Sweet Taffy and Murder: Sweet Taffy Cozy Mysteries Book #1 (15 page)

Taffy stormed into the police station the next morning. Zoe saw her coming and didn’t block her as she beelined for Maria’s desk.

“Did you call Nana?”

Maria looked up from her computer. “What?”

“Did you tell her about the murder?”

Maria pursed her lips and then let some pent-up air escape through a narrow gap. “Yeah. I called her. I thought she should know.”

“She told me to come home.”

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“I did, but—”

“So go then. You belong in New York more than you belong in Abandon, Oregon.”

Maria’s words stung way worse than a facial chemical peel.

“You really believe that?”

“Well, what were you thinking, Taffy? That you’d settle here for good? Fix up Janet Harken’s old house? Harass me about future cases?”

Did that seem so ridiculous?

“So you wouldn’t care if I left?”

Maria glanced away for a second. “I guess I’d be sad to say goodbye again, but you have to make your own decision.”

Somehow Taffy had expected more from Maria. And Maria seemed to sense that. She fidgeted in her seat. Then she sighed.

“Look, Taffy, at first I just couldn’t believe you’d just showed up after all these years. It’s been a long time. I was shocked to see you.”

She looked away for a minute and took a deep breath. Her voice got quieter.

“Back then, when we were twelve, it hurt a lot to lose my best friend, and moving away was hard. New York was the only home I’d known. I think I blamed you for that, too. My mom had to work so hard to make ends meet. There were some lean years during my teens, and I always imagined you with all your other friends, partying, having everything you could ever dream of.”

“Except a mother.” Taffy’s throat tightened. “At least you had your mother.”

Maria looked down. “I know. I’m sorry. I never thought of how much you might be suffering. I remember you didn’t cry at the funeral. Maybe I thought you didn’t care that much. But I guess you were still in shock.”

Taffy swallowed the lump in her throat. “Maybe I still am.”

Maria reached out to touch Taffy’s arm.

“I’m so sorry about your mom. I really am. It was a tragedy for all of us. That’s the thing. It hurt
all
of us, the death and what happened after. And—”

Maria pulled her hand back and seemed to grow small and awkward in her chair as she looked away, no longer meeting Taffy’s gaze. She picked up a pencil and chewed its tip.

“And what?” Taffy said, leaning forward.

Maria tried to laugh off her awkwardness.

“And you should go if you want to go. Go back to your great life in the Big Apple. Just get it over with. Because—”

“Because what?”

Maria took a big breath, and this time she looked directly at Taffy.

“Because I’m starting to get used to having my friend back, and it’s gonna hurt like hell when she disappears again.”

Taffy blinked.

Maria put her pencil down and whispered, “So go already.”

Taffy took a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Until Zoe approached and dropped a file on Maria’s desk.

“The lab results you ordered.”

Zoe walked away. Maria fingered the file.

Taffy said, “Well?”

“What?”

“What’s in the file?” Maria wasn’t going to get rid of Taffy that easily. She was getting used to having her old friend back in her life, too.

After hesitating a moment, Maria flipped open the file. “The results from the firewood.”

“I thought you said it wouldn’t qualify as a murder weapon.”

“It doesn’t, but I was still curious about the residue you pointed out, so I got it tested.”

“And?”

Maria’s finger tracked the lines and columns of the report.

“Huh. Turns out it’s masticated chewing tobacco. You know what that means.”

Taffy didn’t.

Maria said, “Only one person I know in this town chews tobacco.”

Realization dawned. “Bill Doucet?”

“This doesn’t necessarily mean anything, he stopped by Janet’s often, since they were friends, so it could have been from anytime, but the odd thing is we still haven’t been able to find him to question him about Swain’s death. Sometimes he disappears when he’s in one of his moods. And he’s just lost two of his best friends, so he’s probably not doing so well.”

“Where does he disappear to?”

Maria shrugged. “Ethan might know. Can you ask him?”

“Um. We’re not talking at the moment.”

Maria looked concerned.

Taffy held up a hand and said, “Never mind.”

Maria let it go. “If you’re not jumping on the first plane out of here, why don’t you come for dinner tonight? My mom said she’d like to see you again.”

“Can’t. I have a date.”

“You just said you and Ethan were in rough waters.”

Taffy felt a little guilty admitting, “It’s with Austin.”

Maria tilted her head to one side. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?” Then she shrugged. “Who knows, perhaps you’re more well suited, but I can’t imagine that going over well with Ethan.”

“Thus the fight. But Ethan won’t even ask me out on a proper date.”

“It’s obvious he likes you.”

“It’s not so obvious to me.” Taffy stood up. “I’ve got to stop by Ellie’s now. I’ll be sure to grill Austin for information about Mick.” Taffy winked.

Maria made a face. “Ugh. Please don’t embarrass me.”

“What are friends for?”

Taffy drove over to Ellie’s house. On the way, she thought about how mad she had felt about Maria telling Nana about the murder, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. She could see now that Maria, in her own way, was looking out for Taffy but also trying to look out for herself. Taffy hadn’t had a clue about Maria’s sense of loss after Ellen Belair died. And then she had moved all the way across the country, leaving everything that she knew and loved. Taffy must have been a painful reminder at first, and then as they got to know each other all over again—became friends again—some of the past began to heal. Taffy could feel it. And the kind of friendship she had with Maria was so different than with her New York friends. It was deeper, based on a common goal. So what if the goal was tracking down a murderer? Taffy felt happier, and more useful, than she’d felt in a long time. Even Ellie had turned out to be a loyal, thoughtful-if-ditzy-at-times friend. Taffy might not belong anywhere yet, but she was starting to appreciate where she was.

She pulled into Ellie’s driveway.

Ellie peeked through the sheer curtains and waved. She had a beer in one hand and a dust buster in the other. The dust buster was gone by the time she opened the door just ahead of Taffy’s knock.

“It’s so good to
seeee
you,” squealed Ellie. Taffy was surprised by Ellie’s firm, possessive hug.

“I just can’t believe the news about the factory. It’s horrible. And what are they going to do with all that candy? That’s what I’d like to know.” Taffy couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Ellie chattered on. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get more shifts at the gas station, but my parents said I can live at home as long as I want, and something’s bound to come up. Maybe I’ll go back to school.” Ellie finally took a breath and said, “So are you excited about tonight?”

Taffy shrugged. “Not really.”

“I would be if I were you. Wanna beer?”

“I shouldn’t. I’m driving.”

“Come on. You need to relax a little before your big date.”

“Just one then.”

Ellie grabbed a can from the fridge. “You’ll probably want a proper glass.” She started pouring the beer before Taffy had answered. Then she turned and handed over the tall glass as she gave Taffy the once-over.

“I have just the thing to whet Austin’s whistle. He prefers tight and metallic.”

“How do you even
know
that?”

“I told you. I know things about people.”

“Like you’re psychic or intuitive? Or just nosy?”

“You want to know all my secrets?”

Taffy held up a hand. “On second thought—”

Following Ellie into her bedroom, which was more cluttered than ever, Taffy glanced at the Sons of Insanity poster. Ellie noticed.

“Have you talked to your dreamboat of a dad lately? I’d love to get his autograph.”

Taffy shook her head. She wondered mildly where he was now. She should have asked her Nana while she’d had her on the phone.

“Now let me see.” Ellie pushed open her closet doors. A variety of items spilled out from the overstuffed insides.

The closet was packed, and not just with clothes. There were baseball mitts, balls, and two bats; tennis racquets, a pool cue, and a butterfly net; plus clothing of all sizes and colors, and heaps of hats and belts.

“I know I’ve got something here,” mumbled Ellie, searching.

On the closet floor, amongst a plethora of heels, mules, sneakers, and boots, Taffy saw something familiar. She pointed to a pair of brown suede boots that looked exactly like hers.

“Ellie, are those—”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Ellie turned a painful shade of red.

Taffy was confused. “They
are
mine? But I don’t remember you asking to borrow them.”

Ellie bit her lip. “Uh. I didn’t ask.”

“You
took
them? When?”

“Um. The other night.”

Taffy shook her head. “You went to the house when I wasn’t there?”

“Yeah. Lots of times.” At first she seemed pleased, and then she saw the look in Taffy’s eyes. “I mean, it’s just something I do. I can’t help it.”

Taffy started shaking her head. What was Ellie saying?

“I’m sorry,” Ellie pleaded. “Really sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“But what did you do while I was gone?”

“Nothing really. Just looked at things, read books, looked in closets… I took a bath once.”

Taffy was shocked.

“So it must have been you who left a coffee cup in the dish rack the other day?”

Ellie thought for a second.

“No. I never did that.”

“What do you mean ‘you can’t help yourself’?”

Ellie looked sheepish now. “It’s a problem I have.”

Taffy looked at the closet’s contents with fresh eyes. “Did you
steal
all this stuff?”

“Not
all
of it. Most of it’s mine.”

“And you’ve never been caught?”

“Yeah, a bunch of times. Allan caught me a few months ago, sneaking out of Austin’s house. He said he wouldn’t write up a report if I went out on a date with him.”

“What did you steal from Austin?”

She turned away and mumbled something incoherent.

“What are you saying?” said Taffy, leaning forward.

Ellie's cheeks were pink as she repeated, “Just a few things. A pair of underwear. His toothbrush.”

“How long have you had this problem?”

Ellie stuck her thumbnail in her mouth and started chewing. “Since I was about eleven. Janet knew about it, when she was giving me piano lessons. She said I was welcome to take anything in her house, so long as I didn’t go in the attic.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to anyway, the key’s missing.”

Ellie sighed. “That’s because I took it. I’ve got a thing for keys.” She pointed to the large jar on her shelf.

“The key for Janet’s attic is in your jar?”

“I’ll find it and give it back if you want.”

“Do you have the key to her front door, too?”

“The one from under the flowerpot?”

“Ellie! You have to give me all the keys that belong to the house. I can’t believe you took them!”

“I don’t mean to hurt anyone by doing what I do. I really can’t help it.” Her lower lip was trembling.

“Did you take anything else from me?”

Ellie hung her head. “Just one thing, but I was planning to put it back.”

Taffy stepped in front of Ellie’s closet. She pawed through the hangers and found what she was looking for.

“I knew it! My slip dress!”

“I told you I was planning to put it back.”

“It doesn’t even fit you!”

“You’re angry.”

“Who wouldn’t be? You really need to get some help for this problem.”

“Does this mean we’re not friends anymore?”

“I want those keys back, Ellie.”

Ellie started digging in the jar. She looked like she was about to cry, but Taffy didn’t feel like comforting her now. She glanced at the basket full of mittens and gloves and wondered if Janet’s missing red mitten was buried inside. Not that it mattered now.

Ellie’s eyes had filled with tears yet to fall by the time she handed Taffy several keys. “Are you going to report me?”

Taffy thought about it. “Your boyfriend’s already let you off the hook once. Why wouldn’t he do it again?”

“Do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Ellie, but we can’t be friends anymore.”

“No!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t trust you now.”

Two tears fell as Ellie nodded.

Taffy picked up her boots.

“I r-r-really like those boots,” Ellie said through sniffles.

“Yeah, so do I.”

Taffy left Ellie’s room. She left the house and got in her car. She had a date to get ready for, but there was something she had to do first.

Taffy parked the Aveo in Janet’s driveway. Dropping her purse, boots, and dress on the foyer floor, she headed straight upstairs.

She fit the old-fashioned key in the lock of the attic door. The door creaked as she pulled it back. A dry, dusty smell cascaded down the narrow steps. She flicked on the light switch at the bottom of the stairs, but nothing happened. The light from the upstairs hall illuminated the ascending staircase just enough for her to see a bare bulb with a dangling chain within reach of the top step. She held her phone tight in one hand and proceeded upwards.

About halfway up, she heard a funny scratching sound and then felt something soft and sinewy slither past her leg. She dropped her phone as Midnight bolted up the steps past her, his nails scratching against the wooden treads. Taffy’s phone bounced down to the bottom step. She was tempted to abort her mission, ensure her phone wasn’t damaged, and shut the door on Midnight just to teach him a lesson for scaring her, but she was just two steps away from the dangling chain. She reached for it and yanked, and dull yellow light bounced against the steep slopes of the attic roof.

She looked around for Midnight but couldn’t find him amongst the plethora of boxes. Not furniture, not antiques, not even trunks potentially full of old china or vintage clothes. Just banker’s boxes. Rows and rows of them, as if Janet had robbed a lawyer’s career collection of files.

Totally disappointed, Taffy was about to revert to her old plan—retrieving her phone and abandoning Midnight to his catty deeds—when she noticed the label of one of the boxes:
MBC Recipes
. Looking closer, she saw that dozens of boxes had similar labels. The only differences were references to years in smaller print under the main headings, like little gravestones: 1995–1999. 2001–2004.

She kneeled down next to one box and lifted the lid. Midnight chose that moment to jump out from behind another box, which made Taffy’s skin prick with an adrenaline surge. She cursed the cat. Volubly. Midnight disappeared into the shadows at the far end of the attic.

Inside the box was what she expected: files. She flipped one open to reveal newspaper clippings of photos and articles relating to a logging protest in Canada. In another file, she found information about a sit-in at an oil drilling site. In another, people were being arrested on city streets. A couple of headlines remarked, “Eco-Terrorists Strike Again.”

What was all this?

In one of the newspaper images she saw a woman resembling the picture she’d seen on the wall of the candy factory. Was that a younger version of Janet? The same woman was in several different pictures, leading different groups of protestors, and in some cases clashing with police. In one image, her body was strapped on the hood of a massive bulldozer.

The images and articles went back decades.

Taffy lifted the lid off another box and found it full of composition notebooks like the one she’d found in the piano bench. These books contained coded pairs of numbers, too.

What did a bowling club have to do with all these past protests?

Taffy came across one image of the woman who looked like Janet being taken away in handcuffs. She looked at the line under the photo.
Jane Doe gets arrested for her role in the oil standoff. Secca Industries presses charges for radical interference. Jail time likely.

Could that really be Janet? Upstanding citizen of sleepy Abandon, piano teacher, and part owner of a candy factory?

She flipped through a dozen or more files, all of them relating to various forms of eco-activism, some of it quite extreme. At the bottom of one box, she found some pages with cut-out newsprint letters pasted to them, similar to the ones she and Maria had found earlier. But Taffy didn’t have much more time to reflect on her strange findings. Austin would be by to pick her up in half an hour.