The sheriff looked liked he knew his way around pie. “Why, thank you.”
Pamela had several pies already boxed up. A young man with dark skin and sullen, almost black eyes stood next to her, helping tie the boxes shut. He was the same man Annie had spotted a few moments ago holding the older woman, Irina.
Where is Irina, now? Annie eyes searched the room to no avail. The woman was gone.
“That coconut cream?” Sheriff Bixby asked, mulling over the boxes.
“It’s actually pumpkin cream, a fall special,” Pamela said.
Annie surveyed the scene. The sheriff and a few others gathered around the counter where Pamela doled out her treats.
“I’d just have to throw it away,” she said. “You all may as well take some.”
Annie turned and looked out the window at the dead body of the young woman being slid into the back of the ambulance. She glanced back at Pamela handing out boxes of pie and the sad-looking young man next to her. It had to be the oddest crime scene she’d ever witnessed.
“Annie?” Pamela said. “Do you want some pie? I have the cherry that you like so much. I also have some of my special mincemeat.”
Annie knew the special mincemeat was only available for two weeks during the fall. It was one of her favorites—a delicious mix of hard-to-find local seasonal ingredients, the kind that was barely legal.
Pamela always remembered everyone’s favorites.
Annie’s stomach tightened. “Thanks but not today. I just couldn’t.”
“Well now, young lady, are you a little queasy?” the sheriff said with a patronizing tone.
Why, yes, I think I am. I just saw a frozen person with her throat slit being carried out of here on a gurney. But, on second thought, she took a deep breath. “Never mind,” she said, ignoring the sheriff and speaking just to Pamela. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got there.”
The sheriff turned with his boxes of pie and started to walk out of the Pie Palace.
“Sheriff,” Annie called out as she followed him. “Might I have a word?”
He turned to look at her just as he started to open the front door of the restaurant. His tan uniform stood out against the black and white tile floor and red booths.
She found the place kitschy and cute, but for some reason, this morning all the cuteness looked menacing. Murder amid the kitschiness. She didn’t like it.
“What can I help you with, Ms. Chamovitz?” he asked, smiling.
Oh, this is different. Very different, indeed. A smiling law official. No Adam Bryant with his sideways, smirking grins. “What do you think happened here?”
“I don’t speculate,” the sheriff said. “Call my office later today. We might know something then. But it being Saturday, you never know.”
“A walk-in freezer is an odd place for murder,” Annie said, watching him tense.
“Well, now, who said anything about murder? It could have been an accident or suicide. As I say, Ms. Chamovitz, I don’t speculate. I deal with facts.”
An accidental throat slashing? Let him think I’m that gullible. “I’ll call you later, then,” she said, noticing the medical examiner getting ready to leave. She wanted to catch her before she left. Annie extended her hand to the sheriff. “Later, Sheriff Bixby.”
He could not take her hand—his arms were full of pie boxes—but he nodded back at her, turned, and left the building.
“Ms. Jones?” Annie said as she walked over to the ME.
Ruth Jones looked up at her. She was an older, studious woman who had run into Annie frequently around town. “Yes?” Ruth dug her car keys out of a jacket pocket.
“What can you tell me about the body? About the death?”
“Not much at this point,” Ruth said. “It looks like she bled to death. But I need to run some tests, of course, to be certain.”
“How would someone get trapped in a freezer long enough to bleed or freeze to death?” Annie asked.
Ruth walked out of the Pie Palace carrying a big bulky bag and a pie box. Annie followed her outside into the fall morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, giving the sky a slate blue tinge. The waning moon was still visible.
“Why didn’t she just open the door?” Annie wondered. “If she was in there struggling with someone who slit her throat?”
“No, she wasn’t inside with someone. I don’t think so, anyway. Not like what you’re suggesting. There were about five hundred pounds of sugar blocking the door. She couldn’t have possibly moved it. I’m sure she’s less than a hundred pounds.”
“But that means someone else placed the sugar in front of the door while she was in there.”
“She was probably already dead when they did. But restaurants get deliveries all times of the day and night. Check with Pamela on that,” Ruth said, opening her car door. “Call me later. I may have some answers for you then.”
“Okay,” Annie said and stepped back from the car. She had enough to file her first story on the case. But she’d need more for the complete story. A lot more.
She mentally sorted through the evidence and possibilities. She didn’t know which was worse—the fact the young woman could have met her death in the freezer, crawling inside to get away from someone or that someone had killed her and then stored her dead body inside.
Notes
1 Make sure it is drippy. If not, you may need to add in extra liquid at the end.
Death Among the Doilies Page 25