by Kate Bell
--10--
“Do you think Sam will be around?” I asked Alec as we drove to the police station. I had a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in my lap and the smell was making me hungry. I had just eaten an enormous bowl of oatmeal, but chocolate was hard for me to resist.
“I’m betting he won’t be there on a Saturday morning. Sam was never one for putting in more time than was absolutely necessary at work,” he said. “Hand me one of those cookies, will you?”
“Those are for the boys,” I said, lifting up the edge of the plastic wrap and pulling one out anyway. It was so moist, it bent over when I picked it up.
“Hazard pay,” he said, taking it from me. “Now that’s fresh.” He popped the whole thing into his mouth and moaned.
“I take it you approve?” I asked. “We have got to step up our running. That marathon will be here before you know it and all I’ve been doing is eating.”
Alec finished chewing and swallowed. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but you might want to lay off the sweets.” The wicked grin on his face made me punch him in the shoulder and he laughed.
“I need to test each and every dessert I bake. It isn’t my fault,” I said. “Plus, I need to check out the competition’s wares.” I cringed when I said it. Just thinking about Le Chemise made me feel sick.
Alec pulled into the parking lot at the police station and parked in the spot nearest the front door. I grabbed my coffee from the cup holder and we headed in.
George and Yancey were sitting at the front desk, peering at the computer screen.
“Hey, Alec, Allie,” Yancey said, quickly toggling to another computer screen. I was just able to catch sight of a screen full of football jerseys before he did. “What are you two up to?”
“I promised you two some cookies, and I never go back on a promise,” I said, setting the plate on the front counter.
“Allie, you are a gem,” George said, lifting the plastic wrap and grabbing a cookie.
“Those smell wonderful,” Yancey said, following George’s lead.
Yancey groaned when he bit into a cookie. “These are the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever eaten.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” I said. “You do know I’ve got my pies and cakes and whatnot at Henry’s every day, right?”
He nodded. “I bought a piece of cherry pie the other day. It was fantastic.”
“Good,” I said with a smile. Hearing that people loved my baking always made my day.
“Yancey, can I use the computer system to take a look at a couple of people?” Alec asked.
“Well,” Yancey said, thinking about it. “You know how Sam is. He would have a fit if he knew I let you.”
“How about you do the search and I sit next to you while you do it? Then you won’t actually have done anything against the rules,” he said, giving him a big grin.
“Well, I guess that would be okay,” Yancey said, nodding.
Alec went behind the counter and sat in the chair Yancey offered him.
“Let’s look up Meg Cranston, Jenna Maples, and our victim Spencer Cranston. None of them have been in town long and I’m wondering if they have records of any kind.”
Yancey started tapping on the keyboard, then paused. Alec had his notebook and pen out.
“Hmm,” Yancey said.
“Jenna has a parking ticket,” Alec said, looking at me.
“Scandalous,” I said, leaning over the counter and standing on tiptoes so I could see the computer screen.
Yancey started typing again.
“I’m not seeing anything remarkable,” he said.
“Not a thing,” Alec said, leaning back in his chair. “It seems like there would be something.”
“Are you able to see out of state records?” I asked.
Alec nodded. “Yes, we can. There’s nothing on any of them. Yancey, what about fingerprints in the vehicle?”
“Just the victim and his wife’s. There were some that were incomplete ones, but those were useless.”
“So what do we know? The victim was strangled with a nylon cord, his wife thought he was cheating on her with a woman that claims to not know him and that’s about it?” he asked.
Yancey nodded. “That’s about it.”
“How did his wife seem when she was told her husband was dead?” I asked.
George shrugged. “Grief stricken. Just the way you’d expect. If she thought he was having an affair, then it didn’t cancel out the shock and grief at finding out he was dead.”
“Maybe she followed him to Jenna’s house and sneaked into the car and killed him in a rage,” I suggested.
“Possible, but not probable. If she were going to follow him anyway, why hire me to follow him? He would have noticed her car following him,” Alec said.
Mr. Pragmatic. I needed him to be a little wilder on the imagination side.
“What if Jenna climbed into the backseat of his car and did it?” Yancey suggested. “Maybe she had something against him and wanted to do him in, but didn’t want him dead in her house.”
“If that’s what happened, she has a heck of a poker face,” I said.
“A lot of killers do,” Alec said. “But it seems like if she were that concerned with not doing it in her house, she wouldn’t have done it across the street, either.”
“And someone had some skills to kill him that way,” George pointed out.
“Hey, Yancey, look up Phil Jones. Do any of you know him?” Alec asked.
Yancey began typing, then waited.
“I think I’ve seen him at the grocery store a time or two,” George said, peering at the computer screen. “I don’t know for sure. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t swear where I’ve seen him before.”
Yancey tapped on the keyboard again and read. He shrugged. “Clean.”
“I’m going to make a phone call,” Alec said and got up, heading to a nearby office.
I sighed. “So what have you boys been up to lately?” I asked.
“Freezing, mostly,” George said.
“That makes two of us,” I said.
“Hey, have either of you been to Le Chemise? That new French restaurant? I took my wife there a couple of weeks ago and it was just about the best food I’ve ever eaten,” Yancey said.
I groaned and put my head down on the front counter.
“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked.
I lifted my head off the counter. “That place is the bane of my existence. They opened at the same time I decided to start selling desserts at Henry’s.”
“You shouldn’t worry about that, Allie. Everyone knows you have the best desserts around,” George said.
“I don’t know. I had a piece of chocolate cake at Le Chemise and it was so moist, I could hardly believe it,” Yancey said.
I groaned again. “Thanks, Yancey.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Allie. But you know George is right. People know you. They love your pies and cakes. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, trying to make myself believe it.
I tried not to worry about it, but I was becoming obsessed. I needed to come up with a plan to lure people back to Henry’s. There was no way Cynthia was going to be able to stay in business if things didn’t turn around.
I needed to think of a solution. Maybe we could include dessert with some of Cynthia’s more expensive dinners. It would entice people to spend more money. People obviously didn’t have a problem spending a lot of money, in spite of what I had thought they would spend. They were still flocking to Le Chemise, after all. If we included dessert with dinner, Cynthia would still only need to pay me for what was used. Dessert could still be ala cart as well. I made a mental note to talk it over with her.
After several minutes had gone by, Alec emerged from the office.
“Well?” I asked.
“I called a buddy of mine with the State Department. Phil Jones was special ops personnel in the eighties.”
“What?” I asked. “That little guy? Don’t they have height requirements?”
He shrugged. “Hard to believe, but that’s what my buddy said.”
“What kind of special ops?” Yancey asked.
“He said that was classified information and he didn’t know it himself,” Alec said.
“Anything on the others?” I asked.
“Not a thing,” he said.
“Huh. I guess this is an instance of appearances being deceiving,” I said, thinking about Phil.
Alec nodded.
Things were getting interesting in this case.
--11--
“Well, what do you know?” Alec asked, looking at his phone. It was Sunday afternoon and we were spending it lazing around. The skies were gray yet again and we were binge watching old black and white musicals featuring long gone Hollywood stars and starlets. We had a bowl of popcorn between us and were snuggled beneath fuzzy throws. I loved days like this.
“What?” I asked, but he answered the phone before I got it out.
“Hello?” he said. He was quiet a minute. “I’ll see what I can do.” He hit end and looked at me. “Care to go for a quick drive?”
“Sure. Where to?”
“Phil Jones’s house. He says he’s having neighbor troubles with a certain Jenna Maples. Seems her music is too loud.”
“Why is he calling you about that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I almost told him to call the police, but then I thought it might be nice to drop by and see what’s going on. He sounded distressed. And since we’re being invited, he can’t very well say we’re harassing him.”
“That’s true. Maybe we can get inside his house. There might be clues there,” I suggested.
“You do like to get inside people’s houses, don’t you?” he pointed out, stood up and stretched. “That fire does feel good though. Maybe we should just stick around here.”
“Oh, no you don’t, we’re going to pay Phil a friendly visit. And maybe Jenna, too,” I said, heading to the closet for my coat. He was right. I did like getting inside people’s houses. How else would I get to know them?
***
When we got out of the car, the neighborhood was quiet. We headed up Phil’s walk, and still couldn’t hear anything coming from any of the nearby houses. I glanced at Alec as he knocked on the door. Frito went mad from inside the house at the sound of knocking. I didn’t know how Phil could stand all that barking. I had yet to get a look at the animal, but he sounded part Chihuahua and part raging bull. My head would be throbbing all the time if I had to listen to that everyday.
When no one came to the door after several minutes, Alec knocked again. The knock was much louder this time, and I wondered if it could be heard over the barking Frito.
After several more minutes, the door slowly creaked open and Phil poked his nose out through the crack. “Yes?”
“Mr. Jones, it’s Alec and Allie. You called with a complaint about your neighbor?” Alec nearly shouted.
“Yes?” Phil repeated.
Alec leaned in closer to the door and shouted again. “We came because of your complaint of noise?”
“Uh, oh, yes,” Phil shouted back. “Hold on.”
Phil opened the door a crack wider, and squeezed his ample body through it as if he were made of silly putty, able to meld and mold himself to a much thinner shape. I watched wide-eyed, willing myself not to look at Alec.
He kicked back at Frito with his leg still inside the door then, pulled it through and closed the door behind him. His fringe of black hair stood at odd angles, looking as if it had been ages since it had been combed. He turned to face us and we took a step back to give him room.
“Sorry, Frito get’s excited when there are, uh, visitors,” he said, running a hand over his hair. “Shut up, Frito!”
The dog stopped barking and went to growling. At least he was obedient.
“Mr. Jones, I don’t hear any music coming from next door,” Alec said.
“Oh, that’s because she turned it down. She must have known you were coming,” he said, glancing in Jenna’s direction. “You know how sneaky some people can be.” He whispered the last part and looked in her direction again.
“I see,” Alec said slowly. “Mr. Jones, we were wondering if you had heard anything new or remembered anything about the night the man was found murdered across the street near the park?”
Phil’s eyes got big. “Oh. No. I completely forgot about that. Who was it that was murdered?”
“Spencer Cranston,” Alec said. “Did you know him?”
Phil shook his head and his eyes went wide again. “Oh, no. No, I didn’t know him. I’ve never heard of him.”
“Okay, well, we appreciate that,” Alec said.
“But I’ll tell you something,” he whispered, leaning in toward Alec.
“Yes?” Alec asked.
“I don’t trust that Miss Maples. She’s up to something,” he said, nodding his head.
“And why do you think that?” Alec asked.
“Just a hunch,” he said. “And she called my Frito a mongrel. He’s a pure bred Chihuahua!”
Alec sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. We’ll be in touch.”
“But aren’t you going to do something about her music?” he asked.
“There’s no music now, Mr. Jones,” Alec said over his shoulder as we headed for the car.
I knew Alec was irritated. But you couldn’t blame Phil. He had called and reported his neighbor for loud music, just like Alec had suggested.
I poked Alec’s arm. “Cheer up, buttercup,” I whispered.
“You’ll talk to her, won’t you?” Phil called again as we walked down the sidewalk toward Alec’s car.
“Yes, we’ll talk to her,” he said, changing his mind and we made a detour toward Jenna’s house. A drop of rain hit my nose and I shivered, looking up. The sky had turned nearly to black and I wanted to get home and back in front of the fireplace again.
Alec knocked sharply on Jenna’s door.
“Smile,” I hissed as the door opened. Jenna was just as pretty as the first time I had seen her. I wondered if she had gone out earlier or if she always did her hair and makeup, even if she was staying home.
“Hi,” she said with a smile.
“Hello, Miss Maples,” Alec said. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we had a complaint of loud music.”
Jenna poked her head out and turned to look at Phil, still standing on his front step. When he saw her looking at him, he popped back into his house at a speed that seemed impossible for such a little, portly man.
“Don’t tell me. My neighbor complained?” she asked tilting her head and smiling, displaying perfect white teeth. Her parents must have spent a mint to get them that perfect.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Alec said apologetically.
She sighed. “You don’t have to tell me. I already know the drill. He’s a nutty little man and for some reason, I’m his target.”
“Oh? Has he caused you any trouble?” Alec asked.
“Not really. It’s just that annoying dog of his. But he did call the police once during the summer when I left my door open to let a breeze in and I had the television on. He claimed it was turned on at full volume and that I was doing it on purpose to annoy him,” she said and shrugged. “I guess it could be worse. I could have neighbors that partied all night.”
“That’s true,” I said, nodding. “You never know what you’re going to get when you move to a new neighborhood.”
“Since we’re here, Miss Maples, I was wondering, did you remember anything unusual about that night or early morning when the body was found across the street?” Alec asked.
“No, not a thing. Um, who did you say it was that died?” she asked.
“I didn’t say, but it was Spencer Cranston. Did you know him?” Alec asked.
Her forehead wrinkled up in thought. “The name sounds a little familiar, but no, I can’t say that
I ever met him. It’s a shame he was murdered though. I hate to hear about things like that.”
I peered at her, watching her closely, but if she had known Spencer, it didn’t show in her face. I was beginning to think Meg Cranston had been paranoid about her husband’s activities. But if that was true, what had he been doing in this neighborhood?
“Well, if you think of something else, you’ll let us know, right?” Alec asked.
“Oh, of course,” she said.
We said our goodbyes and headed back to Alec’s car.
“Do you believe her?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I believe either of them, but I don’t know that there’s a reason not to.”
“It’s funny that he was found in the neighborhood of the woman that his wife swore he was having an affair with, if he wasn’t really having an affair with her,” I pointed out.
“That’s the truth,” he answered. “But his wife hasn’t been able to come up with any real evidence of the affair. Maybe he was having an affair, but it was with someone else.”
I nodded. “I need hot cocoa,” I said as the sky opened up and rain poured down. We got into the car and headed for my nice warm fireplace.
--12--
Monday morning Lucy and I headed over to the Cup and Bean for a steaming hot latte. Yesterday’s rain had turned to ice and the clouds hadn’t completely cleared up. I had skipped running outside in favor of the treadmill that morning. Even with running shoes made for snow and ice, I still had my issues staying upright when everything was so completely frozen over. The day felt cold and dreary and I thought a mocha latte was just the thing I needed to feel human again.
“So what’s this I hear about Alec getting an office? Ed ran into Alec at the gas station and he told him he rented an office,” Lucy said as we took our drinks to a table.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about that. We were going to take a look at it the other day, but the building manager never showed up,” I said, taking the lid off my coffee and inhaling the sweet wonder that is a mocha latte. “Alec’s excited about it, but he says it’s going to take some work to get it in shape.”