As much as she hated giving up even that much control, Marilyn knew he was right, and nodded, letting herself be led to his car. She was incredibly thankful when she saw that his unit was unmarked, so at least she wouldn’t feel like a criminal. She took several deep breaths, trying desperately to calm down. She wouldn’t be a help to Tiara or anyone if she couldn’t get rid of the horrible feeling creeping up her spine, threatening to overwhelm her completely. She kept quiet, her thoughts whirling miserably, for most of the ride to the police station, but eventually couldn’t contain her curiosity.
“Who was the woman in the shop? The one who went to the bathroom? Have they found her?” Marilyn asked Bernard Cortland, as if he was no longer an adversary, but an ally.
“I’m not able to discuss those kinds of details about the case with you,” he said, opening the car door for her when they pulled up to the station. She stood waiting for an answer, and the detective sighed, knowing she’d badger him for quite some time before giving up. “I believe she’s down at the station as well.”
“Thanks,” she said to Cortland as he closed the car door. “I don’t like that man, McNabe,” Marilyn said, pursing her lips. She looked over at the detective for a reaction, and thought that she may have seen him smile just a tiny bit, saying nothing.
Panic set in when they entered the station and Marilyn strode right past the reception area looking for Tiara. The young woman was nowhere to be seen in the busy room filled with desks and officers. She noticed a closed door with the shades drawn and walked over, rapping loudly on it. When her knock wasn’t answered immediately, she rapped again, more loudly this time. The door opened and she saw two uniformed officers and a woman she’d never seen before, seated at a table.
“She’s not here,” Cortland’s hand was suddenly on her elbow, directing her hastily away from the interrogation room. The detective gave a thumbs up to the uniformed officers and they closed the door.
“Where is she?” Marilyn demanded.
“On her way home, apparently they just finished with her.”
Marilyn battled an overwhelming urge to sit on the floor in the middle of all the desks and cry. She needed to see her daughter. She needed this to go away. She needed more oxygen. Bernard continued to guide her by the elbow. “Why don’t you call her?” He suggested, leading her into his office to buy some time, hoping she’d calm down.
Marilyn pulled out her phone and hit her daughter’s speed dial number. The call immediately went to voicemail, Tiara’s sweet voice came on and Marilyn imagined how uncomplicated life must have been when she’d made that message. She hung up without leaving a message, knowing that Tiara would see it and call her back.
“Was that her? Was the woman in that room the woman who was in my shop when Fergus died?” Marilyn asked the detective. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, staring hard at her.
“I’ll be right back,” she jumping up and heading for the interrogation room. The woman had just left and was now nearly to the exit door. Marilyn waited until the woman was no longer accompanied by police officers, then walked casually out of the building behind her.
The mystery woman had short frizzy blonde hair, and looked younger then Marilyn but her clothing was frumpy and made her seem older.
“Excuse me,” Marilyn called out, trying to keep her voice from trembling. She smiled when the fair-haired woman turned around. Close-up, her face seemed even younger - late thirties at most.
The woman gave Marilyn a wary look, which was completely understandable, under the circumstances.
“I’m sorry to bother you, I’m Marilyn Hayes, I own SubLime Sweets…the shop you went into yesterday…My daughter was the tall thin blonde girl, Tiara.”
“Okay,” the blonde continued to look at her suspiciously.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to say thank you. Tiara said you really jumped into action calling for help so quickly…” Marilyn fudged around the truth a bit. “If circumstances had been different you may have saved Fergus’ life.”
“I’m Tammy Barker,” She held out a doughy hand. “I wish I could have been more help but…it’s so sad, I thought he had a heart attack or something, he just sort of slowly fell to the ground.”
“So sad,” Marilyn agreed, shaking her head to mirror Tammy’s body language. “Isn’t it terrible? He was a friend of mine, a really nice guy. Fergus came into the shop at least twice a week.” She studied the younger woman’s face for a reaction of any kind.
Tammy lightly placed a sympathetic hand on Marilyn’s forearm. Her face seemed so genuine…
“I’m so sorry you had to go through this on your vacation,” Marilyn added, trying again.
“I can’t complain, I’m still alive,” She crossed her arms and shuddered as though a shiver had run down her spine.
“When you walked into the shop, do you remember what you saw?” Marilyn asked, trying to sound merely curious.
“Oh, yes, I remember very well. I walked in and …your daughter?” she questioned, remembering. Marilyn smiled and nodded. “She was in the front of the shop with a guy, handsome, maybe early thirties.”
“Drew”, Marilyn thought, trying not to grimace.
“…I talked to an older woman who had to ask your daughter if I could use the restroom so I can only assume she’s new.”
“Good deduction,” Marilyn thought, nodding her encouragement.
“The girl…your daughter, told me to be careful because there were two men doing work and there might be tools on the floor, I remember because I didn’t see any tools on the floor,” Tammy cocked her head to the side as though she found that odd.
“What were the men doing?” Marilyn prompted.
“Well I only saw one, a very large man.”
“You told the police this?”
“Of course,” the woman looked offended. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Good, good…” Marilyn tried to look supportive and understanding, wondering where Joe had been when Tammy was walking to the bathroom. “And then…?” she led, wanting the woman to continue.
“Then I went to the bathroom…” Tammy said matter-of-factly.
“And… after that?”
“I came out, I don’t know if I saw the other repair man or not, because I wasn’t really looking…I got halfway to the front when I saw the man…the one who…” she shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to finish her sentence.
“Fergus…” Marilyn naturally inserted his name then kicked herself for interrupting, but Tammy resumed speaking as if on cue.
“He was, well he must have been walking away…out of the store, because he was turning around…that’s when I saw his face, it was so…his eyes were big, and he was changing color. I think he grabbed the edge of a table then sort of slid to the sidewalk. I stayed until the ambulance came.”
“I arrived right as the ambulance was taking him away,” Marilyn nodded. “I don’t remember seeing you before…Do you remember seeing me” Marilyn tried to run through the images in her memory.
“Maybe, we may have just missed each other in the commotion, I suppose,” Tammy shrugged.
“Do you mind my asking where you’re staying?”
“The Inn at Key West, but I’m leaving Tuesday to go home.”
Marilyn thought that the woman’s accent was a dead giveaway, but wanted to find out for sure. “Where’s home?” she asked casually, trying to make it sound like she was just having a friendly conversation.
“Texas…Houston.”
“That’s nice,” she nodded. “Well, safe travels!” Marilyn said goodbye and watched Tammy leave in a small rental car, wondering why she would have lied about staying until the ambulance came. What purpose could that possibly have served?
Chapter 10
Before heading home, Marilyn pulled out her cell phone. Tiara hadn’t called her back yet, but an idea occurred to her and she found another number on speed dial.
“Joe?”
“Yeah,” the voice on the end
of the phone answered gruffly.
“It’s Marilyn…Marilyn Hayes from SubLime Sweets.”
“Hey, Ms. Hayes, has there been any break in the thing with Fergus yet?” the young man’s tone changed perceptibly when he found out that Marilyn wasn’t a cop or a reporter.
“Not yet, but I’m sure there will be soon,” she lied smoothly, having no earthly idea.
Marilyn listened to the silence on the other end.
“Joe?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“Can you tell me what you remember from yesterday? Every detail, no matter how small…” she pleaded.
“I don’t remember much, just that guy falling over and everyone sort of panicking,” the young man admitted, apologetically.
“So you’d never seen or met Fergus Downey before?”
“Nope.”
“So what happened when you and your dad walked into the shop that day?”
“Tiara was talking to a guy and a new lady was behind the counter when we walked back to look at the ovens.”
“Then?” She prodded the taciturn young man, feeling as though she were pulling teeth.
“We could tell what the problem was almost right away. We opened the one of the ovens up, and it was an easy fix. That sometimes happens with older ones, you know? Then we checked a couple of other things just to be sure. We heard a woman scream something—blonde short hair, old…”
To Joe’s young twenty-something mind Tammy obviously appeared old to him…maybe it was just her lack of style that aged her.
“…and then someone yelled about calling nine-one-one and… then an ambulance came.”
“Did you call the ambulance?”
“No, someone else did.”
“You saw someone else calling?” Marilyn asked.
There was a pause, “No, I didn’t see them but…I don’t know how I knew. Maybe I heard them or something…”
“So the young guy who is perpetually on his cell phone doesn’t use his phone to call for help?” Marilyn thought, kicking herself for being so judgmental. “And you don’t know Fergus?”
“Nope.”
Marilyn nodded to herself. “Is your father there?”
“I can have him call you back,” Joe answered vaguely.
“If he’s busy I can wait,” she persisted, determined.
“No, he’s not here, he ran out for a part before our next call.”
She scrunched her brow in frustration. “Ok, then yes, have him call me as soon as he gets home, ok?”
Something seemed a little off…Joe seemed like the most natural candidate to call 911, the young man always had his nose glued to his phone. But, maybe he just assumed that someone else was doing it. If he didn’t see the call placed, then it had to be Susan, Tiara, or Drew who called, and Marilyn would swear that Tiara wouldn’t have left that out of the story. It had already been established that Drew had stayed beside Fergus the entire time, so Susan must have called 911.
Chapter 11
Marilyn walked back inside the police station. Before she went back to Bernard’s office, Marilyn took a seat in the waiting area and pulled out an old envelope and a pen from her purse.
Poison?? Natural cause of death??
What kind of Poison?
Who called 911? Susan?
Why not Joe with phone and where was Joe when T. walking to B Room?
Tammy just appeared at that moment??
Larry the repair man?
Susan?
Drew?
Stranger? Random act of violence? Something totally unknown?
She carried her list and was going to go back to Detective Cortland’s office when the officer at the reception desk stopped her, Ma’am, you’ll have to wait in this area. You need permission and an escort to go any further.”
Marilyn had clearly raised the desk sergeant’s ire by running back unannounced the first time that she had come in that evening. She did as she was told and waited patiently while he called Cortland. When Bernard instructed him to escort her back, Marilyn tried to keep the triumph out of her polite smile.
“Do you know what the poison is yet?” she blurted, when the sergeant closed Cortland’s door.
“What?” the detective frowned, confused.
“You said it was a chemical compound. Fergus died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, and the doctors noticed something weird, and it must have been traceable in his blood since that was the major tip off right?”
“That’s not information that is divulged to interested parties,” Bernard said leaning back into his chair. “You talk to Tammy?”
Marilyn nodded her mind bouncing around in several directions. “She says she stayed until the ambulance got there but I don’t think she did…and Joe didn’t call 911, it didn’t even sound like he thought to call.”
“People react strangely sometimes, you never know what they’re going to do in high stress situations,” Cortland shrugged. “The uniforms are done at your house now, I could drive you over there if you’d like,” he offered.
Marilyn caught herself gazing into his eyes. He looked tired, but still focused and intense. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, too exhausted to pull any punches.
“No idea,” he shrugged again. “Maybe I’d like to solve the case so Miami can stay out of our business in the future.”
Marilyn nodded. Whatever works.
Chapter 12
When Marilyn came home, Tiara was sitting on the couch in sweat pants and a well-worn college tee-shirt, her hair wet and smelling of shampoo. She sat down next to her silent daughter, who refused to look at her. Picking up the remote, she put the movie that seemed to have captured the young woman’s attention entirely, on mute. Tiara looked over and Marilyn could tell that she’d been crying.
“Well, here we are,” Marilyn regarded her daughter with concern. “The local detective, the nice, good-looking one, says you probably need a lawyer, and I think he’s right.”
Tiara pressed her lips together, tears welling in her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks.
“You need to be honest with me, sweetie. The detective from Miami told me about the job that you turned down,” she said gently, without judgment or accusation, despite her bruised feelings. Tiara looked up, eyes wide. “He also showed me a paper you wrote for your Women’s Studies class,” Marilyn looked at her daughter, who deliberately avoided her gaze. “And while we’re bringing up potentially important information, I’d really like to hear about the fight that landed you in jail, something about a beer bottle and a guy named Samuel Freed?” she finished, looking expectantly at the obviously uncomfortable young woman who seemed to curl into herself on the couch.
Marilyn took a breath and squeezed Tiara’s knee. “But first things first, we need to really focus on what happened yesterday. Ok?” Swiping away a tear with the back of her hand, Tiara nodded.
“What happened, sweetie? Start at the beginning and please tell me if there’s anything else I don’t know. They might try to surprise me with later if you don’t,” she sighed, shaking her head.
Tiara still sat silently, wiping away her tears one at a time, with the sleeves of her tee-shirt. Her mother realized that it was going to take some prompting to get her talking.
“Ok, just start from when I left, I took the pies and the keys, held up my phone, and walked out the door…then what happened?” she led, carefully.
“Ok,” Tiara sighed deeply, tucking her feet up under her. “So the line of people was out the door and onto the sidewalk,” She blinked a few times, her eyes focused on her knees as if she were seeing the dramatic scenes playing out in front of her. “I had been making those stuffed strawberries.”
“Did you see anyone else touch them?” Marilyn interrupted, leaning forward.
“No, I didn’t see anyone go near them…but things were chaotic, you know?” she shrugged, still not looking at her mother.
Marilyn nodded.
“Anywa
y, Susan asked me if I wanted her to finish them but I said no…I asked her to put the newly made pies into the walk-in and start prepping more for when the ovens were fixed. I knew she couldn’t handle the cash register as quickly as I could, so it didn’t make sense to have her do anything else,” Tiara explained, impatient at having to re-tell the story yet again.
She finally looked at her mother, who nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“So then a woman ordered two slices…and I put two of the stuffed strawberries on top of hers too, that’s what’s so strange…that woman ate them in the store. I saw her and she was fine,” Tiara shook her head, seemingly genuinely confused. “Then Drew came in to talk,” she looked miserably at her mom. “He sat at a table by the front windows to wait for me while I dealt with customers, then I went over to the table to talk with him.”
“Theoretically, I guess someone could have reached over from the customer side to tamper with the filled strawberries…” Marilyn mused, frowning.
“I guess it’s possible,” Tiara shrugged. “But who would do that?”
“Well, that’s the question isn’t it?” Marilyn said, sighing.
“So I talked to Drew for a while then the repair guys came in, Larry and Joe, and went back to check on the ovens. The blonde woman who had to use the bathroom came in right behind them. I asked Susan to take over the front, because the blonde woman who came in was the only customer in the shop at that point. I was talking to Drew and I knew that it would only take a minute,” she added hastily, justifying her decision to talk with the handsome yoga instructor rather than run the register.
“Okay,” Marilyn nodded, wanting to keep her daughter focused on actual events rather than her guilt over acting in a decidedly unprofessional manner.
“The blonde lady asked to go to the bathroom and Susan didn’t know if that was allowed, so she checked with me, and I sent her back, telling her to watch out for the repair guy’s tools that might be on the floor. That’s when Fergus came in,” Tiara dropped her eyes back to her lap.
A Lime To Kill: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 1 Page 5