by Fiona Grace
Ali shuddered under the scrutiny of his glare.
“So you took matters into your own hands?” she asked, an edge of fear in her voice.
Sullivan shifted his weight from one foot to the next, and began nervously fiddling with his bolo tie again, smoothing his hands over and over and over it like some kind of self-soothing gesture. “I’m not proud of what I did. I like to think of myself as a decent man.”
It was all coming together, and suddenly the sight of Sullivan nervously fiddling with his bolo tie sparked a new thought in Ali’s mind.
When Detective Callihan had come to visit her at her home, he’d said the murder weapon was a thin rope. Detective Elton was looking for apron strings. But what if the murder weapon was in fact the bolo tie! The very bolo tie he was wearing!
“Your tie—” she stammered, “—You choked him to death with your bolo tie?”
Sullivan’s gaze snapped back to hers, and his piercing gray eyes bore into her. He opened his mouth to reply, but he didn’t get the chance because a sudden commotion came from the stairwell.
In a cacophony of noise and a flash of sudden, blinding lights, Ali heard bellowing shouts.
“POLICE! HANDS IN THE AIR! NOBODY MOVE!”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Ali’s hands darted above her head. She blinked against the glare of several flashlights as the cops came trooping up from the stairwell. They fanned out across the barren room, keeping their laser focus on Ali and Sullivan, standing side by side with their arms stretched high. Poor Scruff was practically losing his mind, yapping away and growling, springing on his hind legs all over the place.
“Someone get the dog,” a commanding, husky female voice said.
Ali recognized it right away. It was Detective Elton.
As the detective emerged from the stairwell, Ali’s mind started turning over frantically. What must this look like to the detective? She—their prime suspect—was standing shoulder to shoulder with Sullivan Raine—the big man capable of murder—in an empty building on a private building yard, under flashlight! It probably looked as if they were in cahoots. That they’d worked together to eradicate Arlo and were now sharing a clandestine meeting about it!
Her arms above her head began to tremble.
Detective Elton began to advance toward her, her boots thunking on the cement floor as she marched with purpose.
Ali braced herself. Was she about to be arrested?
But to her surprise, Detective Elton went straight to Sullivan.
“Sullivan Raine,” she said, yanking his arms from above his head to behind his back and snapping cuffs round his wrists. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Arlo Hudson.”
“What!” Sullivan cried. “I didn’t kill anyone!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Detective Elton replied. “We’ve been in that stairwell listening. We heard it all, buddy, and we have witnesses saying you were seen in the vicinity of the crime scene the night the murder took place. You’re busted.”
She gave him a shove from behind to get him to start walking, and he staggered a few steps forward.
“This is crazy!” he cried in his thick, Texan accent. “All I did was get him fired! I didn’t kill the kid! I don’t have it in me!”
“Save it for your lawyer,” Detective Elton muttered. She gave him another shove from behind and he put up no resistance. He began walking toward the stairwell, with Detective Elton following behind looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
“Miss Sweet,” she said to Ali as she passed. “You can put your hands down now.”
Ali was so astonished she didn’t immediately react. She’d been certain she was about to get arrested that it was taking her brain a bit of effort to catch up to speed.
But as the female detective marched Sullivan to the stairwell, Ali spotted Detective Callihan. They passed one another with a nod, and Detective Callihan approached Ali. Slowly, she lowered her hands.
“You okay?” Detective Callihan asked as he reached her. “Hurt?”
Ali shook her head. “Surprised, is all. How did you know to come here?”
“Raine’s been on my radar since the get-go,” Detective Callihan said. “And you’ve been on Elton’s. Guess which lead we were pursuing?”
“Hers,” Ali said, simply, recalling how Detective Elton had been just there when she’d left Timothy’s house, and how she’d said she’d be keeping an eye on her. “You were following me.”
“Yes. And look where you led us. Straight to where we needed to be. To the real killer.” He flashed her a look of gratitude. “When Elton overheard your conversation, she realized I’d been right all along. Of course, I would’ve preferred to get more of a solid confession out of him before charging in to arrest him, but I guess Elton was trying to save face.”
“Wow,” Ali said. She studied the detective’s face. “So that’s it? Case closed?”
“Depends on how the interrogation goes,” Detective Callihan said. “But he had the motive, as you well know. The opportunity, since we have witnesses who spotted him in the vicinity. And he had the means.”
“The bolo tie,” Ali offered.
Detective Callihan nodded. “That was the final piece of the puzzle. I think when Elton heard you say that, it all fell into place for her.”
“So what does that mean for me?” Ali asked.
“It means you can come to the station with me, and I’ll sign your phone back out of evidence, personally,” Detective Callihan replied.
Hope lifted Ali’s chest. “And my bakery?”
“I’ll sign over the keys as well,” Detective Callihan said with a nod. “It’s yours again, and you’re free to do with it as you will.”
Ali couldn’t help herself. She was elated. She threw her arms around Callihan’s neck and pecked a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you Sebastian!” she squealed.
“You’re very welcome,” Detective Callihan said, stiffly.
His cheeks had turned a dark shade of crimson.
*
As Ali climbed the steps to Willow Bay’s station, she went over and over the events of the evening. It had been quite dramatic, and her first thought was to tell Teddy about it. But of course, she was mad at her brother. So instead, she thought of Piper, of how wonderful it would be to break the good news to her that the investigation was solved and they’d be back at work again tomorrow.
The glass doors swished open automatically, and Detective Callihan led Ali up to the reception “desk,” which was really more of a room divided by a thick glass safety barrier. Behind it, several uniformed cops were milling around, doing paperwork, typing into computers, filing forms in cabinets.
“Dale?” Detective Callihan said as he reached the desk and drummed his fingers on the counter.
A man turned. “Yes, Detective?” he said, immediately adopting a respectful manner toward his superior.
“Can you fetch Miss Sweet her confiscated property please?”
“Of course,” the cop replied, and he disappeared through a door.
“He won’t be long,” Detective Callihan told Ali. “And I’ll sign it personally.”
“Thanks,” Ali replied She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next. She didn’t really know what to say to the detective. How do you make small talk with a man who questions murderers for a living? You can’t exactly ask about the weather! And the foyer was so empty and quiet, it only heightened how awkward the whole situation was.
Luckily, Ali was saved by the proverbial bell. At that moment, the automatic doors swished open and in came Detective Elton with Sullivan Raine. Sullivan glowered at Ali as Detective Elton marched him up to the desk. Detective Callihan tugged Ali by the arm a little over to the side, so as to keep the distance between them. But it didn’t stop Sullivan glaring daggers at her the whole time Detective Elton had the cops enter the details of his arrest into the system.
Ali gulped. Sullivan was clearly a very dangerous man. One who now had a personal g
rudge against her. She was relieved he was in the right place—jail. Long may he stay there.
Just then, a door opened, and in came Dale the cop, holding a clear plastic bag. Through the plastic, Ali could see her bakery keys and her phone, and her heart soared.
“Detective, are you signing this out?” Dale asked Sebastian.
Detective Callihan nodded. He took the pen and scribbled his name on the form Dale was holding on a clipboard. It was on carbon copy paper. Dale ripped off the top sheet, the yellow one, and handed it to Ali.
“This is your copy, Miss Sweet,” he said. Then he tore open the top of the bag, and took out the phone and keys, handing each one to Ali.
“Thank you!” Ali exclaimed. She turned to Detective Callihan. “I really appreciate you doing this,” she added.
“It’s no problem,” he replied. “Do you need a lift home?”
Ali peered out through the glass doors at the darkening evening. “No, I’m good,” she said. “I like to walk.”
She said goodbye and headed out into the warm evening. She was thrilled to know she’d be able to open the bakery again tomorrow and was eager to get back to work.
She took out her phone to tell Piper the good news. But she couldn’t help but notice the fact there were no messages waiting for her. No apologies from Teddy. Nothing. Ali was deeply disappointed no one in her family had been trying to get in touch with her. She’d been through a huge dramatic ordeal and not a single one of them knew about it.
It bothered her that they were becoming distant like that, and she decided that it was time to take matters into her own hands. Life was too short. She didn’t want to be in conflict with her brother anymore, even if he was in the wrong.
She quickly fired off a text to Teddy before she had a chance to change her mind.
Are you free tomorrow? Can you come by the bakery?
She listened impatiently for a reply. There came a ting, and with a flutter in her breast, Ali checked the incoming message from Teddy. It was a simple, one word answer.
Okay.
It was a start, Ali thought. When tomorrow came, she was going to do everything to get her life back to normal, in all aspects—baking, business, and brother.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
It was a beautiful sunny morning as Ali walked the short distance from her beachfront apartment to her boardwalk bakery. Beside her trotted Scruff, the little stray dog who was becoming something of a companion. In her hand, Ali clutched the key to her bakery.
Callihan had returned it to her last night, along with her phone, and the feel of it in her hand now filled her with hope. Now Sullivan was in custody and her name was cleared, she’d be able to reignite her business.
“Ali!” a bright voice called.
Ali glanced over to see Piper skipping toward her. She was wearing her pale blond hair in a neat French braid, and as she waved her arm in a wide arc above her head, Ali’s attention went to the bright pink yoga mat tucked beneath the other.
“Isn’t it great to be back?” Ali asked, as Piper reached her.
“So great,” Piper said with a grin. “But where’s your mat?”
“I don’t think Delaney’s going to expect us to jump straight back into—”
But her voice cut off as she spotted her tall, slim friend coming elegantly toward them, with her purple mat in her arms.
“—I take it back,” Ali finished.
“Morning ladies,” Delaney trilled as she closed the final space between them. She kissed them both on the cheek in turn, her floral scents wafting into Ali’s nostrils. “I hear you’re no longer a suspect, Ali. Congratulations.”
Ali let out a wry laugh. “Thanks. I guess. Of course, it would’ve been better if I’d not been made a suspect in the first place.”
“Well, that goes without saying,” Delaney replied with a chuckle.
The three women turned to head toward the bakery. Ali was pleased to see the police tape had been completely removed. Everything looked just like it always did, and Ali was hit by that feeling of returning home — comfort, and nostalgia, and a sense of completion.
“But you can’t really fault the cops on this one, can you?” Delaney mused aloud as Ali jimmied the key into the lock. “Arlo was found in your dumpster, after all. It did make you the obvious person to look at.”
“I suppose so,” Ali said, turning the key. “Doesn’t make it any less stressful.“
The lock yielded with a click, and Ali pushed her shoulder into the door. As it swung open, the glorious smell of baked goods wafted out, taking with it all the worries that had plagued her.
“We’re home!” she squeaked. “I’ll get the coffee on!”
Piper grinned. “And I’ll go set up the yoga mats.” She took Delaney’s from her and headed off to the back kitchen. “Time to get limber!”
“Erm, is Scruff allowed in here?” Delaney asked.
Ali turned to see the boardwalk stray had waltzed straight in alongside her. He was now sitting on the peppermint green tiles watching them.
“I guess so,” Ali said, with a smile. “He’s been keeping me company this whole time.” She went behind the counter and over to the machine. “Without Teddy’s support, I really needed it.”
Delaney leaned her arms on the counter. “Are you two still fighting?”
Ali started setting up the coffee machine. “Kinda. I texted him last night and he agreed to come see me today. It seems stupid to drag this fight out.”
“Never let the sun set on an argument,” Delaney replied, wisely. “At least that was my gran’s advice. Solid advice, in my opinion too. Especially after everything that happened with Arlo, it’s important to remember that none of us knows what tomorrow holds.”
“It’s so true,” Ali replied, thoughtfully.
Delaney headed to the kitchen to join Piper, and as the coffee machine began to hiss and steam away, Ali mulled over her comments. Something she’d said had stuck out to her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
But there was no time to think any further, because the bell over the door tinkled. Ali glanced over and saw Teddy come marching in.
For a moment, Ali thought she must be seeing things. It was only seven AM. When she’d texted him about meeting here tomorrow, she’d assumed from his lack-luster response that he wasn’t particularly keen to. But here he was, at her store, well before opening time. Before they’d even had their early morning yoga sessions! Ali couldn’t even guess the last time Teddy had woken up so early. Which could only mean he was furious...
He blustered right up to the counter, stamped his foot, and yelled, “I’m sorry, okay?”
Ali blinked, taken aback by his theatrical outburst. It was such a strange thing to say, she didn’t fully know what to make of it.
“You're sorry?” she asked. “About what?”
“About Dad of course!” Teddy exclaimed. “I should never have kept that information about him from you, and I’m sorry!”
Ali faltered momentarily. “I mean, thanks for saying sorry, obviously. But… why are you yelling?”
“Because it’s hard for me to admit, okay!” Teddy exclaimed. “I’m not usually wrong. In fact, I’d go as far as to say I’m never wrong.” He shuddered. “It feels icky.”
Ali couldn’t help it. She started to chuckle. “You’ll get used to it,” she said, wryly.
Teddy leaned across the counter for her hands. “Can we please just be friends again now?” he said, grabbing them.
“Yes. Please. Let’s be friends again,” Ali replied resolutely. “I can’t stay mad at you. Besides, I think you were right about Dad not wanting to be found. He’s gone out of his way to make it difficult for us. I guess, I just didn’t want to believe it.”
Her voice dropped with sadness, but Teddy squeezed both her hands affectionately and gave her a tender, sympathetic smile.
“I know, Ali-cat,” he said. “I didn’t want to believe it, either. It sucks, but it is what it is.”
“Please!” Teddy exclaimed. “I woke up and drove straight here. I’m gasping.”
Ali chuckled. She turned to make the coffees, and Teddy took a stool at the counter.
“So. Fill me in, sis. What’s been going on here?” he asked.
“Ermm… let’s say it’s a long story,” Ali replied. “Maybe one for another day.” She’d just about had enough of thinking about Arlo’s murder. It had consumed her every waking thought for days, and now the case was solved she very much wanted to put it all behind her.
“Nope. Tell me now,” Teddy demanded. “I want to know everything that happened after you abandoned me at lunch and swirled off with Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome!”
Ali turned and put his coffee in front of him. “You mean Seth?”
“Seth,” Teddy repeated in a dreamy voice. “That's the one.” He sipped his coffee. “Well? You seemed pretty eager back at the café.”
“I was eager to get away from you,” Ali admitted as she poured her own mug and leaned her arms on the counter. She sighed. “I put it on the back burner. I had other things to worry about.”
“Like Nate?” came Piper’s voice.
Ali turned to see her assistant in the kitchen doorway, with a knowing smirk on her lips. She’d been listening in. Ali’s love life was one of her favorite topics, after all.
“No,” Ali replied as Piper trotted behind her and helped herself to a black coffee, while pouring a second to bring to Delaney. “More like Arlo.”
“Oooh!” Teddy exclaimed. “There’s a third guy?”
“No!” Ali exclaimed. Trust Teddy to jump straight to the wrong conclusion! She quickly hastened to put him to rights. “Arlo was a food critic who was killed.”