1 Death by Chocolate (8 page)

He really seemed to be enjoying the fact that I had been arrested, but why would he care that much about having me convicted?  His whole demeanor made me mad and I fought with myself to keep my temper.

David noticed and spoke up, “Hey, why don’t you get her a sandwich anyway.  I’ll bring her downstairs.”

Lynch looked at David and then at me and made a “humph” sound as he left the room.  He knew there was something between us.

“Thanks, but are you sure you want to be associated with me right now?”

David shrugged and gestured to the door. “Too late now to worry about it. Look Green Eyes, I meant what I said.  It will all work out and I’ll be waiting for you when it does.”

He took my elbow as we left the room and I could feel gooseflesh rise on my arm as we walked down the stairs and past the uniformed officer stationed at a desk near the two cells.

“Number one,” David said to the officer and then we heard a click.

The cell we stopped in front of was a square box with a tiny window way too high and small to look out or to get to and it had a bench built into the wall, a small sink and toilet and that was it.  The door had a window in the upper part. It wasn’t quite the barred and dank cell I’d been envisioning, but it was far from inviting.

I stepped into the cell and turned to face David as he held the door. 

We just looked at each other for a second and in that moment, I felt closer to him than I had to anyone.  I just wanted him to hold me for a while. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, his radio beeped.

“Yah,” he said pressing a button on it.

“Got a hit on your guy, bringing him in now.”

“Right,” he said and then as he closed the door, he said, “See, things are already looking up.  We found, Willie.” He winked and left me alone again.  I felt certain that I’d never felt so alone in my whole life.

I didn’t sleep at all on the hard bench and so when morning came, I felt stiff and tired in addition to the panic that seemed to have settled in the pit of my stomach. Between the lack of sleep, the worry and little food from yesterday, when an officer came in with some runny eggs and burnt toast, I nearly threw up.  I did drink the really strong coffee though, and splashed water on my face.  I had to find a way to clear myself.  I thought as I held onto the sides of the stainless steel basin. I hoped Lizzie would be at the arraignment.  I wondered if David would be.

I also wondered if Brian Cahill could get me bail.  Although it seemed unlikely in a murder case, I liked thinking about the possibility. I sat back down on the bench and hugged my knees.

Then I heard noise from the hall and the door clicked.  It was time to go.  My legs wobbled as I got up from the bench and went to the door.

“Morning, Green Eyes.”

“Hi,” I said not nearly as cheerful.

“Don’t look so glum, you are getting out of here.”

“What?”  I leaned against the door.  The relief that flooded my body made me off-balance.

“Myra Bailey, I need to tell you that you are being released for now, however, you are not to leave the area since you are still considered a person of interest in the ongoing investigation of the Barbara Simpson’s murder.”

“I can leave?”

“Unless you want to stay for some unknown reason, yes.”

“What’s going on?” I said slowly forming thoughts again.

“We’re talking with someone else who may have information that is pertinent to the case and so in the interest of making the right arrest, we are not proceeding until there is a bit more investigation.” He looked intently at me.

“I can leave!” Now I felt new life kick in and I kissed him without even really thinking about it. “Thank you!”

He laughed. “So that means you are happy about this turn of event?”

“Thank you,” I repeated.

He smiled.

“I hate to rain on your parade, but this is only buying some time for you.  You might still not be out of the woods, yet.”

I took a deep breath.  “Who are you questioning?”

The uniformed officer trying to not be intrusive shuffled some papers.

David looked at me and then down at his sleeve.  He tugged it and said, “I can’t tell you anything about the investigation.”

I mouthed the word, “Willie.”

He shook his head and then led me to the desk to sign for my belongings to leave.

A few minutes later, I walked down the dozen steps of the Police Station and headed for home.  I turned on my phone while I walked. I really wanted to talk to Lizzie.

“Hi, it’s me. Call me when you get this,” I said to her voicemail and then swiped to send her a text.  Going home, I typed and sped up the pace.

As I got nearer to my house, I felt amazingly tired and I desperately wanted a shower to wash off the jail experience.

Just as I fished the key out of my pocket to unlock the door, my phone rang.

“Are you still at the Police Station? Are you okay? Are you under arrest? How long can you talk?  Did Hunky help get you…”

“I’m okay and I just got home,” I cut her off.  “They let me out because they are talking to Willie.  Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there in ten,” she said and the call ended.

I walked through the house not really paying attention to much of anything, but feeling like the surroundings were a little unfamiliar.  I went into the bathroom and turned on the water to get it nice and hot.  I dropped my clothes into the hamper and stepped into a gloriously hot shower.  I washed my hair twice and just stood letting the water hit my body for several minutes. The banging on the bathroom door startled me. 

“MB, don’t drown in there.” Called Lizzie.

“Be out in a minute.”

I shut off the water, dried and grabbed my robe.

“So what’s going on?” Lizzie said as soon as I got to the kitchen.

“I got arrested, but they never brought me to be arraigned because they apparently have Willie in custody and are questioning him.”

“Weird.  Willie doesn’t seem like he’d be able to kill someone.” Lizzie said. “But its good news for you, though!” She opened the freezer, frowned.  “I forgot that you had no chocolate.”

I sat on one of the stools and thought about Willie.  He had been arguing with Barbara the night before and anger can do crazy things to people.

“Hello?  What are you thinking about?  You look decidedly less excited than I expected.”

“I don’t think that Willie did murder Barbara.”

“Why not?”

“I just think that the chocolate cake on his sleeve is a bit weird.  No one has said that she was force-fed the cake.”

“So?”

“So, he probably just got chocolate on his sleeve when he wiped his mouth or something.  He’s not a violent man.  I don’t think he did it.”

“Again, so?”

“Oh Lizzie, don’t you get it? If he’s not guilty, then they may come back to me as the killer.  We need to find the real murderer.”

“We need to do what?  I’m not sure, MB.  I’m all for proving that you are innocent, but…”

“But what?  What better way to clear my name than to actually catch the real murderer?”

“Okay, I’m in, but maybe for the sake of being thorough I should still go and check on Rachel and her beautiful clothes, I mean motive?”

“Later.  I think that we need to get into the bakery first.  Maybe fresh eyes on the crime scene will help us find something to help,”

“So,” Lizzie picked up my phone, “call Detective Hunky and ask when we can get in.”

“No, we can’t tell David.  Not until we have something solid.”

“So, let me understand you.  You want to break into the bakery?”

“Yes.”

“Great, I guess once you’ve been charged with murder a little B&E rap is nothing, huh?”

Laughing we started considering how to actually get into the bakery.  We agreed that we should wait until later that night so there would be less chance of anyone being out.  Lizzie gathered the black B&E clothing for us to wear.  With our smartphones, we’d have flashlights and cameras to take pictures of anything that we’d find, but getting in remained our biggest challenge.  Neither of us had ever picked a lock before and aside from prying open and squeezing into my apartment window while in college when I’d forgotten my key, I’d never broken into anywhere either.  I felt a rush of excitement at the thought of the adventure in spite of the fact that I knew how much depended on us finding something.

Around dinner time, a car pulled up outside.  Neither of us checked to see who it was; we just hurried to get the clothes and other things out of sight before anyone came to the door. Lizzie quickly gathered all the clothes and I grabbed the kitchen things that we were considering as possible lock picks. I opened the small drawer in the coffee table and swiped the small forks, lobster picks and knives into it just as the knock came.

“Green Eyes, are you home?” 

I sighed in relief that it was David and the goofy smile crept back onto my face as I closed the drawer and went to the door. Lizzie came out as I opened the door.

“Hi, we’re here.”

“We’re? Oh, hi Lizzie,” he said and closed the door.

“How are you doing?”

“I’ve had better days, but I’m okay.  Can you tell me anything about what’s going on?”

“Well, other than Pete being pretty mad that we had to kick you loose. Not too much.”

“How did you get me out?”

“Oh well, as much as I’d like to take credit for that, it was the DA who felt that with Willie as a potential suspect, along with you, that it was premature to make an arrest.”

“Yes, but who brought Willie up to the DA?”

“Okay, so I might have helped a little.”  He smiled.

“Nice, but can I interrupt the “Love-Fest” for a minute and ask if you think they’ll arrest Willie or will they come for MB again?”

“I’m not sure, Lizzie.  Right now, everyone is hot to get this all wrapped up, but the evidence is sketchy and so either one can get the nod.”

“Can you think of anything that might help her get off?” Lizzie pleaded.

“I wish I could, but the fact that the poison was mixed into the frosting of the Death by Chocolate cake that Barbara ate and that the recipe card had been lying under the body makes it a pretty convincing and an easy case.”

“What do they have on Willie besides the chocolate cake stain on his shirt and the fight with Barbara the night before?” I asked.

“Honestly, not much.  There is some history with them from when Willie hung out with her son, but we haven’t been able to dig up anything concrete about their relationship, as yet.”

“What about her husband?” Lizzie suggested.

“Well, I spoke to him earlier today and he did go to his mother’s house.  She has private nursing care in her home and she confirms his story of when he arrived and said that he never left the house until the police came and told him about Barbara’s murder.”

“I wish it’d been trash day because then the guys would have been able to vouch for me,” I said.