Banana Chocolate & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 2

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Banana Chocolate & Murder: An Oceanside Cozy Mystery - Book 2 Page 3

by Susan Gillard


  “We don’t intend to,” Detective Smith said.

  “I know you’ll catch him,” Ryan said. “It might be one of your last cases, but you’ll see it through and see justice served.”

  Detective Smith nodded.

  “And this will be one of your final cases, won’t it?” Ryan asked, trying to be delicate. “Do you have an idea when exactly you might be retiring?”

  “I can’t focus on that now,” Detective Smith said. “I need to find out all I can about the murder weapon.”

  “A murderous air tank,” said Amy. “Talk about dead air.”

  “We saw where Shelly got the air tank from,” Heather said.

  “Are you sure?” Detective Peters asked. “I understand the assistants also brought out some air tanks. Are you sure it wasn’t one of those?”

  “Positive,” said Heather. “The one she took out of the supply closet had a scratch in the paint. That’s the same one that killed her.”

  “Let’s go look the closet,” Detective Smith said.

  Peters, Amy, and Heather followed directly behind him. Ryan hesitated a moment. He wasn't sure if, following police procedure, he was allowed to be involved because he wasn't currently on the force. However, he couldn't resist and soon joined them after making sure Jamie was still all right talking with the married couple about what had happened.

  The other investigators were examining the door knob.

  “It does seem loose,” Detective Smith agreed. “It is possible that someone could have broken in this way to poison the air.”

  “Though it could be a red herring,” Heather said. “If someone had a key, they could have done it as well.”

  "Red herring," Amy sighed. "We're not going to see any fish today."

  “This is the supply closet that she took the air tank from?” Detective Smith asked, indicating to the clear locked door.

  Heather nodded.

  "I'll take an inventory," Detective Peters said, setting himself to the task. He started writing down everything that he could see through the door.

  Meanwhile, Detective Smith looked at the lock. “I’ll have forensics check that for prints. These locks aren’t cleaned very often. It might be hard to find a print. But we’ll try. I imagine everyone that worked her touched it, but if any other print is found it could lead to a suspect.”

  “Is there a chance that anyone who came out to learn to dive this morning is a suspect?” Ryan asked.

  “You mean he wanted to see her die in front of him?” Heather asked. “Some killers might want to watch.”

  "I don't think any of them are involved," Peters said, looking up from his inventory. "I spoke to them, and they don't seem to have a motive or much opportunity to commit the crime. The newlyweds arrived this morning. The trio of friends arrived the day before and chose this tour because their hotel had a deal with this place. They all say they never met Shelly Little before and they're all from out of state, so I think they're telling the truth."

  “That’s all right,” Amy said. “It’s not like we have a shortage of suspects.”

  “Her boyfriend and ex-boyfriend,” said Heather.

  “The other scuba school competitor,” said Ryan.

  “And the assistants who had access to everything,” said Peters.

  “Well,” said Detective Smith. “What are we all just standing around here for?”

  The Helpful Assistant

  “Thank you for speaking with us, Miss Krabowski,” Heather said.

  “I don’t mind at all,” said Julie. “I think I’m holding up a little better than Micah is. And I want to make sure you figure out what happened to Shelly. She was a great boss and a great person.”

  “With not-so-great taste in men?” Amy asked.

  "I guess that's right," said Julie. "No one she dated was a total brute, but she seemed to date, obsessive guys. They'd be fixated on her and get jealous for no reason."

  “Was her current boyfriend like that too?” asked Detective Smith.

  Julie nodded. “She and Dylan have been going out for a little over a year. They’re okay together. But he gets jealous a lot. He’s caused some scenes before.”

  “I know,” said Amy.

  “And who is Tommy?” asked Heather.

  “That was the guy she dated before Dylan. He was obsessed with her too. But while Dylan gets angry, Tommy got mopey. He’d sit around and act sad. Then she’d have to figure out why and it’d be something stupid. Like she had lunch with us on the boat instead of eating with him when they hadn’t made any plans.”

  “Is he still in the picture?” Detective Smith asked.

  “Yes and no. Shelly didn’t want anything more to do with him, but he’d show up here randomly and say how he still cared. Sometimes he’d come to the beach and watch us set out.”

  “Were there any other exes that caused trouble?” asked Ryan.

  "No. Though there were certainly other people, who wanted to date her. Even Micah… I mean…"

  “Please tell us everything you can,” said Detective Smith. “It’s not a betrayal to your friends or coworkers. It’s helping us with an investigation.”

  “Well, Micah had a crush on her, I think,” said Julie.

  “After the way he stood up for her and wanted to fight Hank Club on the dock, I can certainly see it,” said Ryan.

  “These questions you’re asking,” said Julie. “You don’t think this was an accident, do you? You think somebody killed her?”

  “That is the way we are looking at it,” said Detective Smith.

  Julie nodded. “It’s upsetting to think someone killed her, but I’m glad it wasn’t somehow a mistake we made.”

  “When did you last use that equipment?” asked Heather.

  "Yesterday and everything was working fine. Before we closed, we made sure that everything was setback up for this morning. Shelly did a thorough check, and all the tanks were filled the same way," said Julie.

  “And this morning?” Detective Smith.

  “We do a quick check in the morning,” said Julie. “But it saves time to do it the night before. It was never a problem.”

  “Who has access to the boat house?” Detective Smith asked.

  “Micah and Shelly and I had keys.”

  “Was the doorknob always loose?” asked Heather.

  “Yes,” Julie said. “We’d been meaning to fix it. We kept joking that someone would shake their way inside. Oh no. Do you think that could have happened? Because the doorknob was faulty someone broke in?”

  “Does that seem likely?” Detective Smith asked.

  “Oh no,” Julie said, turning pale. “Yes. It seems very likely. Someone did come here late last night.”

  “Who?” asked Heather.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I thought it was Micah at the time. But maybe it wasn’t Micah.”

  “What did you see?” asked Detective Smith.

  “I live close by,” said Julie. “That was a perk of the job. I could walk here. And from my bedroom window upstairs, I can see the boathouse. I saw a man there last night. I thought it was Micah. I thought he left his cell phone or a jacket there or something. He’s done that before. But I realize now that I never really saw him. It might have been a different man. And it might have been the killer.”

  “You were at home the entire night?” Peters asked, offering a question.

  "Yes. And my roommates can verify that. I was home all night. One roommate is a very light sleeper; she would have woken up if I tried to leave during the night. And I'm sure the other one would love to have me get in trouble with the police, so you can really believe her when she says I was home. We've been having a little roomie trouble. You see I do leave my socks on the floor, but she never cleans up her dishes and it… I guess after all that's happened now, that doesn't really matter."

  “What time did the man go to the boathouse?” asked Detective Smith.

  “It was around midnight,” said Julie.

  “Who knew the
combination to the storage closet?” asked Heather.

  “Shelly always used important dates for passwords. I think everyone who knew her knew that. Micah and I always knew what the combination was. It had been her anniversary for a while, but she just changed it to her birthday. We just had a party for her, so I think that was the reason for it. It was a really nice party,” Julie said sadly, trying not to focus on how it turned into Shelly’s last party.

  “Thank you for all your help today,” Detective Smith said. “We’ll let you know if we have any other questions.”

  As they left her, Heather thought aloud, “If the front door could be easily broken through and everyone who knew Shelly knew her system for passwords, then there are many people who could have committed this crime.”

  “True,” Detective Smith said. “But I’d still really like to have a word with Micah next.”

  They nodded. There was just one problem with the plan. Micah had run away from the crime scene. They were going to have to find him.

  Interviews, Interviews, interviews

  “You have to admit that it’s suspicious,” Amy said.

  “Of course, I do,” said Heather. “I just meant that we can’t assume that the killer definitely was Micah.”

  "He had an unrequited love thing going with Shelly. He had a key to the boat house and the code to the equipment. Julie thought that she saw him there before she said it might have been someone else. And Micah ran away from the scene of the crime."

  “You’re forgetting the other big thing,” said Heather.

  “What’s that?”

  "He was the one who handed Shelly the poisoned air tank," Heather replied. "She was looking at the other tanks, and he handed her that one."

  “Oh. Right,” said Amy. “So why don’t we think he’s the killer?”

  “He could very well be,” said Heather. “But we have three other suspects that could have done it. I just don’t think we should assume the case is closed until we’re certain.”

  “So, you want to interview the other suspects?” asked Amy.

  “I do,” said Heather. “But first we have some other interviews to conduct.”

  “Finding the right Donut Delights assistants,” Amy agreed. “I sure hope we pick good ones and they don’t kill us off like Micah did.”

  Heather groaned and was about to rebut when she saw that Mr. Rankle was outside his store and she had a good guess why. The young woman who Heather assumed was their first interviewee looked wide-eyed with fear after talking to the neighbor.

  “And good afternoon to you too, Mr. Rankle,” Heather said as she led the woman inside.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do?” Amy asked.

  Rather than respond Mr. Rankle huffed in indignation and returned to his shop.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fire a gun,” the young woman said.

  “What’s that?” asked Heather.

  “What that man was telling me. He said you were all from Texas and that you made your donuts by shooting holes in them.”

  “I see,” said Heather, as Amy tried to stifle her giggles. “And what else did he tell you?”

  The interviewee looked at the floor and mumbled, “That you can’t be trusted.”

  “And you said if we were nice to him he’d come around,” said Amy.

  “I said maybe. Eventually.” Then Heather said to the applicant, “How about we form our own opinions about each other? And then we’ll figure out if we’d work well with one another?”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said.

  "First things first. I'm Heather, and this is Amy."

  “I’m nervous. I mean I’m Nina. I’m nervous too.”

  “Let’s sit down and talk about something simple. Let’s chat about donuts,” Heather said. She decided to try out Bernadette’s interview technique. “So what’s your favorite flavor donut? Chocolate?”

  “I think everyone like chocolate,” Nina said. “But I think my favorite part about donuts are when they’re filled with jelly. Not many other desserts can do that. So, I think that’s what my favorite flavor is. Maybe a chocolate jelly-filled donut would be great too.”

  Heather nodded. Though Nina was nervous, she did give good answers to her questions. She had been going to school for pre-law but decided that the career wasn't the right one for her. She was figuring out exactly what her calling was but realized that what she enjoyed most about school was baking for charity fundraisers that were held a few times a year. While most of her classmates were doing it to pad their resumes, she discovered that it gave her great joy to bake. She hoped that baking donuts would be as enjoyable.

  After the interview, Heather said, “If all the interviews are like that, we’ll have a hard time deciding.”

  I don’t know,” Amy said. “She was nervous after Mr. Rankle rattled her. She might not do well knowing her boss is solving murders.”

  “Let’s see what some of our other candidates are like,” Heather said. “We’ll need everyone to work as a team too.”

  The next interview wasn’t nearly so pleasant. Amy almost agreed that she’d rather be talking to Mr. Rankle. They had been excited to talk with Charlie because he had professional chef experience. However, they liked him much better on paper than in person.

  “I’m a professional chef. I do not have a favorite donut flavor. They are beneath me,” he said.

  “If they are beneath you, why are you applying to work here?”

  “I don’t have to like something to excel at creating it.”

  “It certainly helps,” Heather countered.

  Charlie shrugged. "Look, I know that I must be the most qualified applicant that you're meeting with here. I've worked in several kitchens, and I am professionally trained."

  “Yes. Why did you leave those other kitchens?” Heather asked.

  “Artistic differences,” he said. “And now I find myself stuck on this island, and so I will grace your kitchens will my skills. Even if they are used to make little wads of dough with holes in them.”

  “Thank you for coming in,” Heather began.

  “Yes. When should I start?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think this would work out.”

  “You don’t want me? Why?”

  “Because,” said Amy. “Much like our donuts, your resume has a big hole in it.”

  He left abruptly. Then they met their third candidate for the day who was named Mollie.

  "I don't know. I don't like sweets that much. But I am great at remembering differences for food. I can keep track of the gluten-free donuts and the vegan ones and the ones made only of vegetables."

  Heather and Amy exchanged a look.

  “We have made gluten-free donuts before for a customer who had food allergies,” Heather said. “But we don’t specialize in desserts like that.”

  “Oh,” Mollie said. “When your name was Donut Delights, I just assumed that’s what the delights were.”

  “You know what happens when you assume,” Amy started.

  “We like to be able to explore every potential flavor,” Heather explained. “Our donuts are delights because they have rich and varying tastes.”

  “Oh,” Mollie said. “Delightful.”

  After the interviews were done, Heather and Amy sighed. They had thought that meeting potential employees and donut lovers would be fun, but this ordeal after their other ordeal was tiring.

  “I’m glad that’s done for the day,” Heather said. “I don’t want to interview anyone else today.”

  “Are you sure?” Amy asked.

  “Why?”

  “Because I saw someone that looks just like Micah walking by.”

  “Micah? Here?” Heather asked. She ran to the window and looked out as well. “It is him. But what is he doing here?”

  Amy shrugged. They saw him enter Bernadette’s Beachy Books.

  “Come on,” Heather said, running out the door.

  The Susp
ect in the Shop

  Heather and Amy hurried into the book shop, not sure what they expected to happen. They were still surprised when they saw what was going on.

  Micah was kneeling in the center of the room, sobbing. Bernadette was hovering nearby, offering him a handkerchief and confused help.

  “I’m sorry,” Bernadette said. “If you could just tell me the title of the book, I could find it for you.”

  “It was hers,” he cried. “Her book.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Bernadette said.

  Heather took a step forward. She and Amy had informed Detective Smith of their whereabouts as they rushed over. She wasn’t sure if she was about to confront a spiraling killer or a grieving loved one. Either way, with emotions running high, he might be dangerous.

  “What book are you looking for?” Heather asked. “How can we help you?”

  “She was reading a book this morning. It might have been one of the last things going through her mind. I’d like to read it as well,” Micah said. Then he looked at them more clearly. “You. You were there.”

  “We were,” Heather said. “And we’d like to help figure out what happened.”

  "She died," Micah cried. "There was something wrong with her tank, and she died."

  “What’s going on?” Bernadette asked.

  “Shelly was murdered this morning,” Heather told her. “This is one of her grieving employees. He’d like a copy of the book she just bought.”

  “Poor Shelly,” Bernadette said. “And yes, I can get you a copy of the book. Though, if I remember correctly, it was a romance novel.”

  “Too fitting,” Micah said.

  “It was a bit of a bodice ripper if you catch my drift,” Bernadette said, hesitantly.

  “I’ll still read it,” Micah said. “For her.”

  “Okay,” Bernadette said. She went to fetch the book, secretly happy for an excuse to leave for a moment.

  Micah looked at Heather again. “Why did you say she was murdered? Because we did something wrong with the tank and we killed her?”

 

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