He poured the liquid from the vial into the frosting bowl and mixed it with the spatula. Then put the bottle itself into a cupboard and walked to the back door.
Casey and I looked at one another, stunned. We’d just seen the poisoning actually happen.
“We have to get this to the police,” I said but then my attention was drawn back to the footage on the screen which kept playing.
The figure in the hoodie was about to open the back door of the bakery and leave, when he froze suddenly. It was as if he heard someone or something outside. He flattened himself against the wall and waited there hiding, scratching his wrist, nervously. When no one came in after a few moments, he pulled his hoodie down low and hurried out.
The kitchen remained empty for another minute or two until Babette came back inside. She was talking on the phone. “Yes, is this the humane society emergency line? Yes, I know it’s late but I heard a cat outside. I think it might be in trouble.”
Babette nodded as she talked, her cheeks colored with emotion. “Yes, I went up and down the street but couldn’t find him. Okay, thanks. Do what you can.”
She took one last look outside then closed the back kitchen door and locked it. Then she put the cake mold into the oven. While it was cooking she mixed the frosting with the spatula, oblivious to the poison that was now inside it.
I stopped the film.
“So she was telling the truth,” Casey said. He blew the air out of his mouth loudly. “You think it was Doug?”
I nodded. “I think it had to be. He probably stood outside, howling like an injured cat until she came out. Then he snuck into the kitchen and put the poison into the cake, planted the bottle in the cupboard, then left. ”
Casey shook his head. “All that for a business deal. Hard to believe.”
“Let’s just hope the police believe it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN TEEN
Casey checked his watch and handed me one of the coffees he’d just bought at the Sunrise Palms Coffee Cafe. I took it and yawned. “Stevie, the guy who answered the phone, said the detective won’t be in until Seven a.m. We’re still a half an hour early,” I told him.
He nodded and looked at his watch. Then he quickly covered his wrist again when he saw me staring. He got into the car and closed the door. “We have time. Would you mind if we make a stop on the way?”
I shrugged. “Sure. No problem.” I yawned again. We’d both taken a nap at my place—Casey on the couch, me in my bedroom— while waiting for Detective Sanders to start his shift. But four hours wasn’t nearly enough sleep for me.
We’d been hoping to bring our evidence in last night, but since it wasn’t exactly an emergency, Stevie refused to call him in, in the middle of the night. And though I assured Casey that I’d be alright alone, he was worried that Doug might come after me, so he valiantly offered to stay at my house until morning.
Neither of us were in the best shape for our presentation to the detective, but we wanted to do it first thing in order to help get Babette out of jail as soon as possible.
Casey started the car but instead of taking a left towards the police station, he took a right.
Five minutes later, just as the sun was starting to come up, he stopped the car in front of a fence, got out to unlock it, then got back in the car and drove us onto a construction site.
We drove past a bunch of trucks and bulldozers and flattened black dirt, and pulled up in front of a white trailer.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around, then at the trailer. “Is this where you work?”
He nodded. “I just want to show you something. Follow me.”
Inside the trailer, he turned on a light. “Here take a look.”
I followed him over to a table, upon which was sitting some large, detailed color drawings.
“What is all this?” I asked, looking at the top one. “Is this the mall you’re building?”
Casey nodded.
I looked from one picture to the next to the next. “But it doesn’t even look like a mall really,” I said.
“Exactly. You see,” he pointed to one of the drawings. “This what it’s all going to look like. It’s not your standard soulless shopping mall, contrary to what Babette told you on that tape. It’s going to be a pedestrian mall. No cars. A walking area. For families. And couples.”
“ Not only will it not hurt the local merchants,” he continued. “It will help to revitalize the whole area. And over here, you see, there’ll be a housing development--some of which will be for low income seniors.”
I tried to follow his excited explanations as he pointed out various aspects of the drawings.
“It’s really something,” I said, studying the drawings. “It’s beautiful. Nothing at all like I expected.”
He nodded, looking so sincere and intense. It almost broke my heart.
“So…I guess you’re not such an evil real estate developer, after all,” I said.
He looked at me, surprised. “No. I guess I’m not.”
But he’s still a cheater! My inner voice screamed.
“Well…I guess we better get to the police station,” I said, taking a step back.
“Right,” he nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We waited in Detective Sanders’ office as he watched the footage from the thumb drive. It seemed to take forever.
“Hmnn,” he said, when it was finally done.
I’d promised Casey that I would be calm and let him do the prodding which was probably a good thing, because at the moment, I felt like screaming.
When no one spoke, I leaned forward in my seat, growing impatient and angry, my natural journalistic nature coming out. “Detective, obviously that tape means Babette’s innocent. Right?”
Casey shot me a look, then he looked back at the detective. “As you can see, Detective, that tape pretty much proves that Babette was telling the truth. She was not the one who put the poison into the frosting.”
“It does look that way, Detective Sanders said, still stroking his moustache “I didn’t believe her about that cat she claimed she heard outside. But it looks like she was telling the truth."
I nodded eagerly.
He looked over at me. “You say you ‘found’ this in her house?”
“Yeah, in Doug’s den,” I said.
Casey shot me a look in warning. “Um…” I frowned. “I went in to get the cat and I…stumbled on this footage.”
The detective stroked his beard again, studying me.
Casey sat forward but still spoke calmly. “The fact that Doug obviously had possession of this footage and didn’t turn it in, seems somewhat suspicious, does it not?”
“It does at that,” the detective said. “Especially considering he’s the one that found the poison research in her web history.”
“Because he was probably the one researching it himself!” I interrupted. “To try to kill Babette!”
Casey put his hand on mine to calm me. Which it did in one way. In another, it had the opposite effect.
“It is possible,” the detective agreed.
“So you’ll let her out?”I prodded.
The detective stood up.” I appreciate your coming in,” he said. “But we’ll handle it from here.” He walked to the door to show us out.
I looked at him in disbelief. Then I looked at Casey, urging him on with my eyes. But he just started walking to the door. But just before walking out of the room, Casey turned and looked at the detective. “You do realize, if you have evidence that exonerates Mrs. Berwick, and you keep her locked up, it won’t look good. She might even have a lawsuit against you.”
“Especially once the newpapers find out!” I added.
The detective looked at him. Then he exhaled loudly and went over and picked up the phone. “Fred, we’re going to be releasing Babette Berwick from our custody,” he said. “Yup, that’s right. Some new evidence has appeared that calls her guilt into question. And have an officer
go by Doug’s house and bring him in. I have some questions for him.”
I squeezed Casey’s excitedly and smiled at him. He smiled back.
“Satisfied?” the detective asked.
“Yes! Thanks!” I went up and hugged him, which surprised the heck out of him. And out of me. “Thanks!” I said again as Casey took me by the hand and led me out.
***
“We did it!” I screamed, when we were outside. “I can’t believe it."
“You did it,” Casey said, seeming amused by my exuberance. “I was just along for the ride.”
“No, you were wonderful!” I hugged him quickly and then I pulled back and put on my best British accent: “You do realize Detective that if you keep Babette in custody she will have quite the lawsuit on her hands. Cheerio…”
“That’s a dreadful English accent,” he said, shaking his head with a horrified expression on his face. “Nothing like mine. Nothing at all.”
He then tried to do his best imitation of an American accent which actually wasn’t all that bad. But of course I didn’t tell him that.
As we walked back to his car he looked me in the eyes. “So, shall we go celebrate? Tonight? For dinner?”
I nodded shyly. “Yes. I’d like that,” I said.
As he looked at me and I at him, we both found ourselves moving slowly towards one another as if drawn by a magnet. And this time there was no inner voice warning me off. In fact my thoughts were running in the opposite direction. So what if he has a fiancé. Maybe they’ll break up. He’ll change. For me. Yes, I was sure of it. He would change for me…
Our faces moved towards each other as if in slow motion, our lips were just about to touch—when suddenly the sound of my inner fears blared out from in between us: “Don’t fall for that cheater. Don’t fall for him again! No don’t give him the time of day, cause cheaters never change.”
I gasped and pulled back. Casey looked at me puzzled. “Where did that come from?” he asked, looking around then up, then down in between us.
I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone. “It’s my personalized ringtone for Kevin,” I said, urgently trying to figure out how stop that stupid song. “Some old country song.”
Finally I hit the ‘ignore call’ button which sent Kevin’s call to voicemail.
“Kevin. That’s your boyfriend in New York? The one you were talking about to Babette?”
I nodded.
“Right,” Casey said. He was looking at me, biting the inside of his cheek--he seemed to be waiting for some kind of explanation about the current state of my relationship with Kevin.
I ran my hand over my ponytail, shaking my head at the irony. All I’d wanted for the last few weeks was for Kevin to call me. Then, he finally did I no longer cared. Because I was falling hard for another cheater. Another guy I couldn’t let myself be with.
I blew out my breath.
“I don’t think I can go celebrate with you tonight,” I said, forcing myself to think more clearly.
Saved by the personalized ringtone.
Casey nodded, still looking into my eyes. For a moment I could have sworn I saw some emotion flash by in his eyes. Hurt, or disappointment or something. But it was just a momentary flicker, then his usual charming, amused expression returned.
“So…I guess you’ll want to call him back then,” he said. And without waiting for an answer he walked to the passenger side door and opened it. “Here, I’ll give you a lift home and you can talk to him in private.”
“No…I…,” I started to explain. But how could I tell him that Kevin didn’t matter? And that he was the reason?
I couldn’t. Because he was just as bad as Kevin was. I couldn’t open myself up to being hurt like that again.
I got into the car.
We drove in silence all the way home, then I opened the car door, mumbling a quick ‘thanks.’
As I walked up the walkway, I heard his car zoom off, sounding almost angry. I turned back and watched him drive away, feeling bad for Casey for a moment. But then I reminded myself what a cheat he was. And I felt bad for me instead.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Instead of going straight to the guest house, I stopped inside, Nana’s condo. She was there with Birdie, both wearing their colorful walking clothes.
“Was that the count’s car we heard leaving? So early?” Birdie asked as I poured myself some coffee and joined them at the granite island that sat between the kitchen and the living room.
“The lord,” I said sadly as I slipped onto one of the stools. “And that’s not him. It’s his da. But yes, that was him.”
“Hmn. Late night?” Nana asked, trying to sound casual. And not pulling it off. “I guess your dinner went well?”
“Yeah, dinner was great. We solved the crime,” I shrugged.
“You did?” Birdie said.
That surprised both of them.
I nodded. “We got Babette out of jail by finding footage of Doug breaking into the store. He was setting her up for the crime.”
Nana eyed me with suspicion. “And just where did you find this footage?”
I considered not telling her that I’d broken into Doug’s house, but I knew it was only a matter of time before she got it out of me, so why fight it?
“We……I broke into Doug’s house and found it on his computer.”
To my surprise, she shrugged it off. “Good for you, honey,” she patted my hand. “Have a danish. You look thin.”
I took one but didn’t really felt like eating.
“So why didn’t you invite Mr. Baron inside,” Birdie asked, putting her hand on mine. “Or did you? Did he blow you off?”
“What? No. I didn’t invite him. I promised myself I wouldn’t date a cheater anymore and… that’s just what he is. A cheater.”
“You don’t know that,” Nana, said. “Just because he cheated on someone else doesn’t mean he’d cheat on you.”
“I think it does,” I said sadly.
“Okay, that’s it!” Birdie said. “You’re off the island.”
“What?”
Nana took my Danish away as Birdie nudged me off of my stool.
“We’re voting you off the island…”
“What island?” I looked at them confused and tried to grab my coffee which they’d moved to the other side of the counter.
“The kitchen island, obvs,” Nana said rolling her eyes. “We’re not going to let you stay and regale us with sad tales when you have a wonderful guy who so clearly likes you!”
I looked at them, realizing that someone had been watching too much reality TV.
“Nana…” I said. “C’mon.” I rolled my eyes and reached for the Danish.
“Nope!” she swatted my hand away. “Not until you wise up. You’ve given up. On your career, on your love life…”
“On your hair!” Birdie chimed in.
“If you don’t start taking your life more seriously, no one will.”
I looked at them, blinking, my feelings hurt. Then I shrugged, saying nothing more as I walked back to the casita and lay down for a nap.
I’d never felt so alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I slept for a good two hours with Cupcake curled next to me. And though I still felt a little queasy from my long night, I woke up feeling somewhat better. Cupcake looked bright eyed and bushy tailed as usual.
I was still a little hurt from Nana’s ‘tough love’ treatment, but I decided that maybe she was right about one thing, at least—I had given up on a lot of things in my life. Love. My dream career. My hair…
I looked in the mirror and frowned. Maybe my hassle-free pony tail was getting a little tiresome. I grabbed my brush and blow dryer and added a little curl, so that instead of my usual straight, boring hair, it had a little lift and bounce. Then I put on a little eyeliner, blush and lip-gloss. There. That was better.
Though I still wouldn’t go back to Casey—a vow is a vow after all— there was one thing I could d
o to improve my lot in life. The more I thought about my idea, the more sense it made to me, but I needed to talk to Babette about it first, as it involved her and her case.
I wanted to see how she was doing anyway, so I intended to drive by her house, but on the way there, I passed the store and was surprised to see her through the window, moving around inside.
I hurriedly parked and went inside.
“Babette? You came to work today?”
She looked up at me startled. “Rosie!”
She ran over gave me an emotional hug. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done.”
I hugged her back, then looked her over. She still looked pale—paler even than usual but I figured her color would come back once she was out and baking again. Otherwise, she looked the same, although slightly thinner, if that was possible.
“Are you really opening the store back up?” I asked. “I thought Casey Baron was buying the land. And that Bundt Baby took away your franchise.”
“They did,” she said, emotion rising to her cheeks. “I’m closing the place. Doug and I already agreed to sell it. But I’ll be opening my own bake shop someplace else. So even though I won’t be a Bundt Baby anymore, I’ll still be baking. I’m going to broaden my horizons.”
“That’s wonderful!” I said, looking around. “But I thought…I mean I thought that if you closed this place, you couldn’t afford to rent or buy another suitable location.”
“Come, sit down,” she said pulling a chair out at the little peach and white-painted wooden table. I took a seat as Babette went behind the counter and prepared a pot of hot tea. She put it and some china cups on a tray and brought it over to the table, then she sat down across from me.
“I wouldn’t have been able to afford to rent or buy a comparable location with my part of the money from the sale. But it turns out my lawyer says I have a case against Bundt Baby.”
“A case?” I looked at her puzzled.
“They pulled my franchise before I was even convicted. My lawyer says they jumped the gun in doing that, which interfered with my ability to earn my livelihood. He says we have a lawsuit against them…though most likely they’ll settle.”
NOTHING BUNDT MURDER: A Culinary Cozy Mystery (A Rosie Kale Culinary Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 7