A Pinch of Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery (Frosted Love Mysteries Book 2) (9 page)

Chas Beckett had a lot of details to share with Brasco and Ramirez and knew that too much precious time had passed, so he tried to summarize his findings quickly and concisely.

“
From the very beginning, Missy and I looked at Taylor Whitcombe, the assistant, as the primary suspect. The details made sense, mostly. Marta Cambridge had cut him out of a sizable commission by going directly to Missy with her offer of a franchise opportunity, so it only stood to reason that she
’
d be planning to cut him out of the oversight of the new franchise as well, since it was located in her hometown and would give her an excuse to visit anytime she liked. The only thing that we couldn
’
t figure out is why someone with
‘
old money
’
backing, like Whitcombe, would take such a ridiculous chance over what amounted, to him, to pocket change
–
tens of thousands of dollars at most. He probably carries more than that in the change tray of his car,
”
Chas made a face.

“
Yeah, he had an airtight alibi too,
”
Brasco nodded.
“
Could prove where he was at the time of the murder with witnesses, receipts and video
–
it was a dead end for us.
”

“
It was for me too, which is why, although I continued to investigate him, I also kept an eye out for anything else that was suspicious,
”
Beckett assured him.

“
So what
’
d you find?
”
Ramirez butted in skeptically.

“
There was this guy who kept popping up, everywhere Missy went. If she was at the pool, he was at the pool. Even when she changed hotels, he ended up at the casino,
‘
coincidentally
’
at the same time that she did. She had introduced me to the guy, and I just got a bad feeling about him, so I decided to check him out.
”

“
Some of my best cases have been cracked because I followed my gut,
”
Brasco mused, interested.

“
Exactly.
”
Chas agreed. Missy said that she had met the dude a few years ago at another baking competition, so I did a little digging and found out that this guy
’
s business had been on the verge of bankruptcy for years, but suddenly had an infusion of cash from an untraceable source that helped put him back on the map in the industry. I wondered how a guy like that even got invited to a prestigious competition, so I explored a little further and found some tabloid photos of Marta Cambridge out on the town in Europe with a guy who looked suspiciously like my suspect.
”

“
So who
’
s the guy?
”
Ramirez interrupted again.

“
Andrew Benson, owner of The Pastry Party, and secret lover of Marta Cambridge.
”

“
So what makes you think he did it? Wouldn
’
t that be like cutting off his nose to spite his face?
”
Brasco asked, puzzled.

“
Not when you consider that, despite the fact that Andrew got back on his feet financially, Marta never offered him a very lucrative opportunity to join her franchise, but there
’
s more to it than that, which I
’
ll get to in a moment.
”
Chas saw the light beginning to dawn as Brasco absorbed the new info. Ramirez still looked skeptical, but he was beginning to think that that was just a personality trait for her.
“
Missy said that you were going to somehow try to nail her based upon the time and cause of death. It doesn
’
t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if that
’
s the angle you were taking, the death had to have occurred when Missy was with Marta, and since she obviously didn
’
t exact violence upon the poor woman, the cause of death had to be something much more subtle
…
like poison perhaps.
”
A look of begrudging respect crossed Ramirez
’
s face briefly at this revelation, but she shut it down quickly enough.

Chas continued.
“
So my first order of business was to pay a visit to your local coroner, who is quite a charming gal I might add, and quite talkative when business is slow. I told her I was doing a shadow investigation to assist you, and while she didn
’
t show me the report, she did let me know that I was on the right track with poison being the culprit and time of death being roughly nine hours after ingestion. From there I went to the Top of the World, where Missy and Marta had lunch and asked to review their security footage for the day and time in question. With just the tiniest bit of persuasive charm, the security guard on duty showed it to me, and I figured out everything I needed to know
…
almost. In the security film, there is quite clearly a moment where Ms. Cambridge reaches into her purse, pulls out a bottle of prescription medication, shakes two tablets into her hand and takes them with some water. The water that she drank was poured from a pitcher by the waiter, who filled Missy
’
s glass from the same source, so we could rule out the water as being the source of the poison, which left the tablets.

Knowing that of course Marta
’
s medication wouldn
’
t be poisonous, I figured out that someone who had access to her room must
’
ve placed fake
‘
medication
’
into the bottle in order to poison her. I watched Benson
’
s room until he left, then I convinced the housekeeper on his floor that I had locked myself out, so she used her passkey to let me into his room. I slipped on some gloves and went through his belongings until I found a stash of some very interesting items. In his possession were the chemicals necessary to make tablets of the exact type that had poisoned Marta Cambridge. He also had duct tape, black clothing, two different ski masks, a bit unusual in 100 degree heat, don
’
t you think?
”
he asked rhetorically before continuing,
“
and probably the most interesting item that I found hidden in a secret pocket of his valise, was a pre-nuptial agreement that had been drawn up by Marta
’
s attorneys, which stated that if they ever divorced, for any reason, Benson would be left with nothing more than the clothes on his back and his cute little bakery. Apparently, even if she planned to marry him, she had no intention of going into business with him,
”
Chas concluded.

“
Do you have proof of all of this? Brasco demanded, clearly believing him.

“
I took photos on my phone of all the evidence and transferred them to this thumb drive. I also took samples of each of the chemicals and placed them in individual evidence baggies and photographed them as well, next to the bottles that they came out of. If he didn
’
t find them, the baggies were stuffed in the toe of my jogging shoe in my gym bag.
”

“
Damn,
”
Ramirez stared at him, impressed.

“
Yeah, great job, Beckett,
”
Brasco nodded.
“
I need to make some phone calls.
”

Brasco knew how to put things in motion, dispatching a team of officers to secure Andrew Benson
’
s hotel room, as well as Missy
’
s and Beckett
’
s. He also tasked Detective Ramirez with trying to establish whether Benson had any potential hiding places locally, or if there was evidence that he had left the area. He called Missy
’
s cell phone in the vain hope that she
’
d answer, and wasn
’
t surprised when his call went to voicemail. He knew that finding the apparently missing girl within the shortest amount of time possible was crucial to her survival and feared that too much time had been lost already.

Missy waited until she heard the crunch of the van
’
s tires receding as Andrew drove away before trying to work her hands free in earnest, which was no easy task with all of her body weight on top of them. She wiggled and struggled, grunting with her effort. She had to get out of the bungee cords and off of the cot. If she did that, she could try to tear her bonds by rubbing them back and forth across the bricks in front of the wood-stove. It wasn
’
t a great plan, but it was the best that she could think of in her weakened and frightened state. She scooted over as close as she could to the edge of the cot and bucked her body violently, causing the back legs of the cot to rise off the ground a few inches and slam back down. She knew that she had a limited amount of time and bucked again with as much strength as she could muster. She felt the back legs rise up higher this time and turned her face quickly to the right, bracing for impact as the cot flipped over on its side, slamming her to the floor. She drew her knees up as much as she could, struggling to slip her bound feet underneath the first set of bungee cords. The sun had risen, shining its golden light in the window, and combined with the hellish heat of the wood-stove had turned the small room into a furnace.

Missy could feel beads of sweat forming on her face and trickling down her back as she worked her feet free to the knees. Using them to brace herself on the floor, she tried in vain to scoot higher up on the cot. Realizing that her strategy wasn
’
t working, she tried another tactic and bent her knees again, trying to work her feet through the second set of cords. She had almost made it when her feet caught on the cords and refused to budge. She was exhausted, and knew that her strength was entirely spent, so she simply allowed her body to go limp, tears of frustration falling in warm drops to the rough wood floor. She heard the crunch of tires in the drive and was faced with the realization that she was most likely taking her last breaths. Her heart ached with loss at the thought of never seeing her beloved Toffee again, or never knowing what it felt like to press her lips to those of her hero, Chas Bennett. Her sweet little store would close, and her loyal assistant Ben, whom she loved like a son would be bereft and unemployed. She wept silently, preparing to die. The door burst open suddenly, blinding her with sunlight, and she knew the end was near.

“
Missy!
”
she heard the most precious voice in her world and assumed she must already be dead. She opened her eyes and saw the handsome face of Chas Beckett looming over her, backlit by the sun.
“
Brace yourself,
”
he said, and tore the duct tape from her mouth.

“
Oww
…”
she cried weakly.
“
Chas, you
’
re okay
…
I was so worried about you,
”
were the first words out of her raw lips.

His jaw tightened with emotion as a voice behind him said,
“
Let
’
s get her turned right side up and get these cords off.
”
Chas and Detective Brasco gently set the cot back on its feet and undid the bungee cords, helping her to sit up. Both brought out their standard issue knives and went to work on the duct tape securing her hands and feet, freeing her within minutes.

“
I
’
m so sorry this happened to you,
”
Beckett whispered, pulling her into a hug as soon as she was freed.
“
Are you okay?
”

“
I am now,
”
came the muffled answer as she sobbed into his chest. She pulled back, still crying and grabbed him hysterically by the lapels of his button-down shirt.
“
Chas, it was Andrew! Andrew killed Marta, and he
’
s the one who hurt you, and he tricked me into getting into his van, and he brought me here, and you have to find him!
”
she pleaded.

Chas stroked her hair and spoke soothingly.
“
We will, Missy. We
’
ll find him and bring him to justice,
”
he promised as she rested limply against his chest once more.

Suddenly Missy heard the grating tones of Detective Ramirez just outside the door.
“
Look what the cat dragged in,
”
she called out, roughly pushing a handcuffed and highly agitated Andrew Benson up the drive in front of the door. Missy trembled at the sight of her wild-eyed captor and buried her head in Beckett
’
s chest again.

“
This dirt bag had the audacity to get out of his van like nothing had happened and started hitting on me,
”
Ramirez complained, shaking her head in disbelief.

“
Take the trash out, Ramirez,
”
Brasco directed, practically sneering at Benson.
“
Book him.
”