I shook my head. "No, I didn't." None of that had been in Chloe's kit. I didn't even know that Olive had a daughter, though it wasn't that surprising. She could have had eight of them for all I knew. But an argument with her daughter. Now, that was interesting.
And it was obviously important enough for the local news to be talking about. They hadn't mentioned my name at all. It seemed like the daughter, whoever she was, was now the prime suspect as far as the media was concerned. After that humiliating experience with Jackson earlier, I was starting to feel my own face return to its normal color.
Pippa was deep in thought. "But if Olive's daughter did it," she murmured, tapping her spoon against the bowl, making tiny little clanging noises. "How did she manage to get the poison into her food at the bakery?" She brought the spoon up to her chin and narrowed her eyes, deep in concentration as she tried to solve this puzzle.
"That's a very good question," I said. We were both silent for a moment. "But I'm sure if she wanted to, she could have."
For the dozenth time, I kicked myself for taking that break in the back that day. If only I'd been there, had seen what had happened with my own two eyes. Olive's daughter could have dropped by to see her mother while they were still getting settled, looking at the menu and asking if the water was bottled or tapped.
"Was Olive's daughter there that day?" Pippa asked. "I mean, could she have been?"
"No, I mean, I don't think so. All of Olive's dining companions were her age, or older. None of them were young enough to be her daughter. But the daughter could have dropped by while Chloe had her back turned. There were these two minutes or so, you see, where Chloe wasn't watching what was going on..."
I stopped when I saw that Pippa had her eyebrows raised. "What?" I asked.
"Just seems like you know more details of this case than you were letting on. It sounds like Chloe is heavily involved as well."
"She isn't. I just questioned her about a few things, that's all."
"Okay then," Pippa said, trying to sound breezy, but I could see the color leaving her face and she pushed her soup bowl away.
I could feel my phone buzzing in my pocket and I just knew it was Chloe. I took the phone call outside again and by the time I got back inside, Pippa was asleep.
Chloe was immaculately dressed, even at close to midnight. This time, we were taking her car, and I just hoped that the engine pulling up in front of the apartment wouldn't wake up Pippa. And if it did, that she wouldn't look out the window and see what I was up to. I was dressed head to toe in black, like a cat burglar, just to be on the safe side. Chloe was also dressed slickly in black and we looked like a real pair.
She turned the key and I cringed at how loud the engine was.
"Sorry, old car, it's all I can afford."
She pulled away from he curb and drove slowly into the night.
"So, where does Olive's daughter live then?" I asked. I'd gotten a little ahead of myself when I'd assumed Chloe knew nothing about the daughter. She might have known nothing until that evening, but since the news broadcast, Chloe had quickly done her research. The daughter's name was Angel, and she'd definitely been seen having a huge blow-up with her mom the night before the murder.
Chloe just stared at me even though she was driving. "She's a teenager. She still lives at home with her mom." Chloe's face turned red. "Well, I mean, she used to, before..."
"It's okay," I said. "I know what you meant. I took a deep breath. Poor girl. Angel must be feeling pretty devastated right about now. Having a fight with your mom the night before she dies, that can't be an easy thing to live with." Unless, of course, she had something to do with Olive's death. Then maybe it was a very easy thing to live with.
"And I assume that you have Olive Styles' address there in that kit of yours?" I asked.
"Well, yes," Chloe said, a little nervously. "Why?"
"Well, we're going to need it if we're going to stake the house out."
Chloe put her foot down on the brake and came to a sudden stop. Lucky the street was completely clear at that time of night. "You can't be serious, Rachael. Tell me that's not what we are doing."
"What did you think we were doing at this time of night?" I waved my hands over my outfit. "Especially dressed like this."
"I thought we were just going to go over the details of the case," Chloe said, her face as white as a ghost. "I don't know, sit and have a coffee and talk about the evidence."
"Chloe, sweetheart," I said patiently as I shot her a little look. "Real detective work isn't sitting around talking about evidence. Sometimes you've got to get your hands dirty. You do want to work on this case with me, don't you?"
Chloe gripped the steering wheel and after a few moments of hesitation, nodded. "Yes, of course I do." She pulled out her notes with shaky hands and handed me a sheet. "Here, that's the address. You'd better look it up on your phone and give me the directions, while I drive."
"Good girl."
It was no surprise to either of us that Olive Styles lived in what was known as the "rich" area of Belldale. It wasn't technically a gated community, as there was no guard at the gate to keep out the riff raff, but it was pretty close to it. There was still a gate the separated the estate from the rest of town, and every house past it was a minimum of two levels high and all of them immaculately landscaped. Compared to the one-bedroom apartment that Pippa and I shared, these places were palaces. It made me feel a little insecure as we drove down the wide roads, wondering if I would ever be in a financial position to afford a home like one of these.
I had to remind myself that I invested my money in other things. That I had poured all my money into my bakery, hence the one-bedroom apartment for two (and sometimes three) people. But that only made me feel better for a split second before my heart froze and my stomach clenched. I had put all my money into my bakery. It had been a brutally fought war, trying to open that place and keep it open. And now I was about to lose it. If I couldn't prove that someone else had killed Olive Styles, it was all over.
"You alright, Rach?" Chloe asked, a little concerned. "Do you need me to pull over? You're not going to barf, are you?"
Maybe I was catching Pippa's bug, but I didn't think so. I think it was pure fear that was making my stomach clench. "Come on, let's just find Olive's house."
The Styles’ estate was located right on top of the hill, the castle overlooking the rest of the land. It was also the biggest house, four stories tall, in the entire community.
"You need to stop a few houses down," I hissed at Chloe as she started driving too far past the mark. "Not right in front of it." For the first time since this investigation had started, I felt like I was the lead again.
"Right, sorry," Chloe said nervously as she shut the ignition off. "I haven't done this before."
"It's okay," I reassured her. "You're doing a great job."
There weren't many trees on this part of the estate. It was newer than the rest and the trees that had been planted on the street were still new and not large enough to provide much coverage. Bad for a stakeout. I was glad that Chloe's old banged-up car was black, but worried that the age and model of it would give us away as not belonging to the area. I doubted anyone else around here drove a twenty-year-old car unless it was a classic.
"Just stay still," I told her. "Don't turn on the car lights or the interior lights. Not even your phone light. We need to stay entirely inconspicuous as we sit and watch. I know it's late, but maybe we will see Angel doing something."
"I'm not sure we should be here," Chloe said. She was tapping her hand nervously on the steering wheel and although there was no way the action could have been heard in any of the houses, inside the silent car it was a loud thud and it made me nervous. The more nervous Chloe was, the more nervous I became.
"Don't worry," I reassured her. "I've been on plenty of stake outs and...." Well, most of them had ended in disaster, if I was being entirely honest with myself. But I forced a smile on my face. "They
always turn out perfectly fine. We're just here to observe."
"And what do we do once we observe something?" Chloe asked in a whisper. "And how long is it going to take to observe this thing we're apparently looking for?"
She was still tapping the steering wheel and I could tell she was about a second away from panicking and turning her incredibly loud engine on and speeding away. At 1:00am in this community, that would get the cops called on us. I needed to calm her down quickly. She looked like she was about to hyperventilate.
"Maybe we should get out of the car," I suggested. "Get some fresh air."
Chloe already had the door open before I could finish my sentence, spilling out onto the road. I followed her and closed my door quietly before racing to close hers just as quietly. I was starting to think, for the first time, that Chloe might be more of a liability than an asset.
"Come on," I said quietly. "At least we're dressed for creeping around, and it's completely dark out. Let's get closer to the Styles’ home. See if we can make anything out."
"I don't know, Rachael..." But she followed me anyway, not knowing what else to do, her arms wrapped around herself.
The Styles’ mansion was even more impressive up close with its tall brick walls and creeping plants up the side. Even though it was clearly a new house, it had an old, expensive look about it, which they had clearly paid top dollar for.
"We should stay off the lawn in case they have sprinklers," I whispered, instead leading Chloe up a path that led around the back of the house. There was a light on in one of the upstairs rooms, and I was hoping that it might be Angel's room and that she might still be awake. After all, teenagers stay up until the wee hours of the morning, don't they? I could barely remember, it seemed to be so long since I'd been one.
"Can you see anything?" I asked Chloe as we crouched underneath the bottom window. The bedroom with the lights on was one story above us, so we should have been able to get a good look if we got lucky.
Chloe raised her head a little but not enough for her to be able to see clearly. She still seemed paralyzed with fear. It was up to me then. I pulled away from the wall a little and looked up into the room where the light was shining.
There I saw a girl, about eighteen or nineteen, very thin, with a short sleek bob. Her hair was dark brown and glossy and perfectly styled still, even though she was in her pajamas. She was sitting at her dresser and I couldn't get a good look at her face. But after a few moments, she raised it and I saw her reflection in the mirror. She was crying.
But she looked like her mother. It was Angel Styles, I was sure about that.
I ducked back down, guilt shooting through me. We shouldn't have been there. We shouldn't have been watching such an intimate moment.
"You're right," I whispered to Chloe. "We shouldn't be here. We should go."
We were just about to go when Chloe tripped over a rock and reached out to stop herself falling, landing awkwardly on her wrist. "Ouch!" she called out, way too loudly.
I saw Angel Styles' reflection again as she sat up, startled. She quickly ran to the window and I pulled Chloe back against the brick wall, holding my breath while we both pressed ourselves flat against it, Chloe still gripping at her aching wrist.
"Shh," I said, trying to be the one to stay calm. We were both frozen there though, knowing that if we made a move for it then we would only give ourselves away. I could see Angel Styles' slim shadow on the ground as she leaned against the window, peering out at us. I pulled Chloe closer to the left so that our own shadows remained hidden.
Police sirens rang out.
Oh...shoot.
Chapter 6
"Run!" I said to Chloe. "Run to the car! Get in it and drive!"
Chloe raced away and turned to look back at me. "Rachael! Are you coming?"
I nodded and chased after her, but the cop car was already racing up the street, its red and blue lights flashing. I knew that if we both went the same way they would catch both of us. "Get in the car!" I screamed out to Chloe. "Just drive! Don't worry about me!"
I recognized the angry looking face of the detective as the car screeched towards me. I ran towards the cop car, trying to distract the angry driver while Chloe struggled to get into her own car and start the engine. I had to at least protect her. I'd gotten her into this situation and made her come on the stake out. It wasn't fair that she should get punished for it when I'd dragged her along.
She was far enough away by that stage that she was able to drive away without getting caught. Her engine was noisy and she choked the car as she struggled to pull away, but she got away in time. Unfortunately, I did not suffer the same fate.
Even if the driver had wanted to follow Chloe's car, he was centered on me. I was the red flag. He was the bull.
"Rachael," Jackson said, slamming the door as he stomped over to me. "Why am I not surprised to find you here?"
The cell was cold. Freezing. There was a strange smell. I didn't even want to think about what it was or it would only make my stomach turn.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the stone walls. There was only one other person in the cell, and she was passed out on the seat across from me. I supposed Monday night wasn't peak time in the Belldale holding cells.
I didn't know how long I had been in there, or whether anyone was coming to see me. Was I going to get a phone call? Was Jackson ever going to come and tell me what was going on?
Finally, footsteps approached. I jumped up, the words on the edge of my lips, ready to explain everything. Jackson, it wasn't what it looked like.
But it wasn't Jackson. It was a young, uniformed officer with blonde hair and a bit of a belly on him, which I assumed he must have put on quite swiftly after joining the force.
"Oh," I said. "Is Detective Whitaker coming back?"
He shook his head and opened the cell. "You got one phone call, ma'am."
Ma'am? I wasn't that much older than him. But I gulped and followed him out into the filthy hallway until we reached the one phone we had access to. I tried not to think about how many other people had spoken into the receiver as I picked it up. "Excuse me?" I asked the young cop. "Can you tell me what time it is?"
"3:30am," he replied with a little eyebrow raise. Shoot. Pippa would not want to answer the phone at that time of night. Morning. I just hoped she would answer it.
The phone rang eight times before she finally picked up. I closed my eyes and silently thanked anyone up there who might be listening. "Pippa," I said. "I'm really sorry. I've got something to tell you."
Thankfully, my bail was set at a couple of hundred bucks, but I knew that Pippa would struggle with even that after a few weeks off work. "I'll pay you back as soon as we're home," I whispered to her as we were leaving, but she refused to even look at me.
"Aw, come on, Pips," I said as I chased her out the door. She was already racing to the car and I half-thought she was going to drive off without me. Even though it was my car that she was driving. She started the ignition and I climbed into the passenger seat quickly before she did just that.
She still hadn't said a word to me by the time we were halfway home.
"Pippa, please, just say something. Are you not feeling well?" I said, hoping that might be the reason for her radio silence.
"No, I'm not actually," she finally snapped. "Hence I did not love getting woken up by a call from my best friend, asking me to rescue her from jail!" At least she was talking to me now, even if she was yelling the words. "And to hear that you've been out investigating, no less! Staking out Olive Styles house, no doubt!"
"Pippa," I said, leaning my head against the car seat. "You were asleep. And unwell. What kind of friend would I be if I'd woken you up and asked you to come with me?"
"A loyal one?" she snapped back.
"It was nothing important, Pippa."
"It was important enough for the cops to arrest you." Pippa just stared ahead at the road.
I was silent. But Pippa wasn't finished. "We
re you on your own?"
"Yes," I answered quickly.
"Really?" she asked, leaning her head to the side a little. "You were up at the rich part of town, stalking Olive Styles’ house on your own?"
"I already said yes, Pippa."
"Funny," she said. "Considering you left your car at home and I'm driving it right now. How did you get there?"
Shoot.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back again. "Fine, okay," I said quietly. "I went there with Chloe."
Pippa slammed her foot on the brakes, sending me rocketing forward before my seatbelt caught me. "Pippa, what are you doing? You rescue me from jail and now you're trying to kill me?"
"I knew it," she said. She sounded more hurt than angry. I would have preferred her angry. "I knew that you were working the case with her. So what, the great and amazing Chloe has replaced me at work AND as your detective sidekick? Is that what’s happened, Rachael?"
"No," I said. "You're being ridiculous, Pippa. Please keep driving. We're stopped right in the middle of the road, for crying out loud!"
"You could have at least been honest with me, Rachael, rather than going behind my back like this." She almost sounded like she was about to cry. Geez, I'd only worked a case with another person. It wasn't like I'd cheated on her or something. I wondered if all this anger was a little misdirected; if it shouldn't have been directed at her wayward husband Marcello, who was currently overseas in Spain and in Pippa's bad books. I felt annoyed that I was copping the blame for his bad behavior and I wanted to say something, but it really wasn't the time.
"Don't you have something to say for yourself, Rachael?" Pippa asked.
"Yes," I said. "Thank you for picking me up from the station. I'd really like to go home now. And, Pippa, I'm starting to think that some time apart might be a little healthy for us."
She slammed her foot down on the accelerator. "Fine by me, if that's what you want!'" she yelled. We drove the rest of the way home in silence.
The Mud Pie Murderess: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery Page 4