Brownies & Betrayal (Sweet Bites Mysteries, Book 1) (26 page)

“You may be right there.” His fingers tapped on the steering wheel, his face a study in thought. “The thing is, I like you, and I enjoy spending time with you. Nogales isn’t exactly next door.”

“I know. And I’m going to be honest—while I’ve had a great time with you, I’ve only been unengaged for two weeks and I’m not ready for a new relationship.” I studied his profile for a moment. He was so gorgeous. And strong. And sweet. “If I were looking for a rebound relationship, though, you’d be my first choice.”

His smile broadened. “What, no declaring your undying devotion? I’m only good enough for a rebound guy? I’m hurt.”

“No, you’re not.” And though I would miss him, I found I wasn’t upset that he wouldn’t be nearby, that it could be months before I saw him again. There would be lingering pain over Bronson’s betrayals, but I thought I could live with them, too. “And I’ll admit, flirting with you has made this whole thing with Bronson easier, so thanks.”

Shawn parked the car behind my building. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“I’m starting to think you’re right.” And eventually I’d be able to say that without a little ache in my chest. I decided that was more than enough seriousness. “Do you make it back here often?”

“Not as often as I’d like. But if you agree to see me again some time, I think I might find a way to work it into my schedule.” His eyes lingered on mine, making me warm inside.

“In that case, I’ll expect to see you knocking on my door, or better yet, coming in for a cupcake or something, before the summer’s over.” I’d miss him, and definitely looked forward to seeing him again down the road—when my brain had calmed and the business was established.

He came around to open the door for me, offering me his assistance to stand. “How soon do you think you’ll be able to open?”

“Before Easter, with any luck. I’ve got equipment and supplies coming in from all over, and I have another wedding cake scheduled.” The thought filled me with glee, even if it would be simple by my usual standards. There was nothing wrong with simple, and the most minimal cakes had their own built-in trials.

“Already? I have the feeling you’ll hit it big here.”

We reached the top of the stairs and I unlocked the door, but didn’t open it, then turned to face him. “Travel safe.” I couldn’t help lifting my hand to run my fingertips over his cheek. His face was still smooth from his evening shave.

He caught my hand and held it there. “I will. You take care of yourself. It’s become a dangerous world since you stepped into Silver Springs.” He tipped his head to brush his lips against my palm, though he didn’t take his eyes off mine.

I felt that little shiver of anticipation that usually precedes a first kiss. Strange, considering he’d already kissed me several times. “It seems like that, doesn’t it? And I always thought of Silver Springs as such a safe haven.”

Shawn stopped my words by pressing his lips to mine. There was no bitter sweetness, no promises of see you later, but it wasn’t exactly goodbye, either. When he lifted his mouth, I knew I would see him again, and I looked forward to it.

I reached for the door handle behind me, twisted it and stepped back into my apartment. “See you.”

His eyes were still on mine. “See you.”

I turned to face my apartment and sucked in a breath of surprise. “Holy crap.” Chaos. Pictures were off the walls, the knickknacks off the tables and shelves, several were broken and my grandma’s CD collection was scattered across the floor.

Shawn only took one retreating step before he paused. “What?” He saw the mess in the apartment, swore and pushed past me.

I didn’t know what to say, but though I may still have been in shock, Shawn didn’t seem hampered by the same problem. He whipped out his cell phone and called the police. For the third time that week, they responded to my house.

“This is getting to be a habit,” Detective Tingey said when he arrived at my front door.

“It’s not
my
habit,” I assured him. “It’s something about this town.”

“You say that, but you’re the only one having continuous problems.” He wrote in his notebook, then looked back at me, his expression apologetic. “I thought this would stop when we arrested Millie.”

“Me too. Kinda makes me wonder if maybe she’s only guilty of stealing the necklace,” I said. He had to be thinking it too.

He nodded, though he didn’t appear to like what I’d said. “Yes. Other than the window, these incidents and the murder all appear to be connected.”

“Yes, they do.” At least, I hoped they were connected. The thought of two more people out to get me was too much to deal with at the moment. Of course, we’d thought the window vandalism was connected too, at first.

“And do I take it from the fact that your apartment is trashed that you haven’t backed down?” His expression was bland and it was clear he already knew the answer, but waited to hear it from me.

I fought not to squirm. “I suppose you can.”

“Have you learned anything
else
I should know?” Detective Tingey tapped his pen on the top of the notebook.

I considered telling him about Dahlia’s true paternity, but it was still speculation, though it would explain a lot. I decided it wasn’t relevant, and shook my head. When I had real answers for him, I’d tell him.

His brows lifted in doubt. “I don’t know that I believe you.” He sighed. “Tell me what happened here.”

I told him, Shawn told him, they took pictures and I sorted through things. As far as I could tell, nothing had been stolen, but Detective Tingey said to make a list of the damaged or missing items.

Shawn stayed to help me put things mostly to rights in the living room and kitchen—I didn’t let him into my bedroom. “You gonna be okay here?” he asked when he stood at the door to leave again. “I could bunk on the couch, if you’re worried.”

The couch would be insanely uncomfortable for someone his size, so the image made me smile despite the situation. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for sticking around.”

“No problem. Take care of yourself, and
use
your deadbolt, will you?”

“Yes,” I promised, feeling my face heat with embarrassment and consternation.

He bent his head and brushed his lips over mine in farewell, then left with a wave.

When I had double-checked the locks, I picked up my cell phone and dialed a Chicago number. Despite the ridiculously late hour there, I knew Lenny was a night owl, so he should be up. “Hey, Lenny, it’s Tess. I have a favor to ask,” I greeted him after he answered his phone. I pulled the tiny note from my pocket. “I have a cell phone number and need you to see if you can find out the calls from last Friday.” When he said he was ready, I rattled it off.

“Twice in one week. What’s this all about? You’re not trying to get me in trouble, are you?” he asked.

“No way. I just need your mad computer skills. This is for the murder again. I wondered who she talked to last.” I dug into my cupboard, way too upset to go to bed after the break-in. Maybe a soothing cup of chamomile tea? The bags were left over from my grandmother, but I decided not to worry about how old they were—I needed something, and it was far too late for a cup of coffee if I was going to sleep before three.

“What’s it to you? She a friend of yours?” His thick Bronx accent made me feel like I was home.

“No, it’s complicated.” After I filled the teapot and put it on to heat, I lined flour, eggs, sugar and butter on the counter, then double-checked to make sure I still had whipping cream and cream cheese in the fridge. I was set.

“Maybe it’s better if I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll check into this after I catch a few Zs. I’ll call you tomorrow with results, if that’s okay?”

“Perfect. You’re the best.” I put the butter and water in a saucepan to heat.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that, but it’s DeMille’s ring you accepted. I see how it works.” He was such a shameless flirt.

I tried to keep my voice light as I measured out my flour and set it aside. “There’s no risk that I’ll be wearing it ever again.” Not after everything the creep pulled.

The sound of the elevated train clattered in the background. “I thought he was romancing you this week to bring you back here.”

I started cracking eggs into a bowl. “He tried. I can’t do it, though. It was time I realized what a jerk he is.” I whipped the eggs with fury. Some piece of my subconscious must have known all along—he’d been cajoling me into the engagement for months before I accepted.

“Way past time. Your business out there is gonna do awesome. Everyone will love your desserts. Oh, Kat’s calling through. I’ll get back to you tomorrow with that info.”

I thought of the tattooed, pierced and bleached-hair Lenny with sweet, mousy little Kat. They were an odd couple. “Thanks, Lenny. I owe you one.”

It came in handy sometimes, having friends with certain skill sets. Whomever Valerie called, they were likely responsible for her death, or at the very least, the last person to talk to her.

I’d had enough of this game and wanted some answers. I knew there was no way Detective Tingey would share with me.

When the flour was mixed thoroughly, I added the eggs to it a little at a time, blending them in until the dough was more like a batter. Had Millie torn apart my apartment tonight, or had it been someone else? And why? Were they looking for something, or just bent on destruction? Would I survive this investigation—because slashed tires, personal attacks and break-ins aside, I was getting very tired of working to get my business up and running while trying to find a murderer.

I filled a pastry bag with a large round tip and piped the éclairs onto a cookie sheet before sliding them into the oven.

I looked at the clock. It was late. I needed to talk to someone, but was it fair to wake Honey up? I considered for a moment before sending a text. You up?

A minute later, as I started mixing milk into my softened cream cheese, my phone rang. I snatched it up. “Hey, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” Honey said. “Zoey’s cutting teeth again. She’s been fussing for the past half hour.” The sounds of a crying baby came through the phone to verify Honey’s story. “What’s going on? How was the date with hunky Shawn?”

I grinned. “It was great. Seriously great. Well, until we got back here.” I started whipping in the pudding mix.

“Did you fight?”

I filled her in on my newest excitement. “I have a couple of theories I want to pass by you.”

A giant yawning sound came across the phone line, and I realized Zoey had stopped crying. Honey spoke again. “She’s finally asleep. Give me a minute while I put her down. I’ll call back.”

I agreed and set aside the filling. It was perfect. I scrubbed the original pan—I really needed to bring my nice set from Chicago—and tossed in chopped chocolate, water, heavy cream and a little vanilla.

The phone rang and I picked it up. “I’m back,” Honey said when I answered. “So are you cleaning your place tonight or taking it easy?”

“Neither. I needed some éclairs. You care to come over in the morning and join me for a treat?”

“For your éclairs, I’d get dressed and come over now,” she said through her yawn.

“Yeah, because you’re not tired at all, are you? How about if you pop over when you get the kids running for the day and we can finish this chat. You need your beauty sleep.” I’d been making too many demands on her time this week—something I seriously needed to consider in the future.

“Thanks. I love it when you imply I look like the walking dead.”

“No problem. Any time. Rest so you’ll look like that fresh-faced teen so many people mistake you for.”

She laughed and said goodnight.

I continued stirring the chocolate sauce until it came to a boil, then turned off the heat and checked on the éclairs. I knew precisely how long it took to bake the shells to perfection at work and at my condo in Chicago. Since I was still learning the quirks of Grandma’s oven, I pulled one of the browning pastries from the baking sheet and thumped the bottom. Not quite ready. I put it back and set a timer to remind me again in a couple of minutes.

I looked over the living room, and the items the intruder had pulled from my kitchen cupboards. Cans and boxes were jumbled on the table where I’d stashed them while I cooked. The whole apartment would need a thorough cleaning in the morning, but since the kitchen mess drove me the most nuts, I started on it while the éclairs finished baking and cooled for filling.