by Leslie Leigh
“That sounds good,” Harms said, “because there are Cochise County witnesses, too, who should be deposed.”
“I’ll arrange for all of that.” He looked at his watch. “I need to run to get her on the docket for this morning, but just one more thing. May I make a suggestion, Ms. Michaelson?”
“Please,” she said.
“Once you’re free to go, let someone else handle the investigation. It will only get stickier from here on out if you pursue it.”
Melissa pressed her lips together and nodded. His suggestion was disappointing, but she could understand it under the circumstances. She’d just have to direct from behind the scenes.
Chapter 2
“Ms. Michaelson,” the judge said. “You live at 1001 W. Main in Catalonia, Arizona. Is that correct?”
“It is, Your Honor.”
She knew this stern-looking judge with his geeky black-rimmed glasses. She had treated his wife several times, so Melissa hoped that influenced his thinking about her standing as an upright citizen.
“Ms. Michaelson, you are accused of the wrongful deaths of Lloyd Johnston of Sonorita and Anthony White of Bismuth. Do you understand these charges?”
“I do, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Blanchard is acting as your attorney?”
“He is, Your Honor.”
“Very well. This case is being referred to Superior Court for a preliminary hearing. I know you, Ms. Michaelson, and I am fully aware of your business and your ties to the community, so I do not in any way consider you a flight risk. However, due to the gravity of the crimes of which you are accused, it would send the wrong message if I set your bail too low. Bail is set at fifty-thousand dollars,” he said, and the gavel struck the anvil.
The bailiff took Melissa by the arm, and Blanchard followed them through the door, as he hailed Brian to follow them. The bailiff returned her to booking. He took her into the detention area but sat her at a table out front instead of putting her into a cell.
“Do you have arrangements for your bail, Melissa?”
“It’s no problem,” Brian said.
“Will you need to get a bond?”
“No. I’ll take care of it immediately.”
“Brian,” Melissa started, “I….”
Brian put his hand up. “Please, Melissa. Let me take care of it.” Before he could get out the door, an officer arrived with Flora at his side.
The officer opened the door, addressing Melissa, he said, “Your bail is paid, Ms. Michaelson. You’re free to go.”
Melissa stood with a surprised and quizzical look on her face.
“Flora,” she said, “you…?”
“I did,” Flora responded, “in cash.”
“Cash? Why didn’t you get a bail bond?”
“I didn’t want you to have to spend a single second more in this place than you had to,” she said, with obvious annoyance at the situation. “Besides, you’re not going anywhere are you?”
“Of course not,” she said, “but your money could be tied up for a while.”
“That’s fine. It has been sitting in my bank account for a while anyway. It can just sit here, instead.”
Melissa smiled at Flora. “Apparently, I’m well-taken care of.”
“I do need to get back to the store, Melissa. It’s Chelsea Bun Day, you know,” she said smiling and patting Melissa hand. “But I would like to talk with you and Brian before the day is out.”
“We can do that,” Melissa said.
Flora turned to go, but Melissa caught her arm and hugged her tightly. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s a good feeling to know that someone has your back.”
Flora just smiled.
After she had left, Brian said, “Let’s go back to your place? I’ll make you breakfast.”
“You’ll make breakfast?”
“Sure. Just because I let you cook all the time doesn’t mean I can’t cook.”
Scott Blanchard came around the corner. “I’ll need to get depositions from everybody. Byrne, can you give me a list of everyone who needs to be contacted?”
Brian nodded. “I’ll email them to you today.”
Mr. Blanchard shook Melissa’s hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “This will never go to trial. We’ll work to get the whole thing thrown out as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you,” Melissa said.
“Luckily, this caught me between cases in Phoenix, so I’ll work from my home office. Have you decided which Superior Court you want to go with?” Blanchard asked.
Melissa glanced at Brian who nodded to her. “Let’s go with Cochise County,” she said. “Not that it will make a lot of difference in anonymity; everyone up here reads the Sierra Vista Herald. Cochise is more convenient than Tucson, and less incestuous, if you don’t mind my use of the word, than doing it here.”
“I understand,” Mr. Blanchard said. “I’ll be in touch as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Brian and Melissa said simultaneously.
After Blanchard was gone, Melissa turned to Brian. “So, he really thinks he can get the whole thing thrown out of court?”
“We hope so. But you and I need to sift through some things in our minds, and maybe it would be good to bring Flora in on it. She would be a fresh brain that hasn’t hashed it over a hundred times.”
“True. I’ll invite her over this afternoon.”
“Good, then. Let’s go see about that breakfast,” Brian said, taking Melissa’s arm and escorting her out of the courthouse.
# # #
Flora came about four o’clock, and Melissa had coffee made when she got there. They all sat down at the table in the kitchen.
“So what happened this morning?” Flora asked. “And don’t leave out a single detail!”
“I was whipping up Chelsea Bun dough when I heard the door open,” Melissa said. “I knew it was too early for Kim, so I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands and run out there. That’s when I came face-to-face with two deputies. They told me they were arresting me for the murders of Johnston and White.”
“I came in right behind them,” Brian said. “Detective Harms had just called me to tell me that the evidence was missing and that Palick had wheedled an arrest warrant for Melissa.”
“Now, let me tell you something,” Flora said after she had heard everything. “I have no idea what it means or if it means anything at all, but when I came in to the market this morning, there was a fella sitting in his car just about two doors up. He stayed there till daylight; then, he drove by real slow, looking in.”
Brian and Melissa exchanged searching glances, but neither of them had any idea.
“Well, I just had a feeling that Lyle Dunnick or Dunnick’s lawyer had hired him for some reason,” Flora said.
“What do you think he was waiting for?” asked Brian.
“None of them would have any idea of our baking schedule, so I’m thinking that this guy intended to come in and take a look around or something but couldn’t because Kim and I were here. I think he was waiting, hoping we’d both leave until it got to be daylight.”
“I can picture the street—I didn’t see anything as I was running up when the deputies came to get Melissa,” Brian said.
“I do recall a vehicle that I didn’t recognize being parked in that spot when I came in, but I didn’t see anyone in it or think anything of it, really,” Melissa said.
“Did you unlock the back while you were baking, Melissa?” Flora asked.
“No. Just the front for Kim. Why?”
“Carl asked Kim and I who unlocked it. We assumed it had to be you.”
“Good grief,” Melissa said. “Who was the last one out the night before?”
“Carl.”
“Chances are he’s not the one who left it open, then.”
“Maybe the guy was in there when you got there, Melissa, and he hurried out the back way as you came in the front.”
“Well, that’s creepy,” Melissa said. “Wouldn’t we have not
iced some breach somewhere, though?”
“Not if he picked the lock,” Brian said. “You need to put a deadbolt on that door, Melissa.”
Melissa sighed. “Hard to believe that, not very long ago, nobody ever locked their doors in Catalonia.”
“I have to agree with Flora, though. Who else goes skulking around a market at night unless he was looking for money, which I doubt.”
“But what would he have been looking for?” Flora asked.
“Serum of Oleander?” Melissa ventured. “Looking for more evidence with which to frame me.”
“You don’t have any, do you?” Brian asked.
“No. That’s one for which I have no therapeutic use. There are other things not nearly as dangerous that can be used for the therapeutic effects similar to those produced by oleander,” said Melissa.
“I don’t know. If that’s all they wanted, they could just have sent someone in during the day to peruse the shelves. It must have been something else,” said Brian. He stared at the table for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Looks like for the time being, you’ve got yourself a new baker’s helper.”
“You?” Melissa laughed. “I’m sure the girls and I can handle it.”
“Would you and Kim know what to do if you came in here some morning and caught some guy skulking down the aisles?”
“I would,” Flora said. “I’ve got my pistol.”
“That’s all we need,” Brian said. “Something to further confuse the issue, like you shooting somebody.”
“What would you do, then?” Flora challenged.
“Um, I’ve got my pistol,” Brian answered, grinning. “It’s just that I wouldn’t want you girls confronting a situation like that alone. It’s not a sexist thing; it’s a protective thing on my part. We’ll have to keep an eye out for that car. Any description of it, Flora?”
“Let me think. Initially, they were sitting away from the streetlight, and the only reason I even knew somebody was in the car is that they used the cigarette lighter. But, when they went by just toward daylight, it was…an older model white Toyota, I think.”
Brian nodded. “Pretty generic, then, but at least I’ll have a general idea of what to look for. I really should report the suspicious activity to Harms, though.”
He went out back to make the phone call. When he was gone, Melissa asked Flora about Kim.
“She told me Brandon was gone. She gave him a hundred thousand in cash and told him he would get the rest once everything settled out.”
“The rest?”
“Yes, I guess she promised him two million dollars if he’d clear out and leave her alone.”
“Wow. And he was willing to leave with just a hundred thousand?”
“I guess they went to both her financial advisor and her attorney and had something legal drawn up so that he would be assured of it.”
“Good riddance.”
“I just hope it’s the last we see of the James gang.”
“Jesse and Frank had nothing on those two.”
They both laughed—although they were really thinking how sad it was.
Chapter 3
Melissa had asked Kim to come in at four on Saturday to help with increased Chelsea Bun making. Even though Brian was there, claiming to be her new “baker’s helper,” she was sure she would need Kim, too.
The day before, two coffee shops, one in Sonorita and one in Bisbee, had contacted Melissa to supply them with Chelsea Buns. She laughed to herself, wondering if she should open a second business solely as a bakery.
When Kim didn’t show by four, Melissa assumed that she had forgotten or that perhaps her alarm hadn’t awakened her. She tried to call when she shown up by 4:15 a.m., but there was no answer. At 4:30 a.m., Melissa tried Kim once more and then called Flora.
“Brian and I are going to run over to Kim’s apartment,” Melissa said. “If you don’t hear from me in fifteen minutes, just come on in.”
Melissa left everything as it was, and they headed out into the pre-dawn light. They hurried down the street and up the stairs of Kim’s apartment. Melissa rapped sharply on the door. When there was no answer, she knocked harder. Melissa had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach and glanced at Brian. He tried the door and found it open.
She called Kim’s name, but there was no answer. Had she gone off the deep end this time and gone after Brandon? Melissa wondered.
The apartment was still dark; Brian searched for a living room lamp while Melissa made her way to the bedroom. “Kim?” she called again. She reached on either side of the door frame but found no light switch. She walked toward the bedside table to turn on the lamp and heard crunching beneath her feet. She couldn’t see the bed, but it stopped her abruptly when she connected with it, and she felt an arm draped over the bed.
Melissa reached for the lamp and knocked over a glass bottle, but she was able to turn the lamp on.
Kim was on the edge of the bed, with her arm draped over the side, but Melissa saw instantly that she wasn’t sleeping.
“Brian!” Melissa called, as she shook Kim—who was still warm, but apparently unconscious. “Call 911! Tell them suspected overdose,” she said, as he came through the bedroom door.
Melissa rolled Kim onto her back and looked under her eyelids. Her pupils were dilated and barely contracted, even when she opened them to the light. She looked on the floor and saw that she was walking on pills. Then, she saw that the empty bottle she had knocked over was a vodka bottle.
She looked around frantically to see if she could find the pill bottle. It had rolled under the bed. It was a prescription bottle for sleeping pills.
Melissa swept her mouth and throat to see if she could find any evidence of the pills still in her mouth, but found none.
“Should we try to make her throw up?” Brian asked.
“No. It won’t take long for the EMTs to get here. They’ll pump her stomach at the hospital.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, they heard the sirens. Melissa sat next to her on the bed. “Kimmie, Kimmie. What have you done and why?” she asked.
Melissa’s old flame, Grant Martin, was the first through the door again, and Melissa handed him the pill bottle. He was always the point man for emergencies.
They stood back as the other EMTs came in and went to work.
“Bring the gurney,” one of the EMTs working on her said. “We need to get her to the hospital soon; her pulse is faint.”
In a matter of minutes, they had her on the gurney, out the door, down the steps, and into the ambulance.
Melissa started to step out of the bedroom, but Grant caught her.
“I need information first,” he said.
Melissa quickly related the sequence as Martin made notes. Then, he looked up, eyeing Brian.
“Always keep your PI by your side at 4:30 in the morning, Melissa?”
“As a matter of fact, I do these days,” she said.
“You can go on; I’ll finish up here. The boys from the county should be here any second. Hey,” he said, calling to Brian. “Are we considering this a crime scene?”
That thought hadn’t occurred to Melissa yet.
Brian spoke up. “Please treat it as such.”
Martin nodded, and Brian and Melissa stepped out into the living room. Then, Melissa turned back to Grant and said, “You should probably dust both the pill and the liquor bottle for prints. You’ll likely find hers and mine, but let me know if you find a third set.”
He nodded.
“Why do you suspect a third set?” Brian asked.
“You saw her yesterday,” Melissa said. “Did she seem suicidal to you?”
“No,” he said, “but….”
“Me neither.”
“I thought Brandon was gone.”
“So did I,” she said looking around the living room. “Look,” she said. On the floor, next to a lamp table lay a picture frame with broken glass. She turned around and looked back toward the bedroom and said, “Kim is so n
eat; if this had been broken with her knowledge, she wouldn’t have just left it on the floor.”
“There are not really signs of a struggle, though. Maybe she took the pills out here, and then stumbled into the bedroom, knocking the picture down as she went?” Brian ventured.
Now, they had Grant looking, as well.
“I don’t know if this is anything,” he said, bending over near the lamp stand, “but here’s a button.” He picked it up with a gloved hand and showed it to them.
“It looks like a button from one of Brandon’s polo shirts,” Melissa said. “That’s not a lot to go on, but again, as fastidious as she is, I’m sure she cleaned house after he left. It would be really odd for this button to still be here, especially in plain sight. If it had been hidden under something, I might tend to dismiss it.”
“All right,” Grant said. “I’ll definitely have it gone over as a crime scene, looking for signs of a struggle or any other signs of a man having been here.”
Melissa nodded. “Third time inside of a year that this apartment has been set up as a crime scene. I think it’s time for her to move.”
“If she gets to,” Brian said. “Here’s what I want to know, though. How does someone get somebody else to take pills and booze without their consent? It seems doubtful that he rendered her unconscious some way and then poured and stuffed it down her throat.”
“Especially since it was all swallowed. I might be able to see that if I had found undissolved pills in her mouth or throat, but there weren’t any.”
“Okay, then, let’s assume it was Brandon. We know he has motive, but where would he be now?”
Melissa stood and looked at him for a moment, thinking. “I’ll bet he has a flight out of Tucson today. It would be quite convenient to check into an airport hotel, rent a car to come back here, do the deed, leave her to die, and return the car.”
Brian already had his phone out. “I’m going to call the Tucson police department and see if I can get some help canvassing the airport hotels.”
They left Grant behind with a nod and hurried down the steps. As they got to the bottom, she saw the light on in Mrs. Stefan’s kitchen which was right below Kim’s apartment.