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

by Allison Janda

  “Ah.”

  “But that’s all over now. I mean, I’m not interested in him like that anymore. He’s trying to kill me, after all.”

  At that moment, my phone started ringing in my purse in the hallway. “I’ll get it!” I cried, jumping up and almost running out of the kitchen. By the time I got to it, it had stopped ringing. Just as I swiped the screen to see who the missed call was from, it started to ring again. James.

  “Are you going to answer it?” Mika asked amusedly as I stood stock-still by the couch. I shook my head. Mika stood and strode over to look at the ID. “Well, you have to get that,” he said, tugging the phone out of my hands. “You think he’s trying to kill you, you have to make plans. Lure him into a trap and all that. Hello?” he said, answering for me.

  My eyes grew wide with fear and I struggled to grab the phone, but Mika held me off as he listened to James speak on the other end of the line. I couldn’t tell what was being said, but Mika’s grin continued to grow wider and wider. “Hold on, just a second,” he said into the phone. “Let me get her for you.”

  With a wink, he handed me my cell and waltzed back into the kitchen, whistling. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t shot the bastard when I had the chance. “James!” I said with false enthusiasm. “Sorry about that, my brother just doesn’t- I mean, he-. Um. How are you?”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” James said cooly.

  I prickled. “There are a lot of things you don’t know.” Pausing, I took a breath and put a happy tone back into my voice. “Did you need something?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was really glad you called the other day. I wanted to take you out for dinner, again. Date three, but we’ll pretend it’s only date two.”

  “Oh,” I said, unsure of how to respond.

  “Is your- is your brother taking you out this week?” Did I denote a hint of jealousy in his tone as he spoke? “I didn’t realize you had a sibling that hailed from the Ukraine.”

  “I- wait, how did you know that his accent was Ukrainian?”

  “Uh- someone I worked with had a similar accent,” he stammered. Clearing his throat, he added, “But anyway, what night are you free this week?”

  I wasn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, it would be easy enough to set him up. On the other hand, he clearly had a wider skill set than I did. Who knew what plans he’d carry out while we waited to meet? Better to make it as soon as possible. But not too soon — I didn’t want to appear overly eager. “How’s Thursday?” I asked him.

  By Thursday night, I’d have caught up with Barry, as well as Addison and Rory. Chances were that Addison’s plan would have already been carried out by then if she was working on it earlier today. The police department would be on our side after that. It was the perfect cover.

  “Thursday is great,” he answered. Begrudgingly he added, “Tell your brother that James said hello,” and then he hung up.

  “Bye,” I said to no one. Lowering the phone I stared at it for a moment then looked up at Mika. “He said to tell you ‘hello.’”

  “Very sweet of him,” Mika said. “How about you and I plan a date this Friday to celebrate your capture of a killer?” he chuckled and took a sip of his tea. Standing from his chair once again, he walked by and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have to run an errand,” he answered. Grabbing his coat from the rack in the hallway, he shrugged it on and opened the door. Turning to smile at me, he said, “Don’t forget to lock this.”

  “Doesn’t seem to keep you out,” I muttered. “And you never did tell me how you got in.”

  Mika shrugged sheepishly. “Nasty habit I picked up as a kid.”

  Later that evening, I was curled up in my fluffiest pajamas, skimming through the latest rough draft edition of Food Porn on my computer. Rory had really outdone himself with the layout, which was a toned down throwback to our early days. It was the perfect, subtle “Happy Birthday” to the magazine. And Mika. Wow. It should have been near impossible to forget what lay underneath all of his jeans and plain, faded t-shirts, but somehow, I hadn’t quite remembered it like this. I ran my finger over his abs that filled nearly my entire screen. Okay, so I’d zoomed in a little. Looking down at my own slightly rounded belly, and then examining the Reese’s I held poised in my hand, I suddenly felt self-conscious. What could he possibly see in me?

  There was a gentle knock on the front door and I quickly stuffed the Reese’s in my mouth and set the laptop next to Fred’s tank. Tiptoeing towards the door, I paused to peer through the peephole. It was Mika. Once the door was open, I gave him a small smile. “Surprised you didn’t just let yourself in,” I teased.

  “I only do that in the case of an emergency,” he answered easily, pulling off his coat and hanging it next to mine. He scanned me up and down. “Ready for bed?” he asked. “It’s only 8:30.”

  “Just looking at the draft Rory sent over earlier for our next edition,” I said, walking over to the computer and sitting back on the couch.

  “Oh, can I see?”

  “I didn’t take you as the vain type,” I teased, handing him my laptop.

  He blushed. “I hope I’m not coming off that way. I guess I just don’t see myself the way so many other people seem to. I’m hoping to maybe get the answers from your magazine.” He slid through the pages, swiping at the screen to bring up each new one. When he reached the end, he handed the laptop back to me and shrugged. “I still don’t get it.”

  I smiled and closed it down, then set it next to the couch. “Want a glass of wine?”

  “Sounds wonderful. In fact-” he stood and walked over to his coat. Reaching into a side pocket, he pulled out a tall bottle. “I picked some up on the way.”

  He handed it to me and I read the label as I walked to the kitchen. “Sounds fancy.”

  Mika shrugged. “Clerk recommended it. I honestly don’t know all that much about wine.”

  “Me neither,” I confessed, pulling a bottle opener from the drawer. “I tend to just grab something cheap from the bottom shelf and call it good.”

  He laughed at this. I turned to grab two glasses out of the cabinet. Setting them on the counter, I began the process of uncorking the wine. In the middle of my effort, Mika fit himself perfectly up against my back and wrapped an arm around my waist. With the other, he gently pulled my loose curls back and softly, gently kissed the nape of my neck. I felt my entire body shudder and I almost dropped the bottle of wine. Setting it back on the counter, I turned. His eyes had grown dark, as stormy as a troubled sea. I felt his arm that was around my waist tighten. He free hand gently caressed my face. Suddenly, his lips were on mine. They were warm. Soft. Inviting. They parted and our tongues touched playfully. One of us moaned, but I wasn’t sure whom, nor did I care.

  Both of his hands slid slowly, gently, to the backs of my thighs. Then he was lifting me up, setting me on the kitchen counter. My fingers were running wildly through his hair, the back of my head pressed hard against the cabinets. My eyes were closed in absolute ecstasy as he purposefully, methodically began to unbutton my top. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so that removed a significantly awkward step. This was going to be amazing. And anyway, what were we on here, really? Fourth date? Fifth? That was acceptable timing, wasn’t it? Hopefully he didn’t think that I was a total — gasp! His fingers were pushing hard against that spot. His lips were kissing my chest, prying at the remaining buttons with his teeth.

  My home phone started ringing and he paused. I clutched his head between my hands, holding his face to where he was poised, just at the small rise of flesh that was my heaving bosom. “Don’t. Stop.” I said through gritted teeth.

  “What if it’s one of your friends?” he asked, his voice buried in my chest.

  I sighed and hit my head hard against the cabinet. “Damn it,” I muttered. Struggling to button up my top, I flopped off the counter and hurried over to the phone. Scanni
ng the caller ID quickly, I groaned. “It’s my mother.”

  Mika smiled and picked up the bottle of wine that hadn’t quite been uncorked. “You should answer,” he told me. “They’re probably just worried about you.”

  Sighing heavily, I answered with a grumbly “hello?”

  “Well, thank goodness. I haven’t heard from you in days. I thought you could be dead. Don!” she screamed. “Don, she’s alive.”

  “I told you she was fine,” I heard my father grousing in the background.

  “Oh, who asked you?”

  “You did. You said, ‘Don, do you think Marian is okay? We haven’t heard from her in days.’”

  “Well, I just-”

  “Ma!” I said, cutting them off. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Well, how’s the case? Can you update us on the case? Your dad stopped trying to call after Barry wasn’t able to get anyone to connect with him. Hoped that would make a difference for you.”

  “Now really isn’t a good time,” I told her.

  “Well when would be a good time? You’re always so busy.” I could imagine her leaning hard against the kitchen counter, one hand feistily placed on her hip.

  “Saturday,” I promised her. “I’ll even come out for a visit.”

  She gasped. “Don, she said she’s going to come visit us! Saturday!”

  “I’ll bring Addie,” I promised. “Gotta go, love you.” I made a quick kiss noise and hung up the phone.

  When I turned around, Mika stood smiling in the kitchen, holding two glasses of red wine. “Close to your parents?” he asked.

  “Kind of,” I answered. “I mean, we used to be. But then when I started the magazine, things got a little rocky. We still love each other, I mean, I’d do just about anything for them. My brother and his family, too. But we were never the type to sit down and have dinner every Sunday, you know?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  We made our way over to the couch. He sat on one end, while I sat far away on the other. We sipped at our wine, talked about our families and laughed the entire night. Eventually, when we came to a comfortable lull in conversation, Mika smiled at me and took my wine glass. Setting both his and mine on the floor, he gently pulled me over to his lap and we laid down on the couch together. No words. Just holding. Granted, I’m pretty sure that, that wasn’t a gun in his front pocket, unless it was an unusually large, pointy gun.

  When I awoke in the morning, I found myself alone on the couch. Rising slowly, I glanced around the apartment, but it was empty. I listened quietly for noises down the hall, but there were none. I was alone. Puzzled, I stretched and stood. As I made my way into the kitchen, I found a note taped to the coffee pot.

  Had to meet a client. Call you later. PS: You’re quite the snuggler when you’re asleep.

  Quite the snuggler? I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but I had a feeling it would be embarrassing. Best to not ask any follow-up questions.

  After making a pot of coffee and munching on a bowl of cereal, I retrieved the wine glasses from last night and tidied up the kitchen. With my second mug of coffee in hand, I retrieved my cell from its spot on the counter, where it had remained unplugged the night before. I flipped briefly through my missed calls and texts. When nothing overly important popped up on the Food Porn front, I decided it was a safe bet that I could work from home. I retrieved my laptop and took up my position on the couch, curling my legs beneath me and balancing my computer on my knees. As it fired up, I took a sip of coffee and gazed out my windows. The sun was reflecting brightly off of the snow. I squinted, looking carefully out towards the city skyline.

  Wednesday flew by. I’d stayed perched on the couch nearly all day, making general edits and notes for Rory. By the time I sent everything back to him, it was well into the afternoon. I called Addison to check in and tell her about the cupcake debacle. Needless to say that she was thrilled when Mika had once again proven himself to be a knight in shining armor. While we spoke, I briefly pondered retrieving the creepy cupcake that was still sitting atop my neatly folded sheets but decided against it. It might be needed later for evidence. Plus, I had much more important matters from last night to focus upon.

  “Why didn’t he make another move?” I moaned.

  “Why didn’t you?” she challenged.

  “I haven’t known him that long.”

  “If he’s going to break your heart, he’s going to break your heart. There’s no way to avoid that. Do what you feel,” she told me. “Look, I have to go. We’ll chat tomorrow.”

  Something about the way she said “tomorrow” made me recall that Thursday was D-Day. Barry would be out of the office and Addison would be carrying out her evil plot. Whatever it was.

  Next, I left a message for Carly Ipson, as Janet had suggested. From the sound of her voicemail, she was out until next week. While I couldn’t necessarily wait that long to gain favor this time around among the department, I figured it couldn’t hurt to start building up for future usage. I left a cheerful message asking her to meet me for coffee when she was back in the office.

  Mika called, as promised, to check in. Before we said goodbye, he asked, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay tonight?”

  I smiled into the phone. “Yes. The creepy occurrences usually skip a day. I think I’m safe for today.”

  “I’ll be working most of tomorrow,” he told me. “But call if you need anything. Especially tomorrow night.”

  “I’d like to come see your workshop,” I told him. When I was met with silence, I quickly added, “But if that’s weird or it’s too soon, that’s totally fine.”

  “No, it’s not that. Um-” he paused. “We’ll make arrangements for that. Maybe Friday after dinner.”

  “Unless I’m dead,” I muttered.

  He chuckled. “I have no doubt that if anyone is meant to survive the circumstances, it’s you.”

  After we hung up, I spent the rest of the day alternating between napping, eating and watching Johnny Depp movies. I contemplated yoga — I hadn’t been since all of this craziness began weeks ago. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to drag all of my issues into an environment of zen. It just didn’t seem fair to the others that would be in class.

  Somehow, I managed to get up off the couch and into my bed that night. My dreams had been fitful, to say the least, and I awoke Thursday morning feeling anxious. I had no idea what Addison’s plan was that day, which made everything so much worse. How can you prepare for the fallout when you don’t even know what to prepare for?

  I wasn’t meeting Barry until noon and it was still early morning. I allowed myself to linger in the shower until the water grew cold. Once I’d gotten myself ready for the day, there was nothing to do but wait. If I went to the office, I’d probably drive Rory to the brink of insanity with my nervousness. I was far too jittery to drive, anyway. So I forced myself to relax, making breakfast tea instead of coffee. I did, however, allow myself the indulgence of Christian Bale’s company in the background, though I wasn’t really paying much attention.

  The home phone rang about an hour into my movie. On a Thursday morning, it was likely a telemarketer. I let it ring. It stopped, but immediately started back up again. “For goodness sakes,” I muttered, walking over to scan the caller ID. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was a local area code. Seeing as how I didn’t have any creditors after me at the moment, and considering the magnitude of my day that lay ahead, I decided it was in my best interest to answer. “Hello?”

  “Marian, it’s James.”

  I felt my blood run cold. “How did you get this number? It’s unlisted.”

  “There are other ways,” he said mysteriously.

  I gulped. “What do you want?”

  “Just wanted to call and check in. Make sure we were still on for tonight. Is your- your brother still there?”

  “No, he left,” I said, taking momentary satisfaction in his jealous tone. He totally knew that Mika wasn’t my brother. �
�And I’m still up for tonight if you are.”

  “Great. Should I pick you up at your apartment? Say around six?”

  “Sure. Whatever. You remember where I live.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not sure of the apartment number.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said coolly, hanging up the phone. I realized that I was shaking, my veins pulsing with adrenaline. I wasn’t looking forward to that night at all. Silently, I hoped that all would go according to plan, that Addison’s plot, whatever it was, would make the department see reason. That Barry would have a few more insights to offer when we met. That I would still be alive come the midnight hour.

  A short time later, my cell began to ring. Picking it up, I noted that it was Barry and groaned aloud. He only ever called on a day when we were meeting because he was running late. “I’m running late,” he told me. “I have a few errands that I need to get to. Can we meet this afternoon instead? Maybe two?”

  “That’s fine,” I told him. “Just text me where I should meet you.”

  “Roger that,” he said, and the line went dead.

  Sighing, I shuffled over to the couch. I once again debated leaving the apartment but decided that, for now, it was better to stay put. No use putting myself in harm’s way when things appeared safe and sound right here at home.

  I’m not entirely sure what time I fell asleep. I awoke with a start, a movie preview with a lot of guns going off blasting through my dreams. I checked the clock on the wall. 1:30pm. I’d need to meet Barry soon. However, when I looked through my missed texts, he hadn’t sent me a place to meet yet. I sent him a brief message. A few seconds later, my phone began to ring. “Hey, Barry, I was just wondering-”

  “Marian?” said a voice on the other end of the line. It wasn’t Barry’s.

  “Yes?” I asked, momentarily confused. “Who is this?” The voice sounded achingly familiar and yet, I wasn’t able to figure out whose it could be.