“Don’t worry, Danica,” Lane whispered, sensing my unease and placing a supportive hand on my lower back. I allowed myself to melt into his touch for just an instant. Then, I walked faster until I was hovering over Aunt Marilyn as she unlocked the side door.
“Oh damn it! My fingers are trembling.” She bent over to pick up the key as it hit the wet concrete.
“Easy now,” Lane soothed, and I thought how lucky Mackenzie was to have him as a father. I could picture the little girl fearing monsters in the night and being cajoled back to bed by her sweet, even-tempered father.
The second time was the charm as Aunt Marilyn opened the door and hurried inside. “We need to find a light,” she whispered as my arm slammed against the wall.
“Yes we do,” I agreed, ignoring the pain.
“Here we go,” Lane said as the office filled with artificial light. “I’ve got night vision like a jungle cat.”
I giggled softly at his joke as Aunt Marilyn rushed through the rows of cubicles looking for Betty’s desk. In her haste, she carelessly knocked over a rolodex. “Who even has these anymore?!” She demanded rhetorically.
“Oh wow, I’ve never actually seen one of those in person,” Lane marveled.
I also had never seen the old fashioned flip-and-find address cards. “Must be the desk of an older person…like Betty. Is it hers?” I asked.
“Let me see…no the name plate says Lorraine Fallow,” Aunt Marilyn informed as my blood ran cold. Where had I heard that name before?
“Lorraine Fallow?” I echoed. “I’ve heard that name somewhere.”
“Here’s Betty’s desk!” Aunt Marilyn said triumphantly, pressing the power button of her desktop computer on.
As I pondered the name Lorraine Fallow, Lane zipped over to the desk and took a seat. He tapped his fingers impatiently as the computer warmed up, showing signs of nervousness for the first time all night. My memory felt cloudy, but I knew the name Lorraine Fallow was significant for some reason.
“This computer is a dinosaur too,” Lane muttered. “Was anyone in this office born after the invention of the wheel?”
“Hey, it’s got nothing to do with age,” Aunt Marilyn scolded pointedly. “If these people aren’t up on technology, it’s because they’re all morons like Betty and Marvin!”
Lane chuckled appreciatively. “Okay, you just put me in my place.”
I tuned out their chatter, raking every corner of my mind for the name Lorraine Fallow. Had one of my customers at the ribbon cutting ceremony introduced herself with that name? Or was it the name of one of my vendors for the shop?
“The mayor’s secretary!” I burst out with a shrill scream.
Chapter 8
Lane, who had already deftly swiped the files from Betty’s computer, slipped the USB back in his pocket and rushed to my side. “Are you okay? What was that outburst all about?”
Composing myself, I explained, “The woman who called me to say that the mayor had an emergency and couldn’t make the ceremony was named Lorraine Fallow. I’m sure of it! But why would the mayor’s secretary work in a real estate office?”
“Maybe she’s not really his secretary,” Lane offered.
“But that doesn’t make sense.” I threw my hands up in the air. “None of this makes sense.”
“And it really doesn’t make sense to linger around here when we already have the info we need. Let’s GO!” Aunt Marilyn was already holding the door open for us to leave.
As my mind buzzed with new possibilities and sheer enigmas, I filed out the door with Lane close behind me. The rain had subsided with a few stray droplets butterfly kissing our heads.
“Oh no!” Aunt Marilyn shouted as the glare of headlights appeared on the other side of the parking lot. “That’s Marvin’s car!”
Like lightning, we piled into her car and careened out of the parking lot. “I think he’s following us,” I said ominously, glancing over my shoulder and seeing a car push dangerously close to our bumper.
“He saw us!” Aunt Marilyn cried.
“Maybe not. It was very dark outside. Maybe he just saw you,” I suggested even though I knew it was ridiculous. Even a blind bat could have seen that there were three people jumping into the car. And Lane’s powerful physique made him nearly impossible to miss.
“No, he saw all of us,” Aunt Marilyn said woefully. “What are we going to do now?”
No one spoke for a long minute as Aunt Marilyn curved the car sharply down a side street in a blatant attempt to lose Marvin. Fresh out of ideas but overflowing with questions, I didn’t speak. I just kept turning to see if Marvin’s car had been thrown off course yet. But he was still there, still madly pursuing us at perilous speeds. Until the crash of metal and the boom of an exploding engine forced him to stop.
In horror, Lane and I watched as Marvin’s car exploded, apparently overheating and catching fire from the impact of hitting a lamp post at 80 miles per hour. “Just keep driving,” Lane instructed as he took out his cell phone.
“Who are you calling?” I asked.
“911. We have to report this, but we don’t have to stay behind and answer the cops’ questions. There’s nothing we can do for that guy anyway. He’s gone.”
“Oh no, are you sure?” Aunt Marilyn asked hysterically.
“There’s no way anyone could survive a crash like that,” Lane said gravely before informing the dispatcher of the horrific scene we had just witnessed.
“Are you okay?” I asked Aunt Marilyn, sensing that she was more emotional about the crash than she wanted to let on.
“Mmmhmm,” she murmured, but I could hear the tears in her voice.
“You don’t have to hide that you’re upset. What we just saw was awful. And Marvin was someone you were very close to at one time,” I consoled softly as she tried to stifle a sniffle.
“This is all my fault. I caused the man’s death!” Aunt Marilyn sobbed.
“No, it’s his fault,” I corrected. “No one told him to chase us like a reckless maniac. And no one told him to cheat on his wife either! If he had just stayed home, he would still be alive.”
“You’re right,” Aunt Marilyn said solemnly, but I could tell she was still deeply affected.
No one spoke for the remainder of the ride back to Cupcakes by the Sea. Watching Marvin’s car go up in flames had been traumatic for all of us, but he truly had no one to blame but himself. Wearily, Lane and I emptied out of the car as Aunt Marilyn stayed paralyzed behind the steering wheel.
“Where are you going, Danica?” She asked as I took out my keys to the shop.
“I can’t sleep tonight. I’m going to just stay at the shop and get some work done,” I replied.
“I’ll stay with you,” Lane offered.
“No, that’s ridiculous! You’ve done enough for one night. Go home, get some rest, and come back in the morning,” I insisted.
“Okay, but only if you do the same. You need some shut-eye too.”
“I know, I really do. I’m just so wound up and jittery…” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, I climbed back into Aunt Marilyn’s car and let her drive us home. Lane stood in the parking lot staring after us, and I wondered what he was thinking. Would he be there in the morning to help me or would he stay far away from the drama, and now tragedy, that just wouldn’t leave me alone?
***
Feeling like construction workers were drilling under my skull, I nonetheless dressed at dawn and dragged myself to the shop. The stress of the night’s events must have weighed more heavily than I realized because my sleep had been fitful, punctuated by nightmares that I couldn’t remember except for the fright they caused me. At breakfast, Aunt Marilyn claimed she didn’t feel well and was going to stay home. She complained of a migraine, but I knew what was really bothering her and fully supported her taking some quiet time to cope.
The morning was foggy from the rain that had fallen during the night. My thoughts were hazy too as I tried to come up with theories about
what Lorraine Fallow’s connection was to Mayor O’Donnell. Turning on my computer for assistance, I searched the internet for Lorraine Fallow. The real estate office emerged at the top of the list, and I clicked on it, scanning her bio and trying to extract possible clues. According to the website, she was a licensed Realtor with 22 years experience in the field. She specialized in luxury oceanfront apartments and had won the Gold Circle award for highest sales in her region. Nothing pertaining to Mayor O’Donnell. I sighed, frustrated with all the dead ends I kept running into.
I knew I should stop searching and start baking, but my investigation had turned into an obsession that I had to solve in order to maintain my sanity…or rather regain it. The topsy turvy events occurring now on a daily basis made me feel like a stunned child slammed to the bottom of a see-saw. Perusing the web for clues also helped distract me from thoughts of Lane. I still felt doubtful that he would come this morning as he said he would. After all, what had I done so far but give his daughter a few free cupcakes and complicate his life? I wasn’t the type of woman who made a man fall head over heels and turn into a lovesick fool. Plus, as a baseball player, Lane had his choice among women.
Another sigh escaped me as I looked up from my computer, startled to see Mayor O’Donnell standing outside the door. Apparently, I had left it unlocked as he turned the handle and walked right in without so much as a knock.
“Good morning!” He greeted in a thunderous voice far too loud for my delicate state that morning. Anxiety and lack of sleep had left me feeling like I had an enormous hangover.
“Good morning, Mayor. What brings you here so early?” I asked with a tinge of suspicion.
“Just making the rounds again. Chatting with my Sea Ridge business owners. But I also wanted to personally apologize for missing your ribbon cutting ceremony the other day. Unfortunately, I had to tend to an emergency.” He looked at the countertop as he spoke.
“Yes, I was disappointed. But of course I understand.” I paused, waiting for him to elaborate on the nature of the emergency that had forced him to cancel so rudely, but he offered no explanation.
“My secretary Nancy gave you plenty of notice, though?”
“Well, not really, I mean she called that morning…wait, did you say Nancy?” An odd feeling flooded through me as he nodded. “But the woman who called me that morning introduced herself as Lorraine Fallow.”
His bushy gray eyebrows moved closer together as a sickly pallor painted itself across his face. I literally bit my tongue to stop myself from demanding that he tell me what he was obviously hiding. More certain than ever that Lorraine Fallow was a crucial piece to this puzzle, I stared Mayor O’Donnell dead in the eyes while he dipped his gaze to the floor.
“Uh, I have to go. Just remembered an early morning meeting I have. Good day.”
Like a phantom, he disappeared from my shop, leaving me fuming. But I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily! Rushing to the door, I looked in all directions for the mayor, then stopped short when I spotted him a block away talking animatedly on his cell phone. Taking advantage of the fact that his back was to me, I crept up behind him until I was just close enough to hear his conversation.
“…what the hell is wrong with you? Drinking martinis at the office again? Why the hell did you give your real name?” A hard pause followed, and I sucked in a breath, waiting to hear more. “Slip of the tongue, my ass. You can’t be trusted with a task that even a monkey could handle! And forget about your cut. I’m taking my business elsewhere.”
I zipped back to the shop as he abruptly ended the conversation and started pacing up and down the block. Exhaling only when I was safely inside, I locked the front door, hoping he hadn’t caught a glimpse of me. Forget about your cut. I’m taking my business elsewhere. So he was paying Lorraine Fallow? But why? My head spun with all sorts of scenarios, but none of them made any sense. A knock at the door made me nearly leap out of my skin. I glanced up, overjoyed to see Lane standing there with one hand in his pocket and another waving to me.
“Come in, please,” I urged, pulling him into the shop.
“Well good morning to you too,” he said with that snow-melting smile.
“You won’t believe what just happened.” I proceeded to convey the new details to him.
“Okay, don’t be upset. This is good news. We’re getting a lot closer to figuring this whole thing out. If the mayor just fired Lorraine, then maybe she’ll talk to us and rat him out. It’s worth a try,” Lane reasoned.
“You’re right. We can show up at her real estate office at 9 am sharp before I have to open up the shop.” Catching myself, I corrected, “I mean, I can go. I don’t expect you to get involved…”
“I’m already involved, Danica, and I want to be. I’m going with you.”
“Okay good, if you really want to. I don’t like the idea of going back to that office. It makes me think of the stupid car chase and what happened to Marvin…” Nausea crested in my gut at the raw memory.
“I’ll be right by your side,” he promised. “But first, let’s have a talk about this.” He pulled the USB out of his pocket.
Swallowing nervously, I implored, “What did you find? Tell me.”
Chapter 9
The suspense was like a noose fastened around my neck. Impatiently, I prompted, “Well, what was on the USB?”
“Long story short, nothing that matters. I scanned every file from her computer and not one of them mentioned your name or Cupcakes by the Sea. No messages in her Outlook email folder about you either. Most of her files were business-related, except for one that she kept as a sort of journal. She just wrote all this vicious stuff about how she wishes her husband were dead.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth, struck by the cruel irony. “I wonder what she must be thinking now that it’s actually happened and he is dead.”
“Maybe feeling guilty. I don’t know. But my guess is that there will be an investigation and she’ll be suspect #1,” Lane predicted.
“But it was a car accident. There aren’t going to be any suspects.”
“Even accidents get investigated, Danica, especially when there’s an angry wife and cheating husband involved. Who’s to say Betty didn’t cut the brakes on his car and that’s what caused the crash?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “The police will look into that.”
It was all so much to process, and for a moment I wondered if Betty really had rigged her husband’s car to make it crash. I almost hoped she did so that Aunt Marilyn wouldn’t have to feel guilty anymore. Resolving to call Aunt Marilyn midday and check in, I inquired, “What are you going to do with that USB?”
“Destroy it,” Lane answered. “No one needs to get caught with this thing and go to jail.”
“That’s for sure. You know, I’m kind of relieved that Betty had nothing to do with trying to ruin my shop. The new angle to look at is how Lorraine Fallow and the mayor figure into things. So, at 9 o’clock…” I stopped talking as Lane’s phone beeped and he glowered at the screen.
“Oh damn! I thought the flight was tonight!” He yelled, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
“What flight?” I asked, feeling inexplicably nervous at the prospect of Lane going anywhere.
“I’m playing an away game in Dallas tomorrow. I thought the team was leaving tonight, but I just got a text from my coach reminding us to get to the airport by 10 for our flight at noon. Damn it, I really wanted to see this through with you, Danica.” He tightened his lips in frustration.
“When will you be back?” I asked in a quiet voice.
Truly, I had become too attached to this man in such a short amount of time. I shouldn’t even care that he was going to Dallas for a game. That was his job, after all. How could I be feeling so possessive after a little kiss or two? Visions of sassy blond cheerleaders throwing themselves at Lane flamed in my imagination. Didn’t the Dallas Cowboys have the most beautiful cheerleaders in all of baseball? Wait, no, the Cowboys played football. And bas
eball doesn’t even have cheerleaders, which I should have known since I’m devoted to the sport! Okay, I was officially losing my mind, which was fine as long as I didn’t lose my heart. That would be far more dangerous…
“I’ll be back on Friday,” Lane said intimately, stepping closer to me and bridging the gap between our bodies. Spontaneously, he pulled me into his arms and drew me into a breath-stealing kiss. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
Without another word, he walked out of my shop while I could still feel his lips on mine and smell his fresh manly scent. He hadn’t said he’d call me while he was in Dallas. Or text me. And that would have to be just fine because I had a lot of work to do. I couldn’t put off the day’s baking for another millisecond. After whipping up countless batches of cupcakes, I had to track down Lorraine Fallow at her office. Then I had to come back to the shop and make some money! If I could keep myself busy enough, maybe I wouldn’t even think of Lane at all. Wishful thinking.
***
Navigating my way through a maze of lengthy detours to reach the real estate office, I pressed my palm into the steering wheel, honking rudely at the driver in front of me. I cringed at my own brashness; no one honked their horns in beautiful Sea Ridge, California. This wasn’t an urban mecca like Minneapolis where drivers were almost expected to disrespect each other.
Taking a sip from the thermos of hot chai tea in my cup holder, I tried to calm myself. Police activity blocked the entire street where Marvin had crashed and left me feeling sick to my stomach. My traumatized reaction somehow had morphed into anger as I struggled to reach my destination. Finally, I pulled into the lot and jerked my car to a halt.
Hurrying inside the office, I stopped at the front desk and addressed the receptionist. “Good morning. I’m looking for Lorraine Fallow.”
“I’m sorry but Ms. Fallow called out sick today. Would you like to leave a message for her?” The receptionist offered innocently as I ground my teeth in exasperation. All that road rage for nothing! And now I had to go back the same way I came, like a hamster in a labyrinth. Why hadn’t I called first to see if the woman was there? Because I was losing patience with being stuck in the dark and needed answers to my questions like I needed clean water to drink.
Sweet as Pie Crimes Page 18