Baking is Murder (A Bee's Bakehouse Cozy Mystery) (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

“Come on. I’ll give you a ride back into town.”

Kyle hesitated for a moment before walking in the direction of the cruiser. His friends had all vanished back up the driveway. The guy with the sign was dragging it along the muddy road, clearly no longer interested in protesting.

Jessie herself felt hesitant too—she stared longingly at the farm store, wondering if there was any way she could sneak back to the Sweet’s door and make some excuse to try their delicious cheeses.

“Come on, Ms. Henderson.”

Jessie sighed and rushed across the driveway, taking care not to let mud splatter up her jeans.

“Climb in the back, kid.”

Kyle frowned. “Am I under arrest?”

The chief laughed. “Not yet. No, I’m just running you back into town. If your answers are helpful then you’re free to go.”

Kyle swallowed audibly and climbed into the back. The chief slammed the door closed behind him and winked at Jessie who was waiting by the passenger door.

***

“Where were you on Wednesday night?”

Kyle opened his mouth and then froze.

“Well?”

“I… I don’t…. Um…”

“Where were you?” the chief repeated.

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t remember. At Lucas’ I guess? Or Marty’s?”

“Lucas or Marty be able to confirm that?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.”

Chief Daly glanced at Jessie before looking back at Kyle in the rearview mirror. “How do you know Lydia Mackenzie?”

Jessie turned around in her seat and watched his reaction. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or whether his face actually flushed at the mention of the victim’s name.

“I didn’t.”

“
Didn’t
?”

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t know her.”

The chief stared at him intently for a moment before appearing to drop the issue.

“How about Clarice Jackson?”

Kyle shook his head and pursed his lips. “Nope. Don’t know her either.”

Jessie turned and stared at the chief, desperate to point out the inconsistency. But he didn’t appear to have noticed. He pulled up to the curb.

“There you go, son. No more trespassing now, you hear?”

Kyle nodded mutely. He burst from the car as soon as the chief opened the rear door for him.

Chief Daly climbed back into the car and turned on the engine. They say in silence for a couple minutes.

“Spit it out,” he said at last.

Jessie shifted in her seat so she was facing him. “You noticed the way he said he
didn’t
know Lydia? Wasn’t that strange?”

The chief shrugged noncommittally.

“But it was, right? He didn’t say that about Clarice.” Jessie was getting excited just thinking about it. Sure, the kid hadn’t seemed like a cold-blooded killer, but he’d lied to them. That had to count for something.

“He didn’t,” the chief said thoughtfully. “That is true.”

Jessie turned around and stared out the rear window. Kyle had already disappeared from view. She frowned. “Why haven’t you arrested him?”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that he lied about knowing Lydia.”

Chief Daly sighed. “That doesn’t make him a murderer, Jessie. Think about it. We have more evidence on Clarice Jackson than we do on Kyle Weathers. And you’d have me arrest him?”

“No, I guess not. It’s just…”

The chief smiled kindly. “I’ll have one of the guys check out his alibis. If they don’t check out I’ll look into it further.”

Jessie was about to protest but she stopped herself. The whole thing was making her tired. She had been so convinced that Kyle was the real suspect, but now…

She climbed out of the car. “Thanks, Chief. I appreciate you checking it out.”

She turned and walked in the direction of the café, telling herself to stop thinking about it. She struggled, though—all she could think about was the look on Kyle’s face when he heard Lydia’s name.

Jessie looked up as the bell over the door rang. “Morning Julia,” she smiled.

Julia beamed back. “Morning Jessie. I must say, I’ve been looking forward to one of your aunt’s cream donuts all morning.”

“One of those days, huh?”

Julia’s expression darkened for just a moment before returning to normal. “I shouldn’t complain. Can I also have a large coffee, please?”

“Certainly,” Jessie said, not wanting to pry into her new friend’s business. “You want a large or one of these new twenty ounce cups I’ve just ordered?”

Julia’s eyes widened. “Do you have to ask?” she laughed.

It was just after the morning rush. Jessie served up the biggest donut from the cabinet and walked around the counter, leaving her Bee’s Bakehouse apron on in case a customer came in and she had to serve them.

“Here you are, Julia.”

Julia smiled as Jessie put the cake on the table and bustled away to get their coffees.

“It’s so nice having you here, Jessie. I enjoy our chats and coffees in the mornings and it’s good that your aunt gets some time away from the café as well. Why, she asked me if I wanted to go for a walk by the river later. I’ve never been able to convince her to do that on a weekday before. It’s always been purchase orders this or taxes that.”

Jessie smiled. The idea that she was some small help to her aunt filled her with pleasure. “It’s so lovely to be here. Well, apart from all this nasty business with Clarice. I’ll be glad when this is all over and the town can get back to normal, like I remember it from when I was a child.”

Julia’s lips pursed. “By getting back to normal, you mean Clarice gets sent away to jail and the county sells her property?”

Jessie spluttered on milk foam. “No, of course not,” she hissed, frowning. “I mean when Clarice gets out and they jail whoever actually did this.” She didn’t mention anything about their mission to Sweet Home Farm the day before, knowing the chief wouldn’t waste any time announcing that they’d caught the real killer once he’d investigated the Weathers kid.

Julia twisted her fingers around her cup. “I wish I could be that enthusiastic, dear.”

Jessie looked at her watch, confused. It was almost eleven. The chief hadn’t mentioned anything the day before and she hadn’t wanted to pry. But it was almost two days since he agreed to have a doctor examine Clarice. Jessie didn’t know how long the tests might take or what they involved. Nor did she want to reveal Clarice’s secret, even to someone who was quickly becoming a friend.

“I’m sure she’ll get out soon.”

Julia shook her head sadly. “I wish I had your optimism. No, I spoke to her attorney this morning. She was very distressed. Apparently the cops have some new evidence in the case against her. She’s adamant it has nothing to do with her, of course.”

Jessie dropped her cup with a clatter. “New evidence?”

Julia nodded, forking a huge chunk of donut. The seconds it took her to finish it were agony for Jessie. She hoped—no, prayed—that she’d misheard her new friend. It soon became clear that she hadn’t.

“Mmm, that really is fabulous. If I ever leave Springdale, the first thing I’m packing is Bee Martin.”

Any other time, Jessie would have smiled happily and basked in the love Springdale had for her aunt’s baking. This time, though, she could barely force herself to nod in acknowledgment before she asked about the evidence.

“Oh, I don’t know, dear. Something about a letter?”

Jessie shook her head.

Julia must have seen the agitation on her face. She reached for her hands, a concerned look on her ruddy face. “What is it, Jessie? You seem to be taking this rather hard. Harder than the rest of us.”

Jessie shrugged. “I just… It’s hard to sit by when you’re convinced someone’s innocent.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

Jessie bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted so much to share what she’d learned with Julia. She knew that might help her unravel some thread of information that she’d missed. She realized she was holding her breath and released it in a short sharp burst.

“I can’t say,” she said apologetically. “It’s not my place to share it. Do you know what I mean?”

Julia smiled and nodded. “I think I do. Now is there anything I can do to help that doesn’t involve you revealing a secret?”

“Actually, there might be,” Jessie said, pulling off her apron and nodded guiltily. She tried to remind herself that these were exceptional circumstances and shirking could be excused when someone’s liberty was at stake. Still, though, she felt guilty rushing out the door and leaving Julia in charge until Tania came back from her morning break.

Julia said there was new evidence,” Jessie said, roaring past Chief Daly’s secretary for what felt like the hundredth time that week.

This time, the chief looked more resigned than bemused. “What is it now, Jessie? My goodness, you’re so like your aunt it’s terrifying.”

Jessie plonked down in the visitor’s chair in front of his desk. “Chief, I’m terribly sorry for acting like this. Believe me when I tell you it’s out of character. But after our conversation the other day, I would have thought Clarice Jackson might have been released by now. Or at least moved to a secure wing in a hospital.”

Chief Daly threw his hands in the air. “This isn’t a big town, Jessie. Our hospital is lucky if they’ve got enough beds in the ER. There are no secure wings.”

Jessie sighed. “How long is it going to take to get the test results back? And what’s this about a letter?”

The Chief’s expression darkened. “You know I can’t go telling you about evidence in an ongoing investigation, don’t you?”

Jessie shrugged. “Okay, that’s fine. But you can tell me how long it’s going to take for the test results to come through, right? After all, I was the one that suggested them and I—”

The chief sighed. “There are no test results.”

“She tested negative?” Jessie said, sitting forward.

“There was no test,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She refused to submit to one.”

“Even though she knew it might clear her?”

“Jessie—”

“Why would she refuse? Did you speak to her doctor?”

He shook his head.

Jessie buried her head in her hands. “Her attorney?”

The chief sighed. “She’s hired some guy from Dukefield. Couldn’t defend a mouse from a kitten.”

“Well then. How do we know she even knows that admitting to her illness might be the thing that clears her?”

He shrugged. “You’re putting me in an awkward position, Jessie. I can’t very well sit down with all my suspects and give them step-by-step guidance on how to walk free.”

“But if her attorney isn’t helping her…”

“There’s not a lot I can do. I care about her as much as you do, Jessie, but my job is to uphold the law.”

That was it—there was no other option. “I need to see her,” Jessie said, jumping to her feet.

Chief Daly shook his head. “Now why do you want to do that? I can’t have you going in there and blowing my investigation.”

“No, chief, I’m not trying to ruin your investigation. But what’s the harm in trying to convince her to take those tests, huh?”

His eyes narrowed.

“Please. I just…” Jessie shook her head. She didn’t fully understand the reason for her involvement either. “She seems like a nice lady. I just want to help.”

“Fine,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Just don’t go telling her she’ll get out if she takes those tests, you hear? Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Oh thank you chief, thank you! I won’t take long.”

***

If Clarice had been glum before, she was positively miserable now.

“I don’t know how much longer I can stay here.”

Jessie forced a smile, trying not to get discouraged by the gray surroundings and Clarice’s hollow cheeks. “Clarice,” she said, sitting down in the visitor’s chair. “Why won’t you tell them what you told me? About your illness?”

The older woman’s face pinched. “It’s none of their business.”

“But what’s the harm? They can get you the treatment you need.”

“I don’t need treatment. I do my exercises and follow a strict diet. That’s worked for a lot of people.”

Jessie sighed. She could see the resolve in the other woman’s eyes. She didn’t want to break her promise to Chief Daly, but she didn’t see how she was going to get through this. “Please,” she said. “The jury might be more sympathetic if they know you’re sick.”

Clarice’s face fell. “I don’t want anyone’s sympathy. I just want to go home.”

Jessie took a deep breath and stared in dismay at Clarice’s shaking hands. If only she knew how important that test was. She shook her head. What she’d give to be more persuasive.

“Look, Clarice,” she said slowly, leaning across the table and channeling the voice her mom had used when she’d wanted her to tidy up or do her homework. She hated doing this, but she had no other choice. She just hoped Clarice would understand that her intentions were good. “You can’t just think of yourself. I’ve been taking care of your gorgeous pugs. What’s going to happen to them if you’re in prison for fifteen years? I know you’re a private person, but please just consider it. The jury will be more sympathetic if they know you’re unwell. And that means you’ll get to see your animals sooner.”

Clarice’s eyes welled up at the mention of her beloved dogs, and Jessie wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. She knew by now that Clarice’s animals were far more than just her livelihood—they were her family. The woman had pictures of them on her walls.

“You’ll think about it?” Jessie said softly.

Clarice nodded, her face contorting and growing wet with tears.

Hating herself, Jessie pushed herself up and began to move to the door. She stopped dead and spun around. The chief had barred her from discussing the details of the case, but he hadn’t told her not to ask questions.

“Clarice,” she said, moving back to the table and glancing over her shoulder in case anyone was listening. “What evidence do they have against you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how they got it. I don’t. They say they found it in my house, but I don’t know how it got there. I own one, but it’s kept outside and I haven’t used it in years. I have a maintenance guy who comes and helps whenever I want to make improvements to the kennels. And that letter they found? I had nothing to do with that. Lydia Mackenzie and I weren’t what you’d call friends, but I didn’t hate her. I certainly didn’t kill her.”

Jessie frowned, nodding. “Letter?” she said slowly.

Clarice’s eyes welled up again. Jessie swallowed, reminding herself she was trying to help. Not that it felt like that—she had a gnawing pit of dread in her stomach that bubbled with accusation. She was a busy-body, she knew. This was none of her business.

Suddenly Clarice slammed her shaking hands on the table. “Why would I say those things to her? Why? I didn’t hate her. Sure, we were competitors, but I’ve been in this business a long time. You think I can’t handle a little competition?”

“What did it say? What were those things?” Jessie’s voice was almost inaudible now, she was so ashamed of herself for probing the other woman when she had no official sanction to do so. But something compelled her to go on.

Clarice closed her eyes and sucked in her cheeks. “Horrible things. Horrible things that I supposedly wrote to Lydia.”