Murder By Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 4 (2 page)

“What do you mean there are no limes this morning? How can there be no limes? It’s delivery day!” Marilyn panicked.

“We went down to the dock, as usual, and Pedro wasn’t there, so Drew tried to call him and there was no answer,” Tiara explained. “So then we checked the warehouse where he sometimes leaves the shipments if he’s in a hurry, and it was completely empty. I don’t know what to do,” she ran an anxious hand through her hair.

“We have a little bit of inventory left over from last week, but that’ll only last us a couple of days at most. We certainly won’t make it through the week with the few crates that are back there,” Marilyn worried. “What if we go buy out all of the limes that are in the grocery store?”

“There aren’t nearly enough, and with what it would cost us, we wouldn’t be able to make a profit,” her daughter replied, disheartened.

“What are we going to do?”

“Let me get on the phone and try to lean on some suppliers,” Tiara’s jaw was set. Marilyn nodded as the determined young woman headed toward the office.

“Okay, Kelcie, it’s damage control time,” the grim-faced owner said, reaching for her recipe files. “Let’s look for every recipe that we can find that uses as little Key Lime as possible. It’ll be a flavoring, rather than a feature – that way we’ll be able to string along what little inventory we have, stretching it as far as it’ll go. If we have to, we can use some concentrated lime in with the fresh lime juice, and we’ll make the most of the zest as well.”

The two bakers put their heads together and came up with as many recipes as they could which used as little lime juice as possible, and spent the rest of the day baking and strategizing how to make the most of their remaining limes.

“Any luck?” Marilyn asked, when Tiara came back to the kitchen to talk about the plan for the week.

The despondent young woman merely shook her head. “Not only did none of the vendors have any inventory, but one of them basically said that we got what we deserved because we chose to work with pirates.”

“Pirates? That’s pretty harsh language to use when talking about a competitor…I wonder what was behind that comment…” Marilyn mused.

“Well, people can get pretty ugly when they’re being undersold,” her daughter pointed out. “So what’s the plan?”

“For now, we’re minimizing the use of lime, and hoping to come up with another source at some point. If it gets bad enough, we might just have to close for a few days,” she shrugged helplessly.

Tiara shook her head. “We can’t, Mom. Not only would it be a bad idea to lose that much revenue, but it would cause our customers to doubt our longevity. We have to show them that we can weather this storm, no pun intended. Even if we stay open and sell non-lime related items, it’ll be better than closing down,” she pointed out.

“Okay, then we’ll come up with a couple of different plans, and hope that we can find a supplier in the meantime. Hopefully Pedro will return Drew’s calls and we can carry on with business as usual,” Marilyn said, trying to remain optimistic.

“I certainly hope so,” Tiara agreed, clearly stressed.

All three of them looked up when the bell over the front door jangled, signaling that someone had come in.

“That’s my cue,” Tiara remarked, trying to smile. She left the kitchen and Kelcie and Marilyn watched her go.

“Mom!” they heard her call a few minutes later. Marilyn trotted out of the kitchen and to the front counter, more than a bit surprised to see two uniformed policemen and the ever-handsome Detective Bernard Cortland standing with her daughter, whose face was ashen.

“What’s going on?” she asked, alarmed at Tiara’s appearance and the presence of law enforcement.

“I need to go to the police station,” her daughter murmured, in a daze.

“Whatever for?” she frowned, confused.

“Drew has been arrested. When they recovered his boat from the bottom of the marina, Pedro’s body was in it,” she said quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

“We just need to ask her a few questions, it shouldn’t take long,” Bernard explained, trying to reassure the nervous mother. He and Marilyn had met several months ago, and though she’d die before admitting it, she’d had a school-girlish crush on him ever since.

“Should I go along?” she asked, trying to be helpful.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Cortland replied. “I’ll drop her off here when we’re finished.”

Tiara handed Marilyn her apron, gave her a quick hug, and looked away before the tears started to flow. Watching her daughter being escorted to a police cruiser, the worried mom was perplexed. While she hadn’t thought that Drew was of a suitable age for her daughter, he had certainly seemed like a nice person. They’d gotten along just fine when he was merely a yoga instructor, and Marilyn simply could not see him as someone who would participate in the death of another human being, but then again, sometimes the most heinous criminals were those that no one ever suspected. Pursing her lips and hoping for the best, she turned, heading for the kitchen to trade places with Kelcie, so that she could get some backup baking done.

“What do you mean you have nothing for me?” Marilyn tried not to scream into the phone in frustration. “It’s your job to have something for me. You’re a supplier, that’s what you do, by definition,” she reminded him.

Carlos Mechago was not a man to be trifled with. He was loyal to his customers as long as they were loyal to him, and Marilyn Hayes had strayed, plain and simple. “Don’t you think I knew that you were getting your limes somewhere else?” he demanded. “Why would I hold some back for you when I knew that you were cutting corners and getting your supplies from a pirate?”

“Pirate? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Marilyn replied, mentally counting to ten so that she didn’t lose her temper with this man. “You were charging double our agreed upon price, I had no choice but to shop around,” she accused, indignant.

“And you decide to buy from a lowlife who stole his product from legitimate suppliers while they were on the docks, waiting to be loaded into the transport ships. This man carried more than limes, senora,” Carlos said, his voice heavy with meaning.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Carlos, all I know is that I need limes and I need them fast. Please, I was a loyal customer of yours for years…isn’t there something that you can do?” Marilyn hated to beg, but she was running out of options.

“What assurance do I have that you’re not just going to dump me again when Pedro comes around?” he growled.

“Pedro is dead, so I’m thinking it’s a pretty safe bet that I won’t be doing business with him,” she went for sheer shock value, hoping to jar some sort of reaction from the hardball business man.

Silence on the other end. Then finally, “Fine, I can do half your normal amount, with a four percent upcharge, by Friday,” Carlos offered, sounding far less hostile.

“A two percent upcharge, and I need it by Wednesday at the latest,” Marilyn fired back, knowing full well how the game was played.

“Fine, fine, but I want the money up front until the crisis is over, no invoicing,” he groused.

“Seriously, Carlos? You know that I always pay my bills in full and on time,” she challenged.

“Half up front, half invoiced, that’s how we’re gonna play it until the shortage is done. I save limes for you, you pay me half up front. Other businesses would kill for this deal,” he said magnanimously.

“Poor word choice, Carlos, but fine, you have a deal. I’ll see you Wednesday morning, bright and early,” Marilyn said firmly, hiding her relief.

“With a check,” he reminded her again.

“With a check.”

**

As promised, Carlos had his son deliver Marilyn’s limes bright and early Wednesday morning, so she and Kelcie only had to ration the lime juice for a day. Now they could almost go back to normal production, but with fewer high concentration items like pies and more “flavored” items like cupcakes and cheesecakes, supplementing with pies and cakes in flavors other than lime. They went to work immediately, making up for lost time and product.

Marilyn was extremely concerned about Tiara. She’d been moping about ever since Drew had been taken in to the police station. She had misunderstood what had happened. Drew wasn’t actually arrested for a crime, he was merely being questioned as a “person of interest” in the murder of Pedro Vasquez, and had been released shortly after her arrival at the station.

“Honey, do you think that there’s any chance that Drew had something to do with Pedro’s death?” she’d asked her daughter upon her return from the police station.

“How can you even say that, Mom?” Tiara cried. “Drew is sweet and kind and enlightened…there’s no way that he had anything to do with that. It’s so ridiculous – why would anyone kill one of their business associates on their own boat and then sink it, knowing the body would be discovered when the boat resurfaced? That makes no sense whatsoever,” she asserted bitterly. “Someone was obviously trying to set him up, and all we have to do is find out who, and why.”

“Tiara…” she began, trying to say what she had to say without making her distraught daughter even more upset. “This is a job for the police. I think the best and safest thing that you can do is to just allow them to do their investigation and figure out what happened. I don’t want to see you involved in this type of potentially dangerous situation,” she said carefully.

The young woman’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. “Well, news flash, Mom…I’m already involved. I was the last person on Drew’s boat with him, and the police are taking a long hard look at me too, so when I say I’ve gotta figure this out, I mean it,” Tiara retorted rudely.

Marilyn raised her eyebrows and her irritated daughter sighed, knowing what was coming. “Young lady, I know you’re upset, but that does not give you the right to lash out at me when I’m voicing my concern. I’m not the enemy here, and I’d appreciate it if you’d treat me with the respect that years of loving you deserves,” she admonished.

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. It’s just so frustrating,” Tiara shook her head, despondent.

“I know it is, honey,” Marilyn replied, wrapping her in a hug. “We’ll get through this…we always do.”

“Good morning, Carlos!” Tiara called out when the supplier’s truck pulled up to the back door. “I didn’t realize that you’re doing deliveries personally now. Is it my incredible grace and charm?” she teased, trying desperately to remain cheerful, despite the cloud of suspicion that hovered around her “sort of” boyfriend, Drew.

“You know it, senorita,” the supplier’s teeth were white against his bronzed skin. “Ever since that pirate was…put out of business, I’ve had more accounts than I can deal with, so my son is delivering, my nephew is delivering, and lucky you, you get my personal attention,” he grinned, unlocking the overhead door on the back of the truck.

“Lucky me,” Tiara laughed, propping the back door open so that there was a direct route to the cold storage.

Despite Carlos’s protests that he “didn’t need a pretty girl to help him carry boxes,” the athletic young woman helped him unload the truck, stacking the crates of limes in the cold storage.

“You know, I heard that there was some pretty bad stuff that went down in the marina,” the supplier remarked as he was preparing the invoice for her to sign off on.

The genial smile slipped a bit. “What do you mean?” Tiara asked, trying her best to look and sound casual.

“Word around the docks is that it was a drug deal that went bad. That’s what got Pedro killed,” Carlos said in a low voice, scrutinizing the invoice with more care than was warranted.

“Well, then, as sad as it was, people should know better than to get involved with drugs,” she replied, eyeing the supplier and trying to figure out what he was trying to say without saying it.

“I’m no fan of that miserable pirate, but it wasn’t just Pedro who was involved, senorita…that’s all I’m saying,” he handed her the clipboard and raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that someone was trying to set Drew up by killing Pedro on his boat and then sinking it,” Tiara’s jaw was set.

“Is it?” Carlos asked, taking back the clipboard. “That’s something I’d really want to be sure about if I were you, senorita,” he said, swinging himself up into his truck. With a wave and a meaningful look, he was gone, leaving Tiara standing there, more confused than ever. There was no way that she was going to tell her mother about the conversation that had just taken place, Marilyn had been dead set against her relationship with Drew from the very beginning. She wasn’t about to give her more ammunition, fueled by Carlos’s paranoid insinuations, to suspect the innocent man.

**

“Tiara…did you count the crates for our latest order from Carlos?” Marilyn called from inside the cold storage.

“Yes, of course. I helped him bring them in, why?” her daughter asked, trotting over.

“Because we only have a little more than half the amount that we should have, but we’ve been charged for the entire amount,” she frowned, glancing from the invoice in her hand to the stacks of crates in the storage room.

“What in the…? Mom, I swear, the boxes were all here when I left last night. I know, because the girls and I were going to have a margarita night, so I came in and grabbed a bag of limes after we closed,” Tiara explained, befuddled.

“Well, they couldn’t have just disappeared. What happened to them?” her mother wondered.

“I have no idea…” They both stood, puzzled, not knowing what to do.

“Is anything else missing?” Tiara asked, her heart beating a bit faster.

“That’s a good question. You go check the front, I’ll check the office and the kitchen,” Marilyn sprang into action. Nothing seemed out of place in the office or kitchen, but when she passed by the back door, she noticed that it was slightly ajar. Her heart in her throat, she called out for Tiara to come join her, and pushed it open even further, seeing that a small, folded piece of cardboard from a matchbook cover had been wedged into the strike plate, preventing the door from locking. Tiara reached for the cardboard, and Marilyn’s hand shot out, preventing her from touching it.

“Let’s leave that in place,” she advised. “The police will need to see that.” She pulled her phone from her pocket, located Detective Bernard Cortland’s phone number in her directory, and gave him a call. He was there within minutes, having stopped at a coffee shop just down the street for his morning caffeine. The detective took Marilyn’s report, and called in a guy from the forensics team to collect evidence, dust for fingerprints, and photograph the crime scene.

Wandering around just outside the back door, Bernard surveyed the ground and stopped next to a small puddle. Lightly touching a fingertip to the substance on the ground, he brought it to his nose and sniffed, rubbing it between his fingers.

“Antifreeze,” he muttered, jotting down a note. He caught the attention of the forensics tech and had him take a sample and a photo of the puddle, and of a squashed lime  that rested a few inches from it. The matchbook cover was removed and bagged for evidence.

“Odds of solving a robbery like this are usually pretty slim,” he admitted to Marilyn, rising to his feet and wiping his fingers off on a wet wipe that the tech handed him. “Times are tough right now, and folks who are desperate to keep their businesses going will sometimes resort to crime if they feel that it’s their only option,” he grimaced.

“Does that mean you’re not going to even try?” Marilyn’s voice was a tad shrill.

Bernard sighed. “No, that’s not what I said, nor what I meant,” he explained patiently. “We’re just dealing with a lot of similar situations right now, and often coming up with nothing. I will absolutely try my best, but I can’t promise anything.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she was contrite, not meaning to have taken her frustration out on the detective. “We’ve just been dealing with a lot of stress around here lately, between Drew being investigated and keeping our head above water with the lime shortage…we’re a bit short-fused,” she confessed.

“I understand. No harm done,” Cortland closed his notebook. Noting that Tiara had gone back inside, he moved in closer to Marilyn and spoke in a low voice. “Just how well do you know Drew?” he asked.

“Honestly, not very,” she shrugged. “Tiara and I met him because he teaches a “Yoga on the Beach” class that we sometimes attend. He seems nice enough, but I really don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he seems to prefer dating younger women,” she made a face.

Bernard nodded and was about to say something when Tiara came out the back door and approached them.

“I think Carlos did this,” she confided, looking as though she felt bad for saying so.

“Carlos Mechago?” the detective clarified. “Why do you…” he began.

“That’s ridiculous,” Marilyn shook her head. “Carlos has been our supplier for years. Why on earth would he do something like this? He’s a successful businessman,” she shot down the idea.

“Yeah, exactly,” Tiara fired back. “He’s a successful businessman. Everyone needs what he has right now, and he’s charging a premium price and profiting off of the desperation of others. Think about it…if our supply gets stolen, it’s not his problem, we still have to pay him for the entire amount, and if he’s the one who stole the missing part, he can either sell it back to us again, because he knows we’ll need it, or sell it to someone else for an even higher price,” she asserted, supremely confident in her conclusion.

Detective Cortland nodded slowly, looking at Tiara with surprise. “It’s worth talking to him about,” he agreed. “If he didn’t do it, he may be able to guide us toward another supplier who might be unscrupulous enough to have resorted to this.”

“Oh, he did it, I’d bet anything that he did,” she replied. “And while you’re talking to him, you might want to ask why he’s so hateful when he talks about Pedro, the guy who died in the marina,” she added.

“I’m assuming that you have a basis for that statement,” Bernard raised his eyebrows.

“You bet I do,” Tiara nodded adamantly. “When he was here yesterday morning, he basically said that Pedro was a pirate who got what was coming to him. He even accused him of dealing drugs,” the young woman embellished, getting carried away in her attempt to clear her boyfriend’s name.

The detective looked at her closely, noting her accelerated breathing and defensive stance. “How have you and Carlos Mechago gotten along in the past?” he asked.

“Just fine,” the young woman shrugged. “This isn’t personal. It just really makes me wonder when he brought up the subject of Pedro’s death and had nothing but bad things to say about him.”

“I see,” Cortland put his notebook away again. “I’ll check it out. In the meantime, I’d suggest that you ladies be extra careful about locking up at work and at home, and just be a little bit vigilant when you’re alone,” he advised. “I’ll be trying my best to get to the bottom of this,” he assured them.