Brownies & Betrayal (Sweet Bites Mysteries, Book 1) (24 page)

Bronson’s grandmother loves shortbread, but is allergic to cherries. Instead I put in craisins and replaced the cherry flavoring with vanilla.

Later that afternoon, I went to Honey’s to drop off photocopies of my family pictures for Chance. “I think we need to find out who Valerie called before she died. I’m sure the police know, but maybe they missed something. You have the account information for her cell phone, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Honey went to grab her purse, then fished around for the paper she’d written on. “Here it is, though I don’t know what good it’ll do you without the passwords. Oh wait, never mind—you know a guy, right?”

“You got it.” I didn’t want to risk Lenny getting caught, but he was our best bet right now. “I’ll call him and see what he can scrape up.”

“We’re running out of options, aren’t we?”

“For sure. Oh, and let me tell you what I learned about my little paint vandal.” I filled her in on my discovery and the confrontation with Bronson. She was the only person in the world I could be totally honest with about my feelings. “Even after everything we’ve been through and what he’s done to try to get me back, he didn’t really care about our relationship—he was following Grandma’s orders.” I wondered how long that would make my chest ache and my eyes sting with unshed tears. Too long. He wasn’t worth my pain and anger, but I knew it would take time anyway.

“That little weasel. If I see him again, I won’t be nearly so diplomatic.” Honey’s face pinched until she looked meaner than I’d ever seen her.

I lifted my brows. “Really?” I couldn’t imagine her laying into anyone; she was too polite for that. Then again, I remembered her whaling on her brother after he pulled a particularly nasty trick on us when we were thirteen. Maybe she still had it in her.

“Of course, really. You have to think that the moment you got back to Chicago with him he would start making eyes at some other woman. Maybe not Karen, but someone.”

I slumped against the wall. “That’s what kept holding me back. I couldn’t take it again, and I don’t want to try trusting him.” I wouldn’t mention that I had been softening toward him. It was too humiliating. What kind of masochist was I?

“You don’t seem to have a problem trusting Shawn.” Honey nudged me with her elbow “What was with that kiss?”

I felt my face heat and imagined I was roughly the color of a tomato. “Shawn’s different.” Oh, was Shawn ever different from Bronson.

“I see.” Her grin was more than a little sly.

I hit her arm with the back of my hand. “No, I mean he’s different because I’m not serious about him. We’re just having fun together. If he turned around and started kissing some other woman I wouldn’t love it, but I wouldn’t feel betrayed.” He was a good guy, and I was glad he was there for me, but I didn’t see a real relationship in our future. If he lived closer I doubt I would have let things get so interesting. I wasn’t ready to try trusting again.

“It’s a shame he’s working on the border, isn’t it? But I guess I know what you mean. You’re not looking for strings.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Too bad, really. He’s such a hottie!”

I decided to ignore that last comment and changed the subject. “I have to make a run to Prescott to pick up some supplies and thought I’d drop by Jeff’s office to see what I can glean. You up for a run to the city?”

“Yeah. Meet you at your place in an hour. I’ll bring Zoey. Your car or mine?”

“Mine. More room to stow stuff in the back.” And as I needed to do some major shopping, space was important.

I headed out the door and almost reached my car before my phone rang again. This time it was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Shawn. I have to leave tomorrow, but I wondered if you’d like to do something tonight.”

I smiled. Yes, I was sorry he was leaving so soon. His call was welcome after the situation with Bronson. “How do you feel about dancing?”

“Are you talking about going to The Silver Spur, or did you want to go into Prescott for something a little more rock-ish?”

“The Silver Spur, of course.”

He chuckled. “There’s no ‘of course’ about it with you, Tess. You have so many layer—you’re always surprising me. That sounds like fun. What time?”

Layers
?
He thinks I have layers?
The thought that I intrigued him pleased me. “I’m not sure. Honey and I are going into Prescott to pick up some supplies. I’ll call when I get back.”

“Sounds great.”

It had been a while since I’d spent any real time in Prescott. Either my memory was bad or there had been a lot of new construction. We’d already made two stops and I had purchased a plethora of cake pans, oodles of decorating equipment, heavy-bottomed pans, a double boiler and other supplies.

Piles of gleaming purchases were crammed in the back of my Outlander, and I couldn’t wait to unpack them all and revel in their shiny newness. I was already thinking about stacking them away on their shelves and cupboards. 

Jeff’s law office was in a large brick building, but didn’t appear to share space with any other companies. My first impression was of success and opulence as we crossed thick carpeting and passed mahogany furniture to the reception desk, where a man spoke to someone on his headset and typed at the same time. He glanced up, lifting a finger to indicate we should wait.

He finished the phone call a minute or so later and made a few final clicks on his computer before turning his brown eyes on us. “Hello, ladies. What can I do for you?”

“We wondered if Jeff Calhoon is available for a few minutes.”

“Let me check.” He pushed one of the dozens of buttons on his phone and paused. “There are some clients in the front office who’d like to speak with Mr. Calhoon. Does he have a few minutes?” After another pause he looked at me. “She said you can go on through. Do you know the way?”

“No. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

He told us which route to take and we thanked him. We rode an elevator to the next floor and I was surprised to find the second level as polished and lovely as the first. I had convinced myself that it wouldn’t be, that lower-rung attorneys, like Jeff would have to make do with less fancy digs, but it appeared that the bosses at Marks, Marks, & Walton liked outward signs of success.

 A woman in her fifties wearing a blue dress suit and bifocals greeted us. I realized as I entered the reception area, she appeared to be the secretary for several attorneys as I could see three doors with names on them going down the hall, as well as a small conference room with the door wide open to my right. “Hello. Are you here to see Mr. Calhoon?”

“Yes. Does he have a minute?”

“Let me make sure he’s not on the phone. What were your names?” She stood gracefully and I realized she was quite tall. She had several inches on me, in any case.

We gave her our names, and she entered the second door after a brief knock. Perhaps thirty seconds passed before she came back. “He said he’ll see you now.” She gestured to the open door.

Jeff sat behind an enormous table, not a desk, which surprised me, but a credenza and several legal file drawers ranged behind him. The table held only a lamp, his laptop, a stack of files and a can of pens in various colors. The main phone was behind him. He stood when we walked in. “Ladies, what can I do for you?” He studied me. “Do you need business advice already?”

I hoped I never needed
that
kind of advice. “No. Actually, we have a few questions, if you can spare a minute.”

“What about?” He gestured to the overstuffed chairs across from him and took one of them. Honey set Zoey on her lap and handed the gabby toddler a toy.

I was glad he was being direct. It made it much easier for me to be the same. “It’s about Valerie. I know you didn’t get along well, but I wondered if there was more you can tell me about her.”

His expression was inscrutable. “I thought after you were attacked that you’d stop poking around.”

I grew alert. The gossip had made its way to him here? How did he know about that? “You heard?’

He steepled his fingers on his lap. “Yes, I spoke with Shawn yesterday. He’s worried about you.”

Of course he’d spoken with Shawn; they had spent a lot of time together this week. “That’s very sweet of him, and of you, but I’m fine. I don’t think my attacker wanted me dead, just to scare me.” Of course, I was still sore and the bruises and scrapes would take a while yet to heal completely, but who was I to quibble?

“Apparently it didn’t work.” He leaned forward in his chair, making him look earnest. “I really wish you’d leave it to the authorities. Once the person has killed, there’s nothing to stop him or her from doing it again.” His face held worry—for me, I thought. I’d hoped to see an indication that he was guilty, but saw no hint that he was concealing anything.

“I’ll be more careful. Thanks for your concern.”

His mouth thinned, as if my answer didn’t please him. “Back to the murder, since I really don’t have much time,” he said. “You’re still looking for the killer, and you wonder if it’s me.” He picked up a pen and flipped it end over end, seeming to consider for a long moment. “You can take me off your list because I wasn’t alone that night.”

That was a surprise. “I thought you didn’t have an alibi.” Why hadn’t he mentioned it earlier?

His eyes skittered away from mine, settling on his hands. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason the police haven’t been poking at me, don’t you think? I had more reason to want her dead than you did.” He set the pen back on the table as his cell phone rang. He glanced at it, pushed a button to silence it and put it aside again. 

“True. But if you weren’t at the hotel, where were you?”

He cleared his throat. “I was at the hotel, just not in my own room. I was with someone.” He said it as if he were ashamed, like he’d picked up some random woman on the corner, which I totally didn’t buy. He wouldn’t have kept it a secret if there wasn’t a good reason.

“You were?” I tried to make it sound like I didn’t believe him, and maybe I didn’t.

His gaze slid between Honey and myself. “You have to promise not to tell, because we haven’t told anyone about our relationship yet. But I was with Janice.”

I felt my eyes bug out. “Janice, Tad’s sister? Have you been together long?” I let my innate curiosity get the best of me. I’d paid attention to both of them during the reception, or so I’d thought, and hadn’t noticed a single indication that there was anything between them—a scowl, maybe. Of course, I wasn’t looking for those kinds of signals.

“A while. Anyway, that’s why Detective Tingey left me alone.” He lifted his hands in dismissal.

“Thanks for telling us.” I looked at Honey for confirmation of what I was about to say. “You can count on us to be discreet.”

“Oh, of course,” Honey said, though I could tell she was bursting to dissect it with me. “We’ll let the two of you bring that up when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” His cell phone started to ring again. “Is there anything else?”

“No, I guess that’s all that we need. Thanks.” I stood and Honey followed suit. We hurried out to the SUV and slid inside.

“I can’t believe he was with Janice,” Honey said as soon as she had the baby buckled in and had taken her own seat.

“I know—they’re so different. Seriously, she’s kind of flaky, and he’s…”

“Very together. Maybe they complement each other?” She put on her seatbelt.

“I guess.” I put the car into gear. “So that’s a dead end. Now what?”

“Home to check on the kids and a strategy session.”

Since I had an interesting date planned with Shawn, I decided her suggestion was spot on.