Chewy Chocolate Chip Murder: A Cookie Lane Cozy Mystery - Book 1 (4 page)

Barbequed ribs sizzled on the griddle
and the sweet honey scent filled the air around the stall. Cat and Lacy stood
in the long line, in front of it, drooling for a taste.

“Wow,” Lacy said. “I’m never skipping
a farmer’s market again. This place is unbelievable.”

Rows of stalls lined the walkways.
Families wandered between them, shopping everything from potted plants to
homemade canned sauces to trout jerky. Smells and sounds filled the area.

A wash of culture and color and – oh
boy, it was just Cat’s favorite place to be, apart from Cat’s Cookies, of
course.

“We can get something to eat, then
take a look around. I wonder if they have any cat toys here,” Catherine said
and placed her index finger under her chin. “I need to get something for Oreo.”

“What about the Halloween pumpkin ball
I got him last year?”

“Oh, he’s already scratched through
that. He loved it so much. He wouldn’t let it out of his sight. The poor thing
has gone from orange to yellow to beige.”

“The fluffy pumpkin ball or Oreo?”
Lacy asked, and arched an eyebrow.

“Oreo’s still as black as ever, I
assure you,” Cat replied.

The line shifted forward a few steps,
and they hurried to close the gap. The sooner they got their order in, the
better. Cat’s belly grumbled a complaint.

“Fancy meeting you here, murderer,” a
man said, behind her.

Lacy and Catherine froze. They stared
at each other, then turned to face the man.

A young guy – with a full head of
hair, shoot – stood behind them in the line, arms folded across his blue Polo
shirt. “I didn’t know killers enjoyed the farmer’s market, like regular folk.”

This kid had to be just out of high
school. So much for respecting elders, right?

“Who are you?” Catherine asked. She
looked up at the young man and schooled herself to calm.

“I’m Kevin Walters. You killed my
grandmother,” he said, loudly.

A couple of the people in line for the
ribs turned and craned their necks back down the line.

Lacy tried to shrink back, but there
wasn’t space.

“Well, Kevin Walters, you might want to
work on your manners. How old are you? Nineteen? Younger?”

“That’s none of your business,” he
said, a snarl curled his upper lip. “I don’t fraternize with murderers.”

“Look, I know your parents probably
raised you to believe that you’re everything. You’re a star, right? Take on the
world and all that, but you need to learn some respect. A bad attitude will get
you nowhere, fast,” Catherine replied.

Lacy sucked in a couple of breaths,
then squared her shoulders. “Yeah.”

“What, is this your bodyguard?” The
kid asked, and pointed to Lace.

“Is there a reason you approached me,
child?” Catherine asked, and gave him her sweetest smile. “I was in the middle
of a conversation before you interrupted.”

“Man, what kind of idiot was my
grandmother to leave her money to a woman like you. What are you going to do
with it? Spend it on ribs and cookies and all kinds of junk,” the kid replied.

That was it. If Cat hadn’t been in
control of her faculties, she might’ve shaken this kid for a comment like that.
“Beth Walters was an incredible human being,” Cat replied. “I wouldn’t expect
you to understand that. Goodbye.”

She turned her back on Kevin and moved
forward in the line. Only two people ahead of them, and then they’d have their
ribs. She focused on that, to avoid the bubbling anger in her gut.

How dare he accuse her of murdering
Beth? And worse, how dare he speak about his grandmother like that?

“He’s gone,” Lacy said, after a
second. “And he didn’t look happy about leaving. I don’t think he came for the
barbecued ribs, though.”

“No, he came to make a point. Or to do
someone else’s dirty work.” Cat stepped to the front table and eyed the ribs on
the grill. “I’ll have two of your largest portions, please.”

She’d need to keep her strength up for
what came next. Catherine Kelley was anything but a coward, and Kevin had
invoked a deep sense of determination within her.

Crickets chirped in the bushes beneath
the window. Catherine crouched between the leaves and held her breath. She let
it out slowly, a long, low exhale, then crept along the side of the Walters'
residence.

Impulsive. That was what Lacy called
her. Beth had once said her body knew what Cat wanted to do before her brain
did.

“Boy, I hope I don’t regret this,” Cat
whispered. This was the first time she’d ever crab-walked outside someone’s
home past eight o’clock at night.

She stopped beneath a bottom floor
window – probably, the living room – and caught her breath.

“This is stupid. You’re a grown woman
creeping around looking for clues in someone’s yard. Ridiculous.” Beth would’ve
laughed at her. Lacy would be horrified. And Oreo? Ah, he’d probably have come
with if she’d given him a chance.

Cat leaned her back against the wall
and swatted leaves from her arms. She had to get home. Kevin’s rudeness at the
farmer’s market had planted suspicions in her mind, and they’d blossomed in the
fertile soil of her paranoia.

Could he be the murderer?

Perhaps, but she wouldn’t’ find
anything out by –

“Hello?” A woman spoke above Cat’s
head.

She stiffened, then relaxed a second
later. The woman was in the living room adjacent.

Cat turned to face the wall, then
walked her fingers up to the sill. She grabbed it and raised her head in
increments. She peered through the window.

Tara Walters fidgeted with her string
of pearls and pressed a cellphone to her ear. She paced to the sofa, then back
to the coffee table, rinse and repeat. Her gaze rested on the Grand Piano.

“I said, hello!” Tara snapped, then
paused and inhaled. She grasped the pearls firmly and held still. “What are you
doing calling me at this time of the night? I told you I’m with my family. I
can’t answer calls –”

“Honey?” Mr. Walters’ voice traveled
from further in the house.

Tara snatched the phone from her ear
and pressed it to her pink blouse. “Just a minute. I’m just on the phone.” She
tilted her head to the side and listened, then lifted the phone, again. “I told
you this isn’t a good time.”

Who was on the other end of the line?

“No, it’s not over yet. Look, I’ll get
the money. I’m in talks with my associates right now. As soon as I have it, you
will,” Tara said and swallowed. She tightened her grip on her pearls.

Cat lowered herself a bit but kept her
gaze glued to Tara.

“You don’t understand. It’s not that
simple. I couldn’t have predicted this. No one could. Look, I have to go. I
hear someone coming. No, no, no. I’m not trying to avoid you just –”

“Honey?” Joseph Walters appeared in
the doorway, the chandelier in the entrance hall behind him acted as a
backdrop.

Tara wrenched her hand down but ripped
the string of pearls instead. The white balls dropped to the boards, and
bounced, then rolled in every direction. “I’ll have to call you back,” Tara
said. “Another time. Yes, thank you.” She hung up, then turned on her husband.
“What is it?”

“Honey, have you seen Rachel?” Joseph
asked. “She’s not in her room.”

“No, I haven’t seen that idiot of a
girl,” Tara snapped. She dropped the remains of her necklace on the coffee
table.

“Are you all right?” Joseph stepped
into the living room, wringing his hands. “Is this about Beth?”

“No,” Tara replied. “I’m just having
some trouble with a business associate.”

“You seem stressed,” Joseph replied.
“Why don’t I draw you a nice hot, bubble bath. You can soak in the tub. Get rid
of your worries.”

Tara clenched the cell in her fist and
pressed it to her forehead. “No, that won’t help. Nothing will help. Our lives
are turning into a disaster, and it’s all your fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Joseph
asked, and his shoulders stiffened beneath his designer button-down shirt. “Is
this about Rachel’s fees again? Is it about Kevin’s? He’s already working two
jobs to pay for college, Tara. What more can we do?”

“Nothing. And Rachel is a low-life.
She’s crazy. We should never have sent her to college in the first place.”

“Don’t talk about her like that, and as
I recall it was you who pushed the child to go pre-law.” Joseph clicked his
tongue and looked away from his wife. “You’re just upset about Beth.”

“No, I’m not. The woman was a cancer.
I’m glad to be rid of her.”

Cat bit her lip. Anger rushed through
her again, but she had to control it this time. She couldn’t afford an
inquisition from the Walters family. They’d have her thrown in jail if they
caught her in their bushes.

“I’m going to bed,” Tara said, then
pushed past her husband and disappeared.

Joseph stood under the arch and looked
at the pearls on the floor. He shook his head once, then turned and walked
away.

“Time to go,” Cat whispered. She
stumbled out of the bushes and hit a brick wall. Strange, there hadn’t been a
brick wall when she’d arrived.

Wait, a second, that wasn’t a wall,
that was –

“Miss Kelley. What a surprise.”
Detective Bradshaw said. He grasped her under the elbow and helped her stand
straight. His tone reflected the exact opposite of surprise.

“I was just –”

“You were just coming with me, ma’am.
We’ve got a lot to discuss,” he said, and his brow puckered up. The 'you’re in
trouble, young lady’. Except she wasn’t particularly young and she should’ve
thought about that before she’d gallivanted in a suspect’s bushes.

“I – uh, where are we going?”

Detective Bradshaw walked her to the
sidewalk. “The station, of course.”

“Are you comfortable?” Jack asked, and
placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

She lifted it and examined the
contents. Insipid, low quality, just the stuff served to suspects in the
interrogation room.

“I’m as comfortable as I can be, given
the circumstances,” Cat replied.  She sipped the coffee – waste not, want not –
and then swallowed.

“Good. Because we might be here a
while,” Jack replied. He’s tone didn’t change, but his posture eased a little.
He cared that she was comfortable.

That didn’t mean a thing, of course.
Only that he was a good cop.

“I know I shouldn’t have been in those
bushes, but I think you’ll be interested in what I overheard,” Cat said.
Perhaps, the information she’d gleaned could save her from charges.

She’d really gone too far this time.
Typical Catherine behavior. Her mother would’ve scolded her for hours. At least,
Beth would’ve laughed.

“This isn’t about the trespassing,”
Detective Bradshaw replied. “We can discuss that a little later. Though I’ll be
interested to hear your excuse for creeping around the family of a murder
victim.”

“I was investigating,” Cat said,
immediately. “I ran into Kevin Walters at the farmer’s market today, and he
said –”

Jack Bradshaw raised his large palm
and stalled her story. “Please, Miss Kelley, calm yourself.”

“I’m Cat,” she said. She lifted the
coffee cup to her mouth and pressed the Styrofoam to her bottom lip. The white
table between them shone dully beneath the fluorescent lights.

A tiny room, a camera humming in the
upper right-hand corner of the white wall. Catherine put the coffee down, then
stroked her forearms. “What is this about, then detective?”

“You lied to me,” he said and sat back
in the uncomfortable chair. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Miss Kelley.”

“What are you talking about?” Cat’s
cheeks colored. Had he discovered the journal she’d hidden under the sofa cushion
or…? No, it couldn’t be that.

“I think you know what I’m talking
about,” he replied.

“I really don’t.”

Jack Bradshaw stared at her and
narrowed his eyes. He opened the brown dossier in front of him and drew out a
single piece of paper. He slid it across the desk. “You are the sole benefactor
of Beth Walter’s will.”

“What?” Catherine asked. She grabbed
the sheet of paper and turned it on the spot. “How is this possible?”

“It appears that Beth Walters changed
her will a month before her death. She’d originally left the money to the
Walters’ family, but something changed her mind,” the detective replied. “Would
you care to explain that?”

“I can’t,” Cat replied. “I had no
idea.” She dropped the page and pressed her fingers to her forehead. A headache
brewed in the center, right between her eyes. This was impossible.

She’d loved Beth, but she’d never
expected this.

“You didn’t know about the will?
You’re maintaining that you didn’t know about this?” Bradshaw asked.

“Yeah. I had no idea. I never got a
call. Or maybe I did and just didn’t answer. I’m terrible with my phone,” Cat
said. “But this doesn’t make any sense. Why would Beth change her will? What
could have happened to make her do that?”

Jack took the paper and put it back in
the file. “I was hoping you could answer that.”

“Look, Detective, I’ll cooperate in
whatever way I can, but I swear I had no idea that she’d done this,” Catherine
said. She chewed the corner of her lip, then gasped. “Oh my gosh. Tara!”

“What?”

“Tara was on the phone with someone,
talking about money. What if she wanted the money and murdered Beth for it?”
Cat shook her head. “No, but that doesn’t make sense. Why would she get her to
change her will?”

Jack sat back and folded his arms
again. His cup of coffee sat on the table, untouched. “You said you were
friends with Beth?”

“We were more than friends,” Catherine
replied. She shifted the Styrofoam cup along the table. “She was family to me.
When everyone else left me alone, Beth was there. Beth and Lacy.”

“Lacy?” Jack asked, then leaned
forward and picked up a pen from beside his clipboard. He scribbled Lacy’s name
on it.

“Yeah, she’s my assistant,” Cat said.
“But she hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“I have to investigate every avenue,
Miss Kelley. The innocent will be proven innocent and the guilty,” he said,
then let the end of the sentence dangle in the air between them.

Cat pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Is it true that you brought Beth bait
the night before her death?” Jack asked.

“That’s correct. I dropped it off at
her place, and we have a cookie and a cup of coffee. Choc chip.” Catherine
replied.

“So, you knew she would be fishing
down at the waterfront the next morning,” Jack replied.

“Yeah, I knew. She went there almost
every morning to fish,” Cat replied.

“And where were you that morning?” The
detective asked.

Catherine glared at him. “What are you
trying to say, here?”

“Just answer the question, Miss
Kelley.” Detective Bradshaw replied, in a long-suffering tone.

Cat glared at him. “I was in bed, about
to wake up and get started baking a batch of cookies for the day’s sales.”

“Was there anyone with you? Anyone who
can verify your alibi?” The detective asked.

“No. Unless you count my cat, Oreo,”
Catherine replied.

Detective Bradshaw gave a small, tight
smile. “I’m afraid not.”

“Look, do you want to hear any of my
theories? I mean, I heard Tara on the phone to some business associate, and she
was worried about money. That’s got to mean something,” Cat said.

The detective didn’t write anything on
his clipboard this time. “I think we’re done for today,” he said. “You’re free
to go.”

“That’s it? You don’t want to hear
what I have to say?” Cat asked, and rose from the table. She bumped it and
coffee slopped over the side of her cup. At least, he didn’t want to arrest her
for trespassing.

“That will be all.” Jack replied, then
gestured to the door. “Try to stay out of trouble, Miss Kelley.”