by K. J. Emrick
“No worries.” Tony tipped the brim of his hat to Cookie. “Nice to finally meet the woman who’s making an honest man out of Jerry Stansted. He talks about you all the time.”
“Does he, now?” Cookie asked, intrigued by that bit of news. She supposed it always did a woman’s heart good to know the man in her life wasn’t afraid to talk about her to his buddies.
“Oh, sure he does. Talks about you, and that bakery, and of course he’s mentioned this little guy.” He knelt down to scratch under Cream’s chin. “You’re a cute dog, aren’t you? Yes, you are. My daughter has got one just like you.”
When he stood up, Cream bounced on his front paws, wanting more. Tony must be trustworthy, Cookie decided. Cream was hardly ever wrong when he decided to like someone.
“So Jerry,” Tony said, standing up and hooking his thumbs into his duty belt. “I kind of got the impression that you and Chief Rosen are on the outs. That about cover it?”
“More or less,” Jerry confirmed. “Tony, I don’t want to put you or the other guys on the spot but I don’t want Rosen or anyone else from my department left alone with our victim. I can explain it to you later, if you need me to, but right now Cookie and I need to head back to Widow’s Rest to follow up on a lead.”
Tony nodded with a quick and easy smile. “I trust you, Jerry. Your word’s good enough for me. The thing is, if your chief makes a formal request to my superiors, well, there won’t be much I can do if I get a direct order from my sergeant telling me to leave. Know what I mean?”
“Yes,” Jerry said. “You mean that I should hurry.”
“Same old Jerry,” Tony chuckled. “Just as sharp now as you were ten years ago when you saved my sorry butt. Get him to tell you that story sometime, Cookie. It’s a doozy.”
They shook hands again, and Tony went back toward the hospital, leaving Cookie to stare at Jerry with one eyebrow lifted up.
“What?” he asked, turning back toward the car.
“We don’t want anyone from the department to be alone with Amanda? Anyone?”
“I don’t know who I can trust there,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It’s turning into Rosen’s department. First with him hiring Mason and Cassandra, but the others all know they have to go along with Rosen if they want to keep their jobs. I don’t know if I can fully trust any of them. I’ve never felt like this about the people I work with, Cookie. It’s… not a nice feeling.”
She nodded, understanding how he felt, if only a little. “I don’t recall any stories about you saving a State Trooper’s life,” she said, changing the subject. “You want to tell me about that?”
“It’s not as exciting as he makes it sound.”
Cookie got into the car after him, settling Cream on the backseat. “Somehow, I doubt that. It must be important if he still remembers it.”
“There was a commendation involved,” he admitted a little reluctantly. “Listen, I’ll tell you all about it, I promise, but right now let’s get over to the attorney’s place and ask about that will. That’s more important than me telling old war stories.”
On the way out of Bridgefield, Cookie wondered if this amazing man in her life would ever stop surprising her. Brave and humble, handsome and kind. Jerry was everything any woman could want.
She sighed. Maybe someday he would be all hers, in name as well as in spirit.
Ferris Way was a one-way stretch of pavement between Main and Howard Streets. There was parking on one side, where a chain-link fence surrounded a parking lot situated at the backside of buildings that were crowded shoulder to shoulder. On the other side of the street were several businesses that could afford to be tucked away from the main thoroughfare because they drew in enough business without having to be in front of everyone’s eyes. Like Zane Gillman’s law office.
Cream stood up against the window of Jerry’s car on the passenger side, staring out at the grassy area around the parking lot with his tail wagging and his nose sniffing. He needed a chance to relieve himself. He’d been in the car most of the day, poor boy, and while Cookie certainly appreciated how well he had controlled himself, she also knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
“I need to take Cream for a walk,” she told Jerry. “I know we’re in a rush. How long do you think Chief Rosen will let you run around doing your job before he steps in to screw things up?”
“You mean worse than he already has?” Jerry shook his head. “No telling. So yeah, we’re in a bit of a rush…”
He looked back at Cream, and the Chihuahua looked over at him, licking at his nose and whining a little as if to say he’d love Jerry forever if he’d just let him take one little bathroom break.
“Tell you what,” Jerry said in the next instant. “Why don’t you take Cream out to do his business and I’ll go see if I can catch Zane at his office. He should be there. I don’t want to keep my buddy here waiting any longer, though.”
Cream pranced in a happy circle and barked excitedly, understanding Jerry’s sentiment even if he didn’t speak perfect human yet.
Cookie kissed Jerry on the cheek. “I appreciate you, too. I’ll wait for you out here by the car. Me and Cream both.”
He gave her hand a squeeze, and then he was crossing the street on a beeline for Zane’s office. The red brick building had gold letter stickers in the front window that read “Gillman Law Offices. Walk-ins welcome. Appointments appreciated.” The letters were peeling around the edges. The windows needed to be cleaned, too, Cookie noted. It was either the mark of a lazy man, or an overly busy one.
Cream took his time sniffing around the grass around the inside of the parking lot fence once Cookie got him there. He snuffed at a few dandelions, and at a scraggly plant, and at things that nobody but a dog could’ve found interesting. When he was finally satisfied with a particular spot Cookie turned her back to give him some privacy and looked back across the street at the law office.
Jerry was knocking on the door. It was obviously not the first time, either. He turned away in frustration, his hands stuffed into the back pockets of his pants. Apparently, Zane wasn’t here. Well. They would just have to track him down. It wasn’t like Widow’s Rest was all that big. He had to be somewhere…
She blinked. From the side of the building, a door opened. Some sort of service entrance, possibly. There was an alleyway between the law office and the next business, big enough for two cars to drive through side by side, and out through the door stepped a man who was tall and thin and dressed in a shiny mohair suit. His tan was too deep and his teeth were far too white for either to be natural.
Cookie would have known Zane on sight even if she’d never met him before. The man just looked like an attorney. Sharp, intelligent, and with a face that hid a thousand secrets.
Right now that face was terrified.
He looked out of the alley, to the street, as he slowly closed the door behind him and began inching toward the back of the building. Was he trying to get away? Whatever for?
Cookie knelt down and unhooked the leash from Cream’s harness. He’d finished his business. Now she had a job for him. “That man,” she said, rubbing Cream’s chest, “seems to be lost. He’s going the wrong way. Could you be a dear and go help him?”
Cream chuffed his understanding, turned in a circle three times to make sure the leash really was off, and then shot off around the fence of the parking lot.
He stopped at the road and looked both ways. Then he ran as fast as his little legs could go.
“Arf arf-arf, arf arf arf arf arf!”
Jerry stared in disbelief at Cream as he ran past him and into the alley.
Zane stopped, surprised to find this little bundle of fur raging in his direction. With his attention on Cream jumping and barking and wagging his tail he was too distracted to see Jerry coming around the corner, into the alley, until it was too late to get away.
Cookie had followed a little distance behind, sure that her amazing furry friend would be able to handle things on his own.
Now she heard Jerry clear his throat. Zane blinked as if the two of them had just materialized out of thin air in front of them.
“I guess,” Jerry said, “police dogs come in all shapes and sizes.”
“Uh, Jerry Stansted,” Zane said, putting a quick smile on his face. “I didn’t see you there. I was just, uh, stepping out to get a bite to eat. Sorry. Can we schedule an appointment later?”
“You look like you’re in a hurry,” Cookie commented. “Now where might you be rushing off to?”
“Nowhere. I mean, I am going somewhere. Somewhere important, I mean.”
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face from his temple. He kept looking past Cookie, to the street, and she didn’t have to be a detective to figure out that he was worried about something. She only had to be a world-class baker to be able to see that.
Jerry apparently noticed the same thing. “Seems to me,” he said, “that you’re hiding from someone. This wouldn’t have anything to do with Sheila Tucker’s death, would it?”
Under his tan, Zane paled. “Now, Officer Stansted, nobody said that.”
Even so, he ducked up against the brick wall of his building when a car drove by.
When he realized they were watching him, he took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. “Yes, fine. Sheila is dead. From what I hear someone tried to shoot Amanda. There’s no doubt in my mind that it has something to do with Sheila’s wealth. So, being a smart man, I had to ask myself who might be next on this impromptu hit parade? Well, obviously the guy who knows the most about the money. That would be me. So, yes, Officer Stansted, and Cookie, and… small dog. I’m worried. I’m concerned for my own safety and when someone came knocking on my locked front door I guess I panicked a little.”
Cookie pursed her lips. So. It came back to the money once again.
“Um,” Zane asked her, “what’s your dog doing?”
She looked down to see Cream sniffing at Zane’s leather loafers, and she smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s just getting to know you better. He’s already done his business.”
Zane wrinkled his nose and stepped back. Cream followed him with a little growl, mad that such interesting smells kept moving around on him.
It was almost comical to watch. Cookie stepped over to put the little dog back on his leash. “You’re not much of a dog person, are you Zane?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” he admitted with a chuckle that was devoid of humor. “I have cats. Two cats. A calico and a tiger-striped one.”
Cream growled again, glaring up at Zane at the mention of his choice in pets.
“I don’t think Cookie’s dog likes you,” Jerry said. “Tell you what. Why don’t you and I go inside and talk about Sheila’s will and where all of her money went, while Cookie and Cream stay outside.”
Zane blinked at them. “Cookie and Cream? Well that’s… cute.”
Cream pawed at Zane’s right shoe, and then turned and lifted his leg like maybe he wasn’t quite done with his business yet, and maybe he wanted to finish up on those nice, expensive loafers.
“Okay, okay,” Zane said hastily. “Inside. Sure. Let’s go inside. Just keep the dog away from me, please.”
“Certainly,” Cookie promised him with a smile. “We’ll be over by the car in case you need us, Jerry.”
He leaned over to kiss her cheek, and whisper in her ear. “You and that dog are a pretty amazing team, you know that?”
“I do,” she told him. “But I like to hear it.”
She led Cream back across the road, reminding herself that he deserved a special treat when they got home. The bakery would be closed up still and they would have the whole place to themselves. Since she was going to be closed again tomorrow for Sheila’s services, there wouldn’t be anything for her to do except clear out the day-old stuff for the clearance rack. She could give him lots of attention.
From the car she took out the roll of plastic bags from the glove compartment that they kept for this purpose and went to clean up what Cream had left behind earlier. It was the duty of every conscientious dog owner to take care of their friend’s messes. “One of these days,” she told him as he explored through the grass at the end of his leash, “I’m going to teach you how to do this yourself. I swear I am. What are you doing now?”
She went over to a metal garbage bin near the entrance to the parking lot and dumped off the tied-up bag. Cream was still exploring through the grassy strip between the metal fence and the parked cars. He’d found something of interest. Probably a frog, she thought. Cream wasn’t a city dog. He knew all about animals like frogs and snakes and chipmunks. They were fun to chase.
What he’d found wasn’t a frog, though.
Bending down to see closer, Cookie found a small collection of cigarette butts. They’d been smoked clear down to the brown filters and then dropped here on the ground. Someone had stood here for a very long time to have smoked nine… ten… no, fourteen cigarettes. Nearly a full pack.
She’d experimented with cigarettes when she was younger and stupid and life seemed to be turning upside down for her just like it did for most teenagers. She’d given them up before they could damage her health, thank God, but she knew a thing or two about smoking. Figure it would take ten minutes or so to smoke a single cigarette, and that meant someone had stood here for more than two hours, smoking. And that was assuming they had chain smoked one after the other. Now why would someone do that?
Standing up in that spot, Cookie looked around to see what she could see. The parking lot, and the few cars that had been left here for the day, of course. Not much else on this side of the street except a few blank brick walls.
On the other side of the street, however, there was a perfect view of Zane Gillman’s law office.
“Well, well,” she said to Cream. “Looks like Zane was right to worry someone might be after him. Who do we suppose did this?”
Cream sniffed at the cigarette butts again, and then sneezed. Whoever it was, Cream didn’t like them much.
Keeping a tight hold of his leash, she had Cream follow her back to the car so she could get another of the little plastic bags from the glove compartment. This time, she was going to use it as a makeshift evidence bag. First, she snapped a picture of the cigarette pile with her cellphone. Then she turned the plastic bag inside and used the inside to pick up three of the butts. Flipping the bag inside right again, she sealed it with the zip strip. There. Now Jerry could do whatever it was that police officers did with this sort of thing.
She thought about that. Jerry had turned his badge in. Technically, he shouldn’t even be here investigating this mystery with her. If it didn’t involve the death of one of her good friends, he probably wouldn’t be. He’d be home, planning his retirement.
Not that Jerry was very good at planning his future. Their wedding had been postponed for a year now. Maybe he’d do the same with his retirement.
He wasn’t perfect, to be sure, but she wasn’t looking for some Prince Charming kind of perfection. She loved him so much. More than a woman her age deserved to love a man, maybe, as silly as that sounded. For all his faults, he was a wonderful man. A man dedicated to what he thought was right. She could accept a few quirks to be with a man like that.
When Jerry came out of Zane’s office a few minutes later, he looked frustrated. Whatever he’d found out in there, it wasn’t what he’d been hoping for.
She met him at the car and passed the bag over to him. “What’s this?” he asked.
“Someone was keeping watch over Zane’s office. I don’t think they were left there all that long ago, either. Maybe we scared them away.”
He held the bag up to the light to get a better look. “I didn’t see anyone hanging around when we pulled up, did you? Maybe they left before we got here.”
“Why would they do that?” Cookie wondered.
“Well, either they got bored waiting for Zane to pop his head out,” he said, and then paused to think. “Or… mayb
e something drew them away from here. Like, rushing off to take a few shots at Amanda after her police protection mysteriously left.”
“Or rushing off to the hospital after Amanda got hurt?” Cookie suggested.
Jerry nodded. “Right. So, our suspect is standing here, and when Zane stays holed up in his office all day, he goes after Amanda. He finds her alone at her house because, like you said, her two police officer escorts are conveniently gone. He shoots at her, and misses, but she goes to the hospital afterward. Now he’s got a second chance at her so he goes to the hospital to find her.” He nodded to himself, picturing it just the same way that Cookie was. “So, who do we know who showed up at the hospital right after we got there with Amanda?”
“Just one.” Cookie couldn’t believe it, but it all made sense. “Chief Ed Rosen.”
Well. This mystery certainly just got very interesting.
From the back seat, Cream barked his agreement.
Chapter 6
The morning dawned early. Or, maybe it just felt that way to Cookie because she and Jerry had stayed up for most of the night talking about what they had learned so far.
Zane Gillman had told Jerry everything he could about Sheila’s will. There were certain aspects of it that he insisted were still covered under the attorney and client privilege, even now that Sheila was dead, but he’d told Jerry enough. Sheila had a small fortune to her name. In fact, it was the biggest personal account that a lawyer like Zane, in a place like Widow’s Rest, was likely to see in his whole entire career.
When Jerry had mentioned the number Cookie found on the bank statement in Sheila’s apartment, Zane had nodded and said that sounded just about right, down to the last penny. However, Sheila had arranged to have that entire sum withdrawn from her account just last week. She withdrew it in cash, and that was the last that Zane knew about it.
He had no idea why Sheila would want to do that. Especially since she had asked Zane to keep the will itself exactly as it was.