Caramel Cream & Murder

by Susan Gillard

  “The killer didn’t try and hide the murder weapon,” Heather noted.

  “Maybe he was shocked by what he did and just dropped it without thinking,” suggested Peters. “Or maybe he didn’t think it could be tied back to him and didn’t care if it was left behind.”

  “Of course, if we can trace where the brick came from, we might be able to use it to find the killer,” said Heather. “Bricks can be distinctive.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to help us find the killer,” Amy said.

  “Why not?” asked Ryan.

  “Because anyone could have picked it up,” said Amy. She pointed down the street toward one of the neighboring shops.

  Heather squinted. It was dark, but she could make it out. There was a store selling lawn and gardening supplies. There was a wall of bricks enclosing some plants, but it looked as if some of the bricks had already fallen away.

  Heather nodded. “Good find. Unfortunately, that means that almost anyone could be the killer. It could be premeditated, or the killer could have grabbed the brick immediately before the murder.”

  She scanned the rest of the area. There were small things on the ground that would have to be analyzed. She could definitely make out some cigarette butts. They would need to determine what was trash that had escaped from the restaurant dumpster and strewn by passersby, and what was trash that could be related to the crime.

  The medical examiner arrived on the scene, calling out a greeting to the detectives. Ryan responded and then turned to his wife.

  “We’re going to talk to him about the body for a little bit. But it doesn’t seem like Amy is in the mood for that.”

  Heather nodded. “I don’t think she is. Maybe we’ll have a few words with the man who found the body?”

  Ryan agreed with the suggestion. Peters told them where Cubby and Mr. Bailey were waiting, and Heather and her friend went over to talk to them.

  A balding middle-aged man and his very furry dog looked up at them as they approached.

  “Mr. Bailey?”

  “What about him?” the man asked.

  “We’d like to talk to you,” said Heather.

  The man hugged his small dog to his chest. “He ate something by the dead man when I was distracted, didn’t he? He’s going to die, isn’t he? I can’t live without him. He’s my best friend.”

  “We’d just like to talk to you about what you found,” Heather said. “Is that all right, Mr. Bailey?”

  “Why are you asking him?” said the man. “He’s not a therapy dog.”

  Heather realized what was going on and tried not to laugh at the silly situation inside the more serious one.

  “Your dog’s name is Mr. Bailey,” she said.

  “That’s right. And I’m Cubby.”

  “That seems backward to me,” Amy said. “But what do I know these days?”

  “Is Mr. Bailey okay?” asked Cubby.

  “We didn’t see anything at the scene that looks like it was disturbed by a dog,” said Heather. “Is he acting normally?”

  “I think he’s bored that we’ve had to stay on this bench,” said Cubby. “But I guess the police might have more questions.”

  “We only have a few,” said Heather. “Can you take us through your night?”

  “Well, I like to take Mr. Bailey to the beach at night when we have trouble falling asleep.”

  “What time did you head out tonight?”

  “It was about eleven thirty. We headed to the beach down that way and then headed home. It was about midnight when I decided we should try and cut through the alley by the restaurant instead of heading all the way around the block. That’s when I saw that poor man and called the police.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual either time you passed by it?” asked Heather.

  “Besides the dead body,” added Amy.

  Cubby shook his head. “Both times the restaurant was dark. It didn’t look like anybody was there.”

  They asked a few more questions, but Cubby wasn’t able to add much more information. Heather suggested that if Cubby was still concerned about Mr. Bailey in the morning, he should take him to the vet for a checkup just in case. However, Heather didn’t think it was necessary. Mr. Bailey had become so bored that he fell asleep in his master’s arms.

  Heather, however, was far from bored. She was thinking about what Cubby had said about the lights being out both times that he walked by the restaurant and that the bistro closed at ten p.m. If both of those things were true, what was the victim doing there at midnight?

  Trash or Clues?

  The next morning, Heather brought Caramel Cream Donuts over to the police station. She and Amy had been out late, but Ryan and Peters had been up most of the night, processing the trash/clues at the crime scene. Heather had been asleep when Ryan finally came home, but they both woke up at the same time in the morning. Heather promised to join her sleepy husband at the station to hear about what he had discovered during the night right after she sent Lilly off to school.

  Heather handed the two detectives a donut each, and they pronounced them the perfect complement to the large mugs of coffee they were imbibing. She picked up a donut too. She wanted to enjoy the taste before they discussed any of the grisly details of the case.

  Amy soon joined them at the station. She grabbed a donut from the box and began chomping on it before she said hello.

  “Sorry,” she said. “It’s good to see you all. I just had a stressful morning. Josh and Jamie are going over their plans for the proposal, and they’re getting more and more outlandish. They were discussing bungee jumping when I left them.”

  “That doesn’t seem very romantic,” Heather said, frowning.

  “And it seems dangerous to me,” said Amy. “Josh better not hurt my someday-future-husband with his proposal plan.”

  “I can’t tell if I’m too tired for this to make sense or if it just doesn’t make sense,” Peters said slowly. “Who is getting married? Why is there bungee jumping? And what does this have to do with the case?”

  “You were right with the second idea,” said Amy. “It just doesn’t make sense. Why is Josh proposing so soon after meeting her?”

  “He’s in love?” asked Peters.

  “Not you too,” Amy said, turning to him and placing her hands on her hips.

  Peters held his hand that wasn’t holding a donut up in the air. “I really have no idea what is going on.”

  “Why don’t we discuss the case?” Heather suggested. “And we can focus just on the facts.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Ryan said. He took one more sip of coffee and took out his notebook to consult it. “We found a lot of things at the crime scene last night. However, at the moment, we’re not sure how useful any of it is.”

  “You can say that again,” Peters said. “Do you know how many cigarette butts I picked up last night?”

  “Nope,” Amy said simply.

  “Ninety-eight,” Peters said, groaning. “I had to bag and tag each one individually in case there was DNA on any of them. There were so many of them, and I hated having to collect them all. But when I was finished, I found myself wishing there were two more so it would be an even hundred.”

  He rubbed his hand across his forehead as if he were trying to erase the memory of the tedious night after a terrible crime was committed. Heather told him he was welcome to another donut if he wanted one.

  “Did someone say donuts?” a voice asked.

  Chief Chet bounced happily into the room and headed directly to the box of donuts. He was a laid-back chief of police who insisted that everyone call him by his first name. He was only stressed very rarely. Though he did care about keeping his island safe, he felt confident that his team of officers was up to the task. He was very proud of how efficiently the crimes had been solved in town. He was also very happy that those helping with the investigations often brought sweets to the station.

  “What flavor is this? Something with caramel?
” he asked.

  “Good investigative work,” Amy teased.

  “This is the Caramel Cream Donut,” Heather explained. “And I think everyone deserves one after all the hard work they did late last night.”

  “I agree,” Chief Chet said, taking a donut for himself, even though he had not been there himself. “And police chiefs deserve one too.”

  “We were just discussing what we found at the crime scene,” Ryan said.

  “Yes. I’d like to hear all about that,” Chief Chet said with a full mouth. He swallowed and continued. “I heard Peters collected a hundred cigarette butts there.”

  “Only ninety-eight,” Peters said, dully.

  “I didn’t think smoking was that popular anymore,” said Amy.

  “They might have built up over a period of time,” said Heather, thinking aloud. “The killer definitely couldn’t have left all of them there that night just from smoking and waiting for Chris Henderson.”

  “But if the killer did smoke one that night and left it there,” said Amy. “Then, it could be a clue.”

  “That’s why I bagged them all,” said Peters.

  “What else did you find?” asked Heather.

  “Some napkins and bottle tops,” said Ryan. “We did find a barrette.”

  “Like for someone’s hair?” asked Amy.

  “That’s right,” said Ryan. “And it was right next to the body.”

  “That certainly sounds like it has potential to belong to the killer,” said Heather. “Any chance there was a piece of hair stuck to it.”

  “There was,” Ryan said. “We’re having the DNA analyzed to see if it matches anyone in the system. Maybe this killer committed a crime before.”

  “It’s a barrette, the killer is most likely a woman,” Heather said.

  “If you found a clue next to the body with DNA on it, why didn’t you tell us right away?” Amy asked. “Why did you let us waste so much time listening about Peters’ under a hundred cigarette butts?”

  “I worked really hard collecting them all,” Peters said, defensively. “And there could be a clue there too.”

  “Everyone did a very fine job processing the scene,” Chief Chet said. “Finding those little odds and ends that could be clues, and finding the murder weapon too.”

  “The brick was definitely the murder weapon?” Heather asked.

  Ryan nodded. “We’re doing tests to make it conclusive by testing the blood, but the medical examiner confirmed that the wound was consistent with the brick’s shape. There was hair on the brick too that matches the victim.”

  “Great,” Amy said. “All we need now are some suspects.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find them,” Chief Chet said. “You always know how to solve cases. I have a problem I wish I knew how to solve.”

  He took another donut as Heather asked what was wrong.

  “I’m afraid my little brother is up to mischief again,” Chief Chet said. “You know how he gets himself into little scrapes. Well, he was supposed to come over for dinner last night, but he canceled. He rarely cancels. He loves my wife’s cooking and to see his niece and nephew. He only cancels when he’s up to something. And I’m afraid he’s up to something.”

  The investigators all held their tongues. They knew that the chief’s little brother was often involved with illicit activities on the island. He had never committed a murder or engaged in violent activities, but he wasn’t above gambling or theft. However, it had always been hard to convince Chief Chet that his baby brother was up to no good. They needed concrete proof to convict him of anything, and Big CC was too weaselly to let them find the evidence. The situation was also complicated because Big CC could be charming at times, and had given them information to help them solve other cases.

  Heather exchanged a look with the others in the room. If Chief Chet finally admitted that Big CC was up to something, maybe they could stop him from his illegal activities.

  “What do you think he’s up to?” Heather asked carefully.

  “Who knows?” Chief Chet said, sighing. “It could be anything. Maybe he’s even seeing a woman that he doesn’t want to introduce to us.”

  Heather nodded without giving her thoughts on the matter. It seemed that the chief wasn’t ready to believe too much ill towards his baby brother.

  They heard someone approaching and turned from the donuts to face the small man who entered the station.

  “Hello,” he said. “I’ve come here to talk about… the murder.”

  The Bistro Boss

  They invited the small man to sit down, and he accepted. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and swabbed his face.

  “I’m sorry to be out of sorts like this. I made sure I marched down to the station this morning because I was sure you’d want to talk to me, but it has been emotional for me. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to react like normal people. When I become upset, it’s the same reaction as if I’m stressed. I start to sweat. People would tease me about it.”

  Peters took a swig of coffee to prepare himself mentally for the interview. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

  “And not talk about sweat anymore,” suggested Amy.

  “Who are you? And what is your relationship to the victim?” asked Peters.

  “I’m sorry. How silly of me not to introduce myself. I’m Mr. Oldsway. Barry Oldsway. And I’m Chris’s boss. I mean, I was his boss.”

  “You run the Beachcomber Bistro?” asked Heather.

  “Proud owner for thirty years,” he replied. “And they’ve been good years. I’ve never had anything terrible like this happen before. Maybe a few odd complaints about this or that, but never a death.”

  “How long did Chris Henderson work for you?” Ryan asked.

  “Eight years,” said Mr. Oldsway. “He was a good waiter. He dealt with customers well and was such a kind young man. I’m going to miss him. I hate that this happened at the bistro.”

  “Did he work last night?” asked Peters.

  Mr. Oldsway wiped his brow. “Yes. He did. My seasonal employees just left because spring break ended. I’m back to my staff of three, and they were all there last night as we readjusted to the usual schedule. We closed at ten. It wasn’t very busy late at night. We were all cleaned up by quarter after. We all left together.”

  “Do you have any idea why Chris Henderson would have returned to the bistro that night?” asked Heather.

  Mr. Oldsway shook his head. “That was another reason why I was so surprised. I don’t understand why he was there that late.”

  “Could he have forgotten his keys or phone?” asked Peters.

  “Perhaps,” Mr. Oldsway said. “Though he didn’t have a key to get inside the bistro. Only Bruno and I have keys right now. I can check the bistro and see if anything of his was left behind. I haven’t had the courage to go there yet today.”

  “I can accompany you,” Peters said.

  “I’d really appreciate that, young man,” Mr. Oldsway said.

  Heather smiled at Peters. It was a great idea. He could be comforting to the older owner if he needed support, and Peters could also look around for clues.

  “Mr. Oldsway,” Ryan said. “Where did you go when you left work last night?”

  “I went home, and I was there all night. Our grandchildren are staying with my wife and I for a few more days. We have three of them in the house. I’m pretty sure my teenage grandson, Manny, played video games all night long.”

  Heather nodded. She didn’t think it was likely that Mr. Oldsway had killed his employee. He seemed very saddened by the death. He also didn’t seem like the type to use a brick to commit blunt force trauma, and being a good deal shorter than the victim would have made it more difficult as well. If his house was full of family members, especially one up all night, then they could provide an alibi for him.

  “Thank you for all your help,” Ryan said. “Detective Peters would be happy to take you to the bistro to look around inside.”

&nb
sp; Mr. Oldsway nodded and got to his feet. “So you know, I’ve decided to stay closed all day today as a sign of respect to Chris. We’re in mourning today. I suppose this will also give you the chance to talk to my employees if you’d like to. I brought their contact information to give you. Maybe Chris told them something that he didn’t want to tell his boss. Maybe it could be helpful.”

  They thanked Mr. Oldsway again and looked at the list he’d provided them. Detective Peters left with the bistro owner as the others considered who they wanted to question first: James, Tanya, or Bruno.

  “Well,” Heather said. “You did find a barrette. Why don’t we talk to Tanya?”

  “Wait,” Amy said, sighing. “You know there’s something we have to do before we talk to suspects.”

  Ring Shopping

  Amy sighed. “I think talking to potentially dangerous murderers would be more fun than this.”

  “Come on,” Heather said. “Don’t be so grumpy. You can point out rings you like. Then Jamie could know for the future.”

  They were looking at the display counters at a fancy jewelry store. Josh and Jamie were stopped by one counter, looking at the large shiny rings while the women were still wandering the store and examining all the options.

  “I’m not worried about Jamie picking out a ring for me if he wants to find one,” said Amy. “He knows me. I’m concerned Josh doesn’t know enough about his girlfriend to find the right ring. He doesn’t know her well.”

  “Ames, I’m a little concerned myself, but I’m not letting it consume me.”

  “Consume me?” Amy scoffed. “Nothing consumes me. I consume things. Like donuts and, well, other consumable things.”

  “This is what Josh wants to do. We should help him to do it.”

  “Even if it’s a mistake?”

  “We don’t know it’s a mistake,” said Heather. “We haven’t met even met Josie yet. The one thing we do know about her is that she makes him happy.”

  Amy sighed. “I don’t like that I’m the only one who seems against this. I don’t like being against proposals and weddings and love. But I do think rushing into this is a bad idea. I can’t pretend otherwise. And I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”