The Lime and the Dead: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 3 (4 page)

“So,
how was it? Are you changing your name, moving to Hollywood and becoming a
movie star?” Marilyn teased when Tiara came in, ready for pizza and a movie.

“Not
even close,” her daughter laughed, picking up a chewy, gooey slice of pepperoni
pizza and slapping it onto a paper plate for their weekly ritual. “It was fun,
though, not gonna lie,” she said, taking a huge bite, the mozzarella stringing
between her mouth and the triangle in her hand.

“What
did you do?” her mother asked, handing her a napkin.

“They
told me that I could buy whatever I wanted, I just had to make silly
conversation about it with Amber, and they’d reimburse me for the cost of it,
plus give me five hundred dollars for showing up on such short notice,” Tiara
explained, holding up her hand in front of her mouth so that she could chew
while she talked.

“This
guy named Tucker, who drives the limo that Amber and Bella travel in, followed
us around the whole time, and whenever we bought something, he carried all of
the bags and put them in the car. So, by the time we were done filming, I had
picked out four swim suits, a couple of sundresses, some new sunglasses and
five different colors of flip-flops. Amber got way more stuff than that, plus
about twenty outfits for Lulu. I felt kind of bad for her actually, she really
doesn’t have much of a life. The guy from the yacht club that she hangs out
with sounds like a jerk, and she travels all the time, but never gets away from
the cameras and has her own life. It’s kind of sad,” she said, reaching for her
water bottle to wash down the pizza.

“You
don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that,” Marilyn sighed with relief. “I
was hoping you wouldn’t get lured into that kind of lifestyle.”

“Oh
please, Mom,” Tiara rolled her eyes. “You and I are just normal people who live
in the real world. I wouldn’t last a week doing something like that without
calling someone out for being fake or pretentious. No, thank you, I’m just fine
working with you at SubLime Sweets until my dream job comes along,” her
daughter assured her.

Mother
and daughter fought good-naturedly over which movie to watch, finally settling on
an eerie mystery that took place in the swamps of Louisiana. There were a few
surprised screams, and plenty of hold-your-breath suspense filled moments, and
when it was time for Tiara to head out, Marilyn walked her to the car with a
flashlight remarking that they should probably stick to comedies next time.
Locking the door behind her after her daughter drove away, the tired pie-maker
headed for bed, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

**

Marilyn
slept so hard that she felt foggy when she woke up the next morning. Sunlight
streamed through her window, but something felt…off. Shaking her head to try to
clear the morning cobwebs from her brain, she heard something that sounded like
she’d left the TV on, but she knew that she had turned it off after the movie
last night. She slipped into her fluffy purple chenille robe and padded
barefoot out to the living room to see where the noise was coming from.

Bright
blue and red lights splashed color all over the walls of her house as the
lights of multiple police cruisers lit up the cozy interior. Marilyn’s heart
beat rapidly when she saw uniformed policemen as well as the ever-handsome
detective, Bernard Cortland, and her creepy neighbor, Tim Eckels, standing in
her side yard, by the trees that separated her property from his.

Dashing
back to her bedroom and dressing in a hurry, because there was no way she was
facing that crowd in her ratty bathrobe, she ran a brush through her hair and
tossed it into a ponytail.  Wondering what was going on, she sauntered
nonchalantly out onto her porch. Detective Cortland looked up, saw her and
jogged over, notebook and pen in hand.

“Good
morning, Detective,” she smiled, hoping that he couldn’t hear her heart
pounding. “What brings you out here at this hour?”

“We
had a call from your neighbor,” Bernard began, his eyes narrowed.

“Confidentially,”
Marilyn leaned in. “He’s really strange. He keeps popping up in my yard and on
my porch at different times and it really freaks me out. He actually sort of
threatened me,” she confided as the detective took notes.

“Threatened
you?” Cortland raised his eyebrows. “In what manner?” his pen was poised over
the notebook.

Marilyn
related the incident from the previous afternoon and told him how rattled she’d
been over the encounter. The detective took copious notes, nodding and
occasionally asking clarifying questions.

“So
why did he call you anyway?” she asked.

Bernard
Cortland looked at her for a long moment before replying. “He found something,”
was the vague reply.

“Oh…his
cat? Why would he call you about that?” Marilyn looked past the detective to
where Tim Eckels stood.

“No,
actually he found a body,” Bernard replied, watching her reaction carefully.

“A
body? What? Whose? Where?” her eyes were wide with fear. She knew that her
neighbor was odd, but it was more than disconcerting to think that he would
kill someone. “What did he do?” she whispered, wondering why the man wasn’t in
hand cuffs by now.

“He
called in to report a dead body…on your lawn,” Cortland responded, looking at
her closely.

“On
my…what? Where?” now Marilyn was terrified.

“Did
you happen to see last night’s episode of
Real Girlfriends of the Yacht Club
?”
he asked, changing the subject.

“What?
No, of course not, I don’t watch that trash,” she waved dismissively. “But
you’re telling me that there was a body found on my lawn? When?” she asked,
practically convulsing with chills.

“So
you didn’t watch the show, even though you knew that your daughter was on it?”
he persisted.

“No,
I reject the whole ridiculous concept. How did this happen?” Marilyn was
getting frustrated that the detective was talking about a stupid reality show
immediately after telling her that someone had died on her lawn.

“You’re
telling me that you have no idea what one of the participants on the show said
about your pie while she was in your shop?” Bernard continued to try to clarify
the situation.

“Wait…what?
Did that nasty Bella Fontaine say something bad about my pie? Because the
producer told me that they would edit that out. I’m going to be so angry if
that segment aired,” she fumed. “But let’s table that discussion for a moment.
Why is there a body on my lawn…and where exactly?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Over
there, next to the treeline that divides your property from Madge’s,” Cortland
inclined his head. “And we’d like to know how and why it got there too,” he
said carefully.

“Are
you going to arrest Tim?” Marilyn whispered, so that her neighbor wouldn’t hear
her.

“No.
I’m not going to arrest Mr. Eckels, and I’m hoping that I won’t have reason to
arrest you or your daughter,” he ground out grimly.

“What?
Why on earth would you do that?” was her horrified reply.

“The
victim is Bella Fontaine. Mr. Eckels has no motive to have done anything to
her…but you and your daughter certainly do.”

“Should
we close the shop for a few days?” Tiara asked her mother as the two left the
police station after giving their statements. It was a Sunday, so the shop
didn’t open until noon, and fortunately, they were done with the police in time
to open up if they chose to.

“I
don’t see how we can,” Marilyn replied. “People who saw the show last night are
probably going to be lining up before we open. Kelcie and I can make the pies
in time for the rush, then I’ll tackle extra product while the two of you
handle the customers.”

“What
if nobody shows up because they think we had something to do with Bella’s
death?” she worried.

“We’ll
donate the pies to the homeless shelter,” her mother’s mouth was set in a grim
line.

“Okay,”
Tiara nodded. “Let’s do this.”

As
predicted, a line had already begun to form outside the sunny little lime green
and bright yellow shop, and Marilyn was glad that she had Kelcie to help her
keep up with the demand. The wide-eyed new girl had been more than a little
scared when the police had spoken with her this morning, but figured that life
would go on like it always did. She’d just have to be a bit more vigilant when
walking to and from work if there was some sicko out there killing young women.

“Okay,
dear, you head out front to help Tiara, and I’ll finish up back here,” Marilyn
instructed, carefully pinching together the points of a Key Lime Puff Pastry.
Once she’d put the tray of them into the oven, she’d mix the vanilla bean glaze
and drizzle it over the top of the treats once they’d cooled a bit. Slices of
strawberry would adorn the tops, making them pretty to look at as well as
delicious. She whipped up the glaze while the pastries baked, and nearly jumped
out of her skin when she felt something brush against her ankle. She looked
down and saw the cat that had been in her yard, rubbing against her and looking
for attention. She turned off the mixer and dropped it hastily in the bowl.

“Oh
no!” she whispered. “How did you get in here?” She scooped the friendly cat up
and ran for the back door, which was standing ajar. Odd. No one had used the
back door for entry this morning, Kelcie, Tiara and Marilyn had all come in
through the front. The back was unlocked while they were in the shop, in case
any deliveries came in, but she knew that none had.

“The
Health Department would shut me down if they saw you in here,” Marilyn
whispered to the purring animal in her arms before setting her quickly down
outside the back door. She really should just take the poor thing to the
no-kill shelter across town, but on a busy day like today, it would have to
wait. Making a face, she took off her sanitary gloves and brushed every trace
of fur from her clothing while still standing outside. Coming back in, she
threw the gloves away and scrubbed thoroughly, making certain that the door was
locked behind her this time.

Marilyn
had just put on fresh gloves when she heard raised voices in the crowded area
up front. Racing through the kitchen door to see what was going on, she saw a
mascara-streaked Amber screaming at Tiara, who didn’t appear to be backing down
even a little bit.

“How
could you? I know Bella wasn’t the nicest person ever, but you didn’t have to
do this,” the overwrought reality star accused. “What am I supposed to do now?
Do you think I want to be on the show with you after this? That’s probably why
you did it, so you could take her place on the show,” the tiny blonde screamed
and stamped her foot.

“You’re
being absolutely ridiculous,” Tiara shot back. “I had nothing to do with
whatever happened to Bella. I have better things to do with my time than to
scheme and commit crimes so that I can be on a stupid reality TV show. Unlike
you, I have a life and people who care about me,” she put her hands on her
hips, glaring across the counter at the sobbing young woman.

The
crowd had gathered, seemingly hoping for some sort of event like this, Bella’s
death had been all over the local and national news this morning, and Marilyn
was disgusted to see that there was a crew present, filming the entire thing.

“Okay,
everybody, the show’s over,” Marilyn yelled above the din, moving to stand
between Tiara and Amber.

“Young
lady, I understand that you’re upset, but you need to leave my store, now. I’ll
give you a pie to take with you, but you have to go,” she told Amber firmly,
defusing the situation.

“I
don’t want your stupid pie!” she yelled in the owner’s face. “Your pie was
smashed into Bella’s face when they found her, they had to clean it off to even
see who she was, so you just keep your pie,” the distraught young woman cried,
turning to go.

Marilyn
addressed the camera crew behind her. “You guys get out now,” she ordered. “And
if you ever come back in here again without my permission, I’ll have you
arrested for trespassing.”

Sabra
Remington marched up to her after the crew left, shaking her head in disgust.
“I didn’t think you had it in you, but apparently you’re far more vindictive
than I thought. Your daughter may go down for this, but you and I both know who
the real criminal here is,” she snarled. “And by the way, before you go calling
the cops over what you think is trespassing, you might want to read the
contract that you signed with us…it’s good until the end of the month.
Unlimited access,” she smirked.

Marilyn
took a deep breath, looked at the ceiling and counted to ten. When she finished
counting, Amber, Sabra and the crew were gone, and the line had reformed with
guests waiting for pie.

“Sorry
about that, everyone,” she announced. “We’ll get you taken care of as soon as
possible,” she promised, feeling suddenly weary.

The
shop sold out of everything, half an hour before closing time, and Marilyn just
decided to call it a day and close early. She and Kelcie would have to get in
there early in the morning if they had any hope of keeping up with the growing
demand. Tiara advised her to take a cautious approach, warning her that the
surge in business could be short-lived and fueled by people hoping to catch a
glimpse of a reality star.

“I
understand, honey,” Marilyn had responded. “I just want to be ready. We need to
ride this wave while it’s cresting.”