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

by Allison Janda

  “It’s Lynette. From the precinct.”

  I nearly dropped the phone. “Hey, Lynette. It’s been a few weeks.”

  “I know,” she answered. “Hey, I know it’s a bit of short notice, but I was wondering if you were free to take some photographs.”

  “Photographs?”

  “For a crime scene. Over on Wisconsin Avenue.”

  “A crime scene?” Boy, did I sound intelligent.

  There was a pause. “Is this Marian Moyer?”

  “Yeah, Lynette, it’s me. I just- I haven’t heard from anyone over there in weeks. With everything going on, the case and stuff, I’m just surprised to hear from you. Who asked for me?”

  “The Captain,” she answered. “Said whoever they’ve been using is still too green. But for whatever reason, no one had been able to get in touch with you for a few days. As it turns out, your number was wrong in the system. I figured that one out,” she added proudly.

  “Lynette, my number has been the same one that has been in the system for years.”

  I could see her shrugging. “Don’t ask me. All I need to know is if you’re free to take a few photos this afternoon or if you’ve got other plans.”

  “I’m free,” I told her, still in a semi state of shock. Barry would have to wait. And I needed to call Addison and tell her to hold off. “I can be there in 30 minutes.”

  Lynette rattled off the address. I thanked her and hung up. Next, I tried calling Addison, but received no answer. I contemplated leaving her a message, but it seemed too complicated. I hoped it wasn’t too late to stop her plan, whatever it was.

  Call me. Important. The text to her sent, I checked again for a message from Barry. There were none. I sent him another follow-up.

  Clearly the whole incident with the police had been a mix-up. I briefly wondered how my number had gotten mixed up in the system, but didn’t allow myself to question it too long. I needed to get ready.

  I sent Barry another brief text that said I needed to postpone our meeting, but that we absolutely needed to still touch base that day. Gathering my cameras, I allowed myself a quick touch-up in the bathroom mirror before hurrying towards the door. I dropped my gear so that I could put on my coat, hat and mittens. Finding my car keys at the bottom of my purse, I slung everything back over my shoulder and opened the door.

  As I turned to lock up, I caught movement out of the left corner of my vision. Looking up, I was surprised to see none other than Barry. “Hey!” I said. “I just texted you. I can’t meet up right now, after all. The department just called and-”

  Slowly, he pulled an incredibly large, cold-looking revolver from his coat pocket. “Get back inside, Marian.”

  I was completely frozen. Have you ever had a gun pointed at you? I hadn’t. For the record, you pretty much want to pee your pants. At least, that was my initial reaction. Fear was followed by shock. “Barry?” I asked, unable to compute why he was pointing a gun at me.

  He motioned the gun towards the door. “In. Now.”

  Now I was starting to get pissed off. I don’t take kindly to orders. Unless those orders include “take off your pants.” I turned to face him and raised my gaze to meet his. “No.”

  “Excuse me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I have the gun, here.”

  “What are you going to do, Barry? Shoot me in the middle of the hallway?”

  “If I have to.” His eyes grew even colder. Something told me that he wasn’t kidding. I stood there for another beat, weighing my options. Sure, I could tear down the hallway, screaming at the top of my lungs. However, with the exception of crotchety, deaf old Mr. Hanley, my neighbors were mostly young working professionals with day jobs. I had no doubt that Barry’s gun, unlike my own, was fully loaded. I imagined myself being shot in the back, writhing on the floor of my apartment complex while he walked away. I’d be discovered, stone-cold dead in a few hours. The building had no security cameras. I’d just be one more dead body in a string of Food Porn related murders. A second option was to unlock my door and try to dart inside without being followed, but that didn’t seem very likely seeing as how, again, he was holding a gun. He’d probably just shoot his way through. The third option was to just do what he said and pray that somehow, someone would come save me. While I wasn’t a huge fan of the damsel in distress motif, I didn’t see much other choice that resulted in my remaining alive. With an angry huff, I turned and unlocked the door. “Atta girl,” he whispered, menacingly.

  “Shut up,” I muttered. As soon as I went to push the door open, Barry shoved me inside and followed quickly behind. For a moment, my mind went to the gun stashed in my purse and I went to dig. I panicked when my hand couldn’t seem to find it. Suddenly, I remembered. It was in my bedroom, put back into my dresser after the whole misunderstanding with Mika.

  He seemed to sense my frustration. “Are you missing something?”

  “Nope.”

  “Where’s your gun?”

  Damn it. I refused to answer or make eye contact. I tried to think quickly, but my mind was a jumbled mess of fear and anger. I had to focus.

  “Where?!” Barry screamed, jabbing the gun into my chest.

  “It’s at work,” I lied, easily.

  He studied me for a moment. “You’d better be telling the truth.” Motioning towards the couch, he added “go sit down.” My phone’s chipper ringtone began to sound. I desperately wanted to answer with something as natural as a bloodcurdling scream, but decided to wait for instruction. When I got to the couch, I turned around and sat down, placing my purse at my feet. Barry stood by the coffee table, his gun leveled at my head. “Kick your purse over here,” he told me. When I did, he began rifling through it, throwing things on the ground as he went. My wallet. A coupon. My notebook. A tampon. “Jesus,” he muttered angrily. “How do you even find anything in here?” The phone had stopped ringing by that point. When he finally found it, he checked the screen for the missed caller. “Addison,” he scoffed. “Bet she’s calling to tell you there was a little mix-up over at the police station.”

  His evil smile took on a slightly unhinged quality. Without warning, he threw my cell phone to the ground and stomped on it with his oversized, steel-toed boots. “Hey!” I cried angrily. “What the hell did you go and do that for?” He shrugged, but continued to smile and point his gun at me. Now I was less afraid and a lot more pissed off.

  Just then, my house phone began to ring. The two of us stared at it until it flipped over to the message machine. My pleasant greeting ran and then clicked over for the caller to leave their message. “It’s Addison, I need you to pick up the phone.” There was a short pause. “Please, Marian, this is really important.” Another short pause. “Well, I just tried your cell again and from the sound of things, you’ve turned it off. Call me, Marian. As soon as you get this. It’s about Barry. We have to talk before the two of you meet.” She paused again and sighed. “Please.”

  I continued to stare at my one remaining outlet to the outside world and prayed that Barry wouldn’t smash it, too. Thankfully, he was far too distracted by his own genius to do any further damage for the time being. “I can’t believe you didn’t figure this out sooner, Marian,” he said, gleefully. “You were so convinced that it was James!”

  Okay, he had me there. The more excited he got, the more he was flinging around the gun. It was making me nervous. I had to keep him focused until I could figure out a plan. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill Alec?” I asked.

  He scoffed at this. “I wasn’t trying to kill Alec, stupid. He just got in the way. You want to know what they found in his system in addition to poison? THC. A lot of it. As fate would have it, he got the munchies and decided to break into the studio the night before the photo shoot, knowing full well that Yummy Tummy would have already delivered the goods.”

  “Did you poison all of it? Every single thing they delivered?” I asked incredulously. That would have been a lot of work. Not to mention a huge risk
.

  “Just the cupcakes,” he answered. Then, with a wink, he added, “You never could turn down sweets, could you?”

  Again, he had me there. Distractedly, I rubbed my belly, which rolled just slightly over the waist of my pants. Barry looked momentarily disgusted by my soft gut, but then began to dig deep into his coat pockets. Finally, he retrieved something small and silver. He threw it to me and I fumbled briefly, but caught it. It was the pin I’d been wearing on my date with James.

  “You’ll recall that Addison gave it to me. The night your car exploded. Said that there was a recording of your entire date with James. I knew someone had to have a copy.”

  As discreetly as possible, I pushed the tiny pin-sized button on the back. It probably wouldn’t connect to anything, but it sure was worth a shot. “You’re the one who broke into my apartment,” I said, taken aback. “That’s why you were in the neighborhood! That’s why you responded first to the break-in call!”

  “Amazing how easy it is for you to put the puzzle together now that you’re not filled with a sense of revenge for your playboy lover.”

  “But- my car exploded, first. James picked me up at the studio instead of meeting me!”

  “That was just a big old coincidence,” Barry laughed, but then his face grew dark. “I should have anticipated a remote starter in Wisconsin.”

  “The flowers!” I cried. “Why didn’t the florist remember you?”

  “I hired an errand boy. Already had the card written and sealed. Paid cash. Addressed it to the magazine, not you specifically. The fact that Mika went in to purchase flowers for you a day later, again, was pure coincidence. Can you blame their front office for not remembering some pimply teenager on an errand, but being able to give you an ab-by-ab description of a model? That model?”

  My head was spinning. I was glad to already be sitting down. If I wasn’t, I think that I may have fallen over.

  “You broke in again. The other day.”

  “I just wanted to ruffle your feathers a bit. Things were getting a little too intense. It’s important to have a little fun too, right?”

  “You’re sick.”

  “Maybe a little. You know, I think the best part was just how much you wanted to believe me. Every word I said, you lapped it up like a stupid dog. I convinced you that the department was out to get you. I inverted your phone number in the calling tree so you wouldn’t be asked to photograph and you’d feel like the kid who got sent to the corner. The night your car exploded and Addison told me about the recording of your date, I knew that if I could just find that damn audio recording, I could frame James and be the hero of the hour. It would have been almost more enjoyable to kill you at that point,” he added. “After you testified against him. Put him away for life. Then I kill you. And you carry that guilt with you to your grave knowing that you’re the only one who can exonerate him.”

  I prayed that the pin was somehow recording all of this. If I didn’t make it out of here, I at least wanted my friends to be able to prove that Barry belonged in the loony bin. “Who were you trying to kill, exactly?” I asked. “I mean, I realize that I’m clearly a target. But I don’t really understand why. Were you after anyone else?”

  “Of course not,” he answered. “That’s your problem, Marian. You never bother to try to understand anyone but yourself and your little circle.”

  “You were in my circle!” I shouted. I was livid — totally and completely beside myself with anger towards this man that I’d treated as a friend.

  “Then how did you not know that I moonlight as a pastry chef?”

  The last pieces were falling into place. I felt like I’d been slapped. “A chef? You mean, you work with Yummy Tummy. That’s how you managed to poison our order. You were the last one to see it before it was delivered,” I gasped. “You’re the one who ordered the exclusive with us!”

  He shrugged again and smiled. “James and his partner came into a lot of money when they were private investigators. Frankly, I don’t think he had a partner. No one has ever seen the guy.”

  “James is a PI?”

  Barry seemed delighted by my complete naivety. “He used to be. As in, he’s not anymore. Solved a case one time down in Tennessee. A big one. Moved back here after that to avoid the notoriety. He and his supposed partner freelanced for the MPD when the department was overloaded, but they didn’t want to be looked to as saviors. The department managed to keep their names out of the press. Then came retirement.”

  “That’s why Addison never picked up on it. James essentially doesn’t exist for the police. Even his payroll, whenever it existed, was probably under a fake name.”

  “Thank God your degree wasn’t a total waste,” Barry muttered. “It was so expensive. Anyway, James and his fake partner invested in a few startups, including a dot com company and became billionaires. One of the startups was mine, of course. Yummy Tummy, Inc.”

  “But no paperwork refers to you as the CEO. Anywhere. No reviews mention you. You’re a ghost.”

  “Exactly. The whole business was set up.”

  “Just for this?”

  “Just for this.”

  “That’s a lot of hatred, Barry. You ever think about talking to a therapist?”

  A vein in Barry’s neck bulged and his face went red with anger. “Shut up!” He screamed, waving the gun in my face. I felt myself shrink back into the couch, my eyes wide with fear.

  I was quiet for a long while after that. When I finally spoke, I was thoughtful. “I still don’t understand why you’re trying to kill me, though. You moonlight as a pastry chef. You own your own pastry shop. We’ve never reviewed you, until this month, and believe me, the reviews are glowing. Why all the hatred?”

  “You probably didn’t even taste anything,” he said sadly. “Not after Alec’s untimely demise.”

  “But you’d never know it from the reviews!” I said, very chipper. “So…why do you want me dead?”

  He laughed bitterly. “Is it really so difficult for you to guess? Think, Marian. Think really hard.”

  I thought. I thought as hard as I possibly could, given that I had a gun aimed at me. Still, nothing popped immediately to the surface. I shrugged helplessly.

  “What did I want to be? More than anything else. All through high school. All through college.”

  “To act?” I asked.

  “You mean to model,” he told me. “Acting was a means to modeling,” he sighed and wagged the gun at me again. “Don’t you ever pay attention to anything?”

  “I guess not. But in my defense I was pretty absorbed in a few things. Starting a publication that I wanted to be nationally known, for one.”

  He snorted. “You ruined my dream because you were selfish. How original.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Every. Single. Modeling call!” he screamed. I shrank back into the couch again as he glared, pacing back and forth. I prayed that I would become invisible. It wasn’t working. “I came to every. Single. Modeling call you’ve ever had,” he howled. “And I’ve never once made it through the doors before you found your guy.”

  “Wait a second,” I said, growing irritated again. I was back to being pissed off. “You wanted to kill me because I wasn’t your gravy train? I worked my ass off to get to where I am.”

  “I was your friend,” he cried. “You should have wanted to help me.”

  “You should have just asked!”

  Barry laughed bitterly. “Oh, is that all I had to do?”

  “Probably not all, but it would have been a great start.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I suppose it’s too late for that now.”

  “If you let me go, I’ll see what I can do,” I pled, trying hard to keep my voice level.

  He laughed again. This time, there was no feeling behind it whatsoever. My body grew cold. That probably wasn’t good. “I can’t do that, Marian.”

  “Well, why not?”


  “You expect me to believe that we’re just going to forget about this? That no one else knows I’m here?”

  “No one does!” I said. “Who else could possibly know?”

  He was contemplative. “I guess that, that’s true.” He paused. “But Addison has probably pieced it together. I didn’t leave much of a trail, but now that she suspects, it won’t be hard to fit the pieces together. What do we do about that, Marian?”

  Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Marian, it’s Richard.”

  Barry glowered and turned to look at the door before whirling back towards me. “Richard?” he mouthed.

  “Richard?” I asked loudly.

  “Yes. From the other night. With Addison. The van,” he said through the door.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered quietly. It seemed as though activating the pin had made me live somewhere out in the world after all. Now what was I going to do?

  Being live right now was incredibly unfortunate. It’s not like I would have let Barry off scot-free. Still, I didn’t need to let him know that until I’d busted free. Something told me I’d been close to leniency — possibly even escaping without so much as a bleeding wound. Now, though. Now, I was probably screwed.

  “What do you want?” Barry asked him loudly. He kept pointing the gun at my forehead, but occasionally began to slide it towards the door, just in case someone decided to break through.

  “Hey, Barry. I’m Richard.”

  “I don’t care if you’re the pope. What the hell do you want?” Barry asked again, leveling the gun at my head once and for all, staring at the door.

  “I want you to tell me what it is you want, Barry,” Richard said kindly. I’d never seen the man, but I imagined he looked a bit like a soft, old grandpa. I was sure he’d be the kind of grandpa that bounces his grandkids on his knee while reading them books. I liked Richard. I really wanted to meet him. That probably couldn’t happen if I were dead. I had to think of something while I still had brains to think.

  “I want to be famous!” Barry shouted at the door, deranged. “And Marian could have launched my career!”