1 Death by Chocolate

by Carol Lee

  “You didn’t hear it from me,” she smiled and handed me a couple of dollars.

  “Dahling, the gathering will go on as planned tonight. I think we all need a distraction. Maybe you could stop even for a bit, you know just to be social, TTFN,” she swished out the door without waiting for me to give her an answer.

  I felt pretty confident that my dinner with David was off, so maybe I should go and see what I could find out to help me clear my name. I’d talk to David about it later. In the meantime, I wondered how to find out more about Willie’s connection to Barbara and her son. Willie could be about the same age as Barbara’s boy, so maybe they went to school together, but I thought he had grown up here in Fish Creek Falls and it sounded like Rachel thought Barbara’s son hadn’t been in the area. Could the son have come back? Could Willie kill? It seemed that when you looked hard enough nearly everyone could have a motive of some sort. I went over to the desk to try and search for something about baby homes in the area and realized I currently had no computer. I fished my phone from my coat pocket and started to type in keywords.

  The phone vibrated and a text popped up from Lizzie. Up…called off…cya at 7ish

  I sent a smiley face back and kept searching. I found out that the nearest baby home had been closed in the 90s, but it was only thirty miles from Fish Creek Falls. I didn’t know if Barbara had been the type to go far away to have a child, or if she’d stick close to home. Sighing, I thought. It’s just one more piece to the puzzle. I went to rescue the muffins and to check the dough. So much for the extra people coming into the shop, I thought as I glanced at the clock. 6:15 and no one had come in since Rachel. Well, it gave me more time to think about what my next move would be.

  I could have talked to Rachel about the D by C cake and her alibi, but I got a little sidetracked with the story about Barbara’s son. I wondered if Ron had known about the boy. He just got out of jail. Maybe he’d get a big insurance payout from Barbara. That’s a good motive. I felt like the Willie info and the thought about Ron inheriting money could be strong leads. Reaching into my pocket, I took out the card that had David’s contact information on it.

  I swiped my phone and quickly dialed his personal cell number.

  “This is David.”

  “Um, hi. It’s Myra.”

  “Green Eyes. You found my card, huh? What’s up?”

  I could hear the background noise of his car so I knew he was driving somewhere. Since he called me Green Eyes, I guessed that he drove alone.

  “I had some thoughts and wondered if you could check them out, you know, officially?”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll tell you how official I can be.”

  I told him about Willie’s argument with Barbara the night before she died, my encounter with Willie yesterday morning, and my thoughts about Ron. He listened quietly.

  “I can check out the insurance thing and I’ll see if I can track down Willie for a chat,” he said.

  “Great, thanks!”

  “No big deal, but don’t count on that all to pan out before things get tough for you, though. Make the call to the lawyer just in case.”

  My legs gave out and I leaned on the counter. Before things get tough?

  “Are you telling me that I’m going to be arrested?”

  The call failed beeped in my ear. I hit the call back button and it went straight to voicemail.

  “Call me as soon as you can!” I nearly shouted and hit end.

  Get a grip, I told myself. I had to keep my head clear and not freak out. I took a couple deep breaths and decided to shape some bread loaves. I also dumped the coffee that I’d made earlier and started some new pots. I knew that I’d be wasting them, too because no one would be coming in today, or maybe ever again if I were arrested, but it gave me something to keep busy with, at least.

  Then I heard the door and got to the counter quickly.

  “Bailey? How are you doing? Are the police really calling you a suspect?” Mark had a serious look on his face, but I thought he looked more curious than concerned. Word travels so fast in a small town.

  “Looks that way. What can I get you, Mark?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to see how you were dealing with everything and to let you know that I’m in your corner. I know you didn’t do this,” he reached out and held my hand that rested on the counter.

  “Thanks. Really, your support means a lot.”

  “Of course, and now, you’ll see; the people won’t be able to get in here fast enough after all this is cleared up.”

  I smiled, but didn’t know what to say. Mark had been feeling responsible for my success in town since he’d told me about the building and brought me to the Main Street Merchants meeting to introduce me. I felt a little like his prized pig or science project that he showed off to people, but having another supporter right now was worth anything.

  “Well, on second thought, how about a slice of your Death by Chocolate? I think I love it even more than your molten chocolate cake,” he winked at me.

  My mouth went dry at the mention of those two desserts together, “uh, I don’t have either one today, sorry,” I wiped the counter, breaking the hand holding. “Something else, maybe?”

  “I don’t think so,” he turned to leave.

  “Hey, what did you need the D by C for? Cast party or something?” I thought quickly, “Because if you need more, just let me know and I’ll have it ready for you.”

  “Good to know, but that one was for me. Of course I did share some of it,” he smiled.

  He had street clothes on this morning, I noticed.

  “No run this morning? I guess it’s too late for that today, huh?”

  His smiled faded slightly, “No run today, I slept in this morning.”

  “How far do you usually go now?” I asked conversationally. He ran sprints in college, but that, as Rachel pointed out, had been ages ago.

  “A few miles I guess, I usually run for about forty-five minutes and then finish out the hour with a cool down jog or walk. Want to join me sometime?” he asked quickly.

  The question surprised me, “Maybe, but I think I’d be better with the cool down pace,” I wiped the counter again and he waved as he left. He seemed to be walking like he was stiff, but I didn’t want to be too obvious by asking too many questions.

  As I thought about Mark running yesterday, it hit me that he’d been sweating when he’d come into the bakery. His money even felt damp, I remembered. I thought that he had been ready to go for a run and not done with it, but then why had he been all sweaty?

  Then I thought about calling a lawyer. My legs felt quivery just thinking about it, but it didn’t make sense to not at least make the call. I tried to get myself under control before I dialed, but I could barely keep a single thought in my head, other than the fact that I desperately didn’t want to go to jail—especially for something that I didn’t do. It was still early, probably too early to call. I couldn’t wait for Lizzie to come. She could help me make sense of everything. I wiped the counter again just to do something. What I really wanted to do was go to Barbara’s bakery and have a look around. Not sure what I could find that the police didn’t but since they are so sure that I am a killer, I gulped perhaps they might have overlooked something that could point to the real killer or at the very least something that would put me in the clear somehow.

  I decided to go and make the bread and rolls for the day because at least I’d be productive while my thoughts raced. I knew that I had made too many, but I could always sell them as day old and still make something on them.

  Once I popped the last batch of breads into the oven the door opened again and in breezed Lizzie.

  “Hey girl what’s shaking with this morning?”

  “Just my legs, David said I should call lawyer,”

  Her cheery good-morning smile faded, “Isn’t that a little premature? Does he think things really look that bad for you?”

  “I think he’s being careful.
” I said and grabbed the rag to wipe the counter, yet again. “But the police aren’t looking at anybody except me, so I guess I should call someone.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t they be looking for anyone who might have a motive?”

  “Because they think, well Peter Lynch thinks that I have the best one.”

  “Maybe, but isn’t Detective Hunky helping you out?”

  I smiled, “He is, but Lynch is the lead detective and this is a very small town.”

  Lizzie fiddled with the empty card holder and didn’t say anything right away.

  “There has to be a way to clear my name. What if there is a bit of evidence that they’ve missed? The bakery has to hold the key.”

  “We can’t just pop over to the crime scene and have a look around, though,” she said.

  “I have to do something. I don’t want to go to jail!”

  “I know, MB, but it’s just not possible that you would be found guilty of Barbara’s murder so this is all just a nightmare until we get it all sorted out.”

  “I wish I were as optimistic about it all as you, but it doesn’t feel like it’s going to all work out. I’m really scared.”

  Lizzie came around the counter and gave me a hug and then snapped into analytical mode. “Okay so, let’s go over what we already know about the murder. First Barbara was working by herself, second she had your molten lava cake recipe card under her body and your death by chocolate cake was found at the scene of the crime. Ron was supposed to work but went to his mother’s. He had a motive because of an insurance money maybe, but who else could be a suspect?”

  I quickly told her about what I found out about Willie and how I had called David to tell him about it.

  “I would never have thought that Willie could be a killer!”

  “We still need to check Ron out, though.”

  “Didn’t the police say that he’d gone to his mother’s house?” asked Lizzie.

  “I know, but when did he go and how far away does she live from the bakery? She’s old, sick and maybe not a great alibi when it comes down to it.”

  “Well, I think it’s time to bring something over to Ron and pay your respects.”

  “What?”

  “Give me your apron. She reached to untie it. I’ll stay here and mind the store while you go to Ron’s and see what you can find out.”

  “I can’t go over at this time of the morning.” I started to retie the apron.

  “Then, go home and take a shower, change, rest, run , go talk to Rachel and Mark, call the lawyer like Detective Hunky told you to do. Just go home for awhile. I’ll be fine.”

  “I already talked to Mark this morning. He bought the cake for himself, he says. I wonder who he’d shared it with? I guess it didn’t matter all that much. But as far as I can tell, he didn’t have a motive to want Barbara dead.”

  “I’ll be fine, really.”

  “Sure. You, who can’t boil water, are going to be fine in my bakery?”

  She blushed slightly and said, “Well, is there anything left to cook this morning?”

  “You mean bake?” Thinking of the several dozen rolls and six loaves of breads baking. “No, I think I have enough.” I went to the oven and took out the rolls.

  “Then there is no problem. All I have to do is make coffee, which I can do and sell stuff.”

  “You’ll have to take the bread out in about ten minutes,” I added.

  She nodded. “Look you know what you want to ask Ron about stuff and to check with Rachel anyway, so why don’t you talk to them yourself. After come back here, and we’ll plan how to get into the bakery, if you still really want to. Maybe Hunky will let us in.”

  “I don’t think David would be able to do that. He might bend a couple of rules, but breaking and entering in a crime scene probably isn’t a great career move.”

  A car pulled up and Lizzie looked out the window.

  “Hey, isn’t that Detective Lynch? Maybe now would be a good time to disappear, MB.”

  I looked out the window to see him standing next to his car. He was on the phone and he was alone. Maybe that meant he wasn’t coming to arrest me. My heart raced and I felt a bit nauseous as I slipped off the apron, grabbed my phone and coat and went out the back door.

  “Text me,” I hissed.

  If I could get to the end of the block, then I’d be out of sight from the main street to my house. Did this make me a fugitive? No, it couldn’t I hadn’t been arrested, so technically I wasn’t escaping from anything.

  I waited in the back for a minute, hoping that he’d gone inside the bakery already. His car was parked at the end of the block, so it didn’t give me much choice but to go past it to get home. With a deep breath, I moved from beside the back door and started around to the front. No one ever was in the empty lot on that side of the building. When I got to the side window, I ducked under it. I could barely move with the adrenaline building and making my legs wobbly and almost unresponsive. I hoped Lizzie would distract him long enough for me to scoot away. At the front corner of the building I peered around the wall. Peter paced a bit as he continued to talk on the phone. I had to calm down my heart as it pounded so hard that I couldn’t hear well. I crouched down a bit and leaned around the corner to see if I could hear a snippet of the conversation. He didn’t look happy, but I wasn’t sure that I’d ever really seen him look happy before.

  “She’s guilty, man. I don’t care if you are still stuck on her. I’ve got to go.” He slapped his flip phone closed and jammed it into his coat pocket and then strode into the store. Poor Lizzie, I thought as I raced from behind the building and past the car to the other side of the street. I slowed to a walk just before the end of the block where I turned to go home. I wondered who he had been talking to and if I had been the “her” that he spoke about to the caller.

  Once there, I quickly changed my clothes into some khakis and a button down shirt. It looked a bit wrinkly so I rummaged in the closet for a sweater to put over it. I tried to think about what to say to Ron when I saw him. Maybe I could just see how he reacted when I called on him and go from there.

  “Of course,” I said to my reflection in the mirror as I fixed the sweater, “if he thinks that I murdered his wife; then he may not be all that glad to see me.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Only eight in the morning, so it might not be the best time to go knocking on his door.”

  I fished my phone out of my pocket and searched for the lawyer that David told me about.

  A gruff voice answered the phone, “Cahill and associate.”

  “Um,” I stammered taken aback by the sound of the voice since I had expected a receptionist or someone who sounded pleasant to answer the phone, “Good morning. I wondered if I could speak with Brian Cahill, please.”

  “You’ve got him. What can I do for you?”

  “Right, well, you see, I think I may need a lawyer.”

  “Well, my normal hours are 9-3, so my secretary isn’t in yet. Can you call back in an hour to make an appointment?”

  “Can’t I tell you what’s happening since you’re already on the phone?”

  He sighed and made a loud sipping sound. “Alright, I guess I did answer the phone, what’s your issue?”

  So far, I really didn’t find this referral to be all that helpful. “I may be charged with murder, but I am innocent. I don’t think anyone cares about that part. Detective David Bentley gave me your name.”

  “Ah, old Davey B. So he’s made detective now. Well good for him! Wait, are you involved in the hoopla over in Fish Creek Falls?”

  “I am, but I didn’t kill Barbara.” I said again not really certain that he heard me the first time.

  “Who is this?”

  “Myra Bailey, I own the new bakery in town and it was my cake that poisoned her, but it wasn’t me. Can you help me, Davey, I mean David said he thought you would be the best since you grew up here…”

  I heard a car in front of the house
and went to the window to look out. It was Peter Lynch.

  “The police are here,” I shrieked a bit.

  “Ok, Myra Bailey, I’ll represent you. I like a challenge. Say nothing, if you are arrested until I get there. If possible, say nothing before that too, should they just wish to question you further. The gruff voice had become somehow kinder and filled with an enthusiasm that hadn’t been there before. “Give me your address and I’ll be over in a half hour.”

  I babbled the address as the knock on the door came. “Thank you,” I said and hung up to answer the door.

  “Good morning, Ms. Bailey, I’m surprised to find you at home. I thought you’d be at your bakery.”