Murder is a Piece of Cake (A Baker Street Mystery Book 2)

Chris Russell spent five minutes lecturing me about not volunteering any information to the police. “Only answer questions that you’re asked,” he droned. And then he finished up with never talk to Trooper Bob, or any police, without legal counsel.

I assured him that I didn’t plan to have any conversations with the police, with or without legal counsel.

However, a few minutes later, I was proven wrong when I went outside in search of Michael and found him in a confrontation with Trooper Bob.

“What do you mean I can’t leave?” Michael folded his arms across his chest and stared down at Trooper Bob.

As a rule, Michael was even-tempered. Rarely had I seen him angry. In fact, this was a first. He’d been in the Army and deployed overseas. He’d seen unimaginable horrors, but he managed to stay positive and happy. Today, he was angry. His anger flashed in his eyes like a warning beacon, but Trooper Bob wasn’t picking up on the signal.

“Your vehicle is part of my crime scene. It stays. As first on the scene, you’re a witness, and you’ll stay until we’ve finished our questions.” He turned to me. “She’s welcome to leave. I can have a patrol car take her home.”

Michael swore. I’d heard plenty of soldiers swear, but again, this was another first in our relationship. He took a moment and explained exactly what Trooper Bob could do with his patrol car.

A vein on the side of Trooper Bob’s head started to pound, and a purple wave moved up his neck and inflamed his ears. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a tin of tobacco, took a pinch, and popped it in his mouth.

The men argued, and as much as I would have liked to have seen Trooper Bob knocked flat on his backside, I knew hitting a cop would not be a good career move.

Nose to nose and toe to toe, they argued.

“That’s ridiculous. We found the body together. Why—” A lightbulb went on behind Michael’s eyes. “Wait. You can’t honestly believe Madison had anything to do with this murder?”

Trooper Bob squinted. “I didn’t say she did, and I didn’t say she didn’t. But she argues with the first victim and then he’s found with a knife in his back, and her fingerprints are on the weapon. She admits to talking to this victim earlier, and we only have her word for it that the conversation was amicable. Then she gives some cock-and-bull story about a conversation she overhears in the john, and then victim number two is found inches from your vehicle.” He glared. “Frankly, I’m a fool for not locking her up right here and now. And I probably would have if it wasn’t for that overzealous Clarence Darrow attorney.”

The shock of hearing that Trooper Bob thought I had killed Clayton Davenport and Sybil Castleton had the opposite effect on me than it had on Michael. He was angry and clearly wanted nothing more than to put his fist through Trooper Bob’s face, while hearing the accusations out loud simply tightened my resolve to find the killer. I needed to fire up my little gray cells. I put a hand on Michael’s arm. I could feel the tension in his rock-solid bicep. “Stand down, soldier. It’s okay.”

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Leroy said. “She can ride with me and April.”

“I’m staying,” April said. “There’s work—”

Trooper Bob was shaking his head before the words were out of her mouth. “This is a crime scene—my crime scene. The only person with more of a reason to kill Clayton Davenport than she has”—he pointed to me—“was you.”

April blanched. “What was my motive for killing Sybil Castleton?”

“Look, I don’t have all of the threads tied up yet. Maybe you were helping out your friend. Or maybe you’re a crazed serial killer. I don’t rightly know, but I do know that you don’t need to be anywhere near this active investigation as long as there’s even the remotest chance that these two deaths are linked together.”

April looked ready to spit bullets. One glance around and she swallowed whatever she was going to say. The crowds may have been held back by the yellow crime scene tape, but they were close enough to watch and hear the melodrama unfolding.

“Fine.” She turned around and marched away.

“Was that really necessary?” I said.

“I’m investigating a murder,” Trooper Bob said. “Two murders. And Sheriff Johnson may or may not have had anything to do with either one, but I have a job to do, and I mean to do it without any interference.”

I turned to Michael. “You stay. I’m going home with Leroy. If it’s not too late, swing by when they release your car.”

He wasn’t happy. He glared. He took deep breaths. Eventually, he must have seen the futility of the situation. He pulled me close and stared into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” I hugged him. “Keep an eye on Trooper Bob and find out what he’s up to.”

“Is that it?”

“There is one more thing I need.” I leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Can you make sure Daisy is okay?”

“Make sure my girlfriend’s dog’s girlfriend is okay?” He grinned. “That’s not exactly the sweet nothings I wanted to hear you whispering in my ear.” He nibbled my earlobe. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck and a shiver went up my spine.

“What did you have in mind?”

He whispered something, and I didn’t need a mirror to know that I was blushing.

Trooper Bob walked to the edge of the crime scene tape and spat. “All right. You two are steaming up my crime scene.”

Nothing kills a romantic mood faster than the sound of a large wad of tobacco hitting the ground. We pulled apart, and I followed Leroy to his car.

April and Leroy must not have made reservations at the restaurant because he’d been forced to park quite a long distance away.

Leroy glanced down at my shoes. “Sorry, I could go get the car and pick you up, if you want to wait—”

I shook my head. “No way are you leaving me out here alone with a killer on the loose.”

He glanced around anxiously. “I shouldn’t have let April go off by herself. Do you think—”

“Not the same situation. April’s the sheriff. She’s probably packing heat, and she looked mad enough to shoot anyone who looked at her cross-eyed. Frankly, I pity the fool stupid enough to attack her.”

We eventually made our way to Leroy’s car and found April sitting on the hood.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I have never wanted to shoot anyone more than I wanted to shoot Trooper Bob.” She hung her head down. “Mostly because he was right.”

“Which part? The part about me killing Clayton Davenport? Or where I killed both Clayton and Sybil Castleton?”

“No. Of course I don’t believe you had anything to do with either murder.”

“Okay, what was he right about?”

“The part about it being his investigation. I mean, it is his case, not mine. I am too close to the murder victim, and shouldn’t be anywhere near it.” She took a deep breath and glanced through her lashes at me. “I heard today that the district attorney’s office is reopening the investigation into Bradley Ellison’s death.”

Brad Ellison had been a real estate developer who had come to New Bison from Chicago with dreams of selling all of the lakefront property to some big-city developers. “Why on earth would they do that? And what could Bradley Ellison possibly have to do with Clayton Davenport?”

A couple passed by on their way to their car, cutting April’s explanation short. “Let’s go home.”

We all got in the car, and while Leroy drove, April told us that Trooper Bob had found Brad Ellison’s contact information in Clayton’s phone.

“That makes sense if Clayton Davenport was one of the wealthy investors Brad was always bragging about,” I said.

“It also explains how Clayton figured out where I was,” April said.

We beat around a lot of ideas, but nothing rang a bell. By the time Leroy pulled into the driveway, my mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour.

I went to get Baby to let him out while April made tea and Leroy pulled thumbprint cookies out of the pantry.

We had just sat down at the table when there was a knock on the back door.

“Who could it be at this time of night?” I glanced at my watch. Then I saw Baby standing at the back door with his tail wagging. “Whoever it is, Baby knows them and likes them.”

I opened the door and found Alma Hurston.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late at night, but I saw the lights and took a chance that you were up.”

Alma Hurston lived next door and was Candy’s mother. Alma was petite with white downy hair and blue eyes. Tonight, those blue eyes, which were normally calm, were turbulent.

“Mrs. Hurston, what’s wrong? Come in. Have a seat?” I pulled out a chair and urged her to sit.

“What’s happened? I got a text from Candy that someone was murdered at the wine tasting.” She paced back and forth. “I tried to text back, and I never got a response. I saw you posted from the winery. Were you there? Is she okay? Who was murdered?” Alma Hurston fired questions at the speed of sound.

“A woman named Sybil Castleton was murdered. As far as I know, Candy is fine. I saw her with Chris Russell.”

Like a balloon that’s been deflated, Alma Hurston flopped down onto the seat. Tears streamed down her face. “Thank God.” She must have realized how that sounded, and she quickly corrected herself. “I don’t mean thank God that poor woman was killed. I have just been so worried about Candy. I wasn’t sure . . . I mean, I was afraid that someone . . . well, you know, after Paul and then this Clayton Davenport man . . . it was nerve-racking.”

April handed her a tissue, and Leroy poured her a cup of tea.

I reached over and squeezed her arm. “It’s all right. We understand. You were worried about your daughter’s safety. That’s natural.”

“Thank you.” She sniffed. “I guess I’m just overwrought between learning that Candy and Paul weren’t really married and then Marjorie showing up after all these years with that slimeball.” She gasped and looked up at April. “I’m sorry.”

April waved off her apology. “It’s okay. I agree with your assessment.”

“I intended to get with Candy to find out how things are going,” I said. “I know Chris Russell got some type of legal order that allowed her to stay in her apartment.”

Alma paused. “He did, which is good but . . . I just can’t help thinking he’s got ulterior motives.”

I stole a glance in April’s direction. “What do you mean?”

She gave a discreet cough. “I might just be an overprotective mother. That’s what Candy says, but he’s been wining and dining her. He sends her flowers and takes her for rides in his expensive sports car.” She dabbed at her eyes and took a sip of tea. “That’s bound to turn her head. Plus, she’s still in mourning. It’s only been three months since she lost her husband . . . well, Paul.”

“It does seem a bit soon, but maybe it’s not that serious. Maybe they’re just good friends.”

“You think so? I mean, I don’t have anything against Chris Russell, except he’s older than Candy and was good friends with Paul Rivers.”

I didn’t believe that for one minute, but I lied like a rug. “Sure, you know just because a man and woman hang out together doesn’t mean there’s . . . well, you know.”

Leroy stood behind Mrs. Hurston and made a motion that indicated he thought I’d lost all of my marbles, and April made a motion that indicated my nose was going to start growing like Pinocchio any minute. Regardless of what my friends thought, Mrs. Hurston appreciated my lies. She finished her tea, gave Baby a scratch behind his ears that made his leg jiggle, and then got up and said she’d better get home.

When she was gone, April turned to me. “You are too smart to believe that Chris Russell and Candy Hurston are just friends.” She used air quotes around friends. “Geez. The only reason he was able to get to Baby Cakes so quickly the night Clayton Davenport died was because he was next door with Candy.”

“Did you honestly want me to tell her that the only reason Candy hadn’t been arrested for killing Clayton Davenport was because she’d been . . . entertaining Chris Russell at the time of the murder and had an alibi?”

“I guess not.”

My phone vibrated. I had a text from Michael.

Squid, Red Team, over.

I smiled and typed. Go ahead, Red Team, over.

Tango acquired, break.

I didn’t have long to wait for the rest of his message.

Oscar Mike, over.

Wilco, over.

Roger, out.

April and Leroy waited for the translation.

“That was Michael. He has Daisy and is on his way.”

A few moments later, Baby stood up and went to the back door. His tail wagged, and he gave a short, deep bark.

A few moments later, I opened the door, and Michael came in with an English mastiff that was so much smaller than Baby, I might have thought her a mere puppy.

For a few short moments, chaos ensued. Baby leapt in the air, and the two dogs greeted each other with barks, butt sniffs, and a rousing game of chase. We watched the happy reunion.

Baby bounced up and down and playfully nipped at Daisy’s ears until she chased him through the kitchen, around the dining room, and back through the kitchen.

I picked up my phone and snapped a few pictures.

#EnglishMastiffsAtPlay #IHeartEnglishMastiffs #Baby-FindsTrueLove

Eventually, the two dogs tired, and after downing a bowl of water, Daisy climbed on Baby’s bed and made herself comfortable.

That broke the spell, and I leaned over and kissed Michael. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He grinned. “Although, I think Trooper Bob was even more grateful than you.”

I raised a brow. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. When I first suggested that I should go with him to Sybil Castleton’s house, he pitched a fit.” Michael puffed out his cheeks and mimicked Trooper Bob’s accent and tone. “No way a civilian is going to interfere with my investigation. . . blah, blah, blah.”

He relaxed his cheeks and laughed. “After I mentioned that Sybil Castleton had an English mastiff that might not take kindly to strangers entering her house, he changed his mind.”

I glanced over at Daisy, who was now curled up with Baby on the dog bed. “But she’s so tiny. Surely, he wasn’t afraid of a sweet girl like that?”

“I might have exaggerated a bit.”

“Exaggerated how?” Leroy asked. “She may not be as big as Baby, but she’s still a big dog.”

“I know that. And you know that. But Trooper Bob had never seen her.”

April sat on the ground in front of the dog bed and scratched Daisy’s ears.

“But she’s such a sweetie.”

“She’s sweet now, but I can tell you when Trooper Bob got to Sybil Castleton’s house, she was not the pussycat you see before you.”

I glanced at Daisy, meekly lying in the dog bed with Baby curled up beside her. An image of a different Baby came to mind. Instead of my gentle giant resting with his head on Daisy’s backside, a vision of a fierce beast came to mind. Teeth bared. Drool drooping from the sides of his mouth like foam, and a look in his eyes that meant death. I’d only seen that side of Baby once while he leapt to my defense. I shivered. “What happened?”

“I went in first. Fortunately, I keep a towel in the trunk for drool remediation, and it had Baby’s scent. I grabbed it and prayed she would remember me. She barked a bit, but as soon as she smelled the towel, her tail started wagging, and I was able to get a leash on her and get her in my car.” He chuckled. “You should have seen the look on Trooper Bob’s face. For a split second, I was afraid Trooper Bob was going to kiss me.”

I reached up and kissed him again. “Thank you.”

He reached for me, but I sidestepped. We had business to tend to.

“Now, soldier. Report.”

He snapped to attention. Clicked his heels and saluted.

I gave him a playful swat and offered him a plate of thumbprint cookies, which he quickly grabbed. He shoveled about half a dozen in his mouth, quickly chewed, and washed them down with cup of tea that Leroy poured for him.

“Trooper Bob doesn’t really think that April or I murdered Sybil Castleton, does he?” I asked.

He glanced sideways at April and took another sip of tea. He inclined his head toward me. “I don’t think he believes you did it, although for some reason, he really wants it to be you.”

I smiled.

“I assured him that apart from your trip to the ladies’ room, you weren’t out of my sight long enough to have murdered Sybil Castleton.”

“Well, that’s something,” I said.

“So, he believes the two murders are connected?” April asked.

Michael nodded. “He does, but he doesn’t know what the connection is yet. But New Bison is too small to have two suspicious murders within days of each other that aren’t connected, unless there’s a serial killer on the loose.”

“He can’t believe that. There’s no indication that there’s some crazed maniac roaming the streets of New Bison.”

“I don’t think he believes it. But he hasn’t found the connection yet.”

“What about the conversation Maddy overheard?” Leroy said. “Surely, that links the Castleton woman to Davenport.”

“Look, he wasn’t confiding his deepest thoughts to me. He knows I’m Team Maddy. I think he just wanted to get me alone to see if my story lined up with Maddy’s before we had time to compare notes. Although, I did find out one thing.”

“What?” I asked.

“I found out who Sybil Castleton was meeting at the wine tasting.”

“Who?”

“Trooper Bob.”