Sprinkles of Suspicion

by Kim Davis

  “Emory!”

  I turned around to find a tall, gorgeous man waving me over. His honey-blond hair was a bit wavy. Even from this distance, I could see his eyes were gray and accented his chiseled cheeks and jawline, which had a shadow of a beard growing. A tight T-shirt showed off his impressive pecs. I might have drooled.

  I made a mental note to not call him Bandboy. “Brad! I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  He gave me a long hug, and I remembered too late I hadn’t done my hair or put makeup on and that I was still wearing the same rumpled clothes from yesterday. I hoped I didn’t smell bad.

  “You look great.” He reached down to scratch beneath Piper’s chin. “What would you like to drink? My treat.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Brad waved my comment away. “My pleasure. Besides, I invited you and Piper, so it’s the least I can do.”

  “In that case, I’ll have an iced latte.”

  “I’ll have it right up with a Puppuccino for Piper.” He bent back down and ruffled my dog’s fur. “You two can wait here and hold the table for us.”

  Brad opened the door to the store, and I admired his well-muscled backside. He had opted to wear board shorts with flip-flops, and from appearances, he spent a lot of time in the sun. Unlike me, who was pasty white. I quickly dabbed on lipstick and tried to smooth my unruly hair back in a clip I found lurking in the bottom of my purse. Bandboy was nothing like I had expected, and I wondered why he used his nerdy high school photo as his Facebook profile picture.

  Once Brad returned with our drinks and Piper had inhaled her Puppuccino, we gossiped about other classmates for a while until I couldn’t control my curiosity any longer.

  “What brings you back to our area? It’s been about ten years since I’ve seen you last.”

  “My sister recently had a baby, and my mom isn’t getting any younger, so I thought I’d open another office here.”

  “They have to love seeing you around more.” I wasn’t sure how to be subtle, but then again, Brad hadn’t shared anything on his Facebook page. “So… what kind of business are you in? Your Facebook profile doesn’t give any information about you.”

  “Were you checking me out?” My face warmed, and he laughed.

  “No… okay, yes. I like to keep up with all my friends.”

  “I own a game software-developing company in San Jose. Business is good, and I think now is the time to open another branch down here. I can find employees from new college graduates here in Southern California.”

  I immediately thought of the Stoner Dudes. “Hey, do you know Steve and Stan Miller? I think they develop game software, and from what I can tell, they are pretty successful.”

  Brad scratched his head. “No, I don’t know them. Maybe they freelance develop and sell to the big guys.”

  “What games does your company develop?”

  Brad rattled off several titles, but they meant nothing to me. My unfamiliarity with them didn’t stop me from nodding like I followed what he was saying.

  “I’m dying to know….” I grimaced at my poor choice of words. “I mean, I’m really curious why you use a high school photo and the name Bandboy for your Facebook page.”

  “I had a stalker a few years ago. She was a former employee who thought I should be in love with her.” He ran his manicured fingers through his hair. “I was lucky she physically backed off once I got a restraining order, but she orchestrated a Facebook attack on my account, so I had to close it. I figured this way I could still connect to friends without giving away my identity to anyone looking for me that I’d rather not find me.”

  “That’s scary!”

  “Like I said, it happened a few years ago, and she hasn’t bothered me in over a year. I’m hoping she’s gotten counseling or at least moved on.” Brad paused for a moment and took a sip of his coffee. “It looks like you’re having some excitement in your life right now.”

  Oh boy. Here came the conversation I didn’t want to have. “I wouldn’t really call it excitement. ‘Terrifying’ might be a better word.”

  “I didn’t mean to make light of your situation. Are you doing okay?”

  Gee, how did you answer that question to someone you hadn’t seen in ten years? They probably wanted to hear you were managing, but that wasn’t an honest answer. On the other hand, it would take an hour to tell the truth. “Um, I’m hanging in there, but it’s been a rough few days.”

  “I’m sure that’s an understatement.” Brad snorted out a laugh. “I always wondered why you married that cheating, no-good son of a gun. I knew he would break your heart.”

  “Wait. What? How did you hear about Philip and Tori?” My hands got clammy. “It’s not something I’ve told anyone but my family.”

  Brad snorted again. “Em, you are so naïve. Just about anyone who knows you was aware your husband has had some side action going on for years. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of his former girlfriends did Tori in. She lasted longer than most.”

  My head swam, and I saw stars. Tori wasn’t the first? And everyone else knew about it? That cheating son of a gun was right!

  Chapter 24

  “Are you okay?” Brad touched my cold hand. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I had no idea.”

  “We all figured you had an open marriage.”

  “Ewwww…. Nope. No way!”

  “Then what about that Facebook photo of you and that other guy partying it up?”

  “First of all, Tori drugged me. Second, she Photoshopped that compromising photo.” My face flamed, and my blood pressure skyrocketed. “She was doing everything possible to get my husband to divorce me.”

  “Seems like she was doing you a favor.”

  “Now that I know the real Philip, I have to agree with you. But in the meantime, someone is trying to frame me for her murder.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to kill her.” Brad peered closely at my face.

  “I would never do something like that.” I shook my head so hard I felt a muscle twinge in my neck. “If anything, I was angry at my husband.”

  Brad practically guffawed. “That’s not what I heard! Rumor has it you were in a major catfight with an almost-naked Tori.”

  “What?” I screeched. Several people looked over to our table.

  Piper nuzzled my hand.

  “Where are you getting these rumors from? I mean, who is spreading these rumors?”

  “You didn’t get into a catfight with Tori?”

  I huffed, and my body deflated into the chair. “I did, but she deserved it. How does everyone in the universe know about my sordid life? Seriously, who is your source?”

  It was Brad’s turn to shake his head. “Nope. No can tell.”

  I knew that would be his answer, so I didn’t press the issue. Despite my pitiful life being fodder for the rumor mill, Brad had given me a clue to who else might have wanted Tori dead. Maybe one of Philip’s other flings killed Tori and tried to frame me.

  I needed to talk to his partner, Amy Doyle. I remembered the way she looked at Philip when she found out about his affair. She appeared crushed, but perhaps she had been faking it, trying to cover her anger. I remembered the way she glared at Tori during the barbecue Philip and I held earlier this summer. It was the same way she glared at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Amy also had plenty of opportunities to steal my cake knife during the party or any of the other times she visited my home. She might have hoped Philip would get back together with her with Tori dead and me spending the rest of my life in prison.

  “Earth to Em.” Brad touched my hand again. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I hope so.” I took a sip of my latte. “You gave me a lot to think about, like who else might have framed me for Tori’s murder. I need to talk to Amy, Philip’s partner, before I make any accusations.”

  “Whoa! Don’t be putting yourself at risk. Tell the police and let th
em handle it.”

  Yeah right, like Detective Jackson would actually consider one of his own was a murderer. Nope, I was his number-one suspect, and I was sure he was doing everything possible to prove my guilt. It was up to me to prove my innocence by finding the murderer.

  “The police aren’t looking at anyone other than me. I’ve given the detective means, motive, and opportunity.” I quickly told Brad why I thought Amy was a good suspect.

  “You don’t need to do anything dangerous. Let the police do their job. It’ll work out eventually.”

  “I don’t have the time to wait for them to do their job when they only want to focus on me. I’ll talk to Amy at her place of employment with lots of people around. That will be safe enough.” I didn’t want to give Brad too much information. For all I knew, he would repeat our entire conversation back into the rumor mill. Plus, he seemed awfully connected to what was happening in my life. Was he somehow involved in Tori’s murder and wanted to make sure he wasn’t a suspect? Nah. Now I was imagining things.

  “You really need to let the police handle it and stop thinking you can be an amateur sleuth.” His phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen. “I hate to run, but my real estate agent finally got an appointment for the building I want to lease.”

  “That’s okay. I have things I need to get busy with too.” Like pack my house. “Thanks for the coffee and Puppuccino.”

  “My pleasure. Since I’ll be in town more often with my expansion, maybe we can have dinner next week?”

  “Sure. That sounds nice.” That is if I wasn’t in jail already.

  Once Piper and I made it home, I unloaded and reconstructed the boxes my mother had sent with me. While mindlessly taping boxes together, I thought about Brad and his offer for dinner. While he was gorgeous, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea that I was looking for another relationship. I was done with men for a long time. I hoped I wouldn’t end up hurting his feelings, since he was a nice guy. Well, at least he was a nice guy in high school, and we’d had a lot of fun in band together. Memories came flooding back, and I realized I had forgotten how much the two of us had bonded. With our emotional connection back then over being abandoned by our fathers, we had shared a lot of our innermost fears and feelings with each other. I berated myself for letting our friendship wither away after high school.

  Not feeling like packing, I called my sister to check on the upcoming catering events that she needed help with. The call went straight to voice mail, but almost immediately I received a text from her stating she was at the doctor’s office for a check-up. After that, she had party duty at the twins’ preschool, so she would call me later.

  I glanced at the clock and wondered if Philip was still on desk duty and if Amy worked another shift. Or perhaps another officer had been assigned graveyard duty with her. If I trolled the streets around the precinct at the beginning or at the end of every shift, I might find a chance to talk to her. I doubted Philip would do me the courtesy of giving me her personal phone number. There were still a couple hours before the morning shift ended and the swing shift started, which gave me plenty of time to shower, do something with my hair, and perhaps pack a couple of boxes.

  However, I really needed to talk to Steve and Stan again and tell them what I had found out. They might be able to give me some background on Amy. I wondered if they might have noticed her around Tori’s house before. Packing procrastination was a wonderful motivator to take another drive and investigate.

  I climbed the rickety stairs once again. The door opened before my fisted hand had a chance to knock.

  “Hey, dudette, whatcha doin’ back at the scene of the crime?” Stan looked frumpy and hungover.

  “I know your secret, Stan. You can stop playacting.” I laughed but then paused when Stan’s eyes suddenly looked cold, almost reptilian. “I mean the secret where you want everyone to think you and your brother are partiers? And stoned most of the time.”

  Stan laughed, and the feeling he was hiding something other than his wealth passed.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered with an exaggerated slur and waved me in. “Me ‘n’ Steve are the ultimate party boys. We try to live up to your and Tori’s nickname for us, ‘Stoner Dudes.’”

  Uh-oh. “How did you… oh never mind. I’m really sorry about that. Tori was a bad influence. It was just easier to go along with her.”

  This wasn’t going like I had planned, and I was getting a little uncomfortable. “Is Steve around?”

  “Nope. He’s out scoring more weed.” Stan had plopped on the sofa and was now watching me from half-closed eyes.

  I got the feeling I was a mouse and he was the cat. “I wanted to give you both an update on what I’ve found out in my investigation and see if you know anything about Amy Doyle. Philip’s graveyard partner.”

  Stan leaned forward and motioned me to sit down. “She’s petite and has short brown hair?”

  I nodded. “Yes, that sounds like her.”

  “She drove down this street several times a week and always slowed down right in front of Tori’s apartment.”

  “Do you think she might have been stalking Tori?”

  “Sounds like it. Do you think she’s the killer?”

  “If looks could kill, Tori would have been dead at the last couple of barbecues we had when Amy attended. I’d be dead too.” I shivered.

  “Let me guess. She had an affair with your darling husband?”

  “I’m pretty sure. I wanted to see if you had heard anything about her and if you can find her address for me.” It would be much easier to confront her at her home, where I wouldn’t be surrounded by a dozen uniformed cops who all wanted to arrest me.

  “You don’t want much, do you?” Stan flicked imaginary dust off his colorful board shorts. “We’re gamers, not hackers. People in law enforcement are harder to find because of the layers of privacy. Plus, I don’t want to be caught messing with something like that. Go ask Philip.”

  I tried giving him my sad-dog face. My lower lip came out, and I hung my head and opened my eyes wide. My ploy worked.

  “Fine. I’ll see what we can do, but don’t get your hopes up.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You should just follow Philip when he gets off work. Chances are he shacked up with her after you kicked him out.”

  Technically, I didn’t kick Philip out. Truth was, he packed up his things and left after seeing the horrible fake photo of me with Randall. At least I came to my senses and changed the locks not long after that. However, I was fine letting Stan think I had been the one to end things. His suggestion wasn’t a bad idea, either, although that snake would probably spot my car a mile away. “Okay. I’ll try to find her that way first, but if it doesn’t work, I’ll let you search for me.”

  Stan checked his watch. “I hate to run you off, but I have an appointment I need to get to.”

  “Sure, no problem.” I headed to the door. “Thanks for your help.”

  The door closed quickly behind me as I stepped over the threshold. Had I been dawdling, the door would have slammed into my behind. I sensed something was going on with Stan, and it wasn’t a good something. Still, he had given me a decent idea of how to track down Amy without confronting her at the police station.

  Chapter 25

  I parked across the street from the station, where I had a fairly good view of the gated parking lot the officers used for their personal vehicles while on duty. I didn’t want to broil in my car, but since I needed to conserve gas, I rolled down the windows and turned off the engine. Even though only a little while passed before Amy walked down the steps and got into a parked white sedan, I felt sticky, and perspiration rolled down my back.

  I glanced at my watch and saw the shift wasn’t ending yet, and she wasn’t in uniform. Perhaps it was her day off, or maybe she had visited Philip. Grateful to start my car and crank the air-conditioning up, I made sure all the vents pointed directly toward me. I impatiently waited for the
electric gate to open and then waited an additional few seconds. Finally, I pulled my car out of the parking space and followed her.

  Amy drove a new Toyota sedan that still had the paper tags on it. My Honda was already fifteen years old, and I experienced a twinge of jealousy, realizing it might be decades before I could afford a new car. I shoved my feelings aside and focused on following Amy but not so closely she would notice. She stayed on busy streets, and I felt lucky the red-light-green-light god smiled on me so I wouldn’t lose her.

  About fifteen minutes into my surveillance, Amy finally pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. This situation was even better than confronting her at home, since there were people around. It felt safer, somehow, so I pulled into the empty parking space across the aisle from her. I waited while she collected her reusable shopping bags then opened my door as soon as she locked her car. For a cop, Amy wasn’t at all observant about her surroundings. I was three steps behind her, and she never turned to see who was there.

  “Amy, can I talk to you a minute?”

  She startled at the sound of my voice.

  She turned around with a pleasant look on her face then immediately scowled when she saw it was me.

  “I only need a minute of your time.” I was lying. I had a lot of questions that would take time to answer, but I wasn’t sure she would accommodate me.

  “What do you want?” she hissed at me. “Are you following me?”

  Yeah, I was, but I would never admit it. “No. I wouldn’t do something like that. But I really need to ask you a question.”

  Amy huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”

  Now I had her attention, I panicked. None of my questions were happy, good-vibes, “how ya doin’” questions. Nope. The questions were accusatory, and I would make her mad. “Um, were you or are you having an affair with Philip?”

  “How dare you ask me that.” Her face turned beet red, and her eyes narrowed into little slits. “I don’t need to listen to that kind of crap from you.”