Sprinkles of Suspicion

by Kim Davis

  We went out the massive front doors, through the gate, and across the alleyway. Well, Tillie called it an alleyway. I called it a street. Dusk was nearing, and streetlights flickered on. She unlocked a decorative privacy gate adjacent to a garage. Once the gate swung open, we stepped onto a Spanish-tiled courtyard that surrounded an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The pool lights were on, which made the water glow a bright turquoise-blue. White fairy lights twinkled in the trees dotting the area and on the ceiling of an outdoor patio room. Where I thought the garage ended, another L-shaped structure started with several French doors positioned at regular intervals.

  Tillie unlocked a door and motioned me inside. This? This was a pool house? It was almost the size of my condo! The open floor plan showed the pool house was charmingly decorated and furnished in what I would call a French provincial style.

  My mouth must have dropped open again because Tillie tapped my chin.

  “Will this be adequate for you and Piper?”

  I burst into tears. Never in a million years, after all that had happened with Philip, did I dream I would find somewhere I could call home.

  “Oh, dear, is this not to your liking?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean, this is so beautiful, and you’ve been so nice to me. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and find myself in jail or back in the nightmare that my life has become.” Through my tears, I saw Tillie’s concerned face. Piper nudged my hand. “You’re like a fairy god-mother!”

  “Now, now, it’s going to be okay.” She patted Piper, who had thrust her head in between us. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

  After finding tissues for me, she led me around the two-bedroom, two-bath pool house. She showed me the outside bathroom and shower and told me to help myself to the pool towels and enjoy the pool whenever I wanted. Dorie, who I gathered was the housekeeper, would clean the pool house once a week and launder all the linens and towels.

  I was sure I was dreaming when a brand-new town car pulled up and a magazine model-worthy blond man, appearing to be in his forties, introduced himself as Andrew. He wore a black suit and tie and told me he had parked in front and would wait for me until I was ready to go. I pinched myself, and when it hurt, I decided maybe fairy tales did come true.

  Tillie scratched Piper behind the ears. The woman wore a forlorn look on her face. “Would you mind if Piper spent the night with me? She can have Tatum’s bed, or if you prefer her to sleep crated, I have that too.”

  Piper looked at me then placed her head back into Tillie’s hands. I gathered Piper wanted to sleep over too.

  “That’s fine. It will give me a chance to get some packing done.” I brushed hair that the evening breeze had blown onto my face out of my eyes. “Is there a specific day you’d like for me to move in?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okay. I’ll drop by tomorrow morning to pick up Piper and bring you some breakfast. We can talk about timing then.” I was careful to not smoosh Tillie’s broken arm and gave her a hug. “I can’t thank you enough for giving me this chance to start over.”

  “Nonsense. You’re the one who will have to put up with me.” She waved me off before winking. “Go on. Get out of here, or I’ll have to pay Andrew overtime.”

  Tillie’s driver dropped me off, and as he sped into the night, I walked toward my brightly lit condo. I didn’t remember leaving the lights on, but then again, I had hurried to get out the door for the interview. Promptness was important to my mother, and I knew I was rushed to get dressed and apply enough makeup to pacify her. I was placing my purse and keys on the entryway credenza when a shiver ran up my spine. Stan was sitting on my living room sofa, arms crossed, with his flip-flop-shod feet resting on the coffee table.

  Chapter 35

  I wished Piper had come home with me. She would have warned me that an uninvited guest had made themselves at home in my condo.

  “Stan, what a surprise!” Did I forget to lock the door when I left with Mother? “Do you have new information to nail Amy with?”

  Quietly, he sat there, watching me. I walked to the kitchen and got a glass of water. I could still feel the effects of the gimlets a bit. He just stared at me, and I was getting creeped out. “Can I get you anything? Water, soda, coffee?”

  “Naw, I’m good.”

  I guzzled a glass of water then rummaged in one of the packed pantry boxes, looking for something sweet. Nothing inside was edible except sprinkles. Briefly, I wondered if Stan had taken drugs. “I’m going to bake cookies. Would you like chocolate chip or lemon?”

  “Em, we need to talk.” Even though his voice was quiet, it sounded ominous.

  I walked into the living room, and he gestured for me to take a seat. “What’s going on? Am I going to be arrested? Did the detective find something else that incriminates me even more?”

  “Just drop the act, okay?” He ran shaky fingers through his unruly blond hair. “We know you’ve figured it out, so what do you want? Money? A cut of the action? Do you want to take over Tori’s business?”

  Huh? Figured what out? I sat there and mulled over Stan’s questions for a minute. The entire time, he looked at me through cold, reptilian eyes and never said a word. Then the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Stan and Steve lived in luxury while showing a completely different persona to the public. They wanted people to think they were broke, stoner losers, chubby misfits, when, in reality, they were the exact opposite. Tori lived right below them and had more money than she should. The two men almost never socialized, yet Tori seemed to be a part of their inner circle. Steve and Stan claimed to be successful game software developers, but Brad had never heard of them. Randall said Tori had warned a theft ring operator in Florida that an arrest was coming, and when his brother died, she fled here. It all came down to theft and money laundering. How did I not see it before? Because I wanted Philip’s lover to be the killer. I wanted him to suffer, since he’d caused me so much pain.

  “What did I figure out, and why do you think I figured out whatever it is?” I tried to be coy, but my voice quavered.

  “You’re a terrible actress, so don’t even pretend.” Stan pulled a gun from the crack between the sofa’s cushions and pointed it at me. “I asked you what you want.”

  “The truth? Justice? Not going to jail.” When Stan’s hand shook, my voice squeaked. I worried he would accidentally fire that thing. “Can you tell me what happened with Tori?”

  Stan started to sweat. Large drops of perspiration rolled down his forehead and cheeks. Was it stress, or could drugs be causing this behavior? Whatever it was, I was beyond worried he would be careless and the gun would go off. I didn’t want to get shot. I didn’t want to die.

  “Really? No one can be that naïve.” He wiped his forehead with his free hand then laid the gun on the sofa beside him.

  An audible sigh of relief escaped my mouth now that the gun wasn’t pointed my way. However, without an obvious route of escape visible, I didn’t yet see how I would get away. Perhaps if I kept him talking, I could figure out something. “I’m guessing you met Tori in Florida, and she was a front for moving merchandise for either you or your informant. When her fiancé was killed, you moved here and started up your business again.”

  “That’s the gist. Tori’s spa shop was a good cover for laundering the money.” He shook his head. “Stupid girl had to get involved with a cop, especially when she could steal one away from another woman. Said she loved men in uniforms. I think she was just an adrenaline junkie, and they made her feel like she was living life on the edge.”

  “What happened? Why did you kill Tori?” I didn’t want to ask that question, but I needed answers.

  “She skimmed the cash. I’m not sure why, since we’ve always paid her an exorbitant amount. But then again, she was a greedy witch and loved a good thrill. When we confronted Tori, she threatened to blow the whistle on our operation.”

  “But what about the painting I found in my condo? Did she put it there?�
�

  “Yeah, she had a good laugh about that one. She wanted Philip to dump you, but he wouldn’t, so she staged it so he would think you were involved in stealing artwork.”

  “But she set the thing up with Randall first then plastered my picture all over Facebook. Why involve the art theft?”

  “The painting was a backup plan if Philip didn’t care about seeing you with another man. She knew he’d go ballistic if he found out you were involved in something illegal.”

  Apparently, Tori hadn’t bothered to understand Philip. His fragile ego couldn’t and wouldn’t stand for his wife to be in another man’s company, so there was no reason for a backup plan. “Did you know the painting was a forgery?”

  Stan chuckled. “Smart, huh? We were aware she was stealing from us, so we substituted real paintings with forgeries. She never caught on. Although, down the road, when she sold them, she’d have ended up with some very angry clients.”

  “If you knew it was a forgery, why did you break into my home looking for the painting?” I was still upset that my treasured photos had been ripped up.

  “We didn’t break in.”

  “Are you sure? Someone did, and it looked like they were searching for it.”

  “No. It wasn’t us.”

  Perhaps it was Philip after all. I supposed he could have been involved in the art theft to pay for his gambling addiction. Maybe he knew Tori had stashed one of the paintings at our house and wanted it for himself. “So you decided you needed to kill her and tried to frame me?”

  “Yeah. She threatened us and became too much of a liability. You and your catfight over Philip made you the perfect scapegoat.” He picked the gun up again and pointed it at me. “What’s it going to be?”

  I was sure his question was rhetorical, and I had become a liability just like Tori. My mouth turned dry, making it hard for me to swallow. “How much money are you offering to buy my silence?”

  “You’re not an actress. I can read every thought you have on your face.” The hand holding the gun shook again, so he rested the gun on the sofa. “I’ve always liked you, so this isn’t easy for me to do.”

  “Where’s Steve? Why are you here and not your brother?” Not that it mattered which one was here, but I wanted to keep him talking while I figured out how to get away.

  “He blames me for you figuring out our connection to Tori’s death, so I have to clean up my mistake.” Stan rubbed his face with his free hand. “Why did you have to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong? Why couldn’t you leave it alone?”

  Duh, because I didn’t want to go to prison for something I didn’t do.

  He motioned for me to stand up. “Time to go.”

  “Go? Where are we going?”

  “We’ll take a boat ride down toward Mexico. A little chum in the water to call the sharks, and... well, you get the picture.”

  “You won’t get away with this.” I needed to find a way to stall so I could get out of this horrific situation.

  “Of course we will. Once you’re taken care of, we’ll take our boat and head to a new city to set up our operation.” Stan’s laugh was chilling. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had to move because of inconvenient, meddling people. It’s time to go, so stop stalling.”

  This wasn’t good. The Stoner Dudes weren’t on anyone’s radar for being the bad guys. They certainly hadn’t been on my radar. Heck, I’d been giving them an update on everything I had discovered in my investigation. I pushed myself off the chair, my legs weak and my knees wobbly.

  I guess I wasn’t moving fast enough because Stan shoved me forward. “No funny business. Walk straight to my car and keep your mouth shut.”

  When I reached the front door, I was momentarily confused. It was cracked open about four inches. I thought I’d closed it earlier, but perhaps, in the shock of finding Stan here, I hadn’t latched it properly. I pulled the front door open and screamed when Philip appeared right in front of my face. He pushed me to the side, raised his Glock, and pointed it at Stan.

  “Drop your weapon!” Philip yelled in the scariest voice I’d ever heard him use. “Do it now!”

  Stan’s gun shook, but he didn’t lower it.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Philip’s partner, Amy, had her gun drawn, ready to back my husband up.

  “Put the gun down, Stan,” Amy said in a gentle voice, her tone pleading for the man to listen. “It’s not worth it.”

  Stan looked back and forth from Philip to Amy then lowered his gun slightly. Before I barely registered what was happening, he swung the weapon toward me and pulled the trigger.

  The cacophony of simultaneous gunfire rang in my ears, and I scrunched my eyes closed, not wanting to see where I’d been hit. I felt no pain except for a small scratch on my cheek and wondered if I was in shock. The screams coming from Stan’s lips made me drag my attention back to what was happening in front of me.

  Blood oozed from Stan’s shoulder while Amy turned him over and cuffed him. I touched my cheek, and my hand came away with a streak of red. Then my knees gave out, and my head hit the wall. Stars floated in front of my eyes, and I shook my head to clear my vision. Philip squawked into his radio and requested an ambulance. Both Amy and Philip glanced my way then ignored me and took turns applying pressure to Stan’s wound.

  The paramedics were the first to arrive, followed by Detective Jackson and other uniformed officers.

  Detective Jackson bent down next to where I still sat on the floor. “Are you okay, Mrs. Martinez?”

  I nodded, not sure I could trust myself to speak.

  “Do you need medical attention? Did you get injured?”

  “I’m not sure.” I showed him the palm of my hand, where I had wiped my cheek. “Did I get shot?”

  Detective Jackson looked from my cheek to the wall beside my face. He grimaced. “You are one lucky lady. If that bullet had been two inches to the right, we wouldn’t be talking.”

  “Then why am I bleeding?”

  “The drywall splintered when the bullet struck. It scratched your face.” He motioned for a paramedic to assist me. “You won’t even have a scar once it’s healed.”

  My head dipped toward Philip. “Did he hear Stan confess to murdering Tori? Am I cleared?”

  “Both he and Officer Doyle heard every word.”

  I sighed in relief and relaxed against the wall while the paramedic cleaned my scratch and applied ointment. The detective left me sitting there and talked to the crime scene technicians who had arrived. The paramedics loaded Stan onto a gurney and took off.

  “Hey, are you okay?” a familiar voice asked. “That’s only a scratch, right?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I opened my eyes and saw Philip crouched down next to me. “Why were you here? Not that I’m complaining because you saved my life. Thank you.”

  Philip gestured at the scene in front of us. “I came to apologize. This entire mess is all my fault.”

  Philip apologizing? The skepticism must have shown on my face.

  “I’ve started seeing a counselor. It’s one of the things they highly recommend doing.” He ran his hand through his wavy black hair. “Amy is adamant I follow all their suggestions and get my life back on track. Otherwise….”

  I gathered Officer Doyle would make Philip toe the line if he wanted any kind of relationship with her.

  “Were you the one who broke into our house?” I was puzzled because I was sure the culprit was one of the Stoner Dudes, but Stan had denied it.

  Philip blushed. “Uh, yeah. I’m really sorry about that.”

  “But why? Why did you have to rip up my pictures and make such a mess?”

  “You changed the locks.” His voice grew louder, and I could sense his anger. “You had no right to lock me out of my own house.”

  I stared at him, hardly able to believe he would let his rage destroy something that was so precious to me. Amy loudly cleared her throat.

  Philip glanced at Amy and nodded. “Sorry. I�
�ve got some things to work through. I guess I’ll be attending anger management classes too.”

  Even though my heart was heavy, I nodded. “I hope you find whatever happiness you’re looking for.”

  And I meant it. Looking death in the face made me realize I hadn’t been happy with my life or the choices I had been making. I was floating along, letting Philip, my mother, my boss, and even Tori tell me what to do. The upheaval in my life and getting over my heartbreak wouldn’t be easy, but I had new friends and new goals. I was going to succeed my way and find out what I wanted out of life.

  Chapter 36

  Philip called my mother to come pick me up. He didn’t trust me to drive, and for that, I was grateful. She arrived holding hands with Lars, and they both enveloped me in a huge hug. I still didn’t know what was going on with her and David Skyler, but that would wait for another day. For now, I was glad to see her smiling at Lars, and he seemed happy with her.

  My mother insisted I sleep in as late as I wanted. When I mentioned the amount of packing that needed to be completed before the move-out deadline, she told me Lars was paying someone to do it for me. So, I slept in… until six and remembered I was supposed to bring Tillie breakfast and pick Piper up.

  I crept downstairs, intending to make a batch of blueberry muffins before anyone got up. Lars and Mother were in the kitchen already, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. When they saw me, Mother came and gave me a hug.

  “Darling, good news. They caught Steve just as he was leaving the marina for the open sea.”

  Again, I sighed in relief. I had worried he would seek revenge if he remained on the run. Lars turned the newspaper over to hide the front-page headlines, which, I assumed, were all about my misadventure. But I didn’t care anymore.

  “I need to make muffins and take them to Tillie this morning for breakfast.”