Bakeries and Bodies

by Danielle Collins

  Then again, she didn't want to ask him about Fran, but she reasoned that it could be better to talk with him after she’d talked with Fran first. She had just signed in and was heading back to the room where she’d met with Fran before when a dark shadow crossed her path, drawing her up short.

  She looked up into the face of Detective Nelson. “What are you doing here?”

  Her anger immediately flared at his rude tone. “I’m here to visit Fran again.”

  “Haven’t you done enough already?”

  “Done enough—what are you taking about?”

  “You’ve talked with Fran, my daughter, Wade, Ken, and who knows who else. Do you make it a habit to pry your way into your boyfriend’s cases too?”

  His acerbic tone was Margot’s undoing. “You know what, Detective Nelson? My boyfriend happens to be an excellent detective who frequently consults with cases in Washington, D.C. I don’t know if you realize what an honor that is, but it is one. And the only reason I’ve taken an interest in this case is for the simple fact that you are holding the wrong person for this crime.”

  He looked taken aback, but he didn’t speak.

  “It was obvious to me from the moment I saw Fran with that skillet that there was no way she would have been able to have the force to kill Simon from one blow to the head. When you arrested Fran, I assumed there had to be more evidence, but I feel like it’s circumstantial. That’s part of why I’m here. Since you’ve arrested Wade, I assumed you’d be getting ready to let Fran go.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I feel like it is, in a small way,” she pushed back. “Fran is my friend and I’m baking for her at the bake-off. I need to know if she’ll be out to cheer me on. To make sure that you’ve done everything you can to find the real killer, because we both know it’s not Fran. She’s been lying about her relationship with Simon. Besides, you may have arrested Wade, but there are multiple people with motives to harm Simon. I’m sure you know that. And most of them have sketchy alibis at best.”

  Now, the detective looked shocked. “You really have been investigating this case.” He sounded more bewildered than angry, something Margot seized on.

  “No. Not really. I’ve just been having conversations with people and coming to a few conclusions. I’ve not gotten in your way and there’d be no way for you to prove I had.”

  His eyebrow rose.

  “You still could be interfering.”

  “You’ll be hard-pressed to make that stick and we both know it.”

  “Either way, I don’t need your help.” He sounded like a pouty child.

  “Then you’ve discovered the puncture mark behind Simon’s ear?”

  The detective looked shocked again. “How— Wait, how did you know that?”

  “I saw it when the EMTs rolled him over the day we found the body.”

  “I hate to say it, but I’m a little impressed.” It looked like the words had cost him. “But yes, we did find the mark. It’s part of the reason we’ve brought in Wade, truth be told. He’s a known drug dealer in this area and, initially, it looked like drugs were involved. But…” The detective let out a large sigh. “It looks like I may have been wrong.”

  “How so?” she asked, wondering when he would realize he was discussing the case with her and clam up.

  “The toxicology report came back negative for drugs in his system. I’m having them run a few more tests, but I may have chased the rabbit down the wrong hole.” He ran a hand through his hair and Margot felt sorry for him. He was obviously tired and working hard. She didn’t like his attitude or how he seemed to treat others, but she also didn’t want to be unnecessarily rude.

  “Have you considered—”

  “Don’t.” His tone shocked her. It was back to being short and snippy. “I shouldn't have discussed any of this with you and I could still bring you up on charges.” His conviction sounded like it was waning. “Why don’t you go back and talk with Fran. We’ll be releasing her soon. Then leave this case alone, Missus Durand.”

  She wanted to argue with him, to tell him there was more she could share with him, but the look in his eyes—cold and hard—warned her not even to try.

  “I’ll do just that.”

  She stepped past him and heard him exhale again. He was tired and this was a trying case for him, especially at Christmastime. She wanted to feel more compassion for him, but he made it difficult with his acerbic attitude. Either way, it sounded like Fran would be free soon and she was looking forward to telling Louise.

  Fran looked relieve to see her. Her color was better and she looked more alert as they talked.

  “I just don’t know what happened, Margot.” Fran spoke of the incident for the first time and Margot leaned forward to hear what the woman had to say about it. “I felt like I was in a daze. I always brew a cup of coffee—or Stephanie makes it for me—and drink it down first thing. That usually wakes me up. But this time, I felt…different.”

  “Was Stephanie there?” Margot thought she knew the answer to this question, but waited to hear what Fran said.

  “No, but she’d been late a few times before. Not usually that late, but it still wasn’t too bad, so I wasn’t worried yet. I just drank my coffee to get ready for the day, but then I started feeling…bad.”

  “Bad in what way?”

  “Disoriented. A little nauseous. Maybe a little paranoid? But maybe that was just being in the bakery so early by myself. It’s happened before.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I heard a noise at the door. I thought it might be Stephanie, but I couldn’t see her car in the front—she always parks out there even though she comes in the back—and I got scared. I grabbed the skillet and waited by the door. When the person came in—now I know it was Simon—I screamed and aimed for his head.” She choked down tears.

  “I’m sorry, Fran. I know this must be traumatic for you.”

  “I just feel stupid. I should have known it was him, shouldn’t I? But it was almost as if I was in a fog. A type of haze. I don’t remember what happened after that. I must have hidden in the pantry until you and Adam showed up.”

  Margot nodded at her assumption, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Was it possible Fran had been drugged? From her description of how she was feeling, it could line up that way. It was also odd that Stephanie hadn’t been at the bakery when she said she would. Margot knew she’d have to catch up with the woman and ask her side of things.

  “Well, I think you’ll be getting out of here soon. Do you have someone to take you home?”

  “Louise told me to call her. I’m sure she or Harvey will come and take me home. They are real good friends.”

  “They know how to get ahold of me if you need me. Hang in there, you’re almost free.”

  Fran smiled her thanks, wiping away a tear before leaning forward. “You’ve got to find out what happened, Margot. I mean what really happened. I cared so much about Simon and I can’t bear to think his killer will go free.”

  Margot almost told her about Wade being arrested, but decided to wait on that. She wasn’t so sure that Detective Nelson had made the right choice in jailing the man. There were still too many unanswered questions. At least, for now, she could be comforted by the fact that Fran would soon walk free.

  Chapter 12

  “So you told Detective Nelson about her relationship with Simon and about the puncture wound?” Adam leaned forward, his elbows resting on the small tabletop in the soup café he’d come to meet her at in town.

  “Unfortunately, yes. I didn’t mean to tell him about Simon, but it looked as if he’d already known. I wonder if Fran or his daughter Stephanie told him about their relationship.”

  “And yet he still ran you off.” Adam leaned back in his chair, swirling his soupspoon around the bowl of creamy chicken asparagus.

  “To be fair, he did tell me much more about the case than I’d ever expected. I must have caught him in a moment of weakness. But
I think he’s just anxious to close this up. I mean, it’s so close to Christmas. He’s got to be feeling the pressure.”

  “Yes. Not to mention Ken’s likely been putting pressure on him.”

  “That, I just don’t understand. I mean, what influence does Ken have?”

  “Not much, but enough. When Ken and Stephanie were dating, rumor was that Ken became the son Russ Nelson never had. They did everything together—hunting, fishing, hiking, you name it.”

  “So now Ken is using that to…what? Have him close the investigation early?”

  “No. I mean, from what I’ve heard, Russ isn’t a pushover nor would he shirk his responsibilities just to please a friend, but there are things that will move along more quickly if there is an end to this case. Wills and such.”

  “It’s about the money then? For Ken?”

  “I’d assume so,” Adam said, taking another bite. “But I won’t say that I know for sure.”

  “Right.” Margot stared off into the distance, culling all of the information she’d gained so far.

  “What are you thinking through?”

  “The case. The facts.”

  “What gives you the most trouble?”

  “The alibis.”

  “All right.” He reached over and took her hand. “Tell me. Talk it out.”

  They’d done this before—talk through cases to see if anything new might come to light. She organized the facts in her mind’s eye and began to relay it to Adam in as organized manner as possible.

  “We know that Fran came into the bakery at four in the morning. Stephanie was supposed to be there then as well, between four and four-thirty, but she never showed up. We also know that Fran said she started to feel dizzy soon after. And then she supposedly saw someone coming in and hit them on the back of the head with the cast iron skillet. Then, without calling the police or checking on who she hit, she went and hid in the pantry until we got there around six.”

  “Seems unlikely, doesn't it? Why didn’t she call the police?”

  Margot looked around to make sure no one was watching them. “I think she was drugged.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s the only logical explanation for her odd behavior. I thought she was in shock when we saw her, but what if she was just confused because of whatever they gave her?”

  “Who, though? And how did they know?”

  Margot shook her head. She hadn’t gotten that far yet. “Then there’s the others. Wade, who is supposedly a known drug dealer that your sister—along with Wade himself—claims he’s stepped away from. Bob, who’s had a running feud with Simon for the last five years. And Ken, who may or may not stand to inherit everything.”

  “That’s a long list.”

  “It is. Especially when Ken has an airtight alibi and Bob and Wade have none. I just feel like Ken isn’t telling the whole truth.”

  “Yes. Or there’s someone we haven’t considered yet.” Adam’s face scrunched up. “Or, we did, then didn’t.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Margot asked, trying to understand his logic.

  “What about Fran?”

  “What? We cleared her! That was the whole point of this, Adam.”

  “I know,” he said, nodding. “But what if she drugged herself? What if this was all part of an elaborate plan to kill Simon? Even her romance with him could have been faked. What if the puncture wound came after the hit on the head?”

  Margot leaned back in a huff. She’d decided to take on the case for Louise because she believed in Fran’s innocence, but now Adam’s option made her do a bit of questioning. Then again, she’d always trusted her gut feelings and she was feeling a lot of things about this case.

  “It’s just something to consider is all.”

  “I agree,” she said, letting out a sigh. “I just wish there was something we could do.”

  “There is one thing we could do now.”

  “What?” she looked up at him, curious as to what he was thinking about.

  “We can go check out Ken’s alibi. I'm sure that Detective Nelson already has, but that doesn't mean we can’t.”

  Margot’s eyes lit up. “You’re brilliant!”

  “I’ll settle for wildly handsome and smart.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  “Oh, you,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go!”

  Margot and Adam drove through the town to a small subdivision of neatly tended houses all in muted tones. The house at the end of the cul-de-sac had a neat, hand-painted sign that read ‘The Laclay Family.’ It was a towering two-story with a large front yard that wrapped around to a back yard. The house seemed big for the small neighborhood.

  “Wow,” Margot observed.

  “Doctor Laclay used to have a practice in town. He did well for himself.”

  “Did?”

  “He passed away several years back and that’s when his wife started renting out rooms. She seems to do well here with her few tenants.”

  “I see.” Margot followed Adam up the walk to the front door, where he pressed a bell and they waited.

  Finally, after a few minutes and one more press of the bell, the door opened to reveal a short woman with frazzled gray hair and bright eyes. “Adam Eastwood? Is that you?”

  He grinned and nodded. “Hello, Missus Laclay.”

  “Oh goodness, call me Anne. I’d dare say you’re past the age to use ‘Missus’ anymore.”

  “Of course, Anne.”

  Margot could tell that it felt awkward for him to call her by her first name, but she hid her grin.

  “This is my girlfriend Margot Durand.”

  “Nice to meet you, Margot.” Anne grinned, shook Margot’s hand, and then turned back to Adam. “What can I do for you? I'm in the middle of making some pumpkin bread.”

  “We hope it’s not too much trouble,” Adam began, “but we wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “Oh, where are my manners? Please, come in!” She spun on her heel and led them into a large sitting room. It was dated but clean, with framed photos of smiling people all over the shelves.

  Anne noticed Margot looking at the photos and she grinned. “Those were all the patients that my husband Larry helped. They send updated photos every Christmas.” She let out a contented sigh as she gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat. What questions did you have?”

  “Well,” Adam began, looking over at Margot, “did you hear about Simon Huxley?”

  “I sure did. So sad. I hear that Fran is going to be released soon, so that’s good. What about it?”

  “I had a conversation with Ken Huxley,” Margot interjected, “and he had mentioned that he was here during the time of the murder.”

  Anne’s eyes grew round. “You don’t think he had anything to do with it, do you? Wait a second!” Her gaze snapped to Adam. “Aren’t you a detective?”

  “I’m not investigating this, if that’s what you mean,” Adam said. “We’re just checking in to a few things. You know my mother. She’s worried about Fran and we want to make sure that the facts are straight.”

  Margot wanted to smile, what Adam was saying was the essence of investigating, but she knew he was trying to maintain distance for the sake of his job.

  “I understand that. Louise is a protective one. I suppose it can’t hurt to answer your questions. I mean, it’s in the best interest of Fran, isn’t? I may have Simon’s son living under my roof, but I was a loyal customer at Fran’s.”

  Margot felt the knots in her stomach loosen with relief. “We were just wondering if what he said was true. He’d told me that you have an alarm system that keeps a log of when it’s turned on and off?”

  “I do.” Anne pulled out a phone and tapped a few times. “See? It comes with an app and everything. At the time of the murder, the alarm had been armed at eleven the night before and I didn’t turn it off until at seven in the morning. Most of my boarders aren’t out the door until later anyway.”

  “And his room is upstairs?” Adam
asked.

  “Yes. The one at the top of the stairs, actually. It’s a very nice room with a view out into the back yard. But, I can tell you this, even if the alarm didn’t keep track. He was here.”

  “Why is that?” Margot asked.

  “These stairs.” She pointed behind her to the wooden stairs. “No matter how many contractors I talk to or “wood experts” visit, no one can seem to fix my creaky stairs.” She stood up and began to climb the stairs. They creaked with every step. “If we’d had children, it would have been a blessing when they were teens, but now it’s just plain annoying. Short of having them torn out and re-done, there’s nothing to do.”

  “And you saw Ken go up to his room that night?”

  “Oh, yes,” Anne said. “He had dinner with me and then turned in early. I was surprised because he’s usually out with buddies, on the town or something, trying to get more clients for his adventure business, but not that night.”

  Margot nodded. It seemed as if Ken’s alibi was rock solid, even if he’d deviated from his regular nightly rituals.

  “I’ve got one last question,” Margot asked, sending a glance at Adam before turning back to Anne. “How does the alarm work?”

  “Simple,” Anne said, walking over to the window. Margot got up and joined her. “See this wire?”

  Margot peered over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  “It connects to a sensor. It’s on all the windows and doors. If any one of them is opened, it’ll be disconnected and set off the alarm.”

  Margot thanked the woman for showing her and then Adam stood and came to join them. “Thank you so much for giving us a little of your time Missus— Anne.”

  She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Not a problem. I hope that you two can figure all of this out. And don’t worry—mum’s the word from me. No one will know you were here.” She winked conspiratorially at them and followed them to the door.

  “Thanks again,” Margot said as they left.

  Back in the car, she let out a large sigh. “That’s it. His alibi is airtight.”

  “That just means there’s someone else out there without an alibi.”