Sprinkles of Suspicion

by Kim Davis

  She was seconds away from either stomping off or maybe smacking me. I reached out and laid my hand gently on her arm. “I’m not blaming you, and at this point, I don’t even care if you are or aren’t. Someone tried to frame me for Tori’s murder, and I need to find out why.”

  If Amy was mad before, she was furious now. She jerked her arm away from me. “Now you’re trying to find out if I killed the tramp? You’ve got a lot of nerve, Emory. You’re lucky I don’t sue you for slander.”

  This wasn’t going well. Granted, I didn’t expect a heart-to-heart chat, but I was getting nowhere, except for pissing off a very dangerous woman who carried a gun. I raised my hands in a position of prayer and supplication. “I’m not accusing you of anything. You spend a lot of time with Philip at work. I’m trying to find out if he mentioned other women who might have wanted both Tori and me out of the picture. Please, I’m desperate.”

  Amy exhaled a long sigh and looked around the parking lot. “Sure, there were a lot of other women. He never mentioned names, though, and none ever came around when I worked with him… except for Tori.”

  Well, this wasn’t helpful. “He mentioned no one in particular?”

  “I can’t believe you’re really that clueless, Mrs. Martinez.” Amy stuffed her reusable shopping totes into her purse and turned back toward her car. “I’m done with this conversation. If you ever approach me again, I’ll slap a restraining order on you faster than you can spell it.”

  I waited until Amy had peeled out of the parking lot, disregarding the speed bumps and stop signs as she did so. I thought it was interesting she didn’t deny having an affair or deny killing Tori. Instead, she did everything she could to intimidate me. I wondered if Steve or Stan could find out any background information on this cagey policewoman.

  Before I reached my car to head home, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway. As soon as I heard the voice, I wished I had ignored the call.

  Detective Jackson, parked in front of my house with a search warrant in hand, wanted to know whether he should break down the door or if I would unlock it for him. Since I had just spent too much money changing the door locks already, I asked him to have patience and said I would be there in ten minutes or less. I hurriedly sent my attorney a text and then crossed my fingers, hoping to hit green lights all the way home.

  His unmarked sedan blocked my driveway, so I had to parallel park down the block. It usually took me three and often four tries to fit my car into a space, but this time I left the back end of my car hanging way out in the street. I hoped no one would hit it, but at this point, I had more important things on my mind.

  My hands shook as I fumbled with the house key, trying to unlock the front door. Detective Jackson grunted a brief greeting, shoved the warrant into my hands, and started breathing down my neck. Was he worried I would try to hide evidence in the nanosecond I had before he entered my house? After I dropped the key and tried to pick it up from the floor, he rushed by me.

  Piper whined, and I apologized to her for making her spend extra time in the crate. I grabbed her leash and clipped it on before she could morph into attack mode. The last thing I needed was for her to get aggressive with the detective. She’d never bitten or even snapped at anyone, but she certainly sounded like she was going to. I walked Piper to the sliding glass door and let her out into the small space. After I removed her leash and told her to be good, I stomped back inside to make sure the detective wouldn’t have a chance to plant evidence.

  He removed the drawers in my dresser, inspected the inside edges and inside the shell of the dresser, then slammed them shut. I felt violated… and angry.

  “You don’t have to stay here and watch me.” His gruff voice matched the scowl on his face.

  “Yes, I do.” I glared back at him. My voice rose louder than I had intended, and I refused to be intimidated any longer. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. You have to realize I’m innocent, yet here you are again, harassing me.”

  “I’m not harassing you.” He pulled another drawer from my bedside table. “If you have nothing to hide, this shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Not a problem?” I crossed my arms tight against my chest. “You’re invading my privacy, even though I’m innocent!”

  The detective didn’t respond. He kept his back to me. I bit my lower lip, trying to calm my racing heart. It was thudding so hard in my chest I was sure he heard it clear across the room. I was innocent, but what if someone planted more stolen artwork? I couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

  “Did you get the results back on the painting you found yesterday?”

  “You know exactly what it is,” he answered, his voice sharp.

  “Um, no, I don’t know what it is, since it’s not mine.”

  “Here’s the thing, Mrs. Martinez. The only reason I haven’t arrested you yet is because that painting is a bad forgery of artwork that was stolen a couple months ago.” He stood and did his best to look imposing. “You’re hiding something, and I will find it. I’m not going to let you get away with murder and theft.”

  My eyes might have bugged out. I saw stars and began to worry, and then my head spun. Passing out in front of this arrogant detective would be mortifying, so I took a deep breath. I suspected he had already convicted me in his mind from day one, but I had erroneously hoped he would have an open mind to investigate other people. With a sigh of relief that the painting was a forgery, I exhaled the breath I had been holding. It was one less problem to worry about—except why had a forgery been hidden in my jewelry box?

  “Here’s the thing, Detective Jackson. You won’t find anything because one, I’m not a killer and two, I’ve never had anything to do with anything illegal in my entire life.” My eye twitched, but I needed to shove his accusations back at him. “Can you possibly entertain the idea for just a moment that someone is trying to frame me?”

  He narrowed his eyes and gave a small shake of his head before sifting through the piles of clothes I had shoved onto the closet floor. When he pawed through my panties, my ears felt like they were on fire. I twirled the ends of my hair around my index finger and examined my shoes, but I wouldn’t leave the room. At least the detective kept his head down and didn’t make eye contact or say anything. He seemed just as embarrassed as I felt.

  “Hello!” Mel hollered from the front door I had forgotten to lock.

  “Come in. We’re in my bedroom.” I didn’t want to take my eyes off the man digging through my belongings.

  “Do you have the warrant?” Mel asked.

  I hadn’t heard the large man sneak up behind me, so I jumped. “It’s on the kitchen counter.”

  He grunted and left to find the paper. When he returned, Mel patted my arm. “Has our good detective found anything yet?”

  “Nope and unless someone planted something incriminating, he won’t.” Part of me knew my attorney wouldn’t have wanted me to ask the detective about the artwork, but since I had, I thought I’d better tell him the results. “An interesting result showed up when the painting was examined by experts.”

  “And how do you happen to know this?”

  I wanted to talk to my attorney in private, but I didn’t dare turn my back on the detective. He might be so desperate he would fabricate evidence and arrest me. “Detective Jackson gave me the information when I asked.”

  Mel’s ears turned red, but I had to hand it to him for not bawling me out. “And what did you find out?”

  “It’s a forgery. A bad one at that.”

  “What? That’s it?”

  “Yep.” The big question of the day was why someone would put a forgery in my jewelry box then come back and tear my room apart looking for it. Even though I dreaded the thought, it was time to talk with Philip and find out what kind of mess he had gotten himself into.

  It didn’t take long for the detective to search through the rest of my bedroom and bathroom. Philip had taken most of his belongings, which cut do
wn on the number of things he needed to paw through, and I wasn’t much of a packrat. The kitchen, however, was a different story. I’d collected various flours, more decorative sprinkles than I could ever use, and all kinds of pans in numerous shapes and sizes. I had packed every square inch of space in my cabinets and small walk-in pantry with baking items.

  When he opened the cabinet holding the containers of eight different flours and five different sugars, I thought I heard him cursing under his breath.

  “Can you please be careful to not cross-contaminate the flours? There are a couple gluten-free blends that have to remain that way.” The sealed containers were clearly marked and stored on different shelves, but I didn’t want to risk the expense of having to replace supplies.

  I watched as he examined each container. All the while, I was ready to jump in and make sure he contaminated none of my flour blends. “Thanks for being careful with the gluten-free ingredients. Most people don’t realize how devastating a tiny particle of gluten can be for some people.”

  “No problem. My son is celiac, so I understand the risks.”

  Wow, the man might be human after all. “How old is your son?”

  “Ten.”

  “That’s such a fun age. What’s his name?”

  “Adam.”

  The detective might have been only answering with only one word, but at least he was talking to me. “Does Adam have any other siblings?”

  “No.”

  This conversation reminded me of playing Twenty Questions. I glanced at his left ring finger and saw a tan line. Perhaps he was recently divorced, which was why he acted so cranky. I wasn’t usually nosy, and I was definitely not pushy, but this man had been making my life miserable. It gave me a little pleasure to invade his privacy like he had mine.

  “Sorry about your divorce.”

  “What?” When Detective Jackson turned to stare at me, his emotional pain was evident. “How did you find out?”

  I tapped my bare ring finger. The absence of the gold band that used to encircle it felt odd. “Your tan line.”

  He shook his head and turned back to continue the search of my cupboards.

  “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. Especially for your son. It must be hard on him.” I remembered all too well when my dad left.

  “I think I’m done here for now, Mrs. Martinez.” The detective washed his hands and ignored my attempt at sympathy. “Can you think of anyone who might try to pin the murder on you?”

  “No. Well… maybe.” I exchanged a glance with Mel, who was uncharacteristically calm. Maybe he had given up on trying to rein in my nosiness. “I’m finding out that Philip was a player, and perhaps one of his girlfriends wanted me out of the picture. What better way than to kill the current girlfriend and frame the wife?”

  “If that’s the case, you’re lucky they didn’t kill the wife and frame the girlfriend.”

  Chapter 26

  I gulped. That possibility had never entered my mind.

  “Do you have names of other potential girlfriends?” The detective pulled his notebook from his pocket.

  “I don’t have proof, but Philip might be involved with his partner, Amy Doyle.” If she hated me before, she would really want to murder me after this. However, had she been honest with me when I questioned her, I wouldn’t have said anything to Detective Jackson. I almost chuckled. Who was I kidding? Of course I would have told him, especially if she admitted to having an affair.

  The detective scribbled in his notebook while my attorney glared at me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and shrugged.

  “I’ll let myself out.” Detective Jackson slid the notebook back into his pocket.

  He left without saying he would talk to Amy and didn’t even say goodbye. And here I thought we were finally bonding.

  “You realize you made a mortal enemy, if not two, by throwing Officer Doyle under the bus.”

  “Yeah, I figured it might happen. But someone tried to frame me, and she wouldn’t answer my questions about her relationship with Philip. You should see her mooning over him!”

  Mel’s eyes bugged out, and his face turned even redder than usual, which wasn’t an attractive look on his puffy face. “You talked to Ms. Doyle? Do you realize if she is the murderer, your life is in danger? I won’t even get into the legal ramifications your actions could have.”

  Apparently, my attorney wasn’t quite as resigned about my involvement in the investigation as I had hoped. “I had to do something, since Detective Jackson is so focused on me.”

  “No, you don’t have to do anything. Your job is to trust the process and let law enforcement and the court system clear your name.” He rubbed his hand over his whisker-stubbled cheek. “Just give it time.”

  Time wasn’t something I had a lot of. No one would hire me with this murder case hanging over my head. Creditors were breathing down my neck. My mother was mortified. And I was losing my home.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? Don’t get involved.”

  “You’re right.” I couldn’t say I wouldn’t keep asking questions, but I knew to let my attorney think I was going to stop.

  “Call me if Detective Jackson comes back and be careful. No more talking to potential murderers or even witnesses.” The large man lumbered toward my front door. “You’re making my job a lot harder than it needs to be.”

  As soon as Mel drove away, I brought Piper back into the house and called Philip.

  My soon-to-be-ex answered on the first ring. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “I have nothing to say. Papers will be served to you tomorrow.”

  “What? What papers?”

  “Divorce papers.”

  A month ago, that statement would have devastated me. Today I was relieved I’d be free from this snake. Eventually I would grieve over what my marriage could have been and angry over what it had become. I had once loved this man enough to take his last name, but now it was time for the relationship to end.

  “Em, are you still there?”

  “Sorry. It’s just a lot to process right now.” It wasn’t a good idea to tell him how I really felt right now, so I softened my voice. “But we still need to talk. In person. Please?”

  “I don’t think we should.” Philip was silent for a moment. “It would probably be better if we met with our attorneys present.”

  “This has nothing to do with our marriage ending. I’m in serious trouble, even though I’m innocent.” Laying on the damsel-in-distress act might appeal to his macho self. “Maybe you can make sense of what’s going on, since everyone seems to think I killed Tori.”

  I heard him sigh. “Okay. I’m busy until after seven tonight. I can drop by after that.”

  “How about we meet at the Costa Mesa dog park? Piper’s been cooped up a lot lately and needs to burn some energy off.” Besides, I didn’t want to be alone with Philip. He might be the killer. Even if he wasn’t, I was sure Tori’s death was tied to him somehow. Plus, in the past, Philip had been able to charm me no matter how angry I had been. I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to get me to fall for his moves again.

  “That works. I’ll be there a little after seven.”

  Piper was in doggie heaven, running her heart out with the other half dozen dogs at the park. I laughed at her puppy antics and felt my spirits rise… until Philip came into view. He looked like he had lost weight. His face was haggard, and it appeared he wasn’t sleeping well. His T-shirt and jeans looked rumpled and dingy, like he had slept in them for several days. For some reason, that gave me a small degree of satisfaction.

  When Piper saw Philip, she barreled toward him for a few seconds, but then a black poodle distracted her. Guess she didn’t miss him much either. I had placed two of the cheap plastic chairs in a far corner of the dog park so we could talk without anyone listening in.

  Philip nodded at me and sat precariously on the cracked chair. “What’s so important that you couldn�
�t talk about on the phone?”

  “I thought you might like to see Piper. She misses you.” Not really, but I wanted to soften him up.

  “Yeah, that’s obvious.” His gaze followed our dog as she romped with an Australian Shepherd and then stopped to roll in the grass. “You look good, by the way.”

  “Uh, thanks.” I self-consciously smoothed down my hair, which blew in the gentle breeze. “It’s no secret everyone thinks I killed Tori, but you have to recognize I’m innocent.”

  He grunted but didn’t agree I was innocent. That worried me, but I pushed on. “Someone broke into our condo and ransacked it. When Detective Jackson searched the condo, he found a painting which was supposedly stolen. I’m sure that’s what the intruder was after. Plus, there are all the loans you’ve taken out and the fact we’re flat broke. What kind of trouble are you in, Philip?”

  “What do you care?” He bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face with both palms. “You’re probably happy I’m on my way to crashing and burning.”

  “Not at all.” I tentatively placed a hand on his arm and felt him trembling. “Are you involved in the thefts? Do you need legal advice?”

  Philip took a ragged inhalation of breath then straightened up and brushed off my hand. “I’m fine. I’m sure you’d like nothing more than to watch me lose my job and my friends.”

  “That’s not it at all!” I was afraid he’d try the macho, I’m-so-tough line. After seven years of marriage, I guessed I knew him. “Somehow, I think this is all tied in to what happened to Tori, and I’m trying to figure it out. Preferably before I get sent to prison for something I didn’t do.”

  “Let the detectives do their job, Em, and leave me out of it.” Philip stood and watched Piper. “I guess the dog is yours. She doesn’t care about me either.”

  He walked away from me and toward the opening.

  “Wait, I need answers!” I yelled at him, not caring who overheard me. “I need to understand what’s going on.”

  My soon-to-be-ex didn’t stop and instead picked up his pace. I wondered what he was up to, and I was determined to find out. I whistled for Piper, and for once, she instantly came to me. After her leash was clipped on, we headed to my car. I wanted to find out where Philip was staying and what he was doing.