled and patted her hand. “I’ll have to tell Shannon thanks for that.” Of course, knowing her and the rest of the gang, they were listening from the top of the stairs. There was nothing I could do about that now.

  “Tell me why you think you could have done it, and I’ll explain why I don’t think you did.”

  Her brows came together in surprise. “You don’t?”

  “Nope. But you explain to me what these flashes are. Try closing your eyes again and piece together those moments.”

  Her hand reached out, like she was going through the actions. “I open the freezer door and I have the jar of oil we use. It’s a special blend that keeps the dough from drying out. But I hear his voice. ‘I’m gonna get you, girl.’” She said it roughly, imitating a man’s voice. Her body shook from head to toe, as if she were truly experiencing it in the moment.

  I squeezed her hand. “You’re safe now. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’m right here with you,” I said softly. Part of me was worried that this young girl needed a very real therapist to lead her through this. I had no idea if I was doing more harm than good. I prayed I was helping.

  “I screamed loud. When I turned, he was smiling and then he seemed surprised. ‘You’re not Lizzie.’

  ‘Why do you want to hurt Lizzie!’ I screamed at him. I needed to find a weapon. There was no way I’d let him hurt Lizzie. She’s my boss but also my best friend. I turned out of his arms and went for the freezer. There are big bowls stored in there and they are heavy.

  “There’s another voice yelling and this time it isn’t me. Maybe they want to hurt Lizzie, too. But when I go to get a big bowl, I see the iron frying pan. And then I’m falling backward. I feel myself going down and then it’s dark.”

  She opened her eyes. “He was surprised but I don’t think he meant to hurt me,” she said. “I feel awful. Maybe the frying pan is a metaphor or something. I watched a bunch of serial killer shows the last few days and that can happen.”

  I would have made fun of her television viewing habits, but TV and books were how I’d learned my detective skills—such as they are.

  “Okay, a couple of things. Your fingerprints weren’t on the frying pan,” I said. “It had been wiped clean. So, someone did that after they murdered him. Since you were most likely out cold in the freezer, no pun intended, you didn’t do that. Do you remember anything about Mrs. Whedon being there?”

  She closed her eyes again. “When I first woke up, someone was on top of me. It was dark and cold, and I had no idea where I was, or how I got there. I was having trouble breathing because of the person on top of me.

  “When you opened the freezer door, the light came on, and you know the rest. How is Mrs. Whedon? I heard the deputies talking at the bakery that some woman got in her room.”

  This sweet girl had been through so much. She was just out of high school and going to college in the fall. She had her whole life in front of her.

  “She’s doing well, though I need her to wake up. I’ll feel better about life then. Becky, you didn’t hurt anyone. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m grateful you weren’t hurt worse than the bump on the head.”

  “Me too. I feel like a hundred years of life have happened this last week.”

  I smiled. “I just said the same sort of thing to my friends.”

  “I’ve been in this horrible daze. When I’m at work, I’m so busy I don’t have time to think about it. But when I go back to my apartment, it’s all I can think about. I’m grateful Lizzie insisted I stay with her until all of this is over. She keeps busy all the time, trying out new recipes.

  “I’ve been worried the last few days that I killed her friend. And here I am, staying in her house. It got to me today.”

  “How is she doing? I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  “She’s playing a lot of songs from the nineties and I’ve caught her crying a couple of times. It ripped my soul open when the flashes started. She’s so sad and it doesn’t feel right. A week ago, she was the happiest person I ever met. If I hurt her friend, she’d never forgive me.”

  “You didn’t hurt anyone.” At least, I didn’t think so now. “You’ve been so brave this week. All of that happened to you, and you went back to work. My heart hurts for you that you’ve been holding on to all of this. I wish you’d come to me sooner. If you remember anything else, I’m here for you.”

  Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. “I feel better. Like, so much.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I have two favors to ask. If that’s okay.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “One, do I need to go to the police and tell them what I remembered? Or is that something you could tell your brother for me?”

  I chewed on my lip. “I’ll let him know, but you will probably have to go in and make a statement. It’s important for them to have all of the facts when they make a case against the person who did all of this. What’s the second thing?”

  “I know you guys invited me to the girls’ night thingy, but I’d really like to go home to the ranch. Riding is how I get out of my head.”

  I didn’t blame her. “Again, we’ll need to talk to Greg. If you want, I can see if he’s available now.”

  She went white again.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be here with you. And I give him a hard time because he’s my brother, but he’s very fair and kind. It’s what makes him a great sheriff. But if you mention I said that I’ll never speak to you again.”

  She laughed, and her color came back.

  “Now, let’s go find a candle or something, so the deputy thinks you really did need a gift, and my brother will believe I bugged you to death until you finally told me.”

  “Thank you, Ainsley. For everything.”

  “No problem.”

  While we were looking around the shop, I texted Shannon.

  Sneak out the back.

  I was certain she heard our whole conversation and wouldn’t want to be here when Greg arrived.

  She sent me a thumbs-up.

  The deputy showed up with his lunch not long after that and sat in the break room and ate it, while I explained that I needed to talk to Greg.

  “I’ll call for him. He’s at the station. They got a lead on a car they think the suspect might have used.”

  I was glad Becky was in the bathroom washing her face. Her nerves were bad enough.

  Using his walkie-talkie, he reached out to Greg, who must have been close because he was at the back door in less than a minute. Followed by Jake.

  “You never texted me to pick you up, so I thought I’d stop by to make sure you were okay.”

  He didn’t seem that worried and I figured Shannon had texted him to come over and be a buffer with Greg. Though, technically, it wasn’t my fault this time that a witness spilled the beans.

  George woofed, as if to say it was food time. He’d been hanging out in my office all this time, and had just woken up.

  “Would you mind taking George for a walk? I promised Becky I’d stay with her while she talks to Greg and the deputy. I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sheriff?” I used my polite and respectful voice.

  “Becky, is that what you want?” Greg asked her gently.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll take George out, and figure out some dinner. Greg, do you need something?” Jake asked.

  “I haven’t had lunch yet,” he said. “I’m about to take the deputy’s fries in as evidence.” Everyone laughed, including Becky. My brother was good at reading a scene. Helping Becky relax was one of his tactics, and it worked.

  The deputy passed his fries over and Greg took a couple.

  “I’ll pick up dinner. Becky, do you want anything?” Jake asked her.

  She blushed. Jake did that to women of all ages. “No thank you. I’m too nervous to eat.”

  “Don’t be,” Greg said. “You are helping us. Every detail matters.”

  “That’s what Ainsl
ey said.”

  “Sometimes, my sister knows what she’s talking about.”

  We all laughed.

  *

  By the time Jake returned with George, Greg had finished questioning Becky.

  “Becky was hoping she could maybe go home to be with her parents this weekend? Her horses are there and she loves to ride.”

  “As long as the deputy is with you, I don’t have a problem with it.”

  “I’m really grateful.” Again, I hate to admit it, but my brother is smart. He probably understood better than any of us that she had been through more than any young girl should have.

  “Deputy, talk with her parents. Do you mind staying with her until I can figure out something with the local law enforcement?”

  “Sheriff, I don’t mind and I’ll talk to the chief over there. He and I are fishing buddies.”

  After Becky gave me a tight hug, she and the deputy left.

  Jake put several bags from Dairy Queen on the table. We’d been eating so healthy and my mouth was watering at the prospect of fries and a cheeseburger.

  “This one’s yours, Ains.” He handed me a bag. There were no fries. Two chicken breasts were wrapped in lettuce. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but man, I really wanted a burger.

  “Thanks for this,” Greg said as he pulled out two triple cheeseburgers and two orders of fries.

  Ugh. Men. They could eat whatever they wanted and not worry about blood sugar or gaining weight. At least, the men around me could. It wasn’t fair.

  “She came to you,” Greg said. It was more of a statement rather than a question.

  I shrugged. “I guess she felt more comfortable with me.”

  “I appreciate you calling me in,” Greg said.

  He was being unusually nice. Maybe he was just tired. There were lines around his eyes that weren’t normally there.

  We ate in silence for a bit, except for George who was gulping down his burgers.

  “Why do I get the feeling you want to ask me something?” Greg asked.

  “I am wondering if there’s a way we can find out who has a tattoo on their neck,” I said. “I don’t know a lot about Levi, the brother, other than Lizzie says he wasn’t the favorite son and the mom said the same thing.”

  “The mom actually picked a favorite?” Jake’s eyes were wide with amazement. He was so kind, thoughtful, and fair, that it wasn’t plausible to him that someone could be so cruel.

  “Our friend Jere says he has a stick up his butt. I’m just trying to think about who had the most to gain by getting rid of Mort.”

  “Who is Jere?” Jake asked. He frowned.

  “Are you jealous?”

  His eyebrow went up.

  I laughed.

  Greg snorted.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not his type or gender. He’s funny, and I think he and Lizzie are becoming great friends, which is good, since they’ll be running the company together. Have you guys been able to get into the business files, yet?”

  “We’re waiting on a court order. The county judge there wouldn’t help us out, so we had to get help from the federal court.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What?” Greg put his burger down.

  “Jere told us that the family owned the town and everyone in it. That would make sense.”

  “Do you think the victim and Jere were lovers?” Greg asked.

  I hadn’t really thought about Jere that way. “I have no idea but I can ask him. He’s pretty open about stuff.”

  Greg smirked. “That’s kind of my job.”

  “But I might be able to get more out of him.”

  “Except, you’re supposed to be sequestered in town.”

  “How do you feel about a little road trip? I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo.”

  Greg knocked over his soda, which had a lid and didn’t spill much. But I was worried Jake might have to give himself the Heimlich he was coughing so hard. I pounded on his back.

  “A tattoo?” Jake said hoarsely.

  “What do you guys have against tattoos? You both have them.”

  Greg and Jake just stared at each other. Then Greg rolled his eyes.

  “You’ve never mentioned it,” Jake said carefully.

  “There are a thousand different tattoo parlors in Austin. It is the coolest city in the world. But how many would there be down where the family lives? I mean, if it’s one of them. Or someone who works for them, maybe I could check it out. I have this feeling if I see it, I’ll know what it is.”

  “You are not going to tattoo parlors by yourself,” Greg said.

  “She doesn’t like it when you say it that way,” Jake interjected. “I think what Greg means is: they aren’t always the nicest places with the best clientele. There are some upscale ones. Your best bet might be checking out their stuff online.”

  “I’ll do some research tonight, so I can go through and see if there is a font that is similar. Maybe I’ll see it online.”

  I’m a terrible person. I had no intention of asking either of them to go. This was definitely a girls’ sort of thing. I couldn’t get Lizzie away from her watcher without Greg finding out, but I had a feeling Shannon and Jasmine would be all over this.

  And I really had been thinking about a tattoo. Maybe because it is very un-me. But I had a big birthday coming up, and I had a new life that I loved. I just thought it might be fun to document this time of my life.

  I also had a grave aversion to needles and pain.

  “She’s doing that thing,” Jake said. “Where she says one thing, but she’s thinking something else.”

  Darn that man. He really did pay attention. “Not at all. That’s my I wonder where I should start researching face.”

  I’d promised Jake to never lie to him. Like I said, I’m a horrible person. But I would do anything to keep my friends safe, even if it meant getting inked.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My friend Shannon is the sweetest, most manipulative human in the world. By Wednesday afternoon, she’d convinced Jake, Mike, and Greg that she was taking me out for a pre-birthday bash. One she’d had planned for months. She even blindfolded me to make it look real. And “kidnapped” me from the shop.

  The kicker was she even convinced them to let Lizzie come with us. She told them she had a hotel suite in Austin and that we were going to shop, eat, and drink margaritas until we fell down.

  We were in Mike’s big truck so that we all fit comfortably, and were headed out of town.

  “Do you think one of them will follow?” Jasmine asked. “They are all very protective of Ainsley.”

  “They better not,” Shannon said. “And, technically, I didn’t lie once. We are going to go shopping—just for tattoos instead of what they think. We’ll eat Mexican food and drink margaritas. There is this great place that’s near one of the tattoo shops Ainsley sent in her message.”

  “Oh, I have a tattoo shop to add,” Lizzie said. “Jere called me back. He said if we go there, to call him. He knows the owner and can get us a deal. It’s a popular spot with the locals. I mean, we aren’t actually getting tattoos. But you get it.”

  Deadly Tattoos was in a strip mall that had Taco Bonita at one end and a laundromat at the other.

  “So you can get a tattoo, grab dinner and do your laundry at the same time,” Jasmine said. “That’s some clever bundling.”

  “Do you think they do walk-ins?” I asked. “Some tattoo artists are booked up for months ahead of time. When I was doing my research I learned that.”

  Shannon shrugged. “This doesn’t look like the kind of place that is booked out for months ahead. Though, I’m the last to judge. I had mine done in a tent at spring break on the beach.”

  We all turned to look at her. “I’ve known you how long and you have a tattoo?”

  “I don’t talk about it very often because I’m embarrassed.”

  “Oh, now you have to show us,” Jasmine said.

  “Yes. Show us. Show us. Show us,
” Lizzie sang. It was good to see her smiling again.

  “Y’all, I’m gonna need some margaritas before that happens.”

  We all laughed.

  “At least tell us what it is,” I said.

  She sighed dramatically. “If I tell you, promise that none of you will share the information?”

  “Everything that happens tonight is under the code of silence,” I said. “If the guys find out what we’re doing, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “It’s a dolphin,” she said. “And not, an oh, that’s a pretty dolphin. It’s super cheesy. Consider this my public service announcement: Never get a tattoo on a beach during a party.”

  “Noted,” I said.

  We climbed out of the truck and headed inside. The sun was still bright outside, so I blinked and tried to focus on the dark shop. It was nicer than I’d imagined and super clean. There was a young girl, who was dressed like an anime character, at the front counter and she smiled and waved us closer.

  “Are you ladies looking for tattoos?”

  We nodded in unison. I tried to not bust out laughing. We had no idea what we were doing.

  “It’s her birthday.” Shannon pointed to me. “It’s coming up and she’s been talking about a tattoo for a while. We looked stuff up online, but we thought maybe it would be a good idea to come in and actually look at the art. She still can’t decide what she wants. And we have no idea how much they even cost.”

  The girl’s smile widened. “You came to a great place for your first tattoos. My dad, Juan Lelo, owns the shop. He started in New York and has worked all over the world. He won’t let me put his trophies out, but he’s won a lot.

  “But the cool thing for you guys is the last Sunday of every month he teaches a class about how to find your perfect tattoo. He says the art you share on your body is an expression of you. He teaches people how to figure out what that might be. It’s also online, but I think you get more out of the class if you’re in person. Though, he’s my dad, so I might be biased.”

  Whatever my expectations had been about a tattoo shop, this was nowhere close. Even if I hadn’t been thinking about one, I would have signed up. She was quite the salesperson.