“So was Rick.”
Long pause. “We’re bringing Rick in too.”
That wasn’t good. Rick hated Trent. Although Rick kicked me out so he could move his girlfriend of the month into our house, he blamed Trent for the breakup of our marriage. That’s Rick. Rewrites history until he gets it just the way he wants it.
“Are you going to question him?” I asked.
“No. Lawson will have that honor.”
“That’s good. I’d hate for you to have to kill him.”
“Really?”
“Only because you might get in trouble for it. All right, what time do you want me there to describe in graphic detail the act of a man dropping to the sidewalk in front of me? Can it wait until we close this afternoon?”
“Sure. How about around five? We could go get an early dinner afterward.”
“Sounds good.” I’d have liked to invite him to my house for dessert afterward, but that wasn’t going to happen until my divorce from Rick the Dick was final.
“Five o’clock then. Don’t forget the cookies.”
I hung up and turned to Paula, relating the details of my conversation with Trent. “Bradford was murdered. An ex-con was poisoned right here in front of our restaurant, and it’s probably going to be on the ten o’clock news! I can just hear it. Murder victim dies from poisoning at Death by Chocolate. I don’t think that’s going to help our business. Damn Rick for bringing that man in here! Rick’s the gift that keeps on giving, kind of like a venereal disease.”
Paula laughed. “He should come with a warning sign.”
I slid a pan of cookies into the oven and set the timer for eight minutes. “Maybe they’ll arrest Rick for Bradford’s murder.”
“Not if the poison took two hours to work. He was only here with the guy for about an hour.”
“I forgot about that. Bummer.”
***
Between finishing up at the restaurant and meeting with the cops I had time to go home and check on King Henry. He met me at the door, wound around my legs, purred and did his suck-up routine, then led me to his food bowl.
I dumped in more nuggets and left him eating contentedly while I took the flashlight and went to the basement. I paused at the top of the steps and looked back at him to see how he’d react to my venture, if he’d show any concern that I was going downstairs where the monster lived. Nothing on his mind but food.
I headed straight for the furnace room, went inside and pulled the chain in the center of the room to turn on the light.
Yuck!
Coal dust was everywhere, but not in a smooth layer as if it had settled there over the past year of my neglect. Certainly Henry accounted for some of the disturbance, but not all of it. Another critter had definitely been there. A whole herd of critters, judging from the mess.
Walking through that mess and probably ruining my favorite pair of sneakers, I moved over to the boarded up coal chute. I had no idea how many years the boards had been there. The black dust had probably permeated to their centers.
I held the light close and examined the cracks between the thick boards. The wood had warped very little over the years, and the largest space was about a quarter inch. Mice seemed to be able to slide through holes much smaller than their bodies, so perhaps this was where our nighttime intruder entered. If so, it couldn’t be anything bigger than a mouse.
I grasped the structure and tried to shake it. It held firm.
I was being paranoid, getting all freaked out about a little mouse. A very little mouse, judging from the size of the crack.
Nevertheless, I made a cursory examination of the blackened stone walls and found no more open spaces. The red brick floor looked as though it had been through an earthquake, but that was to be expected with the shifting of the black clay soil in the area. The floor had been laid directly on the dirt with no mortar between the bricks. Probably a snug fit when it was done a hundred years ago.
A few bricks in the far corner of the room appeared to be even more disturbed, as if they’d lifted from their places then been pushed down again. I leaned over and studied the area carefully. Some of the black stuff appeared to be dirt rather than coal dust. Did mice dig? They had claws, so I supposed they could, and so could Henry. I’d seen the damage he could do to a tree trunk when he sharpened his claws. It was possible he’d dug up some dirt from between the bricks in an effort to reach whatever creature was in there last night.
I straightened and looked around. It was a creepy room, a filthy room, and there were probably lots of mice who came in to keep the spiders company.
I looked around at the spider webs. The only ones in this room were up high in the corners. Nothing at person-height. That was odd.
Something brushed against my leg. I screamed. My flashlight crashed to the floor and winked out. I ran toward the open door, taking advantage of the flight rather than the fight option.
A distinctive meow stopped me. I turned back to see Henry examining the dead flashlight.
I clutched my chest. “Henry! What are you doing down here? You almost caused me to have a heart attack!”
He regarded me serenely.
I went over, jerked the chain to turn off the light, snatched up the flashlight and my cat and stalked back upstairs.
Along with an exterminator, I needed a more sensitive cat.
***
I only had to wait about five minutes at the police station before Trent came out to get me. He had a file folder in his hand and a scowl on his chiseled face. The scowl didn’t necessarily mean anything bad. He just had to keep up with the other cops, show he didn’t flunk Scowling 101.
I smiled at him. “In that suit and tie, you look official, almost like a cop.”
He gave me a quick, unofficial grin. “In those tight jeans and that red blouse, you look like a woman who’s got a hot date.”
I turned to give him a glimpse of the rhinestones on my back pockets. I was dressed in my best. I’d even put on a clean pair of sneakers.
“How am I supposed to conduct an official interview when my mind is going to be on your sparkly butt?” he whispered.
I smiled, shrugged and tried to look innocent.
Trent reached for me, and for a moment I thought he was going to give me a hug right there in the police station.
Instead he lifted a white hair off my shirt.
“Henry likes to mark me before I leave home,” I said. “Doesn’t want me taking up with any other cats.”
Trent rolled his eyes and motioned with the folder that I should go down the hall.
The room to which he directed me was small and grim and held only a scarred wooden table and uncomfortable wooden chairs. I sat in one. Trent took the seat across from me and laid the folder between us.
I looked up at the wall opposite me. “One way mirror?”
He nodded.
I grinned. “Kinky.”
He has great eyes, brown with hints of green like the trees in early spring. Those eyes widened and became brighter with more green. He blushed and lowered his gaze to the table but not before I saw a trace of a smile.
The door opened, and a tall, thin man with immaculate iron gray hair, a perfectly fitted suit and a stern expression entered. Gerald Lawson. He and Trent worked together often, and he was a devout fan of my chocolate.
“Detective Lawson,” I greeted. “I’m delighted you could join us. I hear you’ve been talking to my evil ex. Did you lock him up?”
He slid onto the chair next to the door and ignored my attempt to get information out of him. “Trent said you were bringing cookies.”
I shook my head and sighed. “You men. All you want from a girl is chocolate chip cookies.”
Without any change in expression, Lawson nodded. “With nuts.”
“With nuts,” I affirmed and lifted a canvas bag onto the table.
I’m working on converting the entire police force from donuts to cookies. It may not be any healthier for them, but it will be
better for my business.
“Tell me about the incident in front of your restaurant yesterday,” Lawson requested.
“You mean the incident where a man dropped dead in front of me?”
Lawson didn’t blink. “That would be the incident.” One of these days, I’m going to break him.
I lifted my hands, palms upward. “We were talking, and he dropped dead. That’s all I can tell you.”
“What were you talking about?”
“My house. He wanted to buy my house. My ex is a real estate agent, and he brought this Bradford guy in to try to talk me into selling.”
“Your ex is in commercial real estate. Your house is not commercial property. Why was he working this deal?”
“You’ll have to ask him.” I was pretty sure he already had.
“So you told Mr. Bradford that you didn’t want to sell your house?”
I shrugged. “I had no idea he’d take rejection so badly.”
I thought I saw a hint of a smile, but that could have been wishful thinking on my part. “He offered you twice what your house is worth?”
“If you already know all this, why are you asking me?”
“It’s called taking a statement. We don’t know your side of the story officially until you tell us.”
“My side of the story?” I leaned across the table. “My side is the only side! What’s Rick been telling you? He brought that ex-con into my restaurant, and the man tried to buy my house for twice what it’s worth. When I refused, he dropped dead. That’s the whole story.”
Trent and Lawson exchanged glances.
“How do you know he’s an ex-con?” Lawson asked quietly.
I had no idea what illegal database Fred had hacked into in order to obtain that information. I valued that trait in him, would probably need it in the future, so I wasn’t about to sell him out. “Oh, for goodness sake, you can find anything on the internet.” That was a true statement.
“Some people can find anything on the internet,” Trent said. “You have trouble finding your own Facebook page.”
“I may have trouble, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it. What difference does it make where I found out about Bradford’s prison history?”
Trent folded his hands on the table. “Everything matters when we’re investigating a murder.”
I couldn’t see myself all that well in the kinky mirror, but I’m pretty sure I went pale around my freckles. “You’re not investigating me, are you? I never met that man before yesterday!”
“You told the 911 operator that you thought you killed him.”
I threw my hands into the air. “Oh, for crying out loud! Does everybody in the county know about that stupid phone call? I was freaked out! I thought maybe he was allergic to nuts!”
Trent nodded. He knew me, knew I wasn’t guilty, but the look on his face made me question my own innocence. I could see him getting a perp to confess just by giving him that look.
“Why do you think he wanted your house so badly that he got your ex to act as his agent and offered you twice what it’s worth?” Lawson asked.
“I have no idea.” I didn’t volunteer my theory that it was to get close to Fred.
We went through the entire incident in graphic, boring detail again, “for the record.” I’d been looking forward to the chance to be with Trent, but this was not my idea of a fun date. Maybe next time we could schedule a visit to the dentist for matching root canals.
Finally with all the questions answered at least twice, it seemed to be over.
Lawson and Trent exchanged glances again, and Lawson gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
Trent shifted a little in his chair and met my gaze full on. Did I mention he has gorgeous eyes? I could get lost in those eyes. “Lindsay, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“About Rick.” He sounded tentative. Adam Trent never sounds tentative.
“Yes?”
“Did you know he was seeing Bradford’s wife?”
“What?!” I shot to my feet. I don’t know why it surprised me that Rick was dating a married woman. It had never bothered him to date other women while we were married. But dating a woman who was married to his ex-convict client seemed to take the whole cheating thing to new heights.
“I take that as a no.”
I sighed and sat back down, fervently wishing I’d never heard of Rick Kramer. Don’t ask me to explain why I ever married such a creep in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, dying my hair bright blue the day before my senior prom also seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Yes,” I said, “that’s a no. I don’t keep up with Rick’s women. Does this make Rick a suspect?”
“All I can say is that Rick’s a person of interest.”
“He’s really not, you know.”
Trent arched a dubious eyebrow. “You believe he’s innocent?”
“Of the murder? Oh, probably. He might kill for money or power but not for a woman. He’s not capable of that kind of passion for a woman. But that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying he’s not a person of interest. He’s actually pretty boring when you get to know him.”
Trent almost laughed. The lines at the corners of his eyes lifted. Lawson remained impassive, of course.
“Can I still get a divorce if Rick goes to prison?”
Trent shrugged. “Yeah. Probably make it easier.”
At least the interview ended on a positive note.
Chapter Five
After the official stuff was finished, I followed Trent to a pizza place where we pigged out on a huge pizza with lots of pepperoni. One cannot live on chocolate alone. Trust me. I’ve tried.
As we sat in the crowded, noisy restaurant savoring the smells and flavors, I made a joke about my middle-of-the-night adventure. “There I was, armed with a rolling pin, following my psycho cat into the basement, chasing a mouse.” I laughed then took another bite of pizza and waited for Trent to laugh, to make light of the entire episode, to assure me I was being silly so I could quit feeling weird about it.
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile as he slowly lowered his piece of pizza to his plate, his eyes never leaving my face. “Lindsay, you need to know about this little service we have in town. If you hear noises in the night, you can punch in three numbers on your phone, 911, and a big brave cop with a gun instead of a rolling pin will come and investigate. It’s been known to save lives.”
“Save lives? I had no idea you’d be so worried about a mouse. But you don’t need to be concerned. Even if I’d found the little critter, my aim is so bad, I wouldn’t have been able to hit him with that rolling pin.”
Trent looked across the room then back to me and shook his head. “You’re dating…I mean, seeing…I mean…whatever it is we’re doing. You’re involved with a cop, but you don’t think to call one when something scary happens in the middle of the night?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing scary happened! You’re overreacting. If I called 911 about something like that, I can just hear your buddies when you came in to work the next morning. Hey, Trent, got a call to Lindsay’s house last night! Seems she had a mouse B&E. We put handcuffs on him, but his arms were so little, they slipped right out!”
Trent lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Have it your way. But I was there a few months ago when they were pumping your stomach because somebody broke into your house and tried to kill you.”
That memory had certainly crossed my mind last night, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “That was Paula’s psycho ex. He’s in prison, and nobody’s been breaking into my house lately.”
Trent nodded. “Fine.” He lifted his pizza and resumed eating. So did I.
“I should probably get a gun,” I said after a couple of bites of silence.
“Probably not.”
We ate some more.
“You could teach me to shoot,” I said.
“Probably not.”
; “I could take a class.”
Trent swallowed his last bite of pizza, drank the last of his soda, and wiped his hands on a napkin. “That’s not a bad idea.”
I hadn’t expected that response.
“As soon as you’re divorced from Rick, I’ll help you find a gun and a class.”
“Why do I have to wait until I’m divorced from Rick-head?”
“So you don’t lose your temper and shoot him.”
“He deserves shooting.”
“Yes, he does, but if you get sent to prison, that’s going to put a real damper on our spending time together.”
He had a point. Still, I’d love to see Rick’s face if he came to my door and I greeted him with a .357 Magnum. Do you feel lucky, Rick? Well, do you? Go ahead. Make my day.
“Stop fantasizing about killing Rick, finish your pizza, and let’s go to your house.”
Trent followed me home. I put my car in my stylishly angled garage and we walked over to the porch. I let Henry out to join us since Trent’s his buddy. After Henry wound around my legs and Trent’s, he left to patrol his territory. I have no idea how far his territory ranges, but I haven’t seen another cat in the area since Henry arrived.
I sat down in the porch swing. It was a beautiful night with a spectacular moon, and Trent is a spectacular kisser. “Want to make out?”
He turned to me, the moonlight shadows settling into concerned lines on his face. I sighed. We probably weren’t going to make out.
“Yes,” he said. “After we check your basement.”
Oh, well, if that was all it took. “Sure. Come on. I just hope you weren’t planning to wear those clothes ever again because you’ll never be able to get them clean.”
“You don’t even want to know some of the places these clothes have been.”
He was right. I didn’t.
We trekked through the house and down the stairs to the furnace room. I turned on the overhead bulb, and Trent produced a large, deadly looking flashlight. It lit up the room like the sun and looked at least as effective as a rolling pin in terms of a weapon.
Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 02 - Murder, Lies & Chocolate Page 4