Murder By Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 4 (3 page)

Marilyn sighed and rolled her eyes when the bell over the door to the shop jangled and her creepy next door neighbor Tim Eckels came in, carrying a Key Lime pie. Her beloved neighbor, Madge, had moved to California a few months ago and rented her lovely little cottage to Tim. He seemed mostly harmless, but gave her the creeps, and had been subtly hostile ever since she had refused to hire him as a backup baker in her shop.

“Good morning,” the sandy-haired, pudgy man with coke-bottle glasses said without even a hint of a smile. His flat affectation was disconcerting, but Marilyn had mostly grown accustomed to it. He had retired from being a mortician before coming to live in Florida, and she couldn’t help but think that the job must’ve suited his “grave” manner well.

“Hello Tim, what can I do for you?” she asked politely.

“Well, you could have hired me, but you didn’t, so I brought you this pie so that you could see what you’re missing,” he said, setting what looked like a perfect Key Lime pie on the counter in front of her. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe, try it,” he pushed it toward her.

“Tim, I told you, we already hired another baker. We’re fully staffed now,” Marilyn reminded him firmly.

“You should still try it,” he insisted.

A thought occurred to Marilyn. “Hey, Tim, this must’ve been pretty expensive to make. Where did you even find the limes? Most places around here are sold out,” she observed.

The neighbor’s eyes widened behind his glasses, making him look bug-eyed. “The store,” he replied, looking uncomfortable.

“Which one? I might want to check out available supplies,” she leaned forward expectantly.

“I’m…I have to…I gotta go,” he stammered, turning and heading for the door. “Eat the pie, it’s good,” he said, raising a hand in farewell and closing the door behind him.

“What was that all about,” Tiara asked, coming out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

“I think we may have found our lime thief,” Marilyn mused, watching her neighbor disappear out of sight.

“Really,” her daughter asked, skeptical. “He doesn’t seem to be smart enough to steal something and not get caught.”

“Sometimes looks can be deceiving,” she remarked, dialing Detective Cortland’s number.

When Marilyn called to tell Bernard about her strange experience with her odd neighbor, the detective asked if she’d heard from Carlos Mechago.

“No, I haven’t, why?” she asked.

“He’s not answering his phone. I left messages, stopped by his warehouse, and dropped by his residence. No one seems to know where he is, and several of his clients have reported thefts yesterday and today,” the detective explained. “If you hear from him, would you please let him know that I’d like to speak with him?”

“Of course,” Marilyn promised. “Are you going to talk to Tim Eckels?”

“I’ll pay him a visit today,” Bernard replied, sounding tired.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” she said, hanging up.

Marilyn was baffled. She felt very strongly that Carlos had nothing to do with the theft or the murder of Pedro. The man may play hardball when it came to negotiating, but he’d always been honest and above-board with her. Tiara was convinced that Drew had nothing to do with Pedro’s death, and her mother was more than inclined to agree, despite her reservations about the older man dating her daughter. She’d also had the distinct impression that Bernard didn’t seem at all convinced that Tim Eckels was worth investigating.

When she thought about it, the theft of her limes and the death of Pedro were most likely not related at all, and trying to tie the two together may cause them all to miss something important. She resolved to follow her own advice and let the police handle the murder – as long as Tiara wasn’t suspected of anything, there was no reason for Marilyn to concern herself with it – and she’d continue to brainstorm about who might have stolen her limes.

She gazed down at the pie that Tim Eckels had left on her counter, wondering if he had done anything sinister to it. She picked it up and sniffed it – it smelled delicious. Figuring that she was probably safe, she cut herself a piece and dug her fork into the tart, creamy treat. The pie was delightful, almost as good as hers, and she silently applauded him for the slight touch of zest that he had sprinkled over the top. If it was poisoned, at least she’d die with a smile on her face.

Marilyn headed home after a long day at the shop, excited that they’d been busy, but exhausted after having to jump through culinary hoops to come up with enough product, based upon their dwindling lime supply, to meet the needs of lime-hungry customers. When she reached the end of her driveway, she heard a grunting sound, and looked over into Tim’s yard, seeing him using a shovel in an area obscured by low-hanging tree limbs between his house and the tree line that separated her yard from his. Suspicious, she decided to take a closer look.

“Hi neighbor,” she called out, clearly startling the man. He had sweat completely through his shapeless grey polo shirt, and had streaks of dirt covering him from head to toe, his hair wild and glasses askew. When she got closer, she saw that he moved in front of what had clearly been a large hole, into which he had been shoveling dirt from a nearby pile. “Busy day?” she asked, faking a smile.

“I don’t have a job baking for you, so I have plenty of time to work in my yard,” he replied tonelessly.

Marilyn chose to overlook his observation, trying to see what he’d been working on, without being obvious about it. “You were right, the pie was delicious,” she complimented him, actually meaning it. She would wait until tomorrow to see if there were any side effects from having consumed it, and once she had verified that it was safe, she’d have another bite and offer a slice to her stressed-out daughter. She was supposed to come over for their weekly pizza and movie night, but Marilyn knew that she had an afternoon date with Drew, so who knew when, or if, she’d actually show up.

“I told you it was. My grandmother was the best,” Tim replied, leaning on his shovel and seeming slightly out of breath.

“Well, don’t work too hard,” she flashed another fake smile and turned to go.

“I would have if you had hired me,” the bitter man muttered as she walked away.

Marilyn was really creeped out by the fact that her strange neighbor was filling a very large hole next to his house, and went directly to her kitchen to peer out from between the slats of her plantation blinds to see if she could get a better view of his activities. As though he felt her gaze, Tim Eckels slowly raised his head and stared directly at the window. Ducking down, despite being almost certain that she couldn’t be seen from her vantage point, she took advantage of the opportunity to stroke Fluffy, Tiara’s rescue cat, between the ears, making the cuddly creature purr with delight. Following Detective Cortland’s instructions, she went through the entire house, after playing with the cat for a bit, making sure that every door and window was securely locked. She wasn’t typically a paranoid person, but under the circumstances, it certainly seemed prudent to be careful.

The weary pie shop owner had just changed into her favorite kitten-grey yoga pants and a floppy orange t-shirt and curled up on the couch with a most-appreciative Fluffy, when she and the cat were startled by a noise at the front door. Marilyn sat up, listening, and Fluffy followed her gaze, staring at the front door, ears twitching. Jumping like she’d been shot at the sudden sound of pounding, Marilyn breathed a deep sigh of relief when she heard Tiara shouting to be let in.

“Sorry, honey, I didn’t realize that you wouldn’t have your key on you,” she apologized, letting her daughter, who seemed to be in quite the foul mood, in, and locking the deadbolt behind her.

“I had my key, I just didn’t have the one for the deadbolt,” she sighed irritably.

“Are you okay?” Marilyn asked, peering at her daughter. The typically perfectly groomed young woman had hair that hung in lank, damp strips over her shoulders, her eyeliner and mascara were smeared, and there was a frown line between her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a disappointing date with Drew, that’s all,” she said, tossing her purse on the floor and flopping onto the couch after scooping up Fluffy and crushing the ecstatic animal to her chest.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” her mother replied, secretly relieved. “What happened?”

“We went to a diving spot that Drew said he particularly likes, and I wanted to explore some of the reefs, but he kept going back to the same spot, looking for some particular shark that hangs out there. I saw some cool stuff, but because he was the one with the camera, I didn’t get any pictures,” she complained.

“Well, you can understand how he’d be a bit distracted right now,” Marilyn reminded her.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that, I hadn’t been diving in quite a while and I wanted it to be like, a ‘together’ thing, you know? This was more like every man for himself,” she took her shoes off and curled into the corner of the couch, enveloping a supremely happy Fluffy.

“Would you like to drown your sorrows in pizza and a chick flick?” her mother asked with a grin.

“That’s why I’m here,” Tiara buried her face in Fluffy’s fur. “And I’ll probably snag a piece of the psycho’s pie too,” she mumbled against the cat.

“Speaking of which…” Marilyn told her about what she had observed Tim doing when she came home.

“So what do you think he was up to?” her daughter asked, while ordering a pizza online. “I’m getting some wings and a bottle of soda too,” she informed her mother.

“Wow, that bad, huh?” Marilyn teased. “Honestly, I had to wonder if he was burying a body,” her tone grew serious.

“Mom, you’re being paranoid. No one buries a body in their own yard, it’d be a dead giveaway,” she deadpanned.

“Bahahaha, nice pun,” her mother acknowledged with a groan. “But I still think there’s something fishy going on.”

“Maybe so, but weird doesn’t automatically mean criminal. Okay, the pizza is ordered, now let’s check out the movie selection,” Tiara suggested, grabbing the remote after closing the pizza app on her phone.

“Carlos, what a nice surprise,” Marilyn exclaimed when the supplier walked into her shop early one morning.

“I have good news for you,” he beamed. “My truck is behind the building, and I have a full shipment for you today,” he announced proudly.

“A full shipment? How did you manage that?” she asked, aware that Tiara was hovering in between the kitchen and the front counter, listening.

“I’ve been gone for a few days, visiting with some contacts in Mexico, and I’ve been able to open up some more direct supply lines for my limes,” he explained. “So, not only will I be able to keep you supplied, but it’ll be cheaper than I originally thought. Before you know it, we’ll be back down to pre-crisis rates.”

“Hmpf…sounds familiar,” was Tiara’s snide remark from behind her mother. Marilyn turned around and arched a warning eyebrow.

“I believe you have some cupcakes to frost,” she said pointedly, dismissing her daughter, who glared at her and flounced back to the kitchen.

“Detective Cortland would like to speak with you now that you’re back in town,” Marilyn said casually.

“Oh, I know, senora, we’ve already had a long chat,” he cast a knowing eye at Tiara’s retreating back.

“Kids,” she shrugged, wondering what had come of his talk with the detective.

“Meet me out back for delivery?” he asked, refraining from commenting.

“Will do,” she nodded, then a thought occurred to her. “Hey, Carlos, do you smoke?”

“A good cigar every now and again, why?” his eyes narrowed.

“I was just curious,” she said lamely. “Didn’t mean to offend.”

“I just can’t help but wonder why it is that you and the detective asked me that very same question,” he said quietly. “I’ll meet you at the truck.”

**

“Don’t you find it interesting that Carlos disappears for a few days, several of his customers are mysteriously robbed, and then he comes back with enough limes for everyone?” Tiara demanded, tapping her foot.

“Honey, he was gone for a few days because he went to Mexico to find new importers,” Marilyn said, wondering why her daughter was so adamant that Carlos was to blame for the theft.

“I don’t know why you’re making excuses for him, but you’re perfectly willing to believe that Drew was somehow involved in Pedro’s death,” she accused, looking hurt.

“I’m not making excuses for him, and I don’t believe that Drew was involved in the murder any more than you do,” her mother responded. “I am, however, getting more than a little bit frustrated that you’re biting my head off every time I try to talk with you about this,” she challenged her daughter with a look.

Tiara sighed. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a grump, it’s just that everything seems to be going wrong all at once and I’m sick of it,” she complained.

“Well, honey, that’s just a part of life. Things happen and sometimes you just have to roll with the punches,” Marilyn looked at her sympathetically. “How about a piece of pie?” she offered, knowing her daughter’s weakness.

The depressed young woman smiled wryly. “Might as well,” she sighed.

“Wow…this is almost as good as yours,” Tiara said, shocked.

“I know, I was surprised too,” her mother nodded, mouth full of pie. “I still don’t trust that creepy man though,” she frowned and took another bite.

“He’s just weird and harmless, Mom, get over it.”

“I don’t think so. I think he could be dangerous,” Marilyn insisted. “I just have to find some way to prove it.”

“You always tell me to stay out of stuff and let the police handle it,” her daughter reminded her, continuing to wolf down her slice of pie.

“Well, yes, but…this is my neighbor for crying out loud. I have the right to keep an eye on him to determine whether or not I’m safe living next to him. Want another slice?” she asked, noting the empty plate in front of Tiara.

“Yep, I’m feeling better by the second,” she actually smiled, the psychological lift of the sugar high taking hold.

“Well good, in that case, I’ll have another slice too.”