Raspberry Ripple Murder

by Abby Byne

  “But why would she want to?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s any money coming to her. Marco had a life insurance policy, but it was just for the kids.”

  “Are you sure that was the only one policy?”

  “Yes. Actually, no. I guess he might have taken out another one. He’s always paid his child support on time, and he’s always been very open about anything that might affect our children, but I doubt he’d tell me about taking out a life insurance policy to benefit his second wife.”

  “So, Marco and Jennifer really were officially engaged?”

  “Oh, yes. They’d set a date and everything.”

  “Even if Marco had wanted to take out an insurance policy to benefit Jennifer, I doubt anyone would have written him one,” Bitsie pointed out.

  “I know. I thought of that, too. According to Jennifer, she met him after he was diagnosed, but—“

  “You’re not so sure?”

  “No. I’m not at all sure. It all seemed to happen around the same time.”

  “What’s the name of the doctor who diagnosed Marco?”

  “A Dr. Montgomery, over in Fayetteville. But I’m sure he won’t talk to you. Patient confidentiality and all that.”

  “I know, but I want to find out as much as I can. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through all this,” said Bitsie. “I know you weren’t married to him anymore, but when you’ve loved someone once—well, you can never completely—“

  Raina reached over and wordlessly squeezed Bitsie’s hand.

  “If I find out anything of significance,” said Bitsie, “you’ll be the first to know.”

  Within hours, the police were back at the bakery doing what they should have done to begin with, which was taking a much closer look around. Stan called Bitsie to let her know. His old chief had given him a heads-up when Stan had called in to see if there had been any progress on locating Monty.

  “It’s officially a homicide investigation now,” said Stan.

  “What brought them to that conclusion?” Bitsie asked.

  “I bugged them about for one thing,” said Stan. “They took a look at the tape from the surveillance cameras on that ATM three blocks down from the bakery and what they saw—I should say, who they saw—was very interesting.”

  “Who did they see?”

  “According to the chief, there was an unusual volume of traffic past there for it being two in the morning—the cameras caught Monty Burge in front of the ATM.“

  “What was Monty doing?”

  “That camera only captures a small section of the street, but shortly after two o’clock in the morning, a woman driving a large red pickup pulls up to the curb. She gets out. She doesn’t go to the ATM, though. She walks out of the frame and doesn’t come back to the truck for almost forty-five minutes. The camera isn’t angled properly to see the license plate, and the woman is wearing a hoodie, so you can’t see her face real well, but going on your description of Marco’s ex-girlfriend, it could be her.”

  “What about Monty Burge?”

  “One of the officers who viewed the tape has arrested Monty twice before. He identified Monty right away. Monty’s only been out of prison for a little over a year, but he’s had a lot of minor run-ins with the law since he’d been out. I don’t know that anyone would be willing to testify under oath that they’re 100% sure it’s him, but yeah, they’re pretty sure.”

  “So, when does Monty show up?”

  “About five minutes after the woman walks away, Monty pulls up behind the red truck. He’s driving a black sedan. He doesn’t get out right away. He just sits there in the car for about ten minutes, then he abruptly gets out of the car and hurries away.”

  “Did the camera catch either of them coming back?”

  “Yeah. Monty Burge comes back first. He’s running. He jumps in his car and speeds away. Clips a fire hydrant with his front bumper on his way out but doesn’t bust it. I checked that out, and, sure enough, there’s a bit of black paint on the fire hydrant in front of the ATM.”

  “When does Monty come back?”

  “Around a quarter to three.”

  “What about the woman?” asked Bitsie.

  “It’s a few minutes after Monty peels out that she comes back, and she’s taking her own sweet time. She saunters up, smoking a cigarette. In fact, she’s leaning against her truck and finishes that one off before she lights up a second cigarette. She’s there standing by the truck until well after three.”

  “By that time, Hector and Anabel had already discovered Marco’s body, and the police were on their way,” Bitsie said.

  “The police arrived a couple of minutes after I did, and I figure the ambulance beat me by a couple of minutes. The ambulance is actually on the tape; it drives right by the red pickup, sirens, and lights going and everything.”

  “What does the woman do?”

  “Not much. She doesn’t even bother to go round the other side of the truck to watch it go by. A few seconds later the sirens stop—I guess that’s when it arrived at the bakery—and the woman drops her cigarette on the ground, grinds it out with her foot, gets in the truck and drives off.”

  “What do you make of all that?” asked Bitsie.

  “When Monty eventually resurfaces,” said Stan, “there’s going to be a line of people with badges wanting to ask him questions.”

  “What about Jennifer?”

  “I expect she’ll be called in, too.”

  Chapter Seven

  Bitsie could find only one Dr. Montgomery, a Jay Montgomery, in the Fayetteville phone book. When she called the number, she got a cheerful receptionist who informed her that Dr. Montgomery didn’t have an open slot for three weeks. No, she wouldn’t need a referral from her primary care physician, Bitsie was informed. This seemed very odd for an oncologist.

  “Is it possible that I could get in before three weeks if there’s a cancelation?” Bitsie asked.

  “I can put you down, but don’t get your hopes up,” the receptionist warned her. “June is a very big month for births.”

  Births? Bitsie wondered why a seasonal fluctuation in birthrates should matter to a cancer specialist.

  “If you are concerned about getting a checkup before then, I can refer you to another obstetrician,” the receptionist continued, “but, generally speaking, for new patients who are early in their pregnancies, she only refers you if you’re more than two months pregnant.”

  “Dr. Montgomery is a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  Clearly, Bitsie had reached the wrong Dr. Montgomery. She was sure that Raina had referred to Dr. Montgomery as “he,” and besides, there was a world of difference between an oncologist and an obstetrician. Bitsie incoherently thanked the receptionist and called Raina.

  “Would you happen to remember where the clinic was you went to when you had your appointment with Dr. Montgomery?” Bitsie asked. She could hear the sound of children playing in the background. “It wouldn’t happen to be on Oak Street near the Northside Mall, would it?”

  “That sounds right.”

  “Do you remember what Dr. Montgomery’s first name was?”

  “It was Jay. He had his certificates hung on the wall in the exam room.”

  “You’re absolutely 100% sure that Dr. Jay Montgomery that you met with was a man?”

  “Yes. I don’t understand—“ said Raina.

  Bitsie didn’t understand either, but she was starting to have her suspicions.

  “Did you notice anything at odds with it being a cancer clinic?” Bitsie asked. “For example: did you see posters on the walls relating to pregnancy or maybe pamphlets in the waiting room about breast-feeding. Anything like that?”

  “No,” said Raina.

  “Did Dr. Montgomery show you anything about Marco’s tumor when you went in to see him? Scans or images of any kind?”

  “Oh, yes. He showed us scans of Marco’s tumor on a tablet while we were in his office.”

&nbs
p; “Did Marco tell you where he went to get those scans done?”

  “No. He just said something about his doctor sending him somewhere to get an MRI.”

  “Dr. Montgomery sent him?”

  “I don’t know. I assume so.”

  “Would you be willing to go back to the clinic where you met with Dr. Montgomery? There’s something fishy going on. The only Dr. Jay Montgomery practicing medicine in Fayetteville is a female obstetrician.”

  There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, and then Raina said, “I can be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”

  Raina and Bitsie pulled into a parking space in front of a brick building that backed up to a strip mall. The outside of the building said, “Charter Health” in big metal letters.

  “I doubt we’ll be able to get a look into the exam room where you met with Dr. Montgomery, although it’s worth a try,” Bitsie said as they got out of the car and walked towards the building. “Looking for a bathroom is always a good excuse when you’re caught poking around where you’re not supposed to be, but even if we can’t get a look at the exam room, be on the look-out for anything that seems different from the last time you were here.”

  The waiting room was almost empty, aside from an extremely pregnant woman and a man who looked like an expectant father who’d chickened out at the last minute on going into the exam room with the mother of his child.

  The receptionist asked how she could help. Bitsie said they were just here waiting to pick up their sister when she was done with her appointment. The receptionist accepted Bitsie’s story without a hint of suspicion. Raina asked if she could use the bathroom while she waited, and the receptionist pointed her down the hall.

  Raina wasn’t gone long, and, when she returned, she was agitated. Bitsie, who had been pretending to read a magazine, said, a little more loudly than necessary, “We don’t need to wait for Sis. Greg just texted me, and he’s on his way—“

  Raina didn’t even wait for Bitsie to finish off her little white lie. She grabbed Bitsie by the arm and practically dragged her back out to the parking lot.

  “Something’s really wrong,” Raina said.

  “Tell me everything you saw,” said Bitsie.

  “I want to get out of here first.”

  They drove a block over to the parking lot of the main mall and sat in the car, with the windows rolled down. It was a warm day, and Bitsie could feel sweat forming on her forehead.

  “So many things were different,” said Raina. “The door to the exam room we were in last time was open, and it was empty, so I peeked my head in. I’m sure it was the same one. It had the same wallpaper, the same chairs, the same framed certificates on the walls.”

  “What was different, then?” Bitsie asked.

  “The posters were all different. When I went in before, it was all these posters of generic things. There was one of a whale jumping and one with a rock climber and one with a basket of kittens. I thought they were kind of strange for a doctor’s office, but sometimes, you know, doctors put up stuff like that.”

  “So, what had changed this time?”

  “Those generic posters were all gone. Instead, there were all these posters about the stages of pregnancy and what to eat for a healthy baby, and—I saw Dr. Montgomery, too. The real Dr. Montgomery. I am beginning to think that man I saw wasn’t a doctor at all. He can’t have been.”

  “I’m beginning to think the same thing,” said Bitsie.

  “Marco was getting scammed,” said Raina, “and I must have helped them do it. I feel terrible about that.”

  “You’ve been an innocent victim in all this,” Bitsie insisted, hoping it was true.

  She like Raina. She didn’t want to believe that Raina had been wittingly involved in a scam that might very well have turned into a murder, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t wise to eliminate any possibility on the strength of finding someone likable.

  But who could be behind such a cruel lie? And why would they want to fool a man into thinking he was dying in the first place? Then there was another possibility: Marco might have made up the lie himself and been the one trying to fool his fiancée or his ex-wife, or, weirder still, both of them.

  Stan suggested that the thing to do was try to find out who had been impersonating Dr. Montgomery. When it came to criminal investigations, Stan asserted, once you had the “who” figured out, the answer to the question “why” was easier to unravel.

  “But who would even be in a position to pull off a stunt like that?” Bitsie said.

  “Does Raina remember there being anyone else at the office when she went there the first time?” Stan asked, “She went there together with Marco, I’m assuming.”

  “Raina didn’t say anything about there being anyone else there, but she did say they went on a Sunday, which she thought was a little odd at the time. She remembers Marco telling her that Dr. Montgomery let him come in on Sundays, so he wouldn’t miss work.”

  “Very accommodating doctor,” said Stan sarcastically. “Who would have access to a medical clinic on Sundays when no one else was around?”

  “A nurse, maybe? Or a receptionist?” Bitsie suggested. “But that doesn’t seem very likely. How many male nurses or receptionists work in an obstetrics clinic?”

  “It could be a woman with access to the building who colluded with a male accomplice,” suggested Stan. “I think we should all go home and sleep on it. As I recall, someone has to be up and baking at 3 AM.”

  “It must be nice to be retired,” Bitsie joked.

  “If only it were that simple,” said Stan. “If I’m so retired, then why am I spending my evenings knee-deep in a murder investigation?”

  Bitsie laughed, but she wasn’t feeling very amused.

  It must all be connected: the fake doctor and his probably-bogus diagnosis, Marco’s “accidental” death, even the oddly-placed raspberry ripple cupcake. They were all related, but how?

  Another missing piece in the puzzle was still at the clinic, Bitsie decided. She needed to go back to the clinic after hours. She’d go back tomorrow evening, she decided, but she didn’t want to go alone.

  Bitsie considered asking Stan or Liz to go with her, but then remembered that the next day was their anniversary. It was ironic. Tomorrow was also the day her divorce was set to finalize. Her big brother would spend the day celebrating thirty-five years of happiness with his high-school sweetheart, while she would spend the day wondering why she’d been such a fool—

  But she shouldn’t dwell on that, Bitsie admonished herself. She should just get through today and worry about tomorrow when it came. The divorce would soon be over and done with, and she could move on with her life. In fact, she realized, she already was.

  Bitsie returned her thoughts to the original problem. Who could she ask to go with her to stake out the medical clinic?

  With Hector back at work, Bitsie luxuriated in sleeping ‘til the decadent hour of seven and lazing around in the bath ‘til nearly eight. She tried not to think about the fact that sometime today, she was going to be officially single again after twenty-seven years of marriage. She didn’t particularly want to be single again, but the prospect was no longer as horrible as it had once seemed.

  Her phone rang just as she was getting out of the tub. It was Stan.

  “Hey, Sis. Are you up to playing dogcatcher for me? Me and Liz are on the road to Eureka Springs, and we won’t be back ‘til tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Dogcatcher?”

  “You remember Bill?”

  “Yeah, has he shown up?”

  “Not exactly. But he did call me at home late last night. Wouldn’t say where he was. Said he was calling from a payphone, but where that payphone is, that’s anybody’s guess.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He’d like for us to locate his dog.”

  “What kind of dog is it?”

  “Male. Mixed breed Yellow Lab and German Shepherd.”

  “Anything else?”


  “Missing one ear and blind in one eye. The blind eye is all clouded over, kind of like a cataract.”

  “Does this dog have a name?” Bitsie asked.

  “Yes. He was last seen wearing a blue collar and answers to ‘Kipper.’”

  “At least he sounds easy to identify.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with Bill,” said Stan, “but I’ve never known him to go anywhere without that dog. Bill loves that mutt like it’s his little kid. He’d have had to have been pretty scared to leave in such a hurry that he’d leave Kipper behind. That convinces me that he saw or heard something he wasn’t supposed to.”

  “You think he really was in the alley the night that Marco died?”

  “Yes, but we won’t know what he saw or heard unless he feels safe enough to talk, and right now, he doesn’t even feel safe enough to tell me where he is.”

  “And what if I do find Kipper?”

  “You’ll have to keep Kipper with you ‘til we get back, I guess,” said Stan. “Bill says he’ll call back after the weekend to see if we found him.”

  Everyone Bitsie talked to seemed to know Bill, but no one she questioned could say for certain that they’d seen Kipper since Monday, the evening before Marco was murdered, which was also the last time anyone remembered seeing Bill.

  Bitsie made the rounds of every business downtown—she even hung out in front of Little Creek’s only grocery store and asked everyone who came and went if they’d seen a dog matching Kipper’s description, but her hours of searching resulted in no Kipper and no otherwise-useful information except a confirmation of what she already knew: Bill and Kipper had disappeared, and no one knew where either had gone.