Banana Muffins & Mayhem

by Janel Gradowski

  "We feel terrible," Ginny said. "We're trying our best to figure out who killed her, but we aren't having much luck."

  "Why do you feel badly about him cheating on her?" Amy asked.

  "Because it was with me."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Amy opened her eyes. But she wasn't happy about it. In a matter of seconds, she had plummeted from peaceful sleep into a bedroom filled with very disturbing noises. Pogo was making frenzied laps on the bedspread while barking his rendition of a canine power ballad. Electronic beeps modulating between low and high pitches played in time with a blinking red glow emanating from Alex's side of the bed. For his part in the auditory assault, her husband was unleashing a litany of profanity.

  She sat up and gasped when Pogo barreled headfirst into her stomach. "Calm down, baby," she said as the freaked-out dog placed his front paws on her chest and began licking her face. "What is going on?"

  Alex was sitting up beside her, staring at his phone. He swiped a finger across the screen. "It's the alarm system at Quantum. The motion detectors are sensing movement inside. I need to see what's going on."

  He bolted out of bed. Amy did the same. Both of them froze for a few seconds to catch their breath. Sudden movements were so not a good idea when their bodies felt as though they were the ice cubes in a shaken martini. Amy blinked back the tears that had instantly sprang into her eyes and said, "I'm coming with you."

  "No!" He flipped the light switch, flooding the room with pupil-terrorizing light. "I'm not putting you in danger."

  Pogo jumped off the bed and began doing figure eights around them as they stood a few feet apart. "I could be in more danger staying home. What if someone is trying to draw you into town so that they can break in here or set the house on fire?"

  He stared at her for a few seconds. "You could be right," he conceded as he disappeared into the walk-in closet. "Get dressed as quickly as you can. I'm calling the police right now, so hopefully they'll get there before us."

  Amy pulled on a pair of yoga pants and slipped a Detroit Lions sweatshirt over the XXL T-shirt she was wearing as a nightgown. It was 4:30 a.m. She scooped Pogo up as she listened to Alex talking to the 9-1-1 operator. If she was correct about someone trying to break into the house while they were gone, she wasn't going to let her sweet pup face down scary intruders all by himself—even though he could very likely scare away even the Incredible Hulk with a few well-placed ankle chomps.

  She followed Alex downstairs and sent out a cosmic thank you to the contractor who had suggested putting recessed night-lights in the wall alongside the staircase. She had never tried to run down the stairs carrying Pogo on a moonless, pitch-black night before then, but the illumination was a lifesaver. Their already battered bodies wouldn't have fared well in a tandem tumble down the steps.

  They raced out the side door. A shiver quivered through Amy as she stood on the porch while Alex double-checked that their home's alarm was set. It was chilly, but the temperature wasn't causing the reaction—it was the giant cloud of dread raining down on her. Had someone tampered with their vehicles again while they slept? What was happening at Quantum? What did the anonymous, angry psycho have in store for them?

  Amy mentally ordered her fears to take a hike. She didn't have the time or inclination to be a nervous coward. They jogged to the detached garage as the paneled door slid up. The black SUV that Alex had rented sat beside her Mini. "Let's take the rental car. If someone is inside the building, we may be able to get closer before they run if they don't recognize one of our vehicles is outside. I have a feeling whoever is behind all of this knows what car you drive."

  That was her brilliant, intelligent husband. Thinking of critical things even when Amy was having problems concentrating enough to put one foot in front of the other to walk. She climbed into the unfamiliar vehicle, fastened the seat belt, and settled Pogo on her lap. The lights from the radio cast a green glow on the dog, making him appear demonic—a look to match his recent whirling dervish routine on the bed. Amy wasn't exactly feeling like an angel herself. Whoever was messing around at Quantum Media had better hope they didn't run into her or her dog. Nothing good would come from that encounter. She and Pogo were both small, but they were fierce when provoked. Trying to blow her and Alex up then waking them up in the middle of the night was the equivalent of poking an injured rattlesnake with a short twig. Not wise.

  The hurried journey downtown was quiet as Alex concentrated on driving, and Amy focused on calming Pogo by cuddling him. He alternated between whimpering and panting. The armrest poked her in the ribs as the vehicle veered off Main Street onto the road that passed in front of Quantum. All of the windows that were visible from that vantage point were dark, as they should be at 5:00 a.m. Two police cars were parked in the company's lot.

  Pogo wiggled as the SUV swerved again and shot into the parking area. "Stay here," Alex said as he slammed the gearshift into park and flung open the door. He swung it shut then jogged toward the police cars. Alex raised his hand behind him. There was a loud click as the locks engaged, triggered by the key fob in his hand.

  It felt as though she was at a drive-in theater, watching a terrifying movie through the windshield. "Shhh…it'll be okay," Amy assured Pogo as she cradled him against her chest. He was literally vibrating from fear.

  Four officers emerged from the squad cars with their guns drawn. Alex raised his hands as he spoke to them. They talked for a few seconds then all converged on the building's employee entrance. Her husband slid his key card through the security terminal to unlock the door. The officers led the way, disappearing into the darkness, followed by Alex. The SUV turned into an airless tomb as time stopped.

  After what seemed like an hour of holding her breath, Alex emerged from the building. Amy's eyes ached from scanning the dark windows. They hadn't turned on the lights, or maybe the electricity had been cut off too, because all she saw was the occasional flare of a flashlight beam. She fumbled to locate the door lock button in the dark, unfamiliar vehicle. Alex saved her, once again, by using the key chain remote. He pulled open the door. Pogo took a flying leap into his arms. "Nobody is inside. We can't see anything that would've triggered the alarm either."

  "But you didn't turn on any lights," Amy pointed out, even as relief flooded through her.

  "That's because the officers thought they might be able to catch someone by surprise if we didn't announce our presence by turning on the lights."

  "Something must've happened to make the alarm go off."

  He sighed. "Who knows? Maybe it was a mouse or something falling off a shelf or corkboard. The security company is sending someone over to try to figure out what happened. Since the system is newly installed they said it could possibly be some kind of glitch with the equipment that they didn't know about."

  Pogo whined. He may not be able to speak English, but she knew what he was saying. Amy rummaged around in her purse to find the spare leash she always kept in it. "So what are we going to do now?" she asked as she clipped the leash onto the dog's collar. "Beyond finding a patch of grass for someone."

  Alex took the leash then bent to let Pogo down. "Hang around for a while to see if anybody can figure out what's going on."

  After taking care of the doggy potty break, Amy hung out with Pogo in the vehicle for a few more minutes as Alex spoke with the officers outside the building. Finally, he waved for her to join him as the police walked back to their cars. "It's all clear. They did a second search with the lights on. They're sure nobody is inside," he said as he held open the building's door for her. "I'm going to start going through the rooms to see if I can figure out what triggered the alarm."

  Amy followed him as he inspected the first floor cubicles and offices. She looked around too, searching for anything that seemed out of place that may have fallen and tripped the motion sensors. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor office area, Amy looked upward. How many times had she watched movies where criminals hid in the air du
cts? "Did the police check the ductwork?" she asked as they stopped in front of Alex's office.

  "Yes. All of the vent covers are screwed in place." He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "I'm confident that we are the only people in the building right now. You can lock yourself in here with Pogo, while I keep looking around, if that would make you feel better. I promise nobody would be able to fit through the small vent in my office and get you."

  She shook her head. She and Pogo had spent enough time away from Alex, shaking in fear together in the SUV. "I'd rather stay with you."

  They continued their search. Even Pogo joined in by keeping his nose to the floor. He very rarely visited the building, and his doggy senses seemed to be overloaded following the scent trails of dozens of unfamiliar people. Every time they stopped, he flopped down at Amy's feet though. Early morning people tracking was hard work.

  When they exited the enclosed stairwell after searching the open third-floor workspace, voices were filtering up from the main floor reception area. Employees were arriving. And the boss's wife was running around in her pajamas with a serious case of bed head. "I think Pogo and I will go hang out in your office now. I'm not exactly fit for public viewing."

  Alex rolled his eyes. "You are always gorgeous. Let me talk to everybody about what happened. Then I'll take you two home. Give me a half hour or so."

  "Sounds good."

  Amy shut the office door behind her and dropped her end of the leash. Pogo wagged his tail in appreciation of the freedom then promptly leaped onto the contemporary leather couch and curled into a ball. She squinted at the corner of Alex's desk. Something was glittering in the light. That was strange. She moved closer. The desktop was littered with shards of glass. A small picture frame lay face down, it's cardboard backing shredded. She flipped it over—the glass was shattered and the picture of her and Alex had a giant hole in it. Amy rushed to the couch and scooped up Pogo. He seemed content sleeping on his makeshift bed, but she wanted to make sure he wouldn't be harmed by the razor-sharp debris.

  She stared at the destruction, trying to figure out what could've caused it. Nothing came to mind. But whatever happened, it needed to be cleaned up. She found Alex talking with someone a few offices away and told him about the mess. He went to find a dustpan and broom, while she retreated to the privacy of his office again. She sat on the couch and snuggled the sleepy pup onto her lap. A spot of white on the back of the couch caught her attention. There was a hole in the leather and fiberfill was poking out. "How did that happen?" she asked Pogo. He sighed in response.

  Amy stretched to peek behind the couch. There was also a hole in the wall. Cold sweat prickled her skin. She looked at the shattered picture frame. All of the damage formed a straight line. She stood up, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Pogo as she hoisted him under her arm like a football. Connect the dots. There was a discolored spot on the window. Her breath came in short shallow puffs as she crept around the desk to stand in front of the window. It wasn't a spot of dirt. It was a hole ringed with a halo of cracks.

  The office door opened. "Sorry it took me so long," Alex said as he walked into the room. "I had to take a call from the security company. They said the motion sensors in here set off the alarm. I guess I didn't have the frame propped up well. Maybe when the heat turned on the air from the duct tipped it over. Sorry we went through this over nothing."

  Amy turned to look at him and shook her head. "That isn't what happened." She exhaled. "There are holes in the window, the picture, and your couch. I'm not an expert, but I can't think of anything other than a bullet that could cause all of this damage."

  The three of them relocated to a vacant office as they waited for the police to come back. Alex sat at the empty desk, while Amy sat cross-legged on a chair facing him. Pogo was snoring on her lap within seconds.

  "So what's next?" Amy asked as she stared out the window over Alex's shoulder. "Someone shot the picture taken of us at Carla and Shepler's wedding. That's a pretty ominous message."

  Alex crossed his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the executive's chair. "I don't think the picture was shot on purpose. There weren't any lights left on in my office overnight. I don't think there's any way someone could know what they were shooting, other than into the building."

  "Hitting the picture could be coincidental, but it was your office, and you're the person receiving the threats."

  They both jumped when the phone buzzed. The receptionist announced that there were two detectives downstairs. Alex went down to meet them, while Amy deposited Pogo onto the chair to continue his much-needed nap in peace. She stepped into the hallway and quietly shut the door behind her. Shepler and Detective Foster stood in front of Alex's office. Neither one of them appeared happy to be there.

  Amy joined Alex in the hallway as the detectives stepped inside his office. Shepler motioned for them to come in and asked, "Do you know if the damage in here was done before, during, or after the officers searched the building because of the alarm?"

  Alex shrugged. "I assume this is what set off the alarm that was triggered by a motion sensor in my office. But I don't know for sure. I mean, we should've heard something if the shot was taken while we were inside the building, right?"

  The thought that the shooter could've been aiming for Alex instead of his picture sent a chill through Amy. "I was outside in the parking lot while the building was being searched. I would've noticed a gunshot," Amy added. "Besides that, they didn't turn any of the lights on when they did the initial search. It was impossible to see where anybody was from outside."

  Shepler squatted down in front of the hole in the window. He swiveled on his toes to look at the desk. "Interesting." He stood up and peered out the window. "The shot angles down slightly. The shooter must've been in another building."

  "Gunshots aren't common around here. There are a lot of apartments on the upper floors downtown," Amy said. "Someone would've reported it, don't you think?"

  "I'll check on that," Detective Foster said.

  Amy turned just in time to see the blonde detective's back as she walked out. It was probably better that way. Amy was not impressed with her crime-solving performance so far. Since Shepler was back at work and apparently helping with the case, maybe some answers would finally be found as to who was terrorizing them and if it was the same person who killed Phoebe Plymouth, despite the rookie detective's assertion otherwise.

  "Please tell me you're helping her out." Amy looked at Shepler with her best puppy dog eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can handle having a target on my back. I thought I had figured out who was behind everything yesterday but got accused of committing the murder myself. Guess I was wrong."

  "What?" Alex looked at her as though she was speaking Martian. He crossed the room and shut the door. "Who did you accuse?"

  "I can't wait to hear this," Shepler said as he folded his arms over his chest.

  "The producer of Phoebe's show and the production assistant. They're still in town, supposedly to interview people to take over hosting Old House/New Style. But I called them out. There's no way they have that many people lined up to audition that they've needed to stay here for weeks doing a task which could easily be done by email and phone calls."

  "So you accused them of committing the murder?" Alex asked. He scratched the top of his head and then swiped his hand over his face.

  "Yes…and for planting a bomb in our Jeep."

  "I can imagine what they thought of that," Shepler said.

  "Well, they didn't like it. Especially since they said they've been sticking around to try to find Phoebe's killer themselves. Turns out there was a love triangle going on between the three of them. Phoebe had found out about the affair, and they think she hooked up with the mystery man wearing a Quantum shirt in retaliation. So they feel guilty about her winding up dead. Or at least that's what they say."

  "You don't believe them?" Shepler asked.

  Amy spread her hands out. "I wasn't sure a
fter I talked with them, and now since someone put a bullet through a picture of me and Alex, I'm really doubting their story."

  Shepler looked at the door. "I think someone needs to check on more than gunshot reports. I asked Lauren for a full rundown of what she'd discovered concerning the case as we were driving here. She didn't mention the love triangle, so I doubt she knows about it." He shook his head. "I'm sorry about this. I thought Lauren was ready to handle a case on her own, so I made the recommendation that she take this one on."

  Amy and Alex returned to the office where Pogo was happily napping, while Shepler had a talk with his protégé. As soon as they were alone, Alex asked, "Why would you confront two people you suspect of being murderers on your own?"

  "We were in the courtyard of the K Hotel. There were quite a few people around, so technically, I wasn't alone with them." Amy walked around the desk and stood in front of the window. She would rather look at the buildings where a sniper could at that moment be zeroing in on her than at the disappointment and concern on her husband's face. "I was desperate after almost being blown up with you. I'd already told Foster that I was suspicious of Nigel and Ginny, but you see where that went. Nowhere."

  Alex's fingertips traced across her shoulders. His warm hand slipped down her arm and settled on her hip. "I hate that you put yourself in danger. Someone standing right next to you couldn't have done anything to help if one of those people pulled a gun." His body pressed against her back. "But I'm desperate to stop this torture too. Please know that I'm not mad at you, just scared thinking about what could've happened if the situation had played out differently."

  She leaned her head back and snapped it forward again when the tender line of stitches hit his chest. The jolt of pain zapped a revelation into her mind. She had been really stupid. Somehow, in her rush to accuse Ginny and her lover of being killers, she had forgotten about seeing a gun in the assistant's purse. "It maybe wasn't the smartest thing to do. I'll admit that. I don't know what else to do. I just want these threats to be over."