Death by Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 5 (5 page)

“Thomas is lucky that he’s in custody,” Tiara seethed, feeling protective of her fragile friend.

“I just hate that Kelcie was hurt,” Marilyn lamented.

“Yeah, me too,” her daughter agreed, wiping down the front counter after the morning rush.

They both looked up when the door opened, admitting Sam, the yoga student/delivery guy.

“Hi,” he said shyly. “I just wanted to stop in and make sure that Kelcie is okay,” he said quietly.

“How do you know about Kelcie?” Tiara’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m the one who called the police when she screamed. I had delivered food for her earlier, and then realized that I’d left out part of her order. When I went back and rang the bell, I heard her scream. I tried to get inside to help, but the doors were both locked, so I called the police. Is she okay?” he asked.

Marilyn’s daughter relaxed visibly. “Yeah, sorry. Our nerves are just strung pretty thin around here right now. Kelcie has a concussion, but she’s going to be okay.”

“Oh, that’s great news,” he smiled with relief. “She seems like such a nice person.”

“She really is a sweetie,” Marilyn replied. “Can we get you anything, since you’re here?”

“Well, now that you mention it, I’d love a slice of that amazing Key Lime pie,” he admitted.

“Coming right up,” Tiara said, heading for the display case. “To go?”

“Please,” Sam nodded. “I have to get to work, I just wanted to make sure that Kelcie was okay and that the police had arrived in time. They sent me away after they asked me a few questions, so I never got to see her.”

“Well, we’re all relieved that she’s on the road to recovery and shouldn’t be in danger any longer,” Marilyn said.

“Exactly. How much do I owe you?” he asked when Tiara handed him the bag with his slice of pie.

“It’s on the house – yoga student special,” she smiled.

“Wow, thank you,” he said, surprised.

“No problem. See you at class,” she replied.

Sam headed off to work and the two women were silent for a moment after he left.

“Nice guy,” Marilyn mused, nodding approvingly.

“Yep, he might be just what Kelcie needs to make her forget all about Thomas and her stalker,” Tiara agreed.

“Thomas might actually be the stalker,” her mother reminded her.

“I hope he goes to jail for a very long time if he is,” her daughter snarled. “But it wouldn’t really make sense,” she said thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, remember back at the beginning of all of this mess, the reason that Thomas broke up with Kelcie is because he thought that she was having an affair with the stalker?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Marilyn exclaimed. “I had forgotten about that. Things have been so crazy lately, that I even forgot Thomas had existed in her world. You don’t suppose that he has a multiple personality or something do you?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“It’s a possibility, but don’t you think that Kelcie would’ve picked up on that somehow?” Tiara asked reasonably.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Marilyn pursed her lips in frustration. “But if Thomas isn’t the stalker, that means the stalker is still out there.”

“I’d bet my last dollar on your creepy neighbor, Tim. He always seems to show up at all the wrong times, looking and acting sketchy,” her daughter pointed out.

“But when he saw Kelcie’s name on the florist’s box, he asked who she was…” her mother replied, lost in thought.

“Of course he did, Mom. Did you expect him to just admit in front of all of us that he’d been stalking her, and that the box was from him?” Tiara challenged.

“Hmmm…I suppose not,” Marilyn agreed, thinking that it was probably about time to have a talk with her odd neighbor.

“I can see what you’re thinking, dear mother of mine, and you need to stop that thought right now,” her daughter warned. “Let the police take care of this. The last time you took matters into your own hands, you startled an innocent repairman.”

“Now, Tiara, you know that I…” Marilyn broke off her sentence, staring at the door. “Of all the nerve,” she said, eyes narrowed.

Following her gaze, Tiara glanced out the front windows to see the object of their discussion, Tim Eckels, shuffling along toward the front door. She beat her mother to the punch as soon as the unsuspecting man opened the door.

“Just who do you think you are, coming in here after what you’ve been doing?” the young woman marched from behind the counter, invading the awkward man’s space, hands on hips. She towered over him by a good six inches, and peered down at him as though he was a cockroach that had been discovered in the pantry.

“Did Kelcie like the pie?” he asked, completely ignoring her outburst, and not at all fazed by the intimidating young woman’s stature.

Marilyn and Tiara exchanged a look that communicated that both of them had forgotten that he’d practically forced a pie upon her. Marilyn made a mental note to check in with Bernard about that later. As usual, he probably wouldn’t tell her anything because he was still investigating, but it was worth a try at least.

“No, she hated it,” the young woman replied nastily. “She said it was the worst pie she’d ever tasted,” she continued, noting the shocked look on Tim’s face. They’d never seen him show that degree of emotion before, his usual flat affect making him seem like a cold, dead fish of a human being.

“You’re lying,” he said, sounding a bit robotic, as though he was so stunned he could barely form words. “Grandma’s pie is the best. Always the best. If she said that, she’s lying. You don’t lie about Grandma’s pie,” he finished quietly. He turned to leave the store, muttering. “You don’t lie about Grandma’s pie. That’s bad. Grandma’s pie is best…”

“Have you lost your mind?” Marilyn demanded. “You may have just put Kelcie in terrible danger!”

Tiara looked at her mother smugly. “You hate just sitting back and doing nothing, so I did something. His grandmother’s pie seems to be the only thing he cares about, other than the cat that no one has ever seen. What I said provoked a reaction in him that may force his hand, because he’s so upset,” she explained. “You watch his cottage from your house, I’ll watch Kelcie’s apartment from down the street, and if he goes anywhere near her, we call the police,” she finished triumphantly.

Marilyn raised her eyebrows, seeing the possibilities in her daughter’s plan, and impressed by her on-the-fly decision making. “That might just work,” she nodded. “Let’s get a plan together.”

“Detective, I’m not asking you to make me privy to confidential information, I’m just very concerned that I might be living next door to a stalker and/or a murderer, and I’d like some assurance that that’s not the case,” Marilyn reasoned, sitting across the desk from Bernard at his office. She and Tiara were going to put “Operation Stalk the Stalker” into motion tonight, and she wanted to try to feel out the detective to see if they were on the right track.

“Marilyn, you know that I can’t comment on the evidence in an ongoing investigation,” the detective looked irritated.

“Aha!” she exclaimed. “So my neighbor is part of an ongoing investigation…I knew it!”

“Now don’t jump to any conclusions,” Bernard sighed, frustrated with her active imagination.

“Look, I’ve lived next to this psycho for several months now, and the longer that I know him, the more creeped out I get. I don’t think this is just me being paranoid, or jumping at shadows. This is a very real and valid concern based upon his past and current behaviors,” she asserted. “Please, Bernard,” she leaned forward, widening her chocolate brown eyes in what she hoped was a demure fashion. “Isn’t there anything that you can tell me?” she had to work at not actually batting her eyes.

The detective sighed again, refusing to let this vixen get to him, despite his human inclinations. “No, there isn’t, Marilyn. I’m sorry,” he sat back, dismissing her.

A mask shuttered down over her open expression, and she sat back, disappointed on so many levels. “Fine,” she replied coolly. “I’ll just be going then,” she rose to leave.

“Heading to the beach tonight?” he asked casually, shuffling papers back and forth on his desk.

“I don’t seem to have the time for that kind of indulgence these days,” she said, moving toward the door. “Have a nice day, Detective.”

Sitting in her car in the parking lot at the police station, Marilyn banged her steering wheel with the heels of her hands, frustrated both at having behaved in turn like a wanton hussy and then like a shrew toward Bernard, and the fact that her vile behavior hadn’t translated into any results. Knowing that she still had work to do, she turned the key in the ignition and backed out of her spot, not noticing the parted blinds in Bernard’s office that looked out over the parking lot.

**

“Okay, so I’ll take the car and park down the street from Kelcie’s apartment,” Tiara said, sitting down at her mother’s kitchen table to strategize.

“Right, and I’ll stay here and keep watch on Tim’s cottage,” Marilyn said, easing her fork into a piece of Key Lime pie.

“How are you going to manage that without him knowing?” her daughter asked.

“I’ll go through my typical evening routine. I’ll have dinner, clean up the dishes, and curl up in a lounger on the back patio with a book, pretending to read. Then, when the sun goes down, I’ll head upstairs for a bath, like I always do. I’ll turn on the bathroom light, run the water, and when it’s time to “get in,” I’ll duck below the level of the window, sneak down the stairs, and go out on the back patio under the cover of darkness. I’ll set up behind the stand of trees between the houses where I can see, but not be seen, and watch from there. From that vantage point, I’ll be able to see if he comes out of his front door or his garage,” she detailed the plan.

“What if he leaves from the back door?” Tiara inquired.

“I’ll know, because his yard is fenced in the back and on the other side. The only way he’d be able to slip out, would be to cut through the tree line where I’ll be sitting, so no matter which way he tries to leave, I’ll see him,” Marilyn assured her daughter.

“But what are you going to do if he does leave?”

“He doesn’t have a car, so I’ll follow him on foot, staying far enough back that he won’t see or hear me,” she explained.

“That sounds risky,” Tiara worried.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be very careful. Besides, if it comes down to a confrontation, I have my mace, and your yoga classes assure me that I’m much more athletic than my pie-loving neighbor,” she said, hoping for a smile. It worked.

“I don’t know why I bother even raising concerns,” her daughter said wryly. “Once you’ve made up your mind to do something, you’re not going to let anyone stand in your way,” she shook her head, but smiled at her mother with admiration. “And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Let’s do this.”

Kelcie sat on the couch with a dull headache, flipping channels and feeling sorry for herself. Marilyn and Tiara had other plans for the evening, which left her to return alone to the house in which she’d been assaulted by Thomas. Her stomach growled, letting her know that she should eat something, but she just couldn’t find the will to get up and fix something, or to even grab her phone and order takeout. Thinking of food made her think of Sam, the delivery guy who had called the police for her, just in the nick of time. She wanted to thank him, but hadn’t had a chance yet. As if on cue, her doorbell rang.

Kelcie sat petrified, wondering what to do. The thought of a stranger at the door scared her to death, but, even worse, what if Thomas had somehow gotten out of jail and had come back to finish what he’d started. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she sat, paralyzed, wondering what to do, and wanting nothing more than to hide in a closet somewhere until whoever it was went away.

“Kelcie?” she heard a faint, familiar voice say through the door. “Kelcie, are you okay?”

It was Sam. She nearly fainted with relief. “Hang on a second,” she called out, walking quickly toward the door.

“Hi,” he said when she opened it. “I just wanted to come by and make sure that you’re okay,” he explained. “I thought you might be hungry, so…” he held up a pizza box and a 2-liter of soda.

Kelcie laughed with relief. “Thank you, Sam. You really didn’t have to,” she said, taking the pizza from him.

“Of course I didn’t have to…I wanted to,” he smiled shyly. “So, I’m glad you’re feeling better…enjoy,” he said, turning to go.

“Hey, wait,” Kelcie put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Do you want to come in and have a slice with me? It’s kind of boring and sad to eat alone all the time,” she shrugged. “We could watch a movie afterwards or something, if you’re not busy,” she offered.

Blushing to the tips of his ears, Sam nodded. “Thanks, I’d love to keep you company,” he agreed.

The two went into her apartment, never suspecting for an instant that Tiara had been watching their entire interaction.

“
Our plan may be foiled for tonight,
” she texted her mother.

“
What??
” was the instant reply.

“
Kelcie has a date. I don’t think that the stalker would try anything while there’s someone with her. Should I just come home?
”

“
A date? Who? No, don’t come home, we don’t know how long he’ll be there, and for all we know, the stalker stays up late.
”

“
Okay, I’ll hang out here then. It’s Sam from my yoga class

”

“
Awww…that’s cute. I’ll keep you posted as to Tim the Terrible’s movements
,” Marilyn replied.

“
Roger that.
”

Marilyn signed off, ready to execute her plan, as discussed. Tim couldn’t know that Kelcie had a date, so chances seemed good that he’d head over there eventually. If Sam was still there when he arrived, she and Tiara would have extra help “detaining” him. She’d had her dinner, done the dishes and pretended to read her book, all the while darting glances over to the tree line that separated her property from Tim’s. Now it was time to head upstairs to pretend to take a bath. Fluffy trotted up behind her, prepared to curl up in her usual spot on the bathroom rug. Marilyn started the water, actually filled the tub, waited what seemed to be an appropriate amount of time to undress and get in, then crouched down below the level of the windows and crept back down the stairs in the dark.

Heart pounding so loudly that she feared it would give away her location, Marilyn knelt among the evergreen boughs of the tree line, fixing her gaze on Tim Eckels’ front door. She had mace clamped tightly in one hand, and her cell phone in the other. Her unfortunate reality was that, in order to see beneath the lowest branches, she had to sit back on her heels, which was slowly but surely cutting off the circulation in her legs, bit by bit. She rested her weight first on one side then the other, but relief was fleeting. She really despised the thought of lying on the ground, but might have to consider it as a realistic option if her thighs continued to scream at her. She knelt on the ground, her knees feeling every fallen needle and miniature twig through the thin fabric of her jean capris, and in short order, that position became unbearable as well. Wanting to sigh in frustration, but afraid of the noise that it would make, Marilyn eased back on her heels, lifting her sore knees from the ground. Hearing a twig snap directly behind her, she whirled about to see Tim Eckels peering down at her with a blank expression.

“What are you doing?” he asked flatly.

Marilyn stood shakily to her feet, her mind working overtime to come up with an explanation. She brushed off the knees of her capris, and the seat of her pants, to buy some time, then decided that the aggressive approach was the way to go. She was armed with mace, and her cell phone – she dared him to try anything.

“I’m looking for my cat,” she growled, mocking him with his own excuse.

“I don’t have it,” he replied, blinking slowly.

Marilyn was taken aback by the odd response. Most folks would have asked about what the cat looked like, how long it had been missing, any number of things, but his choice to deny wrongdoing right from the start made her suspicious.

“I didn’t say that you did,” she tightened her grip on the mace.

“You’re staring at my house like you think I took your cat,” he observed mildly.

“No, I’m not. She likes to hide under branches, so I was checking here first,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through her ruse.

“Maybe she died,” he stared at her owlishly from behind his thick glasses.

Marilyn was aghast. “What a horrible thing to say!” she exclaimed.

Tim shrugged. “Death isn’t horrible…it just…happens,” he said with finality.

Chills ran up and down Marilyn’s spine as she realized that she very well might be in the company of a cold-blooded killer.