While the six of us shared our experiences from the last several days, the waitress reappeared and took our order. Vance purposely waited to be the last of the group to recap the last several days. While the detective was regaling the rest of our friends with the unsettling news of two murders, I saw Tori glance over at Jillian. Tori’s eyes met hers, and then they traveled down her shoulder, along her arm, and then settled on Jillian’s hand. They widened in surprise, as Jillian had laid her left arm up on the table’s surface and I had placed my right over her left. Tori’s surprised eyes found mine and sought confirmation on her suspicions.
I nodded my head and smiled at her. I looked down at our fingers, intertwined together, and then deliberately back up at Tori. Vance’s wife gave a little gasp and she instantly covered her mouth.
“What is it?” I heard Vance ask. “What’s the matter?”
“Would you care to tell them or shall I?” Jillian quietly asked.
I patted Jillian’s hand, drawing everyone’s attention to the table in front of the two of us.
“Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“I’m glad we’re all together,” Jillian began. She beamed a smile at each person who was staring back at us. “Zachary and I have an announcement. We have decided to…”
“…get married?” Harry interrupted. He grinned and reached for his beer. “That’s totally awesome, you guys!”
“No,” Jillian said, shaking her head. She took a breath to try again.
“Get engaged?” Vance asked, before Jillian could speak.
Jillian laughed and again shook her head, “No. We have decided to…”
“Elope?” Tori hopefully asked.
Jillian giggled, “No. For heaven’s sake, let me finish! Zachary and I have decided to officially start seeing each other. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship. It’s been the same for Zachary, but we felt the time was right to…”
“Start a family?” Harry asked. “Unless… you already started?”
“Harrison!” Julie exclaimed. She gave her husband a mortified look. “I am so sorry, Jillian. You’ll have to forgive him. Harry’s mouth doesn’t come with a built-in sensor, like most people have.”
“What?” Harry exclaimed. He looked around the table at the group of friends that were returning the frank stare with amazed looks. “Come on, man! What’s everyone getting so bent out of shape for? You’d think I’m jumping to conclusions or something. I’m not that far off base, am I?”
Tori shook her head, “Neither one of them wanted to move too fast. Both of them had to work through their differences first. Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled to death to hear you two are making it official, but I have to know something. What brought this on, if you don’t mind me poking my nose in where it shouldn’t belong?”
I felt Jillian squeeze my hand before she turned to cast her beautiful green eyes at me.
“The moment was right,” I answered, correctly guessing that Jillian wanted me to answer first. “All these feelings that I thought I had bottled up for so long were starting to resurface.”
“And I called him my boyfriend without realizing that’s what I had done,” Jillian admitted. “In front of him, no less. And… he called me on it.”
“Oh, snap!” Harry exclaimed, thinking that Jillian had committed a major blunder.
“On the contrary, it was perfect,” I contradicted. “She called me her boyfriend, and I finally asked her if she’d like to take things one step further. I’m very pleased to say that she said yes.”
“Congratulations, you two!” Julie cried. She pushed her seat away from the table and hurried over to give each of us a hug. “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer couple. You two are perfect for each other.”
“Not to cast a shadow on this momentous occasion,” Vance dryly began, “but I thought they already were?”
“They already were what?” Tori asked.
“A couple,” Vance explained. “Wasn’t Zack and Jillian already a couple before today? I kinda thought they were.”
“So did I,” Harry admitted.
“Men,” Julie scoffed. “You two don’t have one romantic bone in either of you, do you?”
“Hey, I’m the King of Romance,” Harry argued.
“We’ll save that argument for a later day,” Julie decided. She smiled at both of us before turning her attention on Vance. “So, Detective, I’m hoping you can tell me something.”
“What’s that?” Vance wanted to know.
“What happened with Daryl Benson? It’s the only thing anyone at the station can talk about, but everyone I have asked doesn’t seem to know what’s going on. The only two things I know are that he’s been brought in and that he’s not officially charged with either of the murders.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Vance glumly reported, dropping his voice so that the other patrons in the restaurant couldn’t overhear.
“What do they have on him?” I asked, dropping my own voice to match Vance’s.
“Thus far, I’ll be the first to admit the evidence is circumstantial. Coffee cups found in the trash can. Prior history with one of the VICs. And then there’s the video surveillance that he alone provided.”
“What surveillance?” Jillian wanted to know. “Were there video cameras in the coffee shop?”
“Not only were there cameras in the café,” Vance began, “but there were cameras covering practically every square inch of that place. The security system was top of the line. Small, high definition cameras and a local recorder, which automatically sent the data offline to be stored. The icing on the cake is the raw footage. Every second of every hour is recorded, as opposed to those recorders which only record every 3 seconds. The footage was fantastic. And, access to the footage only required a username and password.”
“Which Daryl handed over willingly,” I reminded him. “But, if he was guilty, then why would he do that?”
“To throw us off his scent?” Vance guessed. “The footage doesn’t lie. I honestly think there’s enough probable cause in that video to charge Daryl Benson with the two murders.”
Bewildered, I shook my head.
“What was on the footage? What do you know that we don’t? Spill, amigo.”
“We have footage of each VIC coming into the café,” Vance proudly told us. “We have footage showing us that Daryl deliberately took over the registers while each VIC was there, thereby assuring himself that they would have to deal with him and not one of his young employees.”
“Couldn’t he have done that on accident?” Jillian asked.
“It’s possible,” Vance admitted. “However, it doesn’t change anything. And then we mustn’t forget the type of transaction.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Each VIC used their credit card,” Vance proclaimed. “Each VIC was seen pulling out their ID and presenting it to Daryl. Do you know what that means? It means they willingly gave their home address to our prime suspect.”
I frowned. That still wasn’t much to go on. How many different IDs had to have been presented when paying for a purchase? People use credit cards all the time. That wouldn’t prove anything. Vance glanced my way and nodded.
“I know what you’re thinking, Zack. And you may be right. The evidence is still circumstantial. Perhaps you’d like to see some direct evidence instead?”
“By all means, man,” Harry exclaimed. “Let’s hear it. Spit it out.”
“There’s footage of a direct confrontation between Mrs. Malone, who is victim #2, and one angry shop owner.”
“You have footage of the two of them arguing?” I asked, amazed.
“Not just arguing,” Vance informed me, “but having a full-on scene, right there in the store.”
“Do you have any idea what they were fighting about?” Jillian asked.
Vance nodded, “We think so. One of our lab boys, Matt, is deaf, so he can read lips. We had him sit down and watch the encounter.
He jotted down what he was pretty certain they said to one another.”
“And?” I asked, as Vance trailed off.
Vance pulled his notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. He began to read.
Man: can I help you?
Woman: hey, there, sugar. Long time no see!
Man: what can I get for you today, ma’am?
Woman: oh, there’s no need for such formalities. I told you before, you can call me Legs.
Man: that wouldn’t be proper. Would you like a coffee?
Woman: what I’d like is for you to serve yourself up on that platter.
Man: that’s entirely inappropriate, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from making any unwelcome advances while you’re in my store. Now, what would you like today?
Woman: unwelcome? Unwelcome?? Young man, I could have my pick of any (undecipherable) in here, do you understand me? I was giving you the opportunity to be with an experienced, (undecipherable) woman. If you’d like to waste that opportunity, then that’s solely up to you.
Man: Good for you, ma’am. Now, what would you like to drink?
Woman: I don’t think I like your attitude. Nobody turns me down. You see these? They’re (undecipherable) and they’re still perfect.”
“Hold up,” I interrupted. I looked straight at Vance. “Dare I ask what she’s talking about?”
“We asked that question, too,” Vance admitted. Then he shuddered. “From the context of the question, and the way she was physically groping herself – she had turned her back to the camera, thank God – we assume she was referring to her boobs. Daryl insisted she was cupping her girls together, and from the way he described… no. I respect all of you too much. I won’t repeat the description. Anyway, from the sounds of things, she probably gave them a hearty squeeze, right in front of Daryl. I’d also like to say, for the record, that I damn near lost my lunch on that one.”
“Wow,” Tori exclaimed. “She sounds like a very unique piece of work, doesn’t she? It’s almost as if she was desperate for attention.”
Vance nodded, “Yep. We were forced to watch that confrontation three times. For the record, the rest of the people in line were backing away from the two of them, as if they suspected they’d be resorting to physical violence sooner rather than later.”
“Was there any more to the recording?” Jillian wanted to know. “Zachary here has a nasty habit of interrupting and I, for one, wouldn’t want to miss the last part of that conversation. This is better than anything I’ll be able to find on television tonight, that’s for sure.”
Vance returned to his notes and nodded, “Here we go. It says…
Man: you’ve brought up a good point. In the future, I will need you to dress more appropriately. Our patrons must conduct themselves in a professional, socially acceptable manner at all times.
Woman: socially acceptable? How about I take you to that back room and show you what wouldn’t be socially acceptable? What would you say to that, sugar?
Man: I would say that, if you’re unwilling to stop this foolish behavior, then you will be ordered to stay out of this store until you’re able to conduct yourself like a proper adult. If you have no intention of complying, then we can each save each other sometime and I’ll have you banished from my business. So, what’s it gonna be, Mrs. Malone?
“I’ll bet that didn’t go over too well,” I mused.
“It didn’t,” Vance said, shaking his head. “After many more choice words, she finally ordered a simple black coffee and left. For the record, that’s exactly the story Daryl gave us.”
“So that makes him a suspect?” I asked. “Video footage of a creepy old lady who acts like a damn teenager?”
“Each piece of evidence by itself,” Vance explained, “isn’t necessarily enough to convict. However, if you get enough pieces together, then a picture begins to form. That’s what we have here. I don’t think there’s enough to officially charge Mr. Benson. Yet. However, the captain is eager to charge someone.”
“Oh, trust me,” I knowingly said. “I know all about the captain’s penchant for unsolved murder cases.”
Vance chuckled and then was asked a question by Tori. I would have repeated it here had it been relevant to the case, but as it was, she was only asking something about the girls’ schoolwork, so I tuned it out. At the same time, Julie turned on Harry and clobbered him on the shoulder and started a hushed argument, which I imagine had something to do about infusing social tact into everyday conversations. Since everyone seemed to be involved with their own situations, and Jillian was fiddling with her phone, I pulled my own out and started reviewing pictures.
“What are you looking at?” Jillian suddenly whispered in my ear. My new girlfriend had leaned over to rest her chin on my shoulder. I tapped my phone and started to put it away. “Sorry. I saw that you were on your own phone and was going to review some pics I took with this thing when I was with Vance.”
“When was I on my phone?” Jillian wanted to know.
“Just now. I assumed you were looking something up on the Internet.”
“Oh. That. No, that was me answering a question from Julie.”
“But she’s sitting right over there,” I quietly pointed out. I glanced up to see Julie furiously tapping out a message on her phone. A message to send back to Jillian?
“She and Harry are having a fight,” Jillian softly explained. “Not a major fight, mind you, but an extreme difference of opinion. I’d recommend you don’t take sides.”
I snorted into my soda, eliciting a giggle from Jillian, “Gladly. Consider it done.”
“Well, while everyone is still busy, and since they haven’t brought us the check yet, would you care to show me some of those pictures?”
“Sure. I’d love to. Let’s see. Okay, this was the most recent picture I took, so let me scroll backward a bit. All right, here we are. These are the pics from the duplex.”
“Let’s see what we have here,” Jillian mused. “Well, this one is out of focus.”
“How could that be?” I demanded. “Don’t these damn things have auto-focus?”
“Were you moving when you took the picture?” Jillian asked.
“I don’t think I was. Are all the pics like that? Blurry?”
“No. Looks like it was just the one. What’s this? You took a picture of a piece of trash?”
“What? Oh. Sherlock stole that out of the trash can. Then I had to chase his sorry butt around the house until he gave it back. That’s when I decided to start taking pictures of anything that caught his attention.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jillian said, smiling. “And this? You took a picture of the entire trash can?”
“Yep. It came out swimmingly, didn’t it? I mean, look at those colors. An empty yogurt container, discarded banana peels, and an orange juice can. See? Such bright, vivid colors. Why couldn’t the camera have made that one blurry? The friggin’ thing caught every disgusting detail.”
Jillian laughed and scrolled through the rest of the pictures. She moved on to the pictures from the second crime scene and had made it through two or three when she paused. A frown formed on her face. She zoomed in on the picture, returned to the previous picture to give it a closer look, and then jumped forward to the next photo.
“What is it?” I quietly asked. “Do you see something?”
“Maybe,” Jillian said.
She then swiped her finger along the screen in rapid succession, going backwards. There must have been a photo that had caught her attention, and she was going back for a second look. After a few moments, she paused again and then gave me a triumphant look.
“Do you see this?” she asked, as she handed the phone back to me.
I checked the display and saw that it was my very first photo, the one where Sherlock had stolen the piece of trash and then played keep away with it.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “What about it?”
“Keep that photo ingrained in your head. No
w, let me jump forward and find… ah. There it is. Now, do you see this one? What does that look like to you?”
“An empty, crumpled energy drink can.”
“No, not that. I’m talking about this here, to the left of the can.”
I studied the picture. It was another wadded up piece of paper.
“It kinda looks like the other one.”
“That is a baking cup wrapper. It’s what you would typically use if you were going to bake some muffins.”
I shrugged, “Okay. I’ve used things like that before, too. What about it?”
“There were two muffin wrappers, both identical. And, I’ve seen these wrappers before.”
“Let me guess. At Wired Coffee & Café? I know. I’ve seen their pastry display case. They’ve got some good looking things in there.”
Jillian nodded, “Yes, they do. However, all their baked goods come from an outside source; they’re not local. And these wrappers? Do you see the black marks there, on the middle of it?”
I magnified the photo as much as I could. Yes, I could see something black. There were too many crumbs and too many wrinkles in the wrapper to be able to distinguish any identifiable writing. For me, anyway.
“There’s something there, but I can’t make it out.”
“It says Farmhouse Bakery. Zachary, this is the baking cup Taylor uses whenever she bakes muffins!”
EIGHT
“You know this for certain?” I quietly asked. “I’d hate to make an accusation like this and be wrong about it.”
“I helped her design her logo,” Jillian confirmed. “I’m the one who designed all her marketing material, and in turn, helped create those wrappers. I had suggested she pass herself off as professional as possible. There can be no doubt about it. These are Taylor’s muffin cups.”
“Both VICs ate muffins? Jillian, that doesn’t bode well for her.”
Jillian nodded solemnly, “I know. We need to go talk to her.”
I checked my watch. It was going on 7pm.
Case of the Muffin Murders Page 11