Allison Janda - Marian Moyer 01 - Sex, Murder & Killer Cupcakes

by Allison Janda

  “Let me,” he said, opening it with a gallant gesture that the establishment probably hadn’t seen in, well, ever.

  Inside, the restaurant looked about how one would expect. Tables were shoved together haphazardly, the paint peeled from the walls, and old frazzled waitresses were running from table to table as boisterous drunks shouted their orders and clutched tightly to their beer mugs. Not quite as romantic as Kabuki, but then, what did I expect? I’d already slept with the man, it wasn’t like he needed to impress me. Plus he was probably a pathological killer, a hobby that surely didn’t pay much.

  James and I found an abandoned two top near the back of the establishment. He helped me out of my coat before hanging it and his own on a discreet hook on the wall. Once he’d ensured that my chair was properly pushed in, he went and sat on the other side of the table. His mannerisms seemed far too developed for a murderer. Still, I’d need to stay on my guard. The charm could just be part of his ploy to wear down my defenses. Who knew what he’d attempt to do to me later? My mind briefly turned to a naughty fantasy before I shook myself out of it and locked eyes with James, who sat with a bemused smile on his face.

  “Where were you just now?” he asked, curiously.

  “Nowhere. Nothing,” I stammered, picking up a menu which had been left by a waitress old enough to be my grandmother. It was yellowed with age and splattered with a variety of stains that I could only hope were caused by ketchup. The inside was packed with baskets, platters and plates of every kind of fish — available steamed, grilled, fried or blackened. The variety of southern-style sides ranged from mac and cheese to fried okra to fresh cut rosemary fries. The place may look like a dump, but they sure had their menu down. Hopefully it would all taste just as good as it sounded.

  Once our orders were placed, we had nothing to do but wait and talk. We chatted for a few minutes about families and mutual acquaintances from our college days. My complete inability to hide my emotions made me nervous and I was worried he’d read my mind, rampant with accusations, at any moment. “What were you doing at my apartment?” I found myself blurting out once the small talk had run dry. Ah, subtlety.

  He looked surprised by my outburst, but quickly flattened it away and smiled. “I had no idea that, that was your apartment,” he responded smoothly. Something in his reaction told me he was lying.

  Nonetheless, he brushed off my curious look and crossed his arms, defiant. His purple button-down pulled tight across his chest and his upper arms bulged slightly. I swallowed. This wasn’t going to be any easier than our last date. It didn’t matter that he’d possibly chop me up later and store me in his freezer for stew, his magnetism was grossly alluring and on full volume. It wasn’t fair to his victims. It really wasn’t.

  “I’d been visiting someone,” he continued, his green eyes darkening.

  I made a noise somewhere in the back of my throat. “Another woman?” I asked. He smiled and shrugged. The nerve. “Nothing too serious, it seems,” I replied. He shrugged again. Narrowing my eyes, I felt my temper flaring but tried to keep it under control, using my newfound disgust to fuel the conversation into something that Addison could use. “Well,” I said as controlled as possible, “what’s new with you?”

  He seemed disoriented by the change in subject and I took momentary satisfaction in his confusion. “Working a lot,” he said, reaching for his water, which our waitress had left in addition to our beers.

  I nodded in encouragement. “You own a bakery now,” I said, feigning excitement. “How did you get into that?”

  “Business ownership?” he asked, taking another swig of his water. “Just stumbled into it. My partner decided to take his early fortune and retire. I took mine and turned it into more opportunities.”

  My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I had no idea that the baking business was so lucrative,” I told him sincerely.

  He chuckled. “I’m involved in far deeper investments.”

  Something about what he’d just said clicked. “What do you mean?” I asked, hoping that Addison and Richard were recording every single word.

  James fixed me with a look that was tuned somewhere between a poker face and smoldering desire. I swallowed hard and my hand slowly drew to the top button of my blouse, which had somehow become undone again, showing off my slightly flushed chest. I clutched it closed tightly, which broke the spell. “Nothing to worry about,” he murmured as he glanced around the room. “Will you excuse me for a moment?” He stood and strode confidently towards the restrooms.

  “Was that code?” I hissed, lowering my mouth to the pewter ribbon still pinned to my shirt. Did he know that I was onto him? Had he meant that I shouldn’t be worried about getting killed later or I shouldn’t worry about what line of business he was in outside of baking cookies because I’d find out soon enough? Panic was welling up in my chest and I felt crazed, taking in all the possible exits of the restaurant. If you counted the small, slightly cracked window behind the bar, there were two. This place really wasn’t up to fire code. Still, it’s not like I could get anywhere. Who knew how far away Addison and Richard were?

  Our waitress came and plopped two plates of steaming hot seafood on the table, along with a bottle of ketchup she had tucked into her apron. Everything looked and smelled incredible. My stomach growled, reminding me that the last meal I’d had was a paltry Lean Cuisine for lunch. It seemed like just that afternoon had been so very long ago.

  James reappeared suddenly and rubbed his hands together as his eyes grazed over his huge plate of crab legs. Smiling, his gaze met mine. “Looks delicious,” he said, his voice low. I gulped. He wasn’t talking about his dinner.

  Somehow I managed to clear away the cobwebs of fear that were slowly being sewn throughout my brain and carried on a normal, if slightly dry, conversation through dinner. Perhaps if I bored him to death, he’d lose interest. Unfortunately, it just seemed to make him more curious, as if I were intentionally shrouding myself with mystery.

  Once we’d eaten our fill and our water glasses sat empty, the ice slowly melting and molding together like a game of Tetris, I excused myself and made my way to the bathroom. Checking under the stalls to make sure no one was within earshot; I pulled out my phone and called Addison. “Get back out there,” she scolded me in welcome.

  “Where are you?” I wailed. “I didn’t even know if you guys were behind us.”

  “Of course we were behind you,” she snapped. “You only slipped your location into the conversation with James about every third block.”

  “Do you think he noticed?” I asked.

  Addison sighed in frustration, but sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly there was a slight scuffle on the other end of the line, before I heard a different voice. “Just try to relax,” said a gravely older male, who I could only assume was Richard. “I’ve been at this a long time. If I thought you were in danger, I’d get you out. He’s not going to kill you in the middle of the most popular hole-in-the-wall Milwaukee has.”

  There was another scuffle and Addison’s voice came back on the line. “Things are being handled,” she assured me. “I just need you to get out there and keep him occupied. Okay?”

  I nodded and sighed. “Okay,” I breathed, clicking off. Tucking my phone back into my pocketbook, I took a moment to glance in the mirror. Smoothing a few loose strands of hair back behind my ears, I squared my shoulders and looked directly at my reflection. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Stepping out, I paused at the corner and peeked around to the dining room, my eyes stopping on our table. James had been accosted by the young girl who’d given me a dirty look on our way in. She was incredibly beautiful but James didn’t seem the least bit interested, completely ignoring her flirtatious advances. Ha, I thought, quietly walking towards our table. The moment he caught me striding towards him, he suddenly lit up with interest towards our new young friend and even seemed to begin flirting back. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

  As I a
pproached, he mocked surprise and embarrassment over my arrival. Before the girl left, she wrote her number on a cocktail napkin and tucked it deep into his shirt pocket with a grin, then fixed me with another dirty look as she slithered back to her table. I wanted to punch her.

  “Some things never change,” he told me patting his pocket with a mischievous sparkle to his eye. “Are we ready to go?” He pushed himself up and came around the table to grab our coats. I snatched mine away and pulled it on myself before steaming my way out the front door. He clearly had no interest in the girl, despite his comment, so why pretend? Was he hoping that reminding me that he was a playboy would win him favor later tonight? If so, he had another thing coming. I wouldn’t be played and murdered. Oh, no. One thing at a time.

  I was so red with rage that I didn’t speak at all on our drive back to town. Thankfully, I noticed that he was keeping to main roads. “No dictation this time?” he asked playfully. I turned to glower at him and noticed the tinge of worry that crinkled the corner of his eyes. Let him worry, I thought huffily, turning to look back out the passenger side window and into the dusky blanket of evening.

  We arrived back at the warehouse without incident and I immediately reached for the door handle once we’d come to a stop by the entrance. “Wait,” James said, leaning across the cab to close it. I took a deep breath and forced myself to turn silently to him, waiting for him to finish. “I just- I didn’t mean to-” his eyes were filled with remorse. “Marian, I’m sorry,” he said simply. “That was completely uncalled for.”

  I found myself believing his apology immediately and hated myself for it. “I need to go,” I told him, pulling the handle and stepping out of the truck. “Thanks for dinner and for beer and for driving.” I shut the door hard and lowered my head to the wind as I made my way down to the parking lot.

  I heard his engine whirring behind me as he crept along, following me to my car. Surely I couldn’t have made it all the way out of his truck only to have him do away with me now. I picked up my pace slightly, but his truck didn’t lose ground. Eventually, my steps turned into a brisk jog and I clutched at my pocketbook as I hurled myself down the sidewalk.

  “Marian,” James called out the passenger window, which was now completely rolled down. “What are you doing?”

  I paused at the edge of the sidewalk, panting, and glanced to my right. My car was parked at the far end of the lot, close to the alley and second entrance to our building. Knowing that I could make it, even if it meant I’d have to run, I spun around and faced James, my face tight with anger. “Leave me alone,” I told him with all of the force I could muster. The wind nipped hard at my thin pants and I hugged my body, trying to keep all the warmth from escaping.

  “Marian, get back in the truck and let’s talk about this,” he pled.

  I scoffed and began to dig around for my keys. “I’m not getting in there,” I told him, pawing through the contents of my purse. “I saw you start talking to that girl the second I walked around the corner. What suddenly brought the interest? Hmm?”

  He seemed to redden slightly in the darkness. “I didn’t know you saw all of that.”

  “What kind of excuse is that?”

  “I’m sorry!”

  I laughed bitterly. “I’m not interested in anything that you have to say to me. Not anymore.” Finally digging my keys out of a side pocket, I looked up into James’s perfect green eyes and went to hit my remote start button, hoping to shake the chill in the air before I climbed in. “I’ll talk to you-”

  Suddenly, there was a loud explosion from the parking lot. My eyes locked with James’s and I saw an orange fireball reflected back at me, his mouth forming an “O” of surprise before the sheer draft of heat knocked me to the ground. Everything went white.

  I awoke slowly, the harsh fluorescent lights above me only serving to increase the throbbing pain on the left side of my forehead. Blinking, I raised a hand and attempted to shield my eyes.

  “She’s awake,” a voice called loudly. I winced in pain. “Sorry,” the voice said to me, placing a cold compress to my head.

  “Where am I?” I asked, trying hard to orient myself.

  “An ambulance,” the voice replied. “Outside of your office.” My eyes adjusted and I recognized the dark-skinned female EMT who was busy wrapping my arm in a blood pressure cuff. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

  I shook my head and the effort caused me to grimace. What the heck was going on? My arm felt sore with pressure as she pumped the cuff with air and held a stethoscope to the crook of my arm, listening for my pulse.

  The last thing I could remember, I’d been walking back to my car. James had dropped me off. There had been an argument about something. “Oh my God,” I moaned, the whole evening flooding my brain at once. “Did my car explode?”

  “Marian.” I recognized Addison’s voice, filled with concern.

  I tried to push myself up off the stretcher bed, but groaned and flopped backwards. Gingerly, I touched my forehead, where I could feel a hot sticky mess near my temple. “Don’t touch that,” the EMT chided me gently. “I’m trying to clean you up.”

  “Will she need stitches?” Addison asked anxiously, climbing into the ambulance beside me.

  “No, just looks like a nasty face plant,” the EMT said, as she dabbed at my injury. With a grin she added, “Luckily she caught herself with her forehead, not her teeth.” Addison and I just stared at her.

  Eventually, I slowly rolled my head towards my friend. “Addison, what happened to my car?” I asked, wincing slightly at the pain my own voice caused my head. “And where’s James?”

  Her lower lip began to tremble as she took my hand. “He’s being questioned,” she told me. “Your car is…um, it’s gone.”

  “I’d been hoping this was all just some kind of sick dream. Ow!” I cried, tensing as the EMT smeared a clear jelly across the gash on my forehead.

  “Ow,” Addison whimpered as I squeezed her hand just a little too tightly.

  “Sorry,” the EMT said to both of us. Then to me, “Just hold still.”

  Loosening my grip on Addison’s hand, I waited for her to continue. “The police seem to think that someone slipped an explosive into your car. It was probably intended to go off when you slipped the key in the ignition, but something set it off early, thank goodness.”

  “My remote starter,” I told her. “I went to start my car while James and I were arguing.”

  “Okay, you’re all done,” the EMT told me. As I went to sit up, however, she grabbed gently at my shoulders and held me down. “I really think you should go to the hospital and get checked out.”

  I waved her off and tried to sit up again, but Addison laid a hand on my chest. “Just think about it while you lay here for a few minutes, okay?” she pled.

  I grumbled, but remained prone on the stretcher while the EMT went about cleaning up the cabin. Minutes later, I heard fast-paced footsteps and Rory’s voice shouting, “Where is she? Where is she?”

  “We’re in this one,” Addison called out to him.

  “Addison,” I groaned. “Stop yelling.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered, giving my hand a quick kiss.

  Suddenly Rory’s head was bobbing at the entrance to the ambulance. “Oh, Marian. How are you? How is she?” he asked, darting glances between the preoccupied EMT and Addison.

  “She’ll make it,” said the EMT. “But I really think she needs to go get everything checked out at the hospital.” With that, she stepped out and made her way to another ambulance which was parked just across the way.

  My friends looked at me expectantly. “I’d rather not,” I told them, huffily. “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “The department will cover it,” said Barry with a grin, coming up behind Rory.

  “Barry!” I whooped before closing my eyes with a whimper.

  “Good to see you, Moyer,” he told me, then nodded at Rory and Addison. “Folks,” he said with another smile which
seemed somewhat forced.

  “They’re not still thinking it’s us, are they?” I asked him through waves of pain.

  “Hard to say,” he told me. “No one’s going to tell me much of anything.” He turned around to glance at his fellow officers as they milled around in our parking lot. Sighing, he turned back to me. “Look, the reality is that one of you could have crafted it all up.” Addison cried out in strangled protest and her left eye twitched slightly. Barry held up a hand, waiting for her to finish before he continued. Rory climbed into the cabin behind her and rubbed Addison’s upper back soothingly as she took a few deep breaths. Her angry grip on my hand loosened. Barry continued. “But I would like to think, considering how close Marian came to being a flaming dessert, that they are looking harder at other leads.”

  “What about James?” Addison asked, frantically.

  “Addison!” I admonished. “What about him? We were together the whole night. He couldn’t have.”

  She shook her head. “You were supposed to meet him at the restaurant,” she reminded me. “Plus, he was early. And how did he even know where we’re located, anyway?” Rory was nodding in agreement and Addison continued on, encouraged. “He would have seen your car the other morning when he asked you out. He’d know exactly what you were driving.”

  It was all fitting into place after all. “He told me at dinner that he was involved in deeper investments,” I added.

  “That he used to have a partner,” Addison told Barry and Rory excitedly.

  “But that his partner had invested his part of their first fortune in retirement,” I continued. “And that he had invested in more business. What if he’s a hit man?”