by Tegan Maher
We glanced at each other, and Kerri shook her head. "I've been all over Fred for the last year to do some maintenance around here, but he don't listen. He says the place still draws a decent sort of guest, so if it ain't broke, there's no need to fix it."
"Huh," Dee replied, pushing the door open again and letting it close by itself. Once again, it stopped just short of latching. "It may be time to tell him somethin's broke, seein' as how a murderer managed to plant a murder weapon in a room without even needin' to jimmy the lock."
She just shook her head. "I'm sorry girls, but it looks like it may have been as easy as pushin' the door open and tossin' it in on the way by."
"Speaking of," I said, "where was the body found?"
Kerri pointed to a spot a little farther down the breezeway. "Three doors down. Her room is the second door from this one—233—and the other judge is two doors down from that. I try to keep a room between everybody when we're not booked up. You know, so folks don't have to listen to the headboard knockin' or kids screamin'."
I smiled. "That's considerate of you. I wish all front desk folks were that nice. I've spent some sleepless nights because of that. By three o'clock or so, I'm ready to commit hara-kiri."
"Me too, except it's them I want to drive a sword through, not myself. That's why I do it." She gave a mirthless smile and shook her head. "Up 'til now, it's how I've managed to keep guests from killin' each other. I reckon I'm gonna have to rethink my strategy."
I smiled. "Unless you're handin' out iron skillets as thank-you gifts, your conscience is clear on this one."
I went to pull the door shut and she put out a hand. "Do you wanna get the rest of her stuff? There ain't much, but I either have to collect it and put it at the front desk or keep chargin' her for the room. I hate to do that, but I don't wanna leave it up front, either. My fingers aren't sticky, but I can't make no guarantees somebody else's aren't."
"Sure," Dee said. "We've got the rest of her stuff at the lodge, so if we grab what's here, they'll be all together in one spot when she gets out."
"If she gets out," Kerri said under her breath, and I frowned because she was right.
After we collected the couple pairs of jeans and t-shirts Faith had hung in the closet, we went back to the office to get the names of the other contestants staying there.
"I can only give you four names," she said. The other three aren't listed because they're sharin' a room and all I ask for is the name of the person bookin' the room."
"That's okay," I said, then did the mental math in my head. "Wait, that's seven people, not six."
"Oh," she replied as she pulled out the registration book. "Yeah, one of the girls brought her mom along. They're sharin' a room."
"Here they are," she said, running her finger down the page and stopping on the first name. "Monica Richards. She's bunked up with one of the other girls."
I flipped through the program and found her picture—it was the redhead I'd talked to that morning. I flipped to the next page, where I found the picture of the brunette—Susan Barnett—then spun the pamphlet around so Kerri could see it.
"Is this the girl she's bunkin' with?"
She nodded. "Yup, sure is."
"Okay," Dee said. "That's two down. Who's next?"
Kerri skipped to the next name. "Gary Winchester."
I flipped through and found his name, then turned it around and she nodded. "Yup. And he and the other guy are sharin' a room."
She looked through the other faces on those pages, then turned to the next one. "There," she said, pointing at a smiling, middle-aged man. "Marc Lawley."
"I talked to him this morning," Dee said. "He just moved down here from Pennsylvania a couple months ago. The bakery he works at up there just opened a new place here and one in Tampa. He's stayin' here long enough to get the first one open and make sure the staff know what they're doin', then headin' down to Florida to do the same thing."
I furrowed my brow. "How did he end up in the contest?"
"Gary's the new manager of the store, and Marc thought it would be a good way to test his mettle." She rolled her eyes. "He didn't tell Gary that, though. Poor guy's under the impression he's on a company-paid-for mini vacay with twenty-five grand as the possible bonus."
I shook my head. Some people. I mean, I could see how it would be a good indicator of his creativity, time management, and ability to work well under pressure, but if you're gonna dump a guy in the jungle, it's only fair to tell him there are lions.
"All right," Dee said. "That's four down. What about the other two?"
Rather than look at the ledger, Kerri browsed the pictures, then pointed. "This is one—Kacey Langston. She's the one stayin' by herself, and this is the other—Jill Kastle. Wait a minute," she said, then pointed at Nina's picture. "This is the one I mistook for Jill's mom."
I glanced at Dee. "Did you talk to either of them this morning?"
She shook her head. "Nope. As a matter of fact, I didn't even see them there."
"Oh," Kerri said. "They got a late start. I know because they stopped in for coffee and that Nina woman was none too happy to be runnin' late. Lots of tension between the two of them."
I flipped the program around and read the womens' bios.
"They're from different towns," I said.
"Yeah," Dee said, pointing at Susan's and Monica's bios, "but so are the other two. They probably know each other from pastry school or something."
"Where are these rooms located?" I asked.
"The guys and the two young girls sharin' a room are downstairs, right here close to the office. The one stayin' by herself is on the other side of that hot guy judge, and Jill and Nina are two doors down from her."
"So they're closer to the steps on the other end of the building," I said, trying to get a feel for how everybody would have come and gone.
"Yeah, but I have those blocked off because the railing's loose. There's another set, but they're around the corner and down quite a ways. The logical ones for them to use would be the ones we just used."
"So they'd have to pass the judges' rooms and Faith's then." I just wanted to get the lay of the land. Too much info was always better than not enough. Well, unless you're talking about any sort of bodily fluid or other disgusting personal seepages. Then TMI is just TMI.
"I guess they would. But what difference would that make?"
"I'm not sure it would make any difference at all," I said, "but it's good to know."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"She's right, you know," I said after we were back in the car.
"About what?" Dee asked, buckling her seatbelt.
"About it being a matter of if Faith gets out rather than when."
She shook her head. "We can't think like that. We'll figure it out."
"So all doubt has left your mind about Faith being innocent?"
She pinched her lips together and nodded slowly. "I didn't really think she was guilty to begin with, but I just don't trust myself. I wanted to get a feel for things before I made a decision."
"I can see that. And it's a good thing. It made me pull back a little too. After all, we don't know her."
"So where to next?" she asked as I pulled out.
"I'm not sure," I replied. "I'd like to talk to Robert Taylor. See if he has an opinion as to who may have done it. I don't even know if they've worked together before."
Dee scrunched her forehead. "That's a good question. If they have, it would be news to me, but then again, pretty much everything in this business is news to me."
"Should we go by and check on Faith?" I asked. "I'm worried about her. She has to be out of her mind by now. Maybe we should tell her what we've learned. See if she's thought of anything."
"That should probably be the next step," she said. "After all, she does these things all the time. Not on this scale, maybe, but she probably knows more about the players than I do."
I glanced at my watch—it was only two, so I still had plenty of time
before I had to be at work. "I wouldn't mind cornering Lena and asking her a few questions, either. And Nina and Jake too, for that matter."
"I know it sounds selfish," she said, fingering the crystal hanging around her neck, "but I wish they'd let us know what they're going to do about the competition. I've handed the reins over to Jeremy for the week, but I hate to stick him with it if I don't have to."
Jeremy was her chef and co-manager. Unlike her aunt before her, Dee wasn't precious about running the cafe—she knew she had weaknesses and was smart enough to accept help. Fortunately, in addition to being a genius in the kitchen, Jeremy was a whiz with paperwork and knew how to keep books.
Dee had started behind the eight ball when Fiona had died and left her the place. She was extremely intelligent, but she had no experience with any sort of management, let alone owning the place. However, in just a few short months, she and Jeremy had brought the place from zero to hero. At first, Dee'd worked herself to the bone because she hadn't been able to hire any help.
In addition to the cafe, her baking business had taken off like wildfire. She was officially the go-to girl for everything from office-party cupcakes and cookies to full-on, fancy wedding cakes.
"Yeah," I said, glancing over at her, "but you deserve the time off. You haven't stopped since you took over the place, and you've been burning the candle at both ends for too long. You can only abuse yourself like that for so long before you burn out. Besides, it's not like he's alone or short-handed. You have five girls on the payroll, two of whom you trust implicitly."
Nikki and Annie both worked at the cafe—Annie full time and Nikki a few evenings a week after she left the salon—and had since she'd taken over. They knew the place as well as she did and were perfectly capable of running the front-of-house while Jeremy was cooking.
"I know," she said, "but I swore when I opened it back up that I wouldn't be an absentee owner."
I barked out a laugh as I flipped my signal on to turn into the sheriff's office parking lot. "You're the opposite of that. You never work less than six days a week. You're a helicopter owner."
She gave me a small smile. "Maybe. But I don't want anybody to think I'm asking them to do something I wouldn't do myself."
"Trust me—that will never be an issue. You're the hardest working person I know."
The conference center was coming up, and I flipped on my blinker. The lot was nearly empty as usual, and I parked in the only shady part in the lot. Fortunately, it also happened to be the spot closest to the doors. Gabe's truck was there, and I couldn't decide if I was happy about that or not.
"Gabe's here," Dee said, a tinge of dread in her voice. "I wonder if he's mad that we've been asking around."
"I doubt he knows," I replied, shutting off the SUV. "We've only been to the motel. At any rate, we're about to find out."
The courthouse was cool and had that feeling of dignified authority that made you want to whisper even if there wasn't another soul in the place. We made our way down the stairs to where the jail was.
Gabe was nowhere in sight. A deputy I'd never seen before was playing solitaire on the computer and jumped like he'd been shot when I cleared my throat. He slid the mouse up to click the X, no doubt hoping we hadn’t caught him slacking.
"Oh! Sorry ladies. I was doing some, uh, investigative research and was so absorbed I didn't hear you come in."
I rolled my eyes but reined it in; we'd get more flies with honey than vinegar and if he wanted to play solitaire when the place was quiet as a tomb, who was I to say anything?
"We're here to see Faith Walker, please." I told him, giving him my friendliest smile.
He blushed a little and shifted in his chair, but didn't say a word. He also wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Is there a problem?" Dee asked. "The sheriff specifically told us we could come see her when he arrested her this morning."
"Oh," he said, his voice heavy with relief. "You must be Toni and Dee. He said not to any of the contestants back without his say-so, or anybody from the paper, either, but he already cleared you two. He said you'd be coming in and that it wouldn't do me any good to say no to you."
The pink on his cheeks bloomed a little brighter when he realized he'd probably said too much.
"He was right," I said with a decisive nod. "So ..."
"Oh," he responded, jumping out of his chair so fast he nearly knocked it over. "Of course, ma'am."
He unlocked a drawer and pulled a set of keys out, then made his way around the counter. "Right this way."
"Thanks," Dee said with a wry smile. "And about your investigation ... I'm no cop, but I'd suggest moving the five of clubs over to the the six of hearts."
If possible, his face got even redder than it already had been. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."
"Has the sheriff set bail for her yet?" I asked, following down the hall.
"No, ma'am. He asked the judge, but the judge declined. He said since she's not from around here, she's a flight risk."
"That's ridiculous!" Dee exclaimed, but in reality, I could see the judge's point. Or at least I could have if it wasn't somebody I liked and believed to be innocent.
We followed him down the basement level, then down a row of cells. There were people in two of the cells, but the rest were empty. Faith's cell was at the end on the corner.
"Why is she all the way down here?" I wondered aloud.
"Because the sheriff wanted her to have light, and that one has a window on two walls rather that one."
I looked into the cell. It was a nice sentiment, but the windows were narrow slits maybe a foot tall and three feet long at the very top of the cell. Seeing as we were in the basement, all she could really see were the feet of anybody that passed.
She jumped up from the bed and rushed to the front of the cell.
"I've never been so happy to see anybody in my life," she exclaimed, grabbing the bars. "Are you here to get me out?"
Dee shook her head. "Sorry, sugar. They declined bail because you're not from around here and they're afraid you'd make a run for it."
Faith heaved a sigh and pinched her lips together. "I was afraid that was going to happen."
The deputy backed up to give us some privacy, but didn't leave; instead, he put his back to the far wall and clasped his hands in front of him.
"We got the rest of your stuff from the motel," Dee said. "You'd forgotten a couple of things in the closet. I hope that's okay."
She nodded and waved a hand. "Of course. Thank you. Have you learned anything?"
"We've learned a lot, but we're not sure if it's anything that will help," I said, then relayed what we'd found out from Kerri, and what Nikki had found out about Nina and the wedding catering gig.
She nodded her head. "I was actually at that competition because a friend of mine from school had thrown her name into the hat. It was a shame, because Nina's cake was one of the nicest ones there, but I saw the same thing Bella did, except I saw her do it a few more times than Bella did. I was glad they caught it."
It was a lucky break that she'd been there; she'd be able to tell us how Nina had responded.
"Oh, she was madder than an old wet hen," Faith said. "She denied it and called Bella a liar, and since she was the only person on the panel who saw it, she took some serious flack from Nina about it. I saw them in the parking lot afterward, and Nina was really giving her what for. I stopped and watched, because I was honestly afraid it was going to come to blows."
"But it didn't?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No, but only because Bella just kept walking rather than engaging with her. I don't know how she did it. If somebody confronted me like that and called me some of the things Nina did, I'd have decked her."
"Then we need to find out where Nina was at the time of the murder," Dee said.
"Soon," I agreed. "And where's Gabe? I didn't see him when we came in."
"I'm right here," he said from behind me, and I about jumped out of my skin.
<
br /> "And I hear that despite my requests from earlier, you’re not even making an effort to be discreet."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Rather than sounding irritated, there was a hint of amusement in Gabe's voice, and when I turned to face him, he looked tired rather than mad.
I shrugged and curved one side of my mouth up into a dry smile. "It's not like you didn't expect it."
He sighed. "Yes, I did. So let's hear what you've learned."
We went through the whole spiel again.
"So, it looks like Nina had the most motive. That would have been a career maker if she'd gotten the gig," Dee said.
"I agree," Gabe said, "except there's only one problem. Nina was at the convention center practicing her dessert for the next day. Several of the bakers were. Considering some of the contestants live too far away to drive but some don't, Robert said he and Bella had agreed it was only fair that the stations be open to anybody who wanted to come in. Every other baker there gave me the exact same list of names, or at least close enough physical descriptions that I could piece it together."
I puckered my lips and pushed them to the side, thinking.
"And she didn't take any sort of dinner break or anything?" Dee asked. "She stayed there all evening?"
"According to her, she didn't. But everybody sort of went to grab something to eat at different times."
I turned to Faith and Dee. "Was there a logical point in the process where she could have ran out for a few minutes?"
They both nodded, but Dee responded. "At pretty much any point, as long as nothing was baking or cooking. It's a relatively straightforward dessert, but extremely technical. Most of it is getting the exact amounts and cook times."
"So she's not necessarily in the clear then," I said. Nobody could say for sure she was definitely there at the time Bella was killed.
Faith shook her head. "No, not necessarily. What about Jake? And had Lena already left?"