Roses and Revenge

by London Lovett

Briggs hadn't invited me to sit, but I climbed up on the stool next to him anyway. "Now that you've mentioned it, I'm not leaving until you tell me. Please," I added, just in case.

  "It's not a secret because the others already know. It seemed Lydia had to talk Autumn into telling me. Autumn's trailer is parked between Jasper's and Jacob's. On the day of the murder, after she finished her facial, Autumn went back to her trailer to rest and wait for the work day to start. Jasper was killed sometime between the time she left and an hour later when Alexander found the body. Autumn said she sat down on the bed at the rear corner of the trailer to take off her shoes and she heard someone walk by. She glanced out the window. It was Jacob. She opened the window and called out to him but he ignored her and kept walking."

  "Maybe he just didn't hear her."

  "It's possible. She was angry at him for ignoring her and slammed closed the window. She fell asleep on the bed until she heard Alexander yelling. She never saw where Jacob went or the time he returned to his own trailer. Through the last two interviews, Jacob stuck tight to his claim that he'd gone to sleep off his illness in his trailer. He claims he didn't wake up until he heard Alexander. Autumn's account contradicts his statement."

  Lester popped his head out the door. "Hey, Lacey, can I whip you up a coffee mocha?"

  My stomach was not feeling it, and there was a terrible bitter taste in my mouth, left there by the newest revelation in the case. I waved. "No thanks, Les. I drank two cups before I left home."

  I realized too late my mistake. Briggs was already giving me a raised brow.

  "Yes, I lied. I didn't run out of coffee. I saw you sitting here." I pointed to my shop. "Les and I are neighbors, remember? And I was being nosy. So there you have it. Full confession. But with what you just told me, I'm sort of wishing I wasn't so darn nosy. Maybe I'm better left out in the dark with this case."

  "It seems as if you still have feelings for Jacob." He quickly lifted the coffee cup to his mouth as if he wished he hadn't just blurted out that observation.

  "You are quite wrong, Detective Briggs. I don't have any special feelings for the man. He left me somewhat broken, after all. I'm just upset because all this time I considered myself to be an excellent judge of character. But it seems I'm no judge at all. I wore the man's ring for a short time. I considered him 'the one' until I discovered that I wasn't the 'only one'. But that hardly would make him capable of murder. Now I don't know if I can ever trust my own judgment again."

  Briggs placed his hand over my gloved hand. "We don't know if he is the murderer yet, and his being guilty hardly makes you a bad judge of character. You've helped me solve more than one murder in the past six months. That intuition of yours never fails." It was a sweet attempt to assure me, but I wasn't at all convinced.

  I wouldn't confess it to Briggs, but at the time, I fell quite head over heels for Jacob. Jacob, the murderer. Ugh. Now I was being my mom.

  I straightened enough to realize that Elsie's tease about a customer falling off the tall stool wasn't too far off. The cold air made the surface slippery and small. I positioned myself more securely in the middle of the seat.

  "You're right. Jacob is not guilty yet. Maybe Autumn made the whole thing up. Maybe she was upset with Jacob and decided to make him sweat just a little more about this whole thing. I know the girl, and I wouldn't put it past her."

  A few lines creased next to Briggs' mouth, a result of a lopsided, amused grin. "I'm going to be taking her formal statement today. We'll see if she changes it. And I'm going to be talking to Alexander again about the picture." He patted his phone. "It seems he hasn't been forthcoming about the true nature of his relationship with Jasper. No one has, in fact, and I find that troubling." He stepped down from the stool.

  I jumped off as well. "You're right. There does seem to be some kind of secret conspiracy surrounding their relationship." I clapped my hands together once. The sound was muted by my gloves, but I had his attention. "What if all three of them are in on the murder, and they want Jacob to take the blame?"

  "Motive?" he asked. "And don't forget we're working under the notion that the murderer was strong enough to hold a pillow over Jasper's face."

  I opened my mouth to answer him but realized I had no suggestions.

  "And ruining Jacob Georgio would probably be an end to the company and to their careers. Doesn't make much sense for them to sell their employer down the river, as they say."

  "Maybe it's just some creepy stranger who—I don't know, but sometimes the killers are an unknown entity, a drifter passing through maybe."

  "Yes, I know. It's sort of my business to know stuff like that."

  "Yes, right. Just putting it out there."

  "Trust me, Miss Pinkerton, we're looking at all the angles. Unfortunately, so far all arrows are pointing to the same suspect. But the case is far from closed."

  I nodded weakly. "Thank you for filling me in. Have a good day, Detective Briggs."

  "You too, Miss Pinkerton."

  Chapter 29

  Earlier in the morning I was questioning my ability to judge people's characters. Just two hours later, I was heading up to Maple Hill to visit the very person who had me doubting my judgment. Even as my foot pressed down on the pedal to coax my shabby little car up the hill to the Hawksworth Manor, I knew should have swung the car around and headed back down. Hazel had dropped by the shop, but I had been far too busy with customers to spare her any time. She scribbled a few lines on a notepad, then left the shop before we could talk. The message said that she heard Jacob was going to be charged and that he was beside himself with grief. She said he left the hotel early with Baxter Redmond, and they hadn't seen them since.

  Once the shop quieted for the morning lull, I slipped next door to the bakery and bought a fudge brownie, Jacob's favorite dessert, and headed up the hill. Jacob had been asked not to leave town, so I deduced that they had gone back up to Maple Hill to check out the scene and search for anything else that might help their case.

  I drove up to the top of the hill and parked along the side of the road. The makeshift police blockade had been dismantled, but there was still caution tape up around Jasper's trailer. The Hawksworth house looked extra sad. It seemed to only get attention when there was a tragedy on its grounds. It looked much more stately without the crooked chain link fence propped up around it. I was sure the fence would be replaced soon. The house was just too much of a temptation for curious trespassers. Like me. With everything that had happened, I'd pushed my last trip to the library far back in my mind. Along with the unpleasant meeting with the town's mayor.

  Baxter Redmond was still wearing the same toffee brown toupee, but he had more facial hair, namely a thick moustache that had been dyed to match the toffee brown hair piece. He made an attempt to button his coat as he walked toward me. His belly made that impossible. He didn't seem to recognize me, which wasn't too surprising because we'd hardly ever interacted.

  "Excuse me, Miss, can I help you?"

  "Actually, I was just hoping to see Jacob."

  Redmond was puffing some from his brisk walk across the lot. He stopped a few feet away and took out his glasses to get a better look at me. "Miss Pinkerton?"

  "Yes. It's me. How are you, Mr. Redmond?"

  "Hell of a mess. I understand you and that nose of yours were helping the police frame Jacob."

  "What? Frame? No. That's not true." I was about to argue the point when Redmond looked past my shoulder.

  "Lacey?" Jacob's voice sounded rough from the cold. Being faced with a murder charge was probably not helping either. The rings under his eyes got darker each time I saw him.

  I lifted up the pink bakery box. "It's a fudge brownie, possibly the best fudge brownie in the world."

  He smiled weakly as he took the box. "Thanks. Maybe I can just commit chocolate suicide."

  "You've delivered your brownie, Miss Pinkerton. But Jacob and I have work to do." Redmond had managed to button his coat, but the fabric was straini
ng to hold hands with itself.

  I decided to ignore Redmond and turned to Jacob. "I just came by to see how you were doing."

  Jacob nodded. "I've been better. They finally let me back into my trailer. I was just about to go inside and get some aspirin. Come with me and we can talk."

  Redmond cleared his throat. "As your legal counsel, I advise against it."

  "I think Lacey's already pointed out all the important evidence to the police. I don't think there's much else she can do." Jacob motioned with his head and I followed.

  "Glad to see you don't hold a grudge," I noted as we crossed the lot to his trailer.

  "This coming from the woman who walked out of my life and never talked to me again because she thought she smelled another woman's perfume on my collar."

  I stopped short of the steps to his trailer. "That's because you did have another woman's perfume on your shirt."

  His shoulders relaxed with a sigh. "There was a time when that nose of yours worked for me, instead of against me."

  I followed him up the steps without a second thought. Maybe it was stupid and dangerous. Or maybe it was because I knew Jacob was not a murderer.

  "They combed the place for evidence. I guess they thought I'd have some of that facial mask on my things, but they couldn't find any." Jacob walked to the small refrigerator and put the brownie inside. He made a sound. "I'm really losing my mind," he was speaking into the refrigerator.

  "Uh, if you're waiting for your refrigerator to answer, then I might have to agree with you."

  He straightened with a can of orange soda. "I have no idea when I grabbed an orange soda from the catering truck."

  "You hate orange soda," I pointed out unnecessarily.

  "Yes. Why would I have picked one up, and when did I pick it up? See, losing my mind. It's this blasted cold." Then he turned to the long line of cold medicines on the counter and reached for the bottle of aspirin. "I always get sick at the most inconvenient time." For a second he seemed to forget his predicament and the smile that had captured my heart appeared. "Remember that trip to the Bahamas with the board members?"

  "How could I forget? You were so sick with the flu and so drowsy on cold medicines, I had to go alone to all the dinners. With five of the stuffiest board members on the planet I might add."

  "You were a trooper. They all thought highly of you before the trip, but you really won them over during." His smile faded some. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Lacey. I never got a chance to say that."

  "Water under the bridge. Now you've got bigger things to think about. Jacob, why didn't anyone know that Alexander and Jasper were seeing each other?"

  He swallowed the aspirin. "How did you know about that?"

  I pulled out my phone and showed him the rainbow picture. He stared at it for a long moment. "That must have been just a few hours before he died." And there it was, the thing I was looking for that would convince me that I hadn't misjudged his character, the proof I needed that Jacob was not a murderer. There was no false sympathy or indifference in his words. He was genuinely sad that Jasper was dead.

  "The agency that Jasper worked for kept total control of any publicity for their models. They thought Jasper's success as the male face of Georgio's Perfume would be hindered if people knew about his personal life. It was in the contract we signed when we hired Jasper. Redmond and I were just waiting for the agency to release us from the non-disclosure reference. But I'm not sure that will mean anything now." He picked up the pile of empty lozenge wrappers off the counter and tossed them in the trash.

  "I heard there was some new evidence."

  "Yep, it seems my own people, including my girlfriend, have turned on me. Autumn insists she saw me walk by her trailer around the time of the murder, but I was right here sleeping." He waved his hand over the medicine bottles. "In a cold medicine coma. I can't figure out why she would lie about me."

  "So, it is a lie?" I asked.

  "Yes. I know you don't have any reason to believe me after what I did to you, but I slept through that entire morning. Right up until the moment I heard Alexander yelling."

  "Did Autumn know about Jasper and Alexander?" I asked.

  "I'm not sure. She was pretty close with Jasper. They dated, but he had just used her to get into the agency. Still, they hung out all the time. She might have known. I think the flirting game she was playing with Jasper was to upset Alexander. Jasper was angry with him about something. Either way, it doesn't help my case. Redmond is going to drill the detective on motive today to see what angle he's coming from. Or maybe you can give us some insight, since you seem to know him well."

  I shook my head. "Nope, I'm off the case."

  "Except that you're up here right now, and your eyes have swept this small room a few times since you stepped inside."

  I was about to be offended, but he looked so miserable I decided to ignore his insinuation that I was a police plant.

  "Speaking of me looking around—" I walked to the coffee table next to his couch. There were no cigarette butts in the ashtray. "I can't help but notice that your ashtray is clean."

  "Yes. Wow, you are still obsessed about my dirty ashtray habit."

  "No, that's not it." I rolled my eyes. "And even though those cigarettes weren't tobacco, it was a gross habit. But why are they clean?"

  He tapped the front of his neck. "Like I told the detective, they were making my throat worse."

  "But the one they found in your ashtray on the day of the murder? You said you didn’t remember lighting it."

  "I still don't. Must have been the cold medicine. Or maybe it's such an automatic habit, I couldn't remember lighting the thing. Or maybe I'm just losing my mind." He shook his head. "I just want to wake up from this terrible nightmare."

  Redmond's heavy footsteps sounded on the metal stairs to the trailer. He knocked hard enough to rattle the walls and windows.

  "Guess that's my cue to go. I've got to get back to work."

  Jacob nodded. "Take care, Lacey. And thanks for the fudge brownie. They're my favorite."

  I smiled weakly at him. "I know."

  Chapter 30

  The clove cigarette thing wouldn't rest in my mind. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for, but I decided to see if I could talk Briggs into letting me smell the evidence again.

  The moment I saw his car drive past the flower shop, I hurried out the door and headed down the sidewalk to the police station. He saw me as he stepped out of his car. He was carrying an evidence bag that seemed to be holding a pair of socks. He made a pathetic attempt to hide the bag by holding it behind him.

  "Miss Pinkerton, where are you off to in such a hurry?"

  "I was hoping to catch you, and it seems I have."

  "I'm actually kind of busy."

  "Yes, I saw the evidence bag you are working so hard to hide."

  "And doing a terrible job of it, apparently." He pulled the bag out from behind his back.

  I stared down at the socks and noted two things, not as an amateur sleuth but as a woman. They were men's socks, and they were dirty as if the wearer had gone hiking in them.

  "You don't have to tell me," I said.

  He nodded once. "That's good because I wasn't going to."

  "That's fine." I knew my nostrils were flaring slightly as I said it, but I couldn't stop myself.

  "What was it you wanted?" he asked.

  We were still standing on the sidewalk which I took as his way of telling me there was no reason to go inside the station. Fortunately, Hilda popped her head out the door. "Lacey, you have to come in and try the sugar cookies I baked."

  I shrugged and flashed Briggs a smug grin as I slipped past him to follow Hilda to her plate of sugar cookies. They were in the shape of hearts and covered with red and pink sprinkles.

  "Now mind you, they aren't as good as Elsie's but then no one bakes like that woman." Hilda went behind the counter to her desk and grinned proudly as she held the plate up for me. I kept the corner of my eye o
n Briggs, who'd walked through the gate with his bag of dirty socks. Surprisingly, he paused and watched me take a bite. As my teeth clamped down and the dry, flavorless cookie crumbled over my taste buds, I discovered why he had stopped. He turned his face to hide his amusement, while I worked up an enthusiastic chew and nod over the cookie. Hilda fidgeted with excited anticipation, waiting for my glowing critique. The cookie coated my throat like dry flour, and it took more than a few hard swallows to get the thing down.

  I held the other half in my fingers. "I'll save this for later. It's just delicious, and I want to enjoy it after my lunch."

  She held up the plate again. "Here take another and take one for Ryder."

  "Oh—are you sure?" I picked up two more and winked at her. "So good."

  "Miss Pinkerton." Briggs stopped at his office door. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

  "Yes," I said on a thankful intake of air. I covered my mouth to stifle a cough caused by a few dry chunks of cookie lodged in my throat as Hilda buzzed me through the gate.

  Briggs shut the office door behind me, and without a word, walked to one of the cupboards in his office. He pulled out a bottle of water, untwisted the top and handed it to me.

  I lifted it in a silent thank you and washed down the rest of the cookie crumbs. My throat cleared of choking debris, I sighed.

  "A little dry," he noted.

  "Like the Sahara desert during a drought. I'm not an expert baker, but I think she might have left out everything except the flour. But she's very proud of them."

  "I know. I've got my very own plate." Briggs walked to his desk and lifted a napkin on a plate filled with the cookies. He turned around and leaned against the front of his desk. "What were you coming to see me about? And I'm hoping it doesn't have to do with the murder case."

  "It has to do with the murder case."

  He nodded. "I figured as much."

  "It's all for nothing I'm sure, but I just wanted to get a whiff of the clove cigarette one more time."

  "Really? Odd request. What do you think you'll find?"