Death by Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 5 (4 page)

Kelcie flopped down onto her couch, exhausted from the day’s events. Her mind was numb with grief, her head ached, and her eyes were red and swollen. She was hungry, but had absolutely no energy to get to the kitchen and prepare her guacamole. Still in the mood for Mexican food, she thumbed through the numbers in her phone and found a well-used one for La Cucina. She ordered shredded chicken tacos with extra queso, double chips and guacamole for delivery. The book that she had purchased at the grocery store, a light-hearted comedic adventure by renowned wilderness author, Patrick McManus, sat beside her on the couch. She wanted to lose herself in its pages, but knew that, until she’d had some food and her bath, she couldn’t begin to relax enough to concentrate.

Her doorbell rang in record time, and when she glanced out of the peephole, she was surprised, but glad to see Sam, dressed in a La Cucina uniform.

“Wow, you’re just an ambassador of great takeout, aren’t you?” she said when she opened the door.

“I bring happiness in many different forms,” he quipped, grinning.

“Lucky for me,” Kelcie said, accepting her bag of food. “What do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into the pocket of her jeans for cash.

“Nothing. When I saw the name on the order, I told my boss that you were my best customer and he comp’d it. I also threw in some cinnamon sugar empanadas – gotta have something sweet with your meal, right?” he said, shyly.

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you,” she replied. “But at least let me give you a tip,” she insisted, holding some bills out to him.

“Absolutely not, it’s my pleasure to deliver a bit of happiness,” he held his hands up, not taking the money. “The pie that I got today was fantastic by the way,” Sam remarked.

“Oh good, I’m glad that you liked it,” she smiled. “Thanks for the food,” she held up the bag.

“My pleasure,” he replied with a wave. “Have a good night!”

**

Outside Kelcie’s apartment, in her car, parked just far enough down the street that she wouldn’t be seen or noticed, Marilyn settled in for the long haul. She was determined to keep watch at her assistant’s home for as long as it took until the stalker was identified. She knew that it was completely overkill, but she even took a photograph of the delivery guy and his car. She wanted to have a record of everyone and everything that was going on in Kelcie’s life. As she looked through her mini-binoculars while the young woman’s food was being dropped off, she was glad to note that at least she seemed to be holding up better than expected, even managing to smile at the delivery guy.

Marilyn had packed a sandwich and a thermos of coffee, which she hoped would keep her awake throughout the night. What she hadn’t thought of in advance was the fact that, after copious amounts of coffee are taken in to the body, at some point they’re going to have to make their exit. Fortunately, there was a gas station a block away if her bladder reached its breaking point, but she was really hoping that the stalker would show his cowardly face before she had to take that kind of break. She was doing well so far – she’d finished her sandwich and wasn’t a bit sleepy, which wasn’t that impressive since it was only just after eight o’clock.

Staring at the bushes around the front entrance to Kelcie’s apartment, Marilyn watched for any subtle movement, glancing from one side of the door to the other. She didn’t have to wait long. Sitting up straight in her seat, her eyes straining through the binoculars as dusk eased into night, she was horrified when a plain white van with no side windows pulled up, and a tall, thin man in coveralls hopped down from the driver’s seat, heading straight for the apartment. Marilyn was out of her car in a flash, mace in hand, and startled the man just as he was about to ring the doorbell.

“Don’t move!” she yelled in her best “tough chick” voice. “I have mace and I’m not afraid to use it,” she threatened.

The man turned around confused. “What’s your problem, lady?” he asked, hands up in a defensive posture.

“You. You are my problem, mister. You wanna tell me what precisely you’re doing here at this hour of the night?” she demanded, her can of mace pointed directly at the man’s eyes.

“Unclogging a drain?” the man said dryly, clearly not impressed by her aggressive stance.

“Don’t play games with me, I have no sense of humor at the moment,” Marilyn warned, waving the can of mace.

“Clearly,” the man grimaced. “I’m telling you lady, I work for the guy who owns this place. He got a call from the lady who lives here – something about a blocked bathtub drain – so I came out to fix it,” he shrugged.

“Do you honestly think I’m going to believe that?” Marilyn sneered.

“I don’t really care what you believe. I’ve got a job to do, so you need to back off and let me get to it,” he replied tiredly. Just then Kelcie opened the door behind him and saw her boss facing off with a stranger.

“Ms. Hayes?” she asked, confused.

“It’s okay, Kelcie, I’ve got this guy under control. You call the police and I’ll make sure that he doesn’t go anywhere,” Marilyn directed.

“Why would I call the police? He’s here to fix my bathtub drain,” the young woman responded.

The repairman gave Marilyn a harsh “I told you so” look. Glancing at Kelcie, then at the man, and back again, she stood uncertainly, looking as though she could either lower her mace or use it at any second.

“Is your name Bill?” Kelcie came out onto her front landing.

“Yep, Bill Gibson,” he replied, not taking his eyes off of the madwoman with mace who was standing in front of him.

“It’s okay, Ms. Hayes,” she called out to Marilyn. “He’s supposed to be here.” She came and stood beside the repairman. “It’s okay, Bill, sorry about the confusion. If you could go on up and check it out, that would be great,” she said, looking at him apologetically.

Waiting until Bill had disappeared up the stairs, Kelcie wrapped her arms around herself and approached a very stunned Marilyn. “Ms. Hayes, are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood, and stopped to see if you needed anything,” her boss hedged.

“That’s really sweet, but as soon as the tub is fixed, I’m headed for bed.”

“Good, that’s a good idea,” Marilyn mumbled. “I’m headed to bed myself. Have a good sleep.”

“You too,” Kelcie said, baffled, as she watched her boss walk away.

Marilyn drove home, rattled by her encounter with the innocent repairman, thinking that there must be something that she could do to discover the identity of Kelcie’s stalker, and hopefully, tie them somehow to Camden’s murder. She was no detective, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to add two and two to come up with four. Camden had been a good friend of Kelcie’s, they’d been seen together in public recently, and Kelcie had a stalker. Clearly, someone deranged enough to hide in a young woman’s bushes, spying on her, might be capable of murder. Camden had been a nice young man from a good family, with a bright future ahead of him. An insecure stalker would have every reason to hate someone upon whom fate smiled so brightly.

When she pulled into her driveway, she saw Tiara, sitting on the porch swing, waiting. She couldn’t be sure, but it certainly appeared from a distance as though her daughter wasn’t entirely happy about something.

“Where were you?” she challenged, when Marilyn came up the porch steps.

“I went for a drive, why?” her mother fibbed.

“You went for a drive? A four hour drive? Really, Mom? I’m not stupid you know,” Tiara huffed, seeing right through her mother’s ruse. “We were supposed to go over the new business plan tonight, remember?"

Marilyn’s face fell. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot,” she exclaimed, dismayed.

“Yeah, I figured that out a couple of hours ago,” her daughter pouted. “Did you at least gather any good information while you were out looking for Kelcie’s stalker?” she asked, not beating around the bush.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” her mother’s face couldn’t even begin to hide her guilt.

“Seriously, Mom? You’re really not good at the poker face thing. I know you. I know that you’re as frustrated as I am that Kelcie is still being stalked, and now you’re worried because you think her stalker might actually be a murderer too…I get it. So you might as well be honest with me,” she stared, unblinking at her mother.

Marilyn sighed, accepting defeat. “Fine, I’ll tell you what happened,” she glanced over at Tim Eckels’ cottage warily. “But let’s move this inside, shall we?” she steered her daughter to the door.

Tiara had a good laugh at her mother’s expense. “I’m sorry,” she said, still guffawing. “But you verses the repairman…oh I wish I could’ve seen it,” she dissolved into another gale of laughter.

Her mother shook her head, frustrated. “I just wish I could’ve stayed there long enough to find out something that would be helpful,” she picked up Fluffy, the grey tabby that Tiara had rescued, and began stroking her absently.

“Well, you know, the police are working on this, and they actually do have the skills and resources to find the bad guys,” her daughter reminded her.

“Yes, they do. But you know as well as I do that I’m not one to sit back and wait for other people to solve my problems for me. I function much better when I’m taking action,” Marilyn asserted.

“Then how about we take some action on this business plan,” Tiara insisted, giving her a look.

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry, honey, you know how I get,” her mother shrugged.

“Oh believe me, I know.”

**

After Bill, the repairman, left, Kelcie got into her pajamas and headed for bed. She was more drained than tired, but hoped that sleep would claim her quickly and silence the torrent of thoughts running torturously through her mind. Rather than bringing a welcome reprieve from reality, her sleep brought with it nightmares of every different stripe, the last one being the worst of them all. In the dream, she was upstairs asleep, and she heard a sound like someone had opened her front door, followed by the slight squeaking of them coming slowly up the stairs. Closer and closer came the intruder, until at last, he was standing by the bed, then kneeling beside it, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck.

“Wake up, beautiful lady,” the stranger’s voice purred in her ear.

Kelcie awoke with a start to find that it hadn’t been a dream at all, as a hand was clamped tightly over her mouth to stifle the sound of her screams.

“Hey, girl. Chill out, I just wanted to surprise you,” she recognized Thomas’s voice in the dark, and was nauseated by the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. He removed his hand from her mouth and she wrenched away from him, cowering against the wall at the far side of the bed, covers clenched to her chest.

“What are you doing here, Thomas? You get out right now…I mean it,” her voice quavered as she shrunk against the wall, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“Whassamatter with you?” he slurred. “I came over here to make up,” he reached for her, groping at the covers.

“Don’t you touch me Thomas!” she yelled. “Get out!”

“Don’t be so hateful. You used to like it when I touched you,” he leered.

“I mean it, Thomas, you need to leave right now, or I’m calling the police,” she lowered her  voice, trying to sound more reasonable.

“How you gonna do that?” he said menacingly, holding up her cell phone and waggling it in front of her. He must have grabbed it from the bedside table while she was sleeping.

“Give me my phone, Thomas,” she ordered, terrified.

“No,” was the sinister reply.

Kelcie gritted her teeth and hissed between them. “I swear to you, if you don’t give me that phone right now, I’m going to scream,” she threatened.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you?” he shot back.

Both of them jumped when, just then, the doorbell rang. Taking advantage of Thomas being distracted for a moment, Kelcie screamed, “Help, somebody help meeee…” She could only hope that whoever rung the bell had heard her cry before the smashing blow rang out against her temple, causing her to briefly see stars before succumbing to darkness.

Kelcie winced, running her fingers over the goose egg that Thomas had left on her temple before running downstairs and slipping out the back door. She had been brought around with smelling salts to find two EMT’s a police officer, and Detective Bernard Cortland in her room. She had been relieved that apparently whoever had rung the doorbell, at the crucial moment when Thomas had decided to get violent, had heard her cry for help and alerted the police.

“I’m so glad you’re here, she said weakly to the detective as an EMT shone his flashlight into her eyes, checking for neurological damage.

“It’s fortunate that a good Samaritan happened to be around to hear you when you were being attacked,” Bernard observed.

“Yes, it is,” Kelcie started to nod, but stopped when pain gripped her. “Who was at the door?” she asked weakly, after the pain had subsided a bit.

“It was the young man who had delivered your food earlier. Apparently, he discovered that something was missing in your order and he came out to bring it to you. He said that when he rang the bell, he heard you scream, and called 911.”

“Sam saved me?” she murmured.

“Quite possibly,” the detective nodded. “Do you have any idea who did this to you?”

“Yes,” Kelcie admitted, unreasonably embarrassed. “It was my ex-boyfriend, Thomas. He smelled like a brewery and he was slurring, so I think he was drunk. He either broke in, or I may have forgotten to lock the front door after Bill left,” she mused, feeling drained and sore.

“Bill?” Bernard’s pen was poised over his notepad.

“Bill Gibson, the repairman for the apartment complex. He fixed my bathtub drain,” she explained.

“Detective, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re going to have to get her to the hospital. She may have sustained a concussion, and I’m sure the docs will want to run a scan to make sure that there are no skull fractures. Whoever did this packed a powerful punch,” the EMT’s jaw muscles clenched and he shook his head in disgust.

Cortland nodded. “Safety first,” he said to Kelcie, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll check in to see how you’re doing, and we can finish this conversation tomorrow, when you’re feeling better.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she murmured, blinking slowly. “Oh, Detective?” she called out as he turned to go. He gave her a questioning look.

“Do you think I’ll be safe at the hospital?” she asked in a small, scared voice.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he promised grimly.

**

Kelcie’s scans showed no fractures, but she did have a concussion, and would need to stay in the hospital overnight for observation. Bernard came by the next morning to finish questioning her about the incident, and let her know that Thomas had already been arrested.

“Do you think he killed Cam?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears at the all-too-fresh loss of her friend.

“We’re looking into it,” the detective replied. “He certainly seems to have violent tendencies and enough of a motive to be considered a viable suspect.”

“If he did kill Cam…that would make it my fault. He never would’ve even known who Cam was if he hadn’t seen him with me and put two and two together,” she said, tears slipping slowly down her cheeks.

“His actions, if he did indeed take Camden’s life, were his own. He made his own decisions, which you couldn’t have predicted or prevented. It’s not your fault if he killed him, Kelcie, but let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,” he advised. “You get some rest, and let me worry about figuring out who the bad guy is.”

“Then, there’s still the mystery of my stalker,” she muttered miserably.

“I’m still looking into that as well,” Bernard assured her. “We’ll figure it out, these things just take time. At least now you’ll be safe from an ex-boyfriend with a wicked temper,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she agreed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I understand completely. Just hang in there,” he said on his way out the door.