Cinnamon Rolls & Cyanide
Page 8
I was surprised by how homey her place was. Her big cushiony couches faced the view rather than a tv. There were stacks of books around the room, and it was the sort of clean that still looked lived-in. The beginning of some sort of soup or stew was sitting on the counter as though we’d interrupted not a love scene but two people having a drink and making food together. It lessened the sordidness of the affair some, but I still didn’t like it.
If you judged a person by their home, I would have thought that I would have liked Roberta quite a bit more than I did. I could see in the place, however, why Simon had been with her. I had never considered there must be more to Roberta because she’d only shown me the nasty side of herself. That there was more should have been obvious. I knew that Simon had cared about her, maybe even loved her. I respected his opinion. I was so slow sometimes.
“I never met his mom,” Roberta said. “George talked about her like she was dead and gone. He always used the past tense when he referred to her which wasn’t very often. He talked about the money as his already.”
I tucked some stray strands of hair behind my ear and then asked, “Who saw George frequently. Near daily?”
“Besides me?” Roberta snapped as though I’d accused her of killing George even though I hadn’t been pointed at all in my question.
“Yeah,” I replied, “Besides you.”
“We already know you’re a suspect,” Zee told her.
I looked around again and noted the open bottle of wine and another of whiskey. There was only one wine glass, but there was also a glass of ice that looked like it was filled with coke. I assumed that Jake had been drinking whiskey and coke.
I was pretty sure that Jake wasn’t 21. I shook my head at the sheer irresponsibility of Jake drinking with Roberta and sneaking out. How many of those drinks had he had? The whiskey bottle didn’t look freshly opened. Was the part that was gone over time or had he drank that all just that evening? Was he sober enough to drive? It had been long enough that if Jake had driven away, he was long gone. I could only pray that he didn’t hurt anyone if he was drunk.
“The only people who were around George regularly were his staff. He had as much trouble hiring people as you do. Which is why Jake took the job. Jake doesn’t have much money. It bugs him that he couldn’t,” Roberta faded out, glancing away. Her cheeks flushed and I guessed that Jake wanted to take her out to nicer restaurants but couldn’t.
I doubted that Roberta wanted that anyway. Poor Jake didn’t know he was Roberta’s dirty little secret.
Roberta took a deep breath and added, “Jake was struggling for money. George needed more workers and was pressuring me to help him find some. So, I suggested Jake for the evening and weekend shifts. Jake was doing me a favor. He even got his ex-girlfriend to work there though she quit last week.”
“Something George did?” Zee asked.
Another possible suspect, I wondered.
Roberta shook her head and then admitted, “The son.”
“That family,” I said under my breath.
A theory was forming in my mind as to another possible reason for George’s death. But there were so many options. A son who killed him for the money. A son who killed him to protect Grandma. A young girl who killed him after he or his son harassed her. Roberta who killed him because she was being blackmailed. Jake because George was awful. Some other blackmail victim. Surely if there was one there were more? Me. I couldn’t forget myself since he’d stolen my recipes. Someone else he’d hurt like he’d hurt me?
“There were too many reasons to kill George.”
“I want to kill him,” Zee said. “Or desecrate his grave. He was awful.”
“Where’s his ex?” I asked. Why hadn’t we thought of her before? Someone had married him once and given him sons. Wasn’t the killer always the spouse? Or the ex?
“She died,” Roberta said. “I guess it was ugly. I didn’t ask for details.”
And another reason. The sons or the family of the wife who killed George for however he treated the wife. I couldn’t imagine that he was nice to anyone. Not even the wife.
“You know anything about her besides the fact that she’s dead,” Zee tried.
Roberta just shook her head.
“So we’ve learned that George acted like his mom was dead. And that he, or at least his kid, was a jerk to work for.”
“I vote for the kid,” Zee said. “Who could have a better reason to kill his dad than the kid.”
“He probably knew the truth of how the mom was treated. And it wouldn’t be surprising if it was pretty badly. He knew how Grandma was being treated. There’s money. Dad’s dead and you’re the boss. Could he have more motives?”
Roberta scowled at Zee and I, poured herself another glass of wine, and said, “That’s my whole point. The cops have him. No more need to keep messing around. Just…leave me be.”
“It wouldn’t be surprising if he was the killer,” I said. “But the police didn’t arrest him for killing his dad. They arrested him for the damage he did to the diner.”
Zee and I talked with Roberta for a while longer, but there was nothing more to find out. If she knew anything else, she kept it hidden. I wouldn’t have been surprised that she was involved in something shady that changed the flavor of the case but also made her look bad. If she was involved in anything else, she wasn’t spilling.
TWELVE
The next morning, the diner was closed. I was tired of murder and asking people about the bad things they did. I was tired of dealing with Roberta and seeing how her selfishness was messing up Jake’s life. I had been blue and solemn since I’d seen Mrs. Lavender in her own mess and realized that the people who should love her best were taking advantage of her to steal.
I didn’t see why couldn’t both steal from her and take care of her. I bet Mrs. Lavender might not have loved being stolen from. Who would? But to be left like that? With barely anyone looking after her? That was attempted murder as far as I was concerned.
I glanced over at the empty bed. Simon had kissed my forehead before he left. I had been determined to sleep in. But he had to respond to the search warrant they’d finally received for the houses of the Lavender sons.
The police department coroner said it was pretty likely that he had been killed by cyanide. As crazy as it seemed, cyanide wasn’t a controlled substance. But, if they found it, it would be solid evidence to ensure the Lavender sons got what they deserved.
I hadn’t bothered to tell Simon I still wasn’t sold on the sons as killers. It wasn’t that I couldn’t see that working out, I could. It just didn’t add up for me. My thoughts didn’t matter as far as the police were concerned. They followed the evidence. Zee and I mostly followed the gossip train.
My Daisy weaseled her way up my body until her chin was on my chin and she kissed me. Her puppy breath covered my face and I tried to shove her off. Not only was her breath stinky, Daisy was mostly basset hound. Those dogs were far larger than people realized since they were so sturdy. I was having a hard time breathing easily as she made me her mattress.
Mama Dog yipped at me from the floor. It was a demanding little bark that insisted on a walk. I was sure Simon had taken the dogs out. I even vaguely remembered the sound of the dog crates opening and Simon shooing the dogs out of the bedroom. But a walk did sound lovely.
I sat up and stared at the paint swatches on the walls. I was still leaning towards the purply gray one. It bothered me to admit it, but Roberta’s perfect house made me want to finish decorating my own. With a glance outside, I threw on a pair of warm leggings, a tank, and a long fisherman’s sweater. It might be coming on summer but the Oregon Coast weather tended towards spring-like and fall-like with the occasional bursts of sunshine. Today was one of those cool springy days that required something warmer.
This is what I needed, I thought as I loaded up my car with the dogs and wound my way down to the beach. A morning on the beach with the dogs and then, perhaps, lunch with Simon. I
f he was done early enough, maybe we could even drive over to Lincoln City and go to Blackfish Café? They had the best clam chowder and the rest of their food was amazing too.
I didn’t take Simon’s old fella, but I did take Daisy and Duke—our mostly Bassett hound dogs and the little long-haired Weiner dogs. I probably looked like the crazy dog lady as much anyone who entered Zee’s place would realize she was a crazy cat lady. I wasn’t sure how many cats Zee had, but I was sure that they’d eventually eat her corpse. Or at least I was sure that she hated me telling her so which made the telling extra fun.
We parked near the cottages where I had once lived and walked down to the beach. The public parking lot and access was quite a ways down the beach, so it was mostly deserted for me and the dogs. I had brought several tennis balls for the dogs to chase, and I threw them for the pups. I loved the quieter end of the beach since the dogs could run without bothering anyone. They darted different directions with one of the Weiner puppies chasing the waves while another one wrestled a tennis ball. Before long, we’d walked quite a ways.
We were on the part of the beach that was all houses without a hotel to be seen. It kept this part of the beach pretty quiet, but there was someone running near the waves and a few families playing in the sand just beyond where the waves touched.
The pups tongues were lolling and their eyes were laughing and suddenly I thought of the look on the Lavender son’s. He’d been so furious when he broken my door. I preferred not to think of him as George Justin Junior. It made him more of a son. Of someone who had lost his dad. They were jerks, both of them, but jerks could love each other.
He had been so angry the day before when he’d gotten the letter from my lawyer. I thought about the way his eyes flashed as he got up in my face and tried to intimidate me into letting him have what he’d stolen from me. Into backing off from what I knew was right with my diner. I knew it was possible for someone to be both angry in the moment and calculating and slow. He could have murdered me in that moment. I wouldn’t have been all that surprised. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been slowly killing his dad by poison. But something was bothering me.
Duke came running up to me with the ball in his mouth. He dropped it and barked happily. Basset hounds were mostly lazy dogs, but every once in a while, Duke and Daisy did a little more than pant at my feet or mosey next to me. They were still young, of course. I imagined before long they’d cross the line into full time feet warmers.
“Hey,” someone said as he reached down to pet Mama Dog. She was almost quivering with joy at the prospect of someone loving on her, and I grinned at them, my smile fading when I saw Jake.
“Hey,” I said. I was suddenly nervous. Here we were alone. He should be at work. Why was he here? Oh goodness, I thought. Not him. Please not him. “I’m surprised…you’re here…with the…mayor’s offices open. That’s a pretty good job, and I…”
I trailed off, I was starting to panic but trying to hide it. I had left my phone in my car. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. Why had I been so stupid?
He grinned at me, but the smile didn’t go to his eyes. I had known he was spoiled. I had known that he was young and dumb and his mother seemed to despair of him. He had been indulged. But I hadn’t realized how cold his eyes were. How they fixed on me and I didn’t feel like he was seeing a person at all. Who else would be so good at killing a man slowly, with poison than someone who didn’t see others as humans?
“Why didn’t you leave it alone?” That question was, perhaps, the most terrifying thing he could have said to me. Mostly because of how he said it. Like he was sorry that he was going to squash me.
I knew what he meant, of course. He meant that I should have stopped asking questions the moment those Lavender men had been arrested. I shouldn’t have visited Roberta the night before. He must have thought that I knew more than I did. I had only wanted Roberta’s feel for things. I hadn’t been sure about anything. I glanced around. There were people on the beach, but they were families. With little kids. And they were too far away. Even if they were close enough to hear me, I couldn’t ask for help. I couldn’t put those kids in danger.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I tried, but my gaze darted away, and anyone would have been able to tell I was lying.
He laughed, a bitter noise, and then said, “Don’t play stupid.”
“I…”
“Even if you hadn’t figured it out before, you would have as soon as you realized that Junior had an alibi for the day his dad died. I should have waited…but I didn’t. It’s the little things that mess you up.”
“Jake…” My voice was gentle as I said, “They’ll know it was you.”
He laughed again. Bitterly and madly. “Of course they will, but at least Roberta will be happy with you out of the way.”
My eyes widened and I turned, running towards the street. It took him only a few steps to catch me. The dogs were in a barking frenzy, and he kicked one of the dogs out of the way. I heard a yelp and I swore at him. The dog cried, and I knew it was really hurt. Was that one of my little pups? The Weiner dogs were so little. I wanted to claw Jake’s face off. I wanted to make him pay. I wanted to get my sweet puppy and carry her or him to help, but instead I was hauled away.
I fought, twisting and going boneless, pounding on him whenever I could until Jake’s fist connected with my jaw and I saw stars. The last thing I heard was the howling of one of my precious basset hounds.
Then nothing.
* * * * *
The fact that I was awake was more than I expected. If I had been capable of guessing what would have happened after I had been punched, it wouldn’t have been ever being conscious again. So the slowly arriving awareness was more than I could have hoped for. A small tongue licked my chin, and I forced my eyes opened.
There was a queen bed in the room with a generic quilt and lots of beach decor. No personal touches. The place screamed empty beach rental. Of which there were hundreds just in Silver Falls. My heart raced. How would I ever be found? I tried to sit up and my wrist was caught. A silver bracelet prevented me from doing more than shifting a bit.
I was handcuffed to an old style radiator with Mama Dog on my lap. She must have kept up with Jake. I caressed her long ears, my lip quivering, my face where he punched me aching. I tried to listen for some sign of whether I were alone or if Jake was nearby. I couldn’t be sure.
I scratched at Mama Dog some more and wished she wasn’t here. For some reason, Jake hadn’t kicked her out. Maybe he hadn’t realized she had followed? She was a sneaky little thing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d kept out of sight until Jake was gone.
None of the other dogs were here. I hoped that whoever had been kicked was ok. Surely if they were hurt someone would find them and help them? Oregonians loved dogs. Tourists brought their dogs to Silver Falls all the time and no one minded them coming into the stores or curling up by their owner’s feet while they had lunch. I had to believe that whichever one was injured was going to be ok.
Simon would get the dog back eventually and he’d take care of my pup. Tears welled. I wanted to be the one to take care of my little fluffy beast. I wanted to be the one who held her. It must have been one of the Weiner pups. The yelp was so high-pitched. If I could get away, I was going to claw Jake’s face right off. That dog was 9 pounds soaking wet. The dog would be lucky if it survived depending on how hard he’d kicked it.
I took a deep breath and tried tugging my wrist free from the handcuffs. I was going to have bruises from the attempt. Jake had squeezed the handcuff tight, and there was little room to even wiggle. I tried twisting my wrist and tucking my thumb towards the center of my hand, but there wasn’t enough leeway.
I couldn’t get free. My panic was increasing, and I had to force myself to breathe more slowly. If he hadn’t killed me yet, there was still hope. Simon would do whatever he could to help me. Maybe someone had called the police? It wasn’t like the beach had been deserted. It
wasn’t that far of a reach that someone had seen and called the police. Whoever got the call would know immediately that it was me with all the dogs.
I tried again to get free, but I couldn’t make my hand small enough. I’d have considered leaving my hand behind if it were possible. Like a bear who gnawed off its paw for freedom, I would have done the same. I would live that way. I would be able to love that way. To pet the dogs, to kiss Simon, to talk with my friends. It would have still been a good life without one of my hands. But no matter how hard I pulled on my wrist, I couldn’t break free.
“Help,” I cried, deciding to risk Jake’s wrath. I shouted and screamed. I tried anything, but not even Jake responded.
When my voice gave out, I whimpered, “Oh Mama Dog.”
I would have given just about anything to get her out of there, but I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until I smelled the smoke that I found out there was another level of terror. I’d have thought that being handcuffed in a room was the summit. But it wasn’t even close. There was being trapped in a burning house. I had been afraid before, I had been in a fire before, but I had been able to get free. This time…this was so much worse.
I tried to get something, anything to break the window. Whoever invested in the windows made them impassable. I could barely reach it and my feeble banging was doing nothing. I tried to tell Mama Dog to shoo through the cracked door, but she curled closer. The smoke was starting to come under the bedroom door and through the few inches opening.
Tears started at the sight of the smoke. I knew that dying by flames would be bad. The best that I could hope for was a slow, insidious death from smoke.
“Please leave, Mama,” I begged her, but she just whimpered and tucked into my side as if she knew that the smoke would kill us both. Maybe she did. I’d rescued her from a fire before.