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Case of the Muffin Murders

Page 14

by Jeffrey M. Poole


  “Go easy on her,” I quietly whispered to Vance. “Something is wrong, here. None of this makes sense. I’m starting to get the feeling someone is setting her up.”

  “It’s okay, Zack. I’m just here to talk to her.”

  We arrived at the table, where Jillian immediately slid over so that I could sit next to her. After a few moments, Taylor did the same so that Vance could sit. Taylor’s eyes dropped to the table and refused to move.

  “Taylor, I can tell you’re not having a good day,” Vance gently began, “but I do have to ask you a few questions, okay?”

  Taylor nodded sullenly.

  Vance placed a small plastic baggie on the table. I could see that it held the used baking cup wrapper from crime scene #3. Vance slid it over to Taylor and tapped the table to get her attention.

  “Is this one of yours?”

  Taylor’s red eyes flicked over to the evidence bag and she sobbed. After a few moments, she sadly nodded. Vance slid the bag back over to him and returned it to a pocket. He pulled out his notebook and uncapped his pen.

  “Okay. As you may or may not know, there have now been three murders that have happened in the last couple of days.”

  Taylor sobbed quietly and wiped the corners of her eyes with the napkin Jillian quietly offered.

  “Zack told me there had been two,” Taylor softly said.

  “The count is up to three, I’m sorry to say. Zack told me he has already informed you that two of your wrappers have been found at the other two crime scenes.”

  “Baking cups, and yes. He told me.”

  “That one I showed you makes number three.”

  “W-who was it? Who died this time?”

  “A guy by the name of Paul Timmons. He was…”

  “The reporter!” Taylor exclaimed, letting out a small cry. “Oh, no! Not him!”

  I glanced over at Jillian. She was born and raised in this town. She has gone on record many times stating she practically knew everyone in PV. Was this someone she knew?

  As if she was reading my mind, Jillian suddenly looked my way and gave a small nod of her head, confirming she did. Then she gently lifted her hand from where she had been resting it on the table and gently waggled it, suggesting she only knew him marginally. I was about ready to ask Jillian what she knew of him when I saw that the young boy from before, the one that filled the case earlier, was now heading in the direction of our table with a concerned look on his face. Then, to my astonishment, I saw Jillian make eye contact with the boy, gently shake her head no, and pointedly look back at the counter. The kid immediately reversed course and disappeared behind the counter.

  I’ll have to inquire about that later.

  “How did you know Mr. Timmons?” Vance was asking Taylor. “When was the last time you saw him alive?”

  “Oh, Paul,” Taylor sobbed. “I am so sorry. What? What did you ask me?”

  “When did you see him last?” Vance repeated, although this time he used a gentler tone. It might have had something to do with the frown Jillian was now wearing.

  “Four days ago,” Taylor answered.

  Vance grunted once, pulled out his notebook, and started taking notes.

  “Was it before or after you saw Mrs. Malone hit on one of your employees?” I asked Taylor.

  “Not long after. Perhaps… perhaps an hour? An hour and a half? I’m not sure.”

  “Taylor, why do you remember Mr. Timmons coming in here?” Jillian asked. “Based on your reaction, I can only assume you knew him a lot better than the rest of us.”

  “He asked me out,” Taylor softly replied. “He was so nice. He was polite. He was genuinely interested in me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had anyone look at me like that?”

  Vance and I shared a look. Both of us had the same deer-in-the-headlights look on our faces. This was a subject that neither of us wanted to participate in.

  “What did you tell him?” Jillian asked.

  “I said that I would think about it.”

  “After four days, that answer must’ve been no,” Vance guessed.

  Taylor sadly shook her head, “I was planning on calling him tonight. This is Friday. Things have been so stressful in the bakery that I wanted to go out. I wanted to do something fun. And now this. Oh, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  The three of us looked helplessly at each other. Talk about a streak of bad luck! I don’t think things could get much worse for Taylor unless Vance arrested her right here, right now.

  Taylor suddenly looked at me and placed a hand on mine, “Zack? Would you… would you do something for me?”

  I automatically nodded, “Sure. If I can. What can I do for you?”

  “You managed to get my security system up and running,” Taylor began. “Do you know anything about wireless routers?”

  Surprised, I looked over at Jillian, whose shock mirrored my own.

  “Some. I’m still learning. Is there something wrong with your router now?”

  “I can’t get online. My customers have been saying that the password no longer allows them online, as if I changed the wireless password. I didn’t, Zack. I swear! I can’t get to the Internet, I can’t check my email, and I can’t check for orders. I can’t even pay my bills!”

  Jillian smiled warmly at me and batted her eyes, “Zachary will get it up and going for you. He’s getting much better with modern technology lately, haven’t you, dear?”

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” I remarked, as I felt my face flush red. “I’ll get it up and running Taylor. Where’s it at?”

  Taylor stared at me for a few moments before offering me a smile, “Just behind the counter there, pretty much between Garret and Emily. Emily? Will you show Zack the router? He might be able to get it back online for us.”

  The young girl nodded, “Sure thing, Ms. Adams.”

  While I worked on the router, I tried to keep an eye (and ear) on the table.

  “Dear?” Taylor repeated, as she turned back to her friend. “You called him ‘dear’? Is there…? Are you two…?”

  Jillian smiled and nodded, “Yes, to both questions. Zachary and I have officially started seeing each other.”

  Taylor might have been having the worst time of her life, and she might even be arrested for murder, but I watched her push that aside and smile at her friend. That smile spoke volumes. She was happy for us, even with her own life in the shitter.

  I was determined to do whatever I could to help make things right. I stand by what I said earlier. I think she was being set up, but the question is, by whom?

  This router, on the other hand, was fairly easy. And Samantha, if you could only hear me utter those words now. Back when my late wife was alive, she was the tech nerd and I was the blissfully unaware technophobe who didn’t know anything about electronics.

  As for the router, all it needed was to be reset, using the handy dandy reset button. Then, while it was powering up, I power cycled the bakery’s high-speed modem. Once it came online, I did the same thing for the router, and then gave it time to reboot. Once it did, I checked the default settings on the configuration sticker on the bottom of the router and tried logging in with my phone.

  Eureka. It worked perfectly.

  “Your Wi-Fi network is working now,” I told Taylor, as I slid back into the booth next to Jillian. “It just needed a proverbial ‘kick in the pants’ to get its attention. I don’t know if you had any custom settings on it before, but it’s been reset so that the settings match the sticker on the bottom of the thing.”

  “That’s what it was set to before,” Taylor informed me. “I’d like to know how it got changed.”

  “You might have had someone that knew what they were doing in here,” I suggested. “If they logged in with a laptop, they might be able to figure out your admin password and thereby lock you out. No worries. It’s working fine now.”

  Taylor gave me a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

  �
��So, do you know of anyone who would want to set you up?” I asked Taylor, as gently as I could. “I mean, there’s no other way to put this, so I’ll just come out and say it. Do you have any enemies?”

  Taylor shook her head, “No, not that I’m aware of. I may not be as popular as Jillian here in PV, but I’d like to think that I get along with most people.”

  “You said ‘most people’,” Vance said, looking up. “Who don’t you get along with?”

  “There’s only one person I can think of, and that’d be my ex-husband.”

  It was Jillian’s turn to shake her head, “He’s been out of the picture for years now. I doubt very much it’d be him.”

  Taylor nodded, “I’d have to agree. My ex-husband and I may not get along, and we probably can’t stand to be in the same room with the other for an extended period of time, but I don’t think it’s him, either. If he wanted to do something drastic like this, then I would’ve thought it would have happened earlier. Years earlier, if you ask me.”

  “Where is he now?” Vance asked. “I might need to talk to him. Do you have his contact information?”

  Taylor sighed, “No. I’m sorry. I really have no idea where he currently is, aside from not here in PV.”

  A commotion from behind us drew all of our attention. Emily, the young girl working the counter, was trying to get Taylor’s attention.

  “Would you excuse me for just a moment?”

  Taylor and Emily started speaking in hushed tones. There was an older woman standing patiently in front of the display case, wearing a very noticeable frown. From the whispered conversation, we were able to glean that the order for this woman’s cake had somehow become lost and now she was here to collect it. For a birthday party, no less.

  “Oh, no,” Jillian groaned. “The poor girl. She doesn’t deserve this.”

  “I really need to speak with her ex-husband,” Vance quietly remarked. “I think we need to eliminate him as a suspect.”

  “He’s in Utah,” Jillian softly murmured.

  Vance and I looked up at her comment.

  “What was that?” Vance asked.

  “Taylor’s ex. He’s in Salt Lake City, Utah. At least he was when I hired a PI to track him down last year.”

  “You hired a private investigator to find Taylor’s ex-husband?” Vance slowly repeated. “They aren’t cheap, Jillian. May I ask why?”

  “I needed to know where he was. Taylor went through a very bad time early last year. I honestly think it was a mid-life crisis, only she is much too young for that. She became convinced that she was being stalked and her life was in danger. It took 8 months of counseling to straighten that mess out, and don’t you dare ever repeat that to anyone, including her. If Taylor knew I told you two that, then she’d never forgive me.”

  “Counseling sessions are pricey,” Vance mused. “And don’t ask me how I know that. How could Taylor afford that? Was it covered under her insurance?”

  “It was covered by private benefactor,” Jillian said, with a small smile on her face. “I convinced the psychologist’s office to send me the bill and then tell her that there would be no charge for her session. Any sessions.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” Vance observed.

  “It sure is,” I agreed. “I kinda get the impression that you’re her guardian angel.”

  Jillian took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “I like that analogy. Thank you, Zachary.”

  We waited patiently for Taylor to return to the table. It’s not like she tried skipping out on us. Quite the contrary, she kept apologizing to us every ten minutes. She had a cake to make, and seeing to her customers was her number one priority. So, for thirty minutes, the three of us chatted at that table. Vance told us about his daughters’ academic achievements while Jillian regaled us with amusing stories of people not knowing how to cook and the catastrophes that were created as a result. As for me, I really didn’t have any funny stories to tell, other than me getting my new tractor stuck in the mud. Twice.

  When Taylor finally rejoined us, she seemed to be in a better mood. I even brought that up the moment she looked my way.

  “I think I’m better when I’m working. Losing that woman’s order turned out to be a good thing. It helped to clear my mind.”

  “Have you ever lost an order like that before?” Vance wanted to know. The ever-present notebook was back in his hand.

  Taylor’s face became hard, “No. Never. Not once in any job I’ve ever held have I lost someone’s order.”

  “Kinda strange that all this is happening to you at the same time, isn’t it?” I asked.

  Jillian nodded, “I agree. That’s what I keep telling her. This isn’t right, Taylor. No one has consistent bad luck like this. Someone is trying to set you up.”

  “Whoever that is, they’re doing a great job,” I said, using a quiet voice.

  Vance grunted once by way of acknowledgement.

  “This has definitely been the week from hell,” Taylor confirmed. “Display cases failing, product spoiling and/or melting, and my security system going on the fritz. What am I forgetting?”

  “Lost orders,” Jillian said.

  “Router locking up,” I added.

  “I should have known this was going to happen,” Taylor softly muttered.

  The three of us turned to stare at the bakery shop owner.

  “You should have known what was going to happen?” Jillian gently asked.

  “That this was going to be a bad week. I always trust my instincts, and when they tell me that an experiment fails, it should be time to pull the plug and just move on. Did I? Oh, no. I had to see it through.”

  “See what through?” Jillian wanted to know.

  “Most Mondays, I’ll try something new in the display case,” Taylor explained. “Sometimes it’s a cookie. Sometimes it’s a brownie. This week? Well, this week was a muffin.”

  Once more, the three of us fell silent as we stared at the woman who had risen from the table and had begun to pace. A muffin? That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

  “All I wanted to do was to offer something different, using local ingredients. What was the result? It was a dud. Any time I have ever tried something new, and it bombs, well, that’s a sign.”

  “A sign for what?” I wanted to know.

  “Bad luck,” Taylor answered.

  “For the record,” Vance began, as he scribbled a few notes, “what was the new offering that no one liked?”

  “It was a muffin. I called it, ‘Morning Bliss’.”

  “That’s a wonderful name,” Jillian remarked.

  “Hardly,” Taylor scoffed. “It was more like, “Morning Bomb’. I didn’t sell many of them.”

  “What kind of muffin was it?” I asked, drawing looks from my three friends. “Hey, I’m curious, that’s all.”

  “I wanted to use ingredients found locally, as a nod to our small community here in Oregon. So, I decided to make something with salal berries.”

  “With what berries?” I asked, confused. I had no idea what a ‘salal’ berry even was, let alone what they looked like.

  “Hey, I’ve seen those on the side of the road,” Vance said. “They’re those shrubs with shiny, dark green leaves?”

  Taylor nodded, “Yes. Exactly. The berries are a dull blue-black color. They’re great for recipes. They’re tart, taste wonderful, and are full of vitamins and antioxidants.”

  “I use them whenever I make fruit leather,” Jillian commented.

  I looked at my new girlfriend with surprise written all over my face.

  “Hey, I own a kitchen store. I have a dehydrator. Making fruit leather was the first thing I used it for. Salal berries are great. I’ll make you some salal berry preserves someday, Zachary.”

  I shrugged and gave Jillian a smile, “You’re on.”

  Vance suddenly frowned. He looked at Taylor and then back at her display case.

  “When did you say you made those muffins?”
r />   “I made them early Monday morning,” Taylor answered. “I was really surprised. I thought they’d sell better. I only sold four. I tossed the rest after a few days before they could grow moldy.”

  “I don’t suppose you remember what type of muffin those three victims ordered, do you?” I asked.

  Taylor looked at me and, surprisingly, her eyes filled with tears, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Vance suddenly gasped and hooked a thumb back at the display case, “Those muffins? They each bought one of those newfangled muffins?”

  Taylor closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, “I know Mrs. Malone did. I gave it to her for free.”

  “You need to stop doing that,” Jillian quietly scolded.

  “I know, but I had to shut her up. It did the job, so it was a price I was more than willing to pay.”

  “What about the first victim?” Vance wanted to know. “Did she buy the same muffin?”

  “That’s the one I’m not sure about,” Taylor admitted. “I think she did. I’d have to check and see if I entered the name of that muffin into my point-of-sale system, or if I just called it ‘new muffin’.”

  “And this Paul character?” I asked. “He bought one of these muffins, too?”

  “Buy, no. But take one when offered? Yes. Look, I’m sorry, Jillian. I know what you’re going to say. I was trying to get the word out about the muffins. I thought they were good.”

  “You said four muffins,” Vance pointed out. “That’s three that you know of. Three people ate those muffins and now those three people are dead. We need to track down who bought that fourth muffin and we need to do so now. Whether there’s something in those muffins, or whether someone is targeting the people that bought them, we need to know.”

  Jillian hesitantly raised a hand, “Umm, I may have the answer to that question.”

  “You do?” I took Jillian’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That’s awesome! Who is it? We need to warn them!”

  “Zachary, it was me. I... I bought that muffin. Four days ago.”

  TEN

  Three surprised faces stared, uncomprehendingly, at the woman sitting on my right. Taylor gasped with horror while Vance muttered a curse. I stared at my new girlfriend and felt the color drain out of my face. This can’t be happening. Not again. There was no way I was going to allow anything to happen to Jillian. I was still trying to figure out what happened to Samantha. I was not about to add Jillian’s name to the list.

 

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