Tyler made his way through the mall to the nearby parking structure, willing himself to ignore the designer menswear calling to him from the windows of many of his favorite stores. When he reached his car, which was on the top level, he stared at his sleek black Audi A7 for a few moments before he opened the door. He wondered how long it would be before the leasing company came to repossess it.
His payments had bounced for the last three months and the leasing firm was running out of patience, as was his landlord, his accountant, and his lawyer. He’d had to use the last cash he had to pay the web developer company who had redesigned his food blog, Nibbles, after a midnight visit from a man wearing a hoodie and carrying a baseball bat.
“You’re broke,” his accountant had warned him several months earlier. “You’re living the lifestyle of the rich and famous, and you’re neither. Not even close. Your income is dwindling and even on a good month it doesn’t cover your expenses. If things don’t improve, you’re headed for bankruptcy court.”
Tyler hadn’t wanted to believe things were that bad, and he was sure he could turn his business back into the money-making machine it had been in its glory days. At one point, Nibbles was making him so much money it was like owning his very own ATM. He’d go to bed at night and wake up the next day several thousand dollars richer.
That was the beauty of the internet. For no apparent reason, several of the posts on his blog had gone viral and generated millions of page views. With the traffic came pay-per click advertising deals, sponsored posts, and lucrative product endorsements. When he’d gotten bored with his daily work routine of uploading a foodie picture or two onto his blog and pinning them on Pinterest, he paid a college student a few bucks to do it for him instead. That left all of his time pretty much free for shopping, dating, and bragging about his perfect life on social media.
Tyler stared at the Audi’s dashboard, with all its fancy gadgets and extras, before banging his head several times on the steering wheel. The horn sounded, but no one was around to hear it.
Stop this, Tyler, a voice inside his head urged him. This isn’t you. You’re not a quitter.
He sat up and looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Apart from the red splotch on his forehead from hitting it against the steering wheel, he looked like an attractive, successful businessman in his late twenties. His Clark Kent glasses were from Gucci. He wasn’t born with the chiseled features of a male model, but a pleasing appearance, confident manner, and a way of making women laugh ensured that he rarely went home from parties alone. Nice car, nice clothes. I might have a few money problems, but who doesn’t? There must be a solution, he thought.
Until Tyler met Harper, he’d never considered settling down. In his mind’s eye he could see her as he’d left her that morning - barefoot and wearing one of his shirts that swamped her petite frame. Her cherubic curls and adorable smile belied her strong character. Harper was high maintenance and made no apologies for it. Tyler knew if he couldn’t keep her in the style to which she was accustomed, she would find someone else who could. He had to fix this and fix it fast.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contact list until he found the name he was looking for. Taking a slug from the bottle of water that was sitting on the passenger seat, he pressed the green button on his phone, confident of solving his little financial issue before returning home. Facing Harper without the limited-edition iPhone X in his hand was not an option.
“Toni Adams, please,” he said to the receptionist at Food Porn Photography when she answered his call. “It’s Tyler Alexander. Tell her it’s urgent and in her interest that we speak immediately.”
“Just one moment, please,” the receptionist said.
Tyler heard soft floaty music in the background as he waited. And waited. He swore under his breath as he ended the call and pressed redial.
“Apparently,” he shouted into the phone when it was picked up by the same receptionist, “Ms. Adams thinks it’s funny to keep me on hold for over ten minutes. I’d appreciate the courtesy of her speaking with me NOW if she knows what’s good for her. Otherwise, she’ll regret it.”
“Just one moment, please,” the receptionist said.
The same floaty music was audible once again, but this time it was only for a few seconds. A short silence followed, and Tyler could sense the frostiness on the line before Toni addressed him. Her voice was sharp. “I take it this isn’t a friendly call, Tyler, as my receptionist tells me you’ve started throwing threats around. I’ve told you before, I have nothing to say to you. Now that lawyers are involved, I couldn’t speak with you even if I wanted to. Goodbye…”
“Toni, wait,” Tyler pleaded. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t a threat, what I said came out wrong. Please, just let me have a few minutes of your time to talk this through, and I’m sure we can reach an amicable agreement. I never wanted to call the lawyers in, but you left me with no choice.” And a $50,000 legal bill I can’t pay, he thought.
“Hmm. You have a unique way of twisting things around. Tyler, I’ll give you that. As I recall, you never settled the account for the two day shoot I did for your Nibbles blog. Next thing I know, you’re suing me?” Her voice cracked. “I’m still trying to get my head around how you want me to pay you a million dollars when you’re the one who owes me. It was a measly ten grand, Tyler, and now my lawyers’ fees have dwarfed that. Like I told you before, you’re the last person I want to speak to. Please stop these harassing calls, or I will report you to the police for stalking me.”
“Who’s making threats now, huh?” Tyler said, trying to buy enough time to get his point across. “You ruined my business, Toni, with those pathetic shots of a picnic on the beach at Bainbridge Island. No one clicked on the Pinterest graphics, they were a complete disaster. And my regular blog traffic tanked right after I ran the Perfect Picnic series of articles with your images in them. I’ve lost all my advertisers and sponsors as a result. One year’s income. One million dollars. In my lawyer’s opinion, you’re getting off lightly.”
Toni sighed. “You know, your nose must be very long right now, just like Pinocchio’s was. I’m guessing your lawyer said you don’t have a leg to stand on. My photography business has no liability in connection with those photos. That’s covered in a clause in our Standard Terms of Business Contract, which I assume you read before signing it.”
Tyler was glad Toni couldn’t see his face. What she said was true, apart from the part about him reading the contract. He’d signed it blindly, never thinking for a second the investment in professional photos wouldn’t pay off big time and be instrumental in turning Nibbles around. He was certain the amazing images Toni delivered, along with the trendy redesign of the site, were sure to bring Nibbles’ readers back in droves. His gamble had backfired, and his insistence on suing Toni for compensation was against his lawyer’s explicit advice. He was running out of options and decided to give it one last shot.
“You’re bluffing Toni, and we both know it. I’m prepared to make you an offer you can’t refuse. I’ll have my lawsuit dismissed and settle for two hundred fifty thousand. It’s a one-time only opportunity. Ten thousand upfront today seals the deal. If you need to pay me the rest in installments, we can work out a payment plan. How about if I come to your office right now and you write me a check? You can thank me then, huh?” He congratulated himself on his brilliance. A very convincing performance, if I do say so myself, he thought.
Toni had other ideas. He listened in dismay while she first of all laughed, then repeated her promise to report him to the police if he ever contacted her again. Her words drifted in and out of his head as anger washed over him. “I’m leaving on a trip tomorrow,” she was saying, “…. never want to hear from you……see you in court……. leave me in peace.”
The line went dead, and Tyler abruptly returned to his senses. I’ll leave you in peace, alright, and I mean everlasting peace, he seethed, as he began to formulate a plan.
CHAPTER 7
Al nudged a still sleeping Cassie on the shoulder. When she didn’t stir, he shook her a little harder. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
Cassie opened her eyes before blinking, closing them again, and rolling over.
Al stared at his wife and smiled at how peaceful she looked. It was a shame to have to wake her. He yanked the blankets off of her. “I hate to do this sleepyhead, but ya’ gotta get up.”
Cassie groaned. “What time is it?” She eyed the alarm clock on the nightstand before letting out an exasperated squeal. “Al, it’s only 5:30 a.m. Go back to bed.” She looked up to where Al was standing at the side of the bed looking down at her and swiped him away with her arm. “Stop pointing that gun at me. I’ll get up if you promise not to shoot.”
Al leaned over and kissed her, his face serious. “Hurry up. Red’s done and gone missin’. I think he’s been dognapped. I heard a noise, and when I went downstairs, the back door was lyin’ open. No Red. He’s disappeared without a trace.” He waved his hands in the air, swinging the gun around. “Vamoose.”
Cassie pulled herself into an upright position and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like the Red I know. He wouldn’t go anywhere against his will without putting up a fight. Are you sure you didn’t leave the door open last night, and he’s wandered outside? You’ll probably find him sitting on the jetty by the sailboat or in the trees taking care of his morning business.”
Al grunted. “I checked there already. Ima tellin’ ya’, Cassie, I think he’s been clipped. Of course, I locked the door. Whaddya’ take me for? This house is harder to get out of than a high security prison.”
Cassie swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I can just see the headlines now. ‘Canine Escapes from Alcatraz.’ Maybe Red will get a movie deal.”
Al was already heading for the stairs. “That’s if we can find him. C’mon, there’s no time to waste on small talk.” His hulking frame descended the stairs two at a time, and he called out several times for Red, but the house was silent apart from the sound of Cassie complaining about having been dragged out of bed so early.
Cassie followed him downstairs and joined him in the kitchen. She walked over to where Al was sitting at the table with Red’s half-full dog bowl in front of him. His finger was poised, ready to stick in the bowl.
“Al…what are you doing?” She moved the bowl out of his reach. “I’ll make breakfast now. I know you’re upset, but a proper healthy meal will be a lot more nutritious than kibbles.”
When Cassie’s back was turned, Al grabbed the bowl back again. He ran his finger around the rim, before placing the tip of his finger on the edge of his tongue and licking it gingerly.
“Nothin’,” he muttered, before repeating the exercise. He looked up with a grin. Cassie was staring at him with her hands on her hips. “Tastes fine,” he explained. “I can’t detect traces of poison or anything else suspicious. I thought Red mighta been doped, but all I can taste is regular kibbles.”
“Thank goodness for that.” Cassie turned back to finish fixing the coffee. A few moments later she returned to the table with two steaming mugs. Al looked at Cassie, and then over at the open doors onto the patio, where a light drizzle of overnight rain had covered the outdoor furniture with a layer of moisture. Two pairs of rubber Crocs shoes and a pair of pruning shears lay abandoned beside the rosebushes he and Cassie had spent the last few evenings cutting back.
“It’s my fault,” he said, with a gloomy stare into the murky liquid in his mug. “I feel so guilty.”
“Here, don’t forget your vitamins.” Cassie pushed two orange pills towards him, and he gulped them down with a chaser of coffee.
“If I hadn’t made such a fuss over Balto when he was stayin’ with us, Red wouldn’t have felt left out. Now Red’s gone off with some good-fer-nuthin’, and I’ll never get a chance to show him how much I care about him. I’ll never forgive myself.”
Cassie reached over and stroked his hand. “Red’s a clever dog, just like his master. He’s never doubted for a minute how you feel about him, of that I’m sure. He’s just not needy for attention in the same way Balto was. Dogs are a bit like children. You end up focusing your attention on whichever one of them needs the most at the time. It doesn’t mean you love your other children any less.”
“Ssh.” Al placed his finger to his lips and jumped up. He lifted his gun off the table, stepping nearer to the patio doors. The sound of footsteps was audible on the stone patio, and a woman’s voice carried on the breeze. He peeked outside and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of Hillary and Red rounding the side of the house. Hillary was talking animatedly to a contented looking Red, who was prancing alongside her on a leash.
Al lowered his gun as Hillary spotted him.
“Good morning, Al,” she said, entering the kitchen and unclipping the leash from Red’s collar. Red barked at the sight of his dog bowl on the table, and Al hastily returned it to its rightful place by the door.
“Hi Cassie,” Hillary said. “I hope you two don’t mind me taking Red out. I couldn’t sleep, and Red was the only one awake when I came down earlier. We went to the beach, didn’t we, Red?”
Red glanced up momentarily before returning his focus to the kibbles in his dish.
Al beamed. “Ima so happy to see ya’ both. Thought we mighta’ had an intruder who came an’ stole Red away from under our noses.” He pulled out a chair for Hillary. “Sit down and join us.”
“Thanks, Al.” Hillary pulled something from her pocket and set it on the table. “Here’s the key for the patio doors. It was sitting on the counter. I forgot to lock them on my way out, but I figured it’s so quiet around here it would be safe. I hope you weren’t worried.”
“Nah,” Al said with a sideways glance at Cassie, who was smirking by the stove. “No reason to worry at all. How did you enjoy the beach in the dark? I think Red could find his way there blindfolded.”
“I think you’re right.” Hillary chuckled. “We had a little bit of moonlight to help us along. It was so peaceful, just the sound of the water lapping on the shore. I was thinking of Toni, at one with the universe again. She wasn’t religious, but she believed in a higher power. She always described it as a Oneness. At the beach, I kind of understood what she meant.” She tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear, struggling to hold back tears.
Al squeezed her hand wordlessly. They sat like that until Cassie broke the silence.
“Hillary, you’re just in time for breakfast.” Cassie carried another mug of coffee over to their guest. She nodded at the center of the table. “Help yourself to sugar and cream, and I’ll be right back with some bacon and scrambled eggs. Al, you’re on toast duty.”
Al jumped up to his station by the toaster. “Yes, ma’am.”
Over breakfast, the conversation returned to the subject of Toni’s murder. Cassie spoke up. “Hillary, something’s been bothering me that I wanted to run past you. It’s about a man Toni mentioned a couple of times who had been causing her problems. He worked in her office building. I remember being at her office on the island when a janitor kept interrupting our meeting.
“He was rather abrupt, although Toni was very patient with him. She told me he bothered her all day long with petty issues relating to building maintenance which should have been none of her concern. She said she was finding it hard to get any work done with him around.”
Hillary frowned. “Yes, she said something along the same lines to me as well. It was a bit of a running joke between us that Hector, that’s the maintenance man’s name, had a crush on her. In fact, he called her yesterday when she was working at home, and I teased her about it. He’s asked her out a few times and pretty much wouldn’t take no for an answer, even though she told him she was dating someone else.”
Al grabbed the notebook and pen he kept at the side of the table. Hector, he scratched in his spidery hand. “Do we have a last name for this guy?”
Hi
llary shrugged.
“That’s okay, I’ll get Rob on it right away.”
He started to get up, and Cassie pulled him back by the arm. “It’s still early. Finish your breakfast, honey,” she said softly. “Why not wait a while, and call him after 7:00 a.m.?”
Al glanced at the clock, and sheepishly sat down. “Yeah, I guess it can wait until then. I was wonderin’, Hillary, about the man Toni had been seein’, the Jace feller. What do you know about him?”
Hillary thought while she munched on a piece of toast. “His name is
Jace Carson. Like I said last night, they met when Toni shot some pictures for a billboard ad for one of the television shows he produces. He loved the shots she came up with and started using her for other work. Then he asked her out for dinner. I remember Toni telling me she was reluctant to mix business with her personal life, but it was me who advised her to go for it.”
“Why was that?” Al nodded to Cassie, who poured more coffee for him.
“Toni had one failed marriage, when she was very young,” Hillary explained. “After that, she threw herself into work. I think she blamed herself for the marriage breakdown, but in reality, it was one of those things. She was young and foolish, and madly in love. She made a mistake. The marriage never should have happened, but she was headstrong and wouldn’t listen to our mother’s advice to wait. It lasted for a year, although they were on the rocks from right after the honeymoon.”
“I swore I’d never get married,” Al commented. “Until I met this woman here and fell head over heels.” He turned to Cassie. “Sometimes ya’ just gotta go with yer’ heart. Right, sweetheart? And if it don’t work out, Ima gonna bury ya’ under the patio.” He grinned.
“Somehow, the way the two of you are with each other, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Hillary continued with a wistful stare at them. “For years, Toni said she wasn’t looking for love, but I could tell there was something missing in her life. The way she talked about Jace, I urged her to give him a chance. We were going to catch up on everything on our trip to Alaska. I sensed she had some news to tell me.” She sniffed and paused to compose herself.
Murder and Food Porn: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 8) Page 5