Sweet Taffy and Murder: Sweet Taffy Cozy Mysteries Book #1

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Sweet Taffy and Murder: Sweet Taffy Cozy Mysteries Book #1 Page 12

by Dana Moss


  “I feel like I’m OD-ing on oxygen,” giggled Taffy in her slightly snorting way.

  Ethan didn’t laugh along with her though. He looked a bit sad. “Our views of progress are so short sighted. Who needs more big-box stores, casinos, and skyscrapers?”

  “Sometimes in New York you see birds’ nests on building ledges. Doesn’t look quite right though. And they’re mostly just pigeons anyway.”

  “Do you know what kind of bird you just saw in that nest?”

  “No idea.” Bird-watching was for nerds where Taffy came from.

  “A marbled murrelet. There are fewer and fewer of them every year. Not just that species, but all kinds.”

  “Are you trying to turn me into a tree hugger?”

  Taffy sidled up to him as they walked on, and she let her arm brush against his. She’d easily convert to an Ethan-hugger, but he still wasn’t making any moves on her.

  “I’m not trying to turn you into anything,” he said, facing her with his open, warm gaze. “I like you just the way you are.”

  But he didn’t seem to like her well enough to ask her out on a proper date or give her a proper kiss. At least not yet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Taffy would have enjoyed spending the rest of the day with Ethan, but she had promised Maria and her mother she’d come to dinner.

  Taffy hadn’t seen Maria’s mother since she was twelve. Back then, Rosa Salinas had waited hand and foot on Ellen Belair, who probably couldn’t have survived a day without her maid. Taffy and Maria had often been underfoot and had to be banished to Taffy’s room to play. Her memories of Rosa were of a stern, busy woman who often seemed worried, but this woman, wrapped in a blanket in the living room of a sparse but neatly organized house, smiled so wide her eyes crinkled as soon as Taffy walked in. The blanket fell from her shoulders, and she held out her hands.

  “Little Taffy Belair, come here.”

  Taffy bent to accept Rosa’s embrace. Her spicy, clean smell stirred Taffy’s memories.

  When she pulled back, Rosa stared at Taffy and sighed deeply. “Oh, my. You remind me so much of your mother. How I’ve missed her.”

  Taffy swallowed back a wave of emotion. Rosa’s warm brown eyes, so sincere, made Taffy’s heart thump, as if her mom might be sleeping off a night of partying in the next room while Rosa entertained Taffy.

  “And now here you are. Her spitting image. Almost. Whatever it was that brought you to our little town, we must thank God Almighty for His mysterious ways.” She closed her eyes and touched her chest for a moment.

  “Mama, whatever brought Taffy to town, it wasn’t God Almighty.”

  “Shush, Maria. You must know when to count your blessings. We’re together again now.” She smiled, and her eyes crinkled at the edges.

  Maria bit her tongue and smiled at her mother. Then she disappeared to check something in the kitchen.

  “Now, tell me, what are you doing here, darling?”

  Taffy cleared her throat. “Well, I’ve got a job at the candy factory right now.”

  Rosa nodded sagely. “Ah, I see. Mrs. Belair wants to teach you a lesson.”

  For a split second Taffy thought maybe Rosa was aware of Nana’s scheme.

  “She won’t return my calls. She must be really mad at me.”

  Rosa shook her head. “She loves you. More than you can imagine. This is tough love, but you can handle it.” Rosa patted Taffy’s hand. “She sometimes spoke of sending your mother away, though she never did. Maybe if she had…” Rosa shook her head and didn’t finish her sentence. “No matter. God has His strange ways. It is up to us to bear up humbly.”

  Maria returned from the kitchen.

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  Maria helped her mother move from the living room chair to the dining room.

  “It’s mostly arthritis,” Maria explained. “And it’s more uncomfortable in the evenings.”

  “Shush, you don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

  “Never.” Maria rolled her eyes in Taffy’s direction.

  Over lasagna, salad, and red wine, Rosa reminisced about Ellen. She couldn’t know how painful this was for Taffy, who realized that Rosa had far more memories of her mother than she did. But under the pain Taffy felt a kind of hope percolating, a hope that she might recover more of her memories, a process that had already begun since meeting Maria.

  “Do you like living in Oregon?” Taffy asked Rosa.

  “It’s more peaceful than New York, which is nice.”

  “Too peaceful for Taffy,” Maria interjected.

  Taffy laughed. “I admit the slower pace has been hard to get used to.”

  Maria raised an eyebrow. “The pace of life or the speed limits?”

  Taffy smirked. “Both I guess.”

  Rosa said, “The dampness aggravates my joints at times, but Maria seems happy here. I won’t rest until she’s found herself a husband though.”

  “Ma, stop. You’re living in the dark ages.”

  Did Taffy see a blush creeping up Maria’s cheeks?

  “I had hopes for that outdoorsy fellow from a while back. The park ranger?”

  Taffy stopped in midbite. “Ethan?” So her suspicions were right.

  Rosa pressed, “Whatever happened between you?”

  “I’m curious, too,” Taffy said

  Maria sported a hot blush now. “That was casual and led nowhere. It fizzled, and we’re better as friends. Seriously.” She cleared her throat. “He’s crushing on Taffy now.”

  Rosa appraised Taffy. “I guess that’s no surprise. Takes after her mother in that way.” Quietly, she added, “But not in all ways.”

  Taffy thought about her mom and how she’d never been around to either tease or teach Taffy about boys. She felt a pain deep in her chest, a longing for something she would never have. Maybe they were all thinking about Ellen, and how she died, and how things might have been if she hadn’t, but this was a dark, endless road for Taffy, one she’d trained hard not to go down, in memory or emotion. She was better off focusing on the present. So she said to Rosa, “While I’m here, I’ll do my best to help Maria with her husband hunting.”

  Maria laughed out loud.

  “You do have a way of sticking your nose in things.”

  Rosa said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Taffy’s found a way to stir up trouble with the Janet Harken case.”

  Rosa looked up. “What could Taffy possibly have to do with that?”

  “She convinced us something was amiss, and with her help, we found enough evidence to bring in Anthony Herbert last night.”

  “That oaf?”

  “Ma, please. You taught me not to name call.”

  Rosa shook her head. “He’s a self-serving scoundrel, but he’s too weak willed to murder.”

  “We’ll soon find out. Gravely’s been questioning him all day.”

  Rosa held up a hand. “You know if I hear too much about your work my blood pressure sky rockets. Let’s go back to talking about who you might date next.”

  Taffy and Maria shared a smile across the table. For the rest of the evening they avoided talking about murder and death.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  By Monday, word had spread that Janet Harken’s death was a crime of passion. Theories abounded about how Anthony Herbert had been having a secret affair with Janet behind Gillian’s back (which was supposedly another secret affair) and Janet had threatened to tell Gillian and so Tony Herbert had got to her before she could say anything.

  A few people who actually thought this through realized that it could have been Gillian who found out about the affair and decided to get rid of Janet herself, and so it was no surprise when Lieutenant Gravely showed up at the factory to bring Gillian in for questioning. She was cooperative and didn’t put up a fight.

  Aubin tittered in the lunchroom, theorizing Gillian must be innocent or she wouldn’t be as cool as a cucumber. Taffy figured murderers must be pretty cucumbe
r-cool to begin with.

  But several things didn’t sit right with Taffy. For one, why would two intelligent, attractive women fight over someone like Anthony Herbert? Love may be blind, but anyone could see that Tony Herbert wasn’t the type to incite jealous rages.

  With all the drama and rumormongering, not much got done at the factory that morning. Herbert and Gillian were off premises, and though Aubin did her best to get people to their stations, the scene was a bit like a classroom when the teacher’s away and a substitute comes in late and unprepared.

  While Taffy felt a bit guilty for giving Maria reason to treat Herbert as a suspect, she was nonetheless surprised when both he and Gillian returned, free as birds, to the factory in the afternoon. They both kept their heads down and disappeared into their respective offices.

  Taffy went straight to the police station after work to get the lowdown from Maria. Lieutenant Gravely was there and gave her a nod but didn’t look too pleased.

  “It appears our work isn’t quite done, Miss Belair.”

  It was almost as if he blamed her, when just a few days ago he’d been thanking her.

  Still, he offered a little smile as he let her in through the little barrier gate on her way over to Maria’s desk.

  Maria stopped typing and looked up. Taffy didn’t even have to ask.

  Maria said, “We had to let him go.”

  “But he was hiding something, wasn’t he?”

  “There had been conflicts between him and Janet for sure, but he didn’t kill her. He admitted he’d been pressuring her to sign over her shares in the factory to him. He’d had Davenport draw up a contract and had approached her with it several times. But she wouldn’t sell. Apparently he’d tried this over a year ago, before Gillian was hired. And then he’d tried again recently. He admitted he’d been pressuring her again, including some light threats, but he was adamant about having nothing to do with her death.”

  “He’d threatened her? Was he the one who sent those newsprint letters?”

  Maria shook her head. “He knew nothing about those. And our analysis shows them to be quite old actually. No idea where they came from.”

  “So you just believed him? He could have been lying. You said he had no alibi.”

  “He provided an airtight alibi this morning. Gillian corroborated.”

  “What if they’re lying for each other? Covering up?”

  Maria shook her head. “Gillian brought in proof today.”

  “What kind of proof?”

  Maria coughed. “They asked me not to make it public because of the nature of small-town rumors.”

  “Can’t you tell me?”

  A smile crept at the corners of Maria’s lips. It looked she might burst out laughing. She glanced around the station and then leaned forward, saying quietly, “Out of uniform, after hours, and off the record. Let’s meet at the Karaoke bar later. I get off in an hour.”

  Taffy had sworn to herself she’d never go back there, but Maria’s invitation was too tempting.

  * * *

  While waiting for Maria to get off work, Taffy decided to stop off at the bowling alley since it was on the way to the Karaoke bar. She pulled the Aveo into the nearly empty parking lot. As she pushed through the dirty glass double doors into the stale air she heard the distant crash of pins falling.

  Tinny music played from ceiling speakers, and one of the pin resetting machines clunked repeatedly at the far end of the room. A lone, beer-bellied man practiced at one lane, and a small group of seniors played cards at a table near the closed concession stand.

  Taffy approached the acne-sprinkled young man behind the bowling-shoe rental counter. He looked familiar. He grinned broadly when he looked up and saw Taffy. Setting aside his comic book, he said, “Hey, Miss New York. How’s the Aveo holding up?”

  How did he know where she was from and what kind of car she drove? Then she recognized the grin.

  “Ronald Sugar? From the airport?”

  He grin grew wider. “At your service.”

  Taffy glanced down at the bikini-clad superheroes in his comic strip.

  “The Aveo handles curves better than I expected.”

  He closed the comic and slid it under the table.

  “So are you here to bowl? What’s your shoe size?” He leaned over the counter to look at her feet. “Let me guess. Eight?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you might be able to tell me how many bowling clubs are registered here?”

  He shrugged. “Dozen maybe. Why? Wanna join one? You could be in my club.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not the sporty type.”

  He looked her up and down, but before he could conjure a comeback, Taffy asked, “Ever heard of the Magpie Bowling Club?”

  “Sure. They come in every other week.”

  She looked up and down the empty lanes. “Must be the most action you get around here.”

  “Oh, they don’t come here to bowl.”

  A bowling club that didn’t bowl?

  “What do they do then?”

  “Rent the back room over there.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He shrugged and reached under the counter. Taffy heard the jangle of keys. “Follow me.”

  “Do you know what they meet about?”

  “Not a clue, but they look awfully serious when they leave.”

  “How many in the group?”

  Ronald shoved the keys in the lock. “Can’t say for sure. Ten? Or maybe just eight.”

  “When’s the last time they were here?”

  “I’d have to check the calendar.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  He left Taffy in the room. It had old stained carpet and was in need of a paint job. There was a boardroom table with a dozen or so office chairs scattered about. A bulletin board on one end and a whiteboard at the other. In one corner, a dartboard. There was a dart still stuck in the board. Trapped under its point was a small triangle of paper. She recognized the logo for the Castle Rock Resort.

  Ronald returned and said, “They were here three weeks ago. In and out quick. Pretty serious that night if I remember correctly, and not as many of them as usual.”

  “Thanks.” She discreetly tucked the paper into her purse and turned to leave.

  “Anything else I can help you with?” Ronald said hopefully.

  She was about to say no, but the last minute she thought to ask,

  “Do happen you know Anthony Herbert?”

  “Sure, he’s the local champion. Must have been born in a bowling alley.”

  “Was he part of the Magpie Bowling Club?”

  “Nah, I would have recognized him coming and going.”

  By the time Taffy left the bowling alley, she had the dates of the last three Magpie meetings along with Ronald’s text number, Facebook page, Twitter handle, and Instagram ID. She shoved the social-media hit list into the Aveo’s empty ashtray, intending to let it wither.

  She cross-checked the meeting dates with the strange codes in the MBC composition book she still had, the one from Janet’s bowling-ball bag. The numbers and codes seemed to correspond. If she was reading the code right, the meetings seemed to take place roughly two weeks apart, by Ronald’s calculations as well as the patterns in the book. The last scheduled meeting would have been the night of Janet’s death. Taffy counted out days, and the next meeting after Janet’s death would’ve taken place just a few days ago, the night of Ellie's party. But if the remaining members had met at all, it wasn’t at the bowling alley.

  Taffy was really looking forward to meeting up with Randall Swain the following evening to find out what this club was really up to.

  * * *

  After a short drive down the road, Taffy pulled up in front of the karaoke bar. She noticed they still hadn’t changed the spelling of the sign. Maria pulled up next to her in an unmarked car.

  They chose a high top table and each ordered a drink.

  Taffy was chomping at the bit.

&nb
sp; “Okay, so tell me, what was Gillian’s name-clearing proof?”

  Maria glanced around the bar and then leaned a little closer to Taffy.

  “A sex tape,” she said, barely able to suppress a mirth. “They made a sex tape.”

  “No way! And they gave it to you?”

  The waitress delivered their drinks. After she left, Maria said, “It was date-stamped. So he’s not our guy. But he’s very clearly Gillian’s.” Maria giggled into her soda and lime, making little bubbles. “Whips and everything.”

  “Seriously? Can I see it? No, forget it. I don’t want to.” She couldn’t picture tight-lipped Gillian playing dominatrix to Anthony Herbert in his dark-rimmed glasses.

  “Can’t people fake that kind of thing?”

  “Sex?” Maria started to giggle again.

  “No! The video date stamp. That kind of thing.”

  Maria pulled herself together. “They also gave me the address of the motel. The receipt. The manager remembered them. It all checked out.”

  “Huh.” In some ways Taffy was relieved it hadn’t been him. He’d hardly seemed the cold-blooded killer type, though he had been hiding things. Seems they were back at square one.

  “So where to from here?” Taffy took a slow sip of her virgin apple martini.

  “Chief Green is none too happy, let me tell you. And Gravely’s whispering to him about the next election and how an unsolved case will work against him.”

  Taffy bit her lip, thinking. “When you questioned Herbert, did he ever mention anything about a club called the MBC?”

  “No, why?”

  “It might be nothing.” Taffy fingered the stem of her glass. “I asked Swain about it.”

  “When did you talk to Swain?”

  “Uh… Saturday, before Ellie’s party.”

  “You mean after I told you to mind your own business?”

  Taffy gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Why do I have a feeling I’m going to be glad you didn’t?”

  “I thought Gravely went to talk to him that day, too. I saw him at the resort.”

  “I didn’t see anything in his report, but go on, what does it have to do with Janet?”

  “It was a bowling club she belonged to, only apparently the club didn’t bowl, at least according to the alley manager. I think Swain belongs to it, but he didn’t want to talk about it while he was at the resort. He told me to meet him at Moe’s diner tomorrow night and he’d tell me more.”

 

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