M.urder R.eady to E.at (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 2)

by Anita Rodgers

  Trembling Beidemeyer revolted and tried to push Ted off him. And though the men were of comparable size, Ted held Beidemeyer against the car without effort. His growl more threatening, Beidemeyer acted like a man who knew he was going to die.

  Terrified Ted was losing control, I jumped out of the car. "Ted, stop!"

  Keeping his eyes on Beidemeyer, Ted yelled, "Get back in the car, Scotti. Now!"

  Beidemeyer shifted his frightened eyes to me. "It's not what you think. Why are you persecuting me? Why did you go to the cops?"

  I inched nearer and peered into his face. "But you're the Jody, right?"

  With a shaky voice Beidemeyer said, "She's setting me up. Don't you see that?"

  Ted snapped at me. "Scotti stop encouraging him!" He tightened his grasp on Beidemeyer. "Don't you talk to her. Don't you ever talk to her!" He cocked back his free arm. "Do you hear me, mother-fucker?"

  I hazarded a couple more steps toward them. This was the real Captain America, in action. A dangerous man if provoked properly. "Ted, listen to me. You have to stop before things get out of control. Let him go."

  Ted's eyes flitted to me for a second and his nostrils flared. "Nobody's out of control. But this stops right here, right now."

  I held up my hands. "Okay, okay. I'll call Daniels. Are you listening to me?" I pulled out my phone. "I'm calling Daniels."

  Ted kept Beidemeyer pinned to the car, but he nodded and slowly lowered his arm.

  Daniels he picked up on the first ring. "Scotti, I was just about to call you."

  "Why?"

  "We’re at Beidemeyer's house, serving a search warrant as we speak. That was the person of interest, right? The one you couldn't name?"

  I looked at Ted and frowned. "Yeah. That's him."

  "Well kiddo, you were right. The evidence is piling up. We've got an APB out on him…"

  "He's here." I quickly explained the situation to Daniels. “Can you please come get him?”

  "Hang onto him, I'm on my way."

  Ted glared at me, his adrenaline still stoked and plumping the veins in his neck and forehead. "Well?"

  I put the phone in my pocket. "Daniels is on his way. He wants us to hold him." Ted grunted and held onto Beidemeyer, whose panicked face gleamed with sweat. "Ted, just take his car keys and put him in his car. He's got nowhere to go."

  Ted looked at me as though he didn’t hear me.

  I nodded and spoke more firmly. "The cops are on the way, babe. Just take his keys and sit him in his car."

  A small knot of curious onlookers gathered behind us, murmuring, and whispering. I glanced back nervously. "All these people are witnesses. He won't get away, honey."

  Ted slowly released Beidemeyer, then shoved him into his car. He reached in, took the keys out of the ignition, and jammed them in his pocket. Pointing a warning finger at Beidemeyer he said, "Don't move."

  Beidemeyer held up his hands in surrender.

  A young black man stepped out of the crowd. "Hey man, what the…" Ted spun toward the man, who instantly backed up. "Okay, okay, we're cool." He held up his hands. "Chill, man."

  I stepped closer to Ted and whispered, "You all right honey?"

  He nodded and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out his arm to me, which trembled from the adrenaline dump. I stepped closer, and Ted pulled me toward him. He bent his head and whispered, "Don't be scared. I know exactly what I'm doing."

  "Okay," I whispered. "But people are watching, be careful of what you say."

  His eyes flitted to the crowd. "Roger that." He pulled me tightly into his arms and his heart pounded like a train thundering down the tracks. "You're safe now, baby. It's okay."

  I looked up at him. "I'm more worried about you than him."

  He told me to stand on the other side of the BMW, so we could watch Beidemeyer from both sides. He nodded at me. "It's all good."

  Sirens headed our way. Ted leaned into the car and said, "You lucked out mother-fucker. If I ever catch you near her again, I'll kill you."

  I gasped, and Ted's eyes shot up. I shook my head at him, but he pulled out of the car and looked toward Foothill.

  When the two black and whites and Daniels' unmarked rolled into the lot, I let went limp with relief. Daniels stopped a few feet away and bound out of the car with Davis behind him. She wasn't showing yet, but she was moving slower than usual.

  He nudged past Ted, "Excuse me." To Beidemeyer he said, "Carl Beidemeyer, you're under arrest for the murder of Ron Jansen." He then read Beidemeyer his rights and handed him over to the uniforms approaching from the rear.

  Beidemeyer was cuffed and put in the back of a patrol car. The crowd was canvassed, then quickly disbursed. Then Daniels bent down to the cop in the cruiser that held Beidemeyer and said, "Take him to the station. We're right behind you."

  The patrol cars rolled onto Foothill and swiftly took off. Ted, Daniels, Davis, and I stood in the parking lot talking in hushed voices while keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers.

  According to Daniels, Marika Jansen rolled over on Beidemeyer during questioning. She insisted that she’d tried to talk him out of killing Ron, but he was bent on his mission. And she was too scared to go to the cops because he threatened to kill her.

  Thus far, the search of his home had yielded several bottles of the same pharmaceuticals that killed Ron. They expected to find more evidence, but with the drugs and Marika's testimony, they figured the case for a slam dunk.

  “So she talked him into killing Ron, then got cold feet? Tried to talk him out of it and he went ahead with it anyway?”

  Daniels chewed on his rubbery lips. “That’s the gist, yeah.”

  I shook my head. “Sounds weird to me. If they wanted to be together then she could’ve just divorced Ron. With the shape he was in, it would’ve been a snap."

  Davis smirked. "Quarter of a million dollars does a lot of persuading." I raised an eyebrow. Davis nodded. "Life insurance policy on Jansen. Plus, if she'd divorced him, she'd have to split the property and probably pay alimony."

  I nodded. "Yeah, that is a lot of persuasion." I frowned. "But it was her idea, so doesn't that make her a co-conspirator? She took out the policy on Ron — she had the motive, not Beidemeyer.” I shrugged. “I mean sure, he wanted her but Ron wasn’t stopping that, he was minding his own business living on the streets. And Beidemeyer was married. What was the plan — kill Ron, then kill his wife too?”

  Davis shot me a cautionary look. "Don’t strain your brain trying to make more of it than it is.” She fanned out her arms. “It’s a simple case of man led by penis —nothing more, nothing less.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So she just walks and Beidemeyer takes the fall?”

  Daniels nodded. “Yeah, they call that irony.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. "She’ll serve some time. But probably not much."

  I shook my head and sighed. "That’s just wrong."

  Davis nodded and snorted. "God bless the justice system, eh?”

  I looked out to the traffic on Foothill. "Speaking of divorces, you might want to see if Mrs. Beidemeyer is willing to turn over the report from Joe." I looked back to Daniels who squinted at me. I held up my hands. "Just a suggestion."

  Daniels stretched his neck and yawned. "Okay partner, let’s wrap this and see if we can salvage the rest of the weekend."

  I scanned the lot. "What happened to Fuller?"

  Daniels glided his arm toward Davis. "My partner kicked him to the curb."

  Davis rolled her eyes. "Fuller was just a temp assignment. He went back to Hollywood Division Friday."

  I nodded and smiled. "Well, you’re sure prettier than him." I didn't tell them that Fuller knew Beidemeyer. Why get the guy in trouble? Guilt by association was hard to shake once it latched onto you, and there was no reason to think Fuller had any knowledge of the scheme.

  Daniels patted me on the back and said, "Good detecting pie lady." He shook Ted's hand. "Thanks for the assist, buddy."

  Ted and I stood in the pa
rking lot, eating our cold chili cheeseburgers, and watched them drive away. Ted put his arm around me and squeezed. "It's over, babe."

  I leaned against him. "It'll be a relief for Donna. At least she'll get some justice for Ron and her family."

  We tossed our trash, got in the car and started for home. I rested my head against the car window, taking in what had just happened.

  Ted ran his hand down my arm. "You okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He took my hand. “You're not afraid of me now, are you?"

  I gave him my eyes. "You were pretty fucking scary with Beidemeyer."

  He put his hand in my hair. "But you know I'd never hurt you, don't you?"

  I pressed my cheek to his hand. "I was more afraid you'd hurt yourself."

  He scoffed. "Beidemeyer didn't stand a chance."

  I stared at him. "That's not what I meant. You threatened to kill him, Ted."

  Ted pulled over and put the car in park. "Yeah, okay, I wanted to kick the shit out of him. And I got satisfaction out of putting the fear of God into the mother fucker. But no matter how it looked, I knew exactly what I was doing. I had the control." His expression was resolute, even a little proud. "And I achieved my objective."

  I looked into his eyes. Was he under control or did he just think he was under control? He’d created the effect he wanted — Beidemeyer was terrified. But was he trying to scare the shit out of me too? "Mission accomplished, Captain."

  He snorted. "Damn straight."

  I took his hand. "But I don't ever want to see that look on your face again."

  He cocked his head. "If everybody stays in line, then you never will." Then he put the car in gear, and we started toward home again. He glanced at me. “Don’t worry about me babe, I’m cool.”

  Oh, but I was worried.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  We were both a little shell shocked when we got back to my place and collapsed on the sofa. "Is the madness over?"

  Ted rubbed my back. "Yeah it’s over. But you'll probably have to testify." I groaned. "Maybe he'll take a deal. Given the racial components of the crime, he might have a hard time finding a sympathetic jury."

  I chuckled. “Listen to you sounding all lawyer like.” I squinted at the clock on the wall. "Crap, I have a lot of baking to do tomorrow, and it's already tomorrow." I rolled off the sofa and tugged on his hand. "Time for bed, big guy. And by bed, I mean sleep."

  Ted lumbered to his feet. "I'll help you with the baking."

  I rolled my eyes. "Just what I need, a gorilla in the kitchen." I shuffled to my room and fell into the bed — tugging my clothes off while lying down. Ted sat on the edge of the bed, texting. I frowned at him. "Who are you texting?"

  "Just a quick SOS," he said.

  I was too weary to ask for an explanation, so I tossed my jeans on the floor and burrowed under the blankets. All I wanted was to put an end to the day and forget it.

  Ted tossed his clothes on the floor and slid in beside me. He pulled me close and nuzzled my neck. “You smell good.”

  "Ted?"

  "Yeah, baby?"

  "You wouldn't really have hurt Beidemeyer, would you?"

  He held me tighter and sighed. "I might've knocked him around a little."

  "But…"

  He pressed against me and kissed my neck. "Go to sleep, baby. What’s done is done. Everything's okay."

  “Are you okay?”

  “As long as I have you, I am.”

  “You’ll always have me.”

  “Then I’ll always be okay.”

  “But…”

  “Go to sleep and dream about good things.”

  “Like pie?”

  “Go to sleep honey.”

  And I didn't open my eyes again until I smelled pastrami sandwiches. There are certain scents my nose can detect from long distances, and pastrami on rye is one of them. An aroma so enticing that I become Zelda-like in my pursuit of it. I cracked open my eyes and sniffed. I sat up and stretched. Since Ted wasn't next to me, I concluded he was in the kitchen guarding the sandwiches.

  I sprung out of bed, pulled on a tee-shirt and hopped into a pair of shorts. "Ted, Jordan you better not be eating those sandwiches without me." I flung open the door and made a bee line for the kitchen singing, "Somebody went to Billy's."

  I stopped in my tracks when I found my kitchen swarming with Jordans. Ted, Melinda, Steve, Matt, and Ginny looked up in unison and grinned at me. Several takeout containers sat in front of them. "Did I miss the memo?"

  Ted chuckled and said, "I told you it would wake her up." He curled a finger to draw me into the circle. "Hungry, honey?" He pushed out a stool with his foot and patted it. "Come on, we've been waiting for you."

  I shuffled to the butcher-block and hopped onto the stool. Without waiting for an invitation, I popped open a container, snagged the giant sandwich, then bit into it. Rich pastrami, yellow mustard, soft billowy corn rye all melded into an explosion of flavor in my mouth. Before I could swallow, Ted handed me a Dr. Brown's Cream Soda. I chugged half the bottle, then went at the sandwich again. When I realized no one else was eating, I paused. "So you just came by to watch me eat?" I pointed to the other containers. "Because I'm prepared to eat them all."

  They went from audience to participants and passed around food. Groans emitted from pleased palettes. I nodded. "See? Right? Best, ever. Am I right?"

  After the feeding frenzy hit a lull and we came up for air I said, "Okay folks, lovely to see you again but I have a lot of work to do."

  Ted stroked my back. "Right, that’s why they’re here."

  Blank stare.

  Matt chuckled and said, "We're you're kitchen bitches, dude. Get it?"

  "What?"

  Melinda started to clear the butcher-block. "Ted sent an SOS, so here we are."

  I winced. "You're going to help me bake?"

  I must've looked terrified because they burst out laughing. Ted cupped my chin. "Don’t worry recruit, they know what they're doing in the kitchen." He jerked a thumb toward the back counters. “See what I mean?”

  I turned to the back counters and saw they were lined with muffins, brownies, coffee cake and blueberry tartlets. "Where did those come from?"

  Ted beamed at Melinda. "Mom got here early and started."

  I gaped at Melinda. "Those look exactly like mine."

  Melinda blushed, actually blushed and said, "I hope you don't mind. Teddy gave me your recipe book."

  I glared at Ted and smacked his arm. "That was hidden. How’d you find it?"

  He laughed. "They don’t call me Captain America for nothing."

  Melinda patted my hand. "Don’t worry darling, your secret recipes are safe with me."

  My heart opened to these people, who only weeks before I was sure were the enemy. Zelda’s jaw would’ve been on the floor if she’d been there to see the change in me and them. And I felt her absence even more at that moment. Was this how it was supposed to be? Zelda was gone and Ted’s family was her replacement? "That’s so nice of you guys. But it's too much. I can't ask you to give up your Sunday.” I swept an arm toward the back counters. “You've already done half the work. Really, I can take it from here. And really, thanks."

  Ginny flapped a hand at me. "Don't be a silly goose. Compared to that cake, this is nothing. We're here until all the work is done."

  "Yeah, including stocking the truck," Matt said.

  "But it was just one cake."

  "Which you spent hours creating," Melinda said.

  I blushed and looked away. "Not that long."

  Melinda wagged a gentle finger at me. “You can't fool me, Scotti. I know the time and energy required to conceptualize and design a cake like that — much less pulling it off with perfect execution.” She took my hand and squeezed it. “And how much love went into it.”

  Unaccustomed to praise from Melinda I squirmed. "It's just what I do. Bakers, bake, right?"

  Ginny put her arm around me. "Come on Scotti, l
et’s us say thank you.” She started to cry. “We’re all family here, right?"

  I hugged Ginny and laughed. "Okay, let’s not get the sandwiches soggy." Sliding off my stool I said, "Okay folks, you asked for it. Fall in troops."