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

by Allison Janda

  “Yes,” he answered. “In fact, why don’t you keep it? I’ve been meaning to get something more updated.”

  “Oh, Rory. I couldn’t!”

  “No, honestly. You need it.”

  “You forget he’s loaded, Marian. Take it,” Addison supplied.

  “And the truth about why she finally came around to me is out,” Rory smiled as he put his arms around Addie, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Frankly, I’m glad she said it because if I were to say it, I’d sound like an arse.”

  I smiled. “I think the thing that I love about you the most is that I do forget that about you. Often,” I said, clutching my hand around his keys. “Well, thank you. Really.”

  “My pleasure. Take good care of the magic school bus.”

  “Magic?” I asked, curiously.

  “Please don’t ask him to explain,” Addison told me, shoving Rory out the door. “It’s more information than you need about our relationship.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I shut the door behind them in mock disgust. Turning, I laid my head against it and sighed, looking around. “Well, Fred, time to get this place cleaned up a bit.”

  The next morning, I awoke to a loud, obnoxious banging against my front door. By the time I’d gotten everything set to rights in the apartment from the break-in, it had been well into Monday morning. I’d stumbled into bed just as the sun was beginning to peek over the eastern horizon and had pulled my curtains tight, intent on sleeping in. Clearly the universe had other plans in mind. “Marian!” Addie said, pounding hard, again. “Marian open up! This is important.”

  “Mmmpf,” I muttered, tossing a pillow into the hallway and rolling over, tucking myself deeper into the sheets.

  “I know you’re in there!” she cried, banging again. “The bus is still parked right where Rory left it.”

  Damn. Sighing, I pulled myself out of bed and lazily made my way over to the door. With a large yawn, I opened it and peered blurry-eyed into a huge bouquet of exquisite mixed flowers. Cautiously, I began searching for a card. “Who are they from?” I mumbled.

  “Good morning to you, Sunshine. Or rather, good afternoon. These were delivered to the studio over lunch.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t blow up your trunk,” I muttered, searching harder through the stems.

  “Looking for this?” Addison asked dryly, pulling a small red envelope from her pants pocket. I snatched it away from her and realized it had already been opened. “Well, you can’t really blame me. And anyway, Rory did it. I was at the Journal this morning and swung by the studio to take him to lunch. The flowers had just been delivered. He was curious.” She paused, waiting for my reaction.

  “Who are they from?” I asked again, eyeing her suspiciously. When she just stared back, I ripped the card from its envelope and began to read. “Thanks for dinner Saturday night. Hope to see you again soon. Mika.” My eyes widened and I met Addie’s gaze. “Oh, no. He probably thinks I’m a total nut job.”

  “Probably,” Addison said, thrusting the flowers into my hands. “At least you didn’t threaten him with the gun.”

  “He clearly meant for me to get these yesterday,” I mumbled, walking them into the kitchen, arranging the vase prettily by a window.

  “Obviously,” she answered, flopping down on the couch. “As for why they didn’t make it, who knows? Either way, you should probably try giving him a call.” She reached for my house phone and held it out to me. “Sooner rather than later is best in this case. Trust me.”

  Hesitantly, I took the phone from her hand. “I will. Just not right now. Let’s get our heads wrapped around this first.”

  “What do you need to wrap your head around?” she asked me. “Adonis sent you flowers. He’s not our killer and he thinks you’re cray-cray. Call him. Now.”

  “Well, hold up a second!” I cried. “If he didn’t send the other flowers, then who did?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. James, probably.”

  “We’re missing something. Something big,” I told her. “You’re the journalist, for crying out loud. You’re supposed to sniff out the stuff no one wants to tell you. It’s how you make your living.”

  “You’re the crime scene photographer,” she shot back. “If anyone should have a clue, it’s you. Everything is in the details, Moyer. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, call him. Please. For me. If this one goes to waste, I will never forgive you.”

  Glaring, I went to retrieve my cell from the bedroom and flipped through my recent dials for his number. I waited anxiously while it rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Voicemail. I let out the breath I’d been holding and waited for the beep. “Hey, Mika. It’s Marian. Look, um, I think I owe you an apology. I got your flowers. Today. They uh- well, I mistook another delivery for yours the other day.” Addison shot me a look and made a “wrap it up” motion with her finger. “Anyway, I’d like to see you again so that I can explain. Give me a call.” After I rattled off my number, I hastily hung up the phone and dropped it onto the couch like a hot potato.

  “That was…intelligent,” Addison said.

  “Shut up, you’re the writer.”

  “Call Barry. Find out if they have anything on the fingerprints from your break-in, yet.”

  “You’re bossy today.” I called his desk phone and he picked up halfway through the third ring. “Nothing yet,” he told me. “But I promise to let you know as soon as I find out.”

  “Think Addison could get it out of someone?”

  “Possibly, but probably better not to try,” he said. “Don’t want anyone to know you’re sniffing around. Hey, you care to fill me in on your suspects?”

  “I wish I had more to tell you,” I groaned. “One of our leads just fell through. We’re back to square one.”

  “Still thinking it could have been that James guy?”

  “Pretty sure. But he had to have had some help.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Can we talk about this Thursday? Addison and I have a lot work to do between now and then.”

  “Oh, sure, sure. I’ll see you then.”

  “Great,” I said, hanging up. Turning to Addison, I asked, “Anyone else?”

  “No word from Janet?”

  I shook my head. “She must be really busy. Sometimes it takes her a day or two if she’s knee-deep in a case.”

  “Fair. Have you had lunch?” My stomach growled and she smiled. “Guess that answers that. Take a shower- let’s grab sushi, I’m starving.”

  “I’d really like to just go back to bed.”

  “Shower. Sushi. Not up for debate.”

  “Didn’t you have lunch with Rory?”

  “No, I decided it would be much more fun to play your errand girl.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, making my way to the bathroom.

  An hour later, I was clean, dressed and aiming the bus towards Sushirama. “I feel like I’m going to run somebody over in this thing,” I said to Addie as I turned onto a side road.

  “You probably could,” she answered. “But it would probably work in our favor right now if you didn’t.”

  Once we were seated and done checking over the menus, I folded my hands and leaned across the table. “What’s our next move?”

  “I’m afraid that we may have to resort to the original plan,” she said.

  “Well, do what you have to do.”

  “When do you meet Barry? Thursday?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “The plan requires getting tough with the police. I don’t want him to be around to take the heat that’s bound to follow.”

  “Awful sweet of you.”

  “I have my moments.” She sipped at her cucumber water and turned to look out the window at the passing cars. “I still can’t figure out who broke into your apartment. Or why. What could they possibly be looking for?”

  “Maybe whoever it was, was really just looking to freak me out,” I said. “It’s part of the game.”

&nbs
p; “Perhaps,” she said, cupping her chin in her hands. She tilted her head slightly as if she’d heard something. “Is your phone ringing?”

  I started to dig through my purse and pulled out my cell. My eyes widened as I viewed the display. “Mika,” I mouthed.

  She gave me the thumbs up. “Go talk. I’ll get our order in.”

  “I should probably wait until-”

  She snatched the phone out of my hand and hit the answer key. “Marian’s phone,” she answered in a singsong voice. I shot her a dirty look. “No, but she’s right here, Mika, hold on just a moment.”

  She held the phone out to me but I shook my head. Standing, she leaned across the table and shoved the phone up to my ear. “Mika!” I said, refraining from kicking Addison’s chair as I stood and hurried towards the quiet hallway near the restrooms. “I didn’t think you’d ever call me back.”

  “Your message sounded sincere enough,” he answered. “A little crazy, but definitely sincere.”

  I let out a laugh that sounded more like a honk. Clearing my throat, I ignored the fear that was bubbling in my gut and rushed forward. “Well, I really just wanted to say that I was sorry, even though I’d rather apologize in person, but I wasn’t sure if you would see me. Anyway, there was a big mix-up with the flowers.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “Well, I- I- um.”

  “Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but it just seems like you could use someone to talk to. Are you free later?”

  “Tonight? Yeah. Yes. I mean, I can be.”

  “Great. 7 o’clock. Same place as yesterday.”

  “Swell,” I said under my breath, but he’d already hung up the phone.

  As I made my way back to our table, Addison looked up. When she saw me, her face grew pinched with worry. “Did he not want to hear it?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. He wants to hear it. All of it,” I said, sipping my water quietly. “I’m meeting him tonight at the coffee shop again.”

  “Same one as yesterday?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s evil. And somehow pure genius. I like it.”

  “He apparently likes things to be even.”

  “Can’t be all bad,” she said with a wicked smile. “Who knows where else he’s going to ensure that everything is even?”

  I threw my napkin at her and laughed. “I haven’t even begged for forgiveness yet. Let’s not hurry up to the part where we have sex.”

  “Oh, beg for forgiveness,” she said dirtily.

  “Addison!” I scoffed. “We’re in public.”

  She giggled. “What time do I need to have you home to get ready?”

  “We have most of the afternoon.”

  “Perfect. Then after this we’re going shopping. My treat. You need something fabulous.”

  After a stop through the local mall and trying on about 30 different outfits, I finally settled on a soft, caramel brown scoop-necked sweater and a pair of gold hoops. “Add a pair of jeans and your knee-high brown leather boots and he’ll practically be apologizing to you,” Addison promised as she handed me the bag the cashier had just handed her. “Let’s get you home.”

  After a long, lingering hot bath filled with lavender sea salts and quite a few bubbles, I hurried to get ready. The final outcome wasn’t nearly as stunning as the magic that Addison had been able to work on me for my previous dates with Mika, but it would do in a pinch. Giving my hair one last fluff in the mirror, I grabbed my keys to the bus off the kitchen counter and locked up. Taking the stairs two at a time, I almost plowed into my neighbor, Mr. Hanley.

  Mr. Hanley is 73 years old, totally deaf in his left ear and somewhat blind. He walks using a gold cane. It looks like something he stole off of a pimp in the seventies. Granted if you ever met the man, you’d probably assume he used to be a pimp in the ’70s. Something in his eyes. Why he still takes the stairs up nine floors is beyond me. “Sorry!” I said, jumping around him and zipping on down the stairs.

  “Careful!” he cried, clutching the rail and shaking his cane my direction. “I’m crippled.”

  I pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop right on time. Sending Addison a quick text to let her know that I was still safe, I leapt out of the bus, slammed the door and hurried towards the front of the coffee shop, trying hard not to slip in the well-packed snow. This time, when I walked in, Mika was already waiting at the same table as yesterday. I smiled, shook my head and walked over. “You sure do enjoy punishment,” I said, taking a seat and removing my coat.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” he answered with a wicked smile. “Vanilla latte?” He pushed the warm mug towards me and I gratefully picked it up, drawing in a long, delicious sip.

  “You remembered,” I told him.

  “Oh, I remember quite a few things from last night.”

  Embarrassed, I looked down at my lap as I pulled off my gloves and dropped them into my purse. “I’m really sorry about that,” I mumbled.

  “You’re what?” he asked playfully, leaning towards me.

  I laughed. “Sorry. I’m. Sorry.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s just really complicated.” I eyed him shyly. “You don’t really strike me as the complicated type.”

  “Try me.”

  With a heavy sigh, I recounted the past few weeks from start to finish. Alec’s death. The autopsy results — both fake and real. The trip to see my parents. The date with James that seemed incredibly suspect. The fact that he was likely working with an accomplice. The fact that I was still considered a suspect by the police. The fact that I’d considered Mika a suspect. The exploding car. The ransacked apartment. The threatening flowers. That what he’d said the night before had set me off.

  When I finished, I took another long sip of my latte and waited, not looking at Mika. Recounting all of it was exhausting. There was no way he wouldn’t run screaming in the other direction. Not now.

  “Marian?” he asked gently. I tapped my fingers against the table and tried hard to steel myself against what I was bound to see when I finally decided to look at him. Swallowing back the tears that were welling up, I lifted my gaze and was met with genuine concern. “I probably would have freaked out, too,” he said with a small smile.

  I laughed and swiped at the tears that had gathered in the corners of my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I told him. “It’s just the way everything kind of added up.”

  “You really don’t have to apologize any more,” he told me, taking my hand in his. It was warm and smooth. Darker than my own. Heavier. I immediately felt relaxed.

  We sat for the next while in silence, sipping our drinks and holding hands. When our mugs were empty, Mika picked them up and placed them in the busser bin up by the front counter. “Ready?” he asked when he returned, holding out his hand. I took it and stood. He reached around me and picked up my coat, holding it open like he had the night before. This time when I slipped into it, he made no advances.

  I’ll admit that I was slightly disappointed as I pulled my gloves from my handbag. As we walked towards the exit, Mika stepped in front of me to hold open the door. I thanked him and stepped through it, into the frigid night air. “Well,” I said, hugging myself, trying hard to ward off the cold. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. Our eyes met. “Thanks for coffee and for the talk and-”

  Without warning, he stepped forward, took my face in his hands and kissed me. I felt my knees beginning to weaken and he snaked one arm down around my waist to prop me up while the other moved slowly to the back of my neck and then to my hair, where he gently tugged my head back. I gasped as he moved his lips to the exposed flesh on my throat, my limbs lax in his strong grip. My skin felt as if it were on fire. I could barely breathe. “Mika,” I whispered.

  “Let me come home with you.”

  I froze. Surely my ears were deceiving me. “What?”

  “Just to be there,” he said. “Just to take care of you.”

  “Oh. Sure.” I
licked my lips.

  He laughed, mistaking my idiocy for sarcasm and tucked a wayfaring curl behind my ear. “Honest,” he promised, pressing his forehead to mine. “No funny business. But I haven’t felt this way about someone in longer than I care to remember. I’d just like to make sure you’re safe.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Marian? Shut up and let me sleep on your couch.” With a chuckle I pulled away and began walking towards the bus. “I’ll follow you there,” he called after me.

  While I’d like to be able to confess that there was funny business — and quite a bit of it — Mika was true to his word and slept peacefully on the couch the entire night. When I awoke the next morning, he had replaced the couch pillows, folded the blanket and was sipping quietly on a cup of coffee as he flipped through an old edition of Food Porn. When he heard me shuffling out of the bedroom, he looked up and smiled. “Morning. I hope you don’t mind that I made a pot of coffee. I just wanted to see you. Find out if you needed anything before I left.”

  “Just coffee,” I muttered.

  He laughed. “Not a morning person?”

  I shook my head. “Best not to start leading you on now.” I stopped, realizing what I’d said. “I mean…assuming that this, er, that we, ah, that this continues.”

  “Touché.” He finished the rest of his mug in one quick swig and stood. “I’ll let you do your thing. If you need me, you have my number.” I nodded and yawned, pulling a mug from the cabinet. In a flash, he’d rounded the counter, flipped me around and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Bye,” he whispered, pulling away.

  Just like that, he was gone. All I could do was blow into my cupped palm and sniff, hoping that my hasty tooth brushing before entering the kitchen had been enough.

  Later that day, I sat curled in one of Addison’s chairs in her office at the Journal. “He just…slept?” she asked, appalled. “On the couch?”

  “Yeah,” I said, bewildered. “I mean, he said that he was going to, but I didn’t really believe him.”

  “And yet, you let him follow you home anyway,” she chided.

  “Maybe he’s just not all that into me.”