Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (23 page)

“Back off.” I hobbled to the kitchen to start another batch of cookies, since the customer before Mrs. Hogan had bought several dozen for a party that night.

Shawn, Lenny, Honey and Kat had spent the previous evening cleaning up the debris in the kitchen while Jerry came over and hung a new door. It had taken several hours, but eventually the space became usable again, though we found bits of debris all over the place in nooks and crannies that had to be cleaned up before we did our morning baking, and I would have to replace a few of the cake pans that had been drying on the rack near the door.

Though Shawn let the subject drop, he followed me into the kitchen, as he had been doing all day, and took a stool in the corner where he’d be out of the way. “I could help with that.”

“Not without a food handlers permit, you can’t.” I doubted anyone would actually check and fine me, but I was being stubborn and wanted to make him suffer and be bored if he was going to be so pushy. Besides, I had no idea if he could cook and wasn’t going to risk him messing up.

While I worked, I waited impatiently for Lenny’s return and Shawn didn’t try to start a conversation. I sold a few goodies to people who came into the shop as Shawn hovered in the doorway behind me. I wiped down all the counters with sanitizer and looked at upcoming orders to plan my next few days.

Finally Lenny came back in, grinning from ear to ear. “Check your email,” he told me.

I sat at the computer, wondering what this was all about, and found an email with another cake request in it. But this time it had Lenny’s information in it. “So what does that prove?”

“If you check the IP address, you’ll find it’s the one for Michael’s house. They have unsecured WiFi, and anyone could have hooked into it from the street with a laptop—or even a smart phone that is WiFi enabled—just like I did. So no matter where the email came from, it’s not proof that Michael sent it.” He smiled in that self-satisfied way that usually irked me, but made me want to high-five him this time instead.

“It’s not proof Michael didn’t send it, either,” I told him.

“Of course it’s not, but maybe we should see what we can do about proving that.” Lenny rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He always had a love for dramatics.

Much against Shawn’s wishes, when the day was over, we went back to Michael’s house to talk to him. Lenny came along; I hoped he would be able to get more information out of the teen than I had. Lenny would understand him in a way I probably couldn’t. At least, that was my hope.

Though Shawn accompanied us, I made him wait in the living room with Mrs. Hogan, which was probably pure torture—and after the mean things he’d said about her and her son, just what he deserved. Or not, but I didn’t have time to worry about that at the moment. He oozed the aura of cop—or so Lenny said—and I was afraid Michael might clam up if Shawn was there.

Michael was in his room, lying on the bed in his clothes, on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. “Go away,” he said before he even looked to see who was there.

“I brought you some cookies. And a friend who wants to meet you.” The cookies had worked well enough the first time, right? I decided I might as well try them again.

“I don’t care,” Michael said, but he glanced in my direction. It must have been the promise of cookies.

“Sorry, you need to work on being more convincing next time.” I sat on the side of the bed. “We think we might be able to help you, but you need to give us some information, and give it to us straight. None of this lying.”

He snorted in disgust. “What’s the point? The cops are doing their best to pin this whole thing on me anyway. It’s not like there’s anything we can do about it. I don’t know why my mom even bothered trying. Seriously, I’m a lost cause. Just leave the cookies and go away.” There was a slight curve to his lips when he said this last part, which I took as invitation to keep pushing.

“We come with the cookies. We’re a package deal, sorry.”

Lenny flipped on the bedroom light and sat in the chair at the computer desk, sliding it over closer to him.

I handed the treats to Michael.

“We want to talk to you,” Lenny said.  “I think we might be able to prove you didn’t do it, or at least throw enough suspicion on the thing that they can’t pin it on you without something more.”

Michael shot him a look of disbelief. “Why would you care? I don’t even know you.”

“No,” Lenny said, smiling. “But I think I know you. In fact, I’d just bet I know you very well.” He pushed Michael’s leg out of the way so he could prop his feet on the corner of the bed. “In fact, I bet I could tell you a whole lot about yourself that would surprise you, but that’s not why I’m here. Today I want to find out what happened when Eric died. And where you were during the times when Tess was attacked would be handy too.”

Michael looked at me. “Attacked? What does he mean?”

I pointed to the little scabs and the large bruise on my forehead. “You think I got all this in the line of duty while making wedding cakes?” I looked so un-gorgeous right now. It boggled the mind that Shawn kept hanging around. “No, someone tried to shoot me through the side window of my car a few days ago, and that was fun compared to yesterday.”

 He pushed himself up against the headboard like a crab trying to scamper out of sight. “Well, it wasn’t me.”

I chuckled, though it was mostly for show. “I really didn’t think you did it. But we think this is all related. If you didn’t hurt me,
couldn’t
have hurt me, either on Saturday or yesterday, then you’re probably off the hook—unless they can find DNA or something.”

“What happened yesterday?” he asked. His brow furrowed. “Wait—that was
your
place where the bomb went off? One of the guys said they thought it was the fabric shop next door.”

Obviously the idea worried him, which made me feel better. I didn’t think he was particularly good at hiding his feelings, but I’d rely on Lenny’s take when we finished here.

“Where were you?” I asked.

“Yesterday, what time?”

“About four.”

He pointed in triumph. “I was at a baseball game. I’m really good. Our team has won games with people all over the place. We played in Prescott from three until about five. No way that was me. And on Saturday we traveled to Phoenix. So unless it happened before nine or after five, chances are, I wasn’t in the area.”

“Well, that’s going to help.” I felt relief that he couldn’t have hurt me. I hadn’t thought it was him, but hadn’t dared cross him off my list before now. “Did the police ask you about this?”

He shook his head. “No one asked me about anything except the day Eric was killed.”

Michael turned to Lenny and studied him. “So what’s with you? How come you’re here?”

“I work at the pastry shop with Tess.”

“Really? You cook all day, and put sprinkles on cupcakes and stuff?” Michael grinned at Lenny and crossed his arms over his chest, as if enjoying the joke. “You don’t look like a wuss.”

Lenny chuckled. “Real men cook. Chicks totally dig it. Didn’t anyone tell you that?”

“Give me a break. The guys would laugh me out of town if I started baking. Even flipping burgers would be better. Don’t you have any other skills?”

Lenny nodded. “Lots. In fact, I have a few that got me in trouble when I was your age.”

“Yeah? Too bad.” Michael’s face crumpled with false concern. “Did you get your knuckles rapped?”

Lenny appeared unfazed by Michael’s patronizing tone. “If you consider jail time a knuckle rap, then yeah, you could say that. Personally, I didn’t think jail was much fun. That’s one of the reasons I looked for something different; something I loved that wouldn’t get me sent back inside.”

Michael’s brows lifted in surprise and he leaned forward. “What did you do?”

Lenny laughed. “I’m totally not encouraging you, kid. You don’t want to go that route. Trouble is no fun, and I can see it written all over you, just like it was on me.”

“Is this where you tell me that I can still make better choices, and that if I don’t straighten up and get better friends, I’m doomed to a wasted life?” He said it as if he’d heard the diatribe a thousand times.

“Sounds like you already know the lecture, so I’ll skip it. But you know where following your friends is going to lead you?” Lenny asked when he stood to leave.

Michael smirked. “To jail.”

“If you’re lucky.” Lenny opened the door to the hallway and stood in the half-light. “Most of my friends from back home are dead or so hopped up on drugs that they don’t know which way is up. Jail sounds like a nice place in comparison, doesn’t it?”

Michaels’ eyes bugged. I stood and followed Lenny out the door. I didn’t think it would help Michael—no one could help him but himself, but with luck maybe he’d see where he was going before it was too late.

Shawn rose immediately when we entered, looking pleased to be able to leave. We stopped for a few minutes to speak with Mrs. Hogan, reassuring her as much as I reasonably could, considering I still didn’t know who the killer was, and I was going to have to prove the real killer’s guilt to take her son completely off Tingey’s list of suspects.

When we reached the car, I took in a deep breath to clear my head. “I guess we need to call Tingey. The kid has alibis for both attacks on me. He’s on some traveling baseball team.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Shawn pulled out his phone. He walked ahead of us, keeping his eyes on the surroundings, casing it for danger.

Lenny and I walked slower, enjoying the quiet of the night.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

He didn’t respond for a long moment. “I can totally see myself in his eyes eight years ago. I had things worse, was in deeper, but he could go south with only the slightest nudge.” He shook his head. “Why are kids so stupid sometimes?”

I laughed. “Come on, we’re all pretty stupid sometimes. I started a pastry shop in a little town in the middle of the desert. You—you’re the stupidest one of all because you followed me here with only the promise of a piddling paycheck, leaving behind the woman you love as if it were no big deal.”

Lenny bristled. “That’s different.”

“Yeah, it’s always different, isn’t it?” I stopped at the passenger side door of Shawn’s car since I refuse to ride in Lenny’s little potato unless absolutely necessary, and I didn’t feel up to driving again yet. “Look, it’s your life and your decision, and only you can know what’s really right for you,” I told Lenny. “But the truth is, we both came here because we were running from something. Or rather from someone. The difference between me and you is that my someone wasn’t worth keeping. Can you say that about Kat?”

Lenny didn’t answer, so I climbed inside by Shawn, who was already behind the wheel. We didn’t speak the rest of the way home.

After Lenny took off that night, Shawn hung around my place. Kat headed to bed, though I didn’t know whether that was because she was already tired, or if she wanted to give us privacy. Either way, Shawn took immediate advantage of it.

“I want to apologize,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

“For what, exactly?” I asked as I pulled a can of garbanzo beans and a bag of chips from my cupboard. I was hungry despite the fact that we’d eaten dinner earlier.

“You don’t know?” Apparently that possibility dumbfounded him because he stopped and blinked a couple of times.

“Oh, no, I know why you
should
be apologizing; I just want to see if you know what you’re apologizing for.” I grabbed lemon juice and a bunch of garlic for hummus. “Sometimes guys just say they are sorry to get hard feelings taken care of, but don’t actually understand what they did, so they can’t stop themselves from doing it again.”

“All right, here goes.” He let out a long breath and started talking faster than usual, as if afraid he wouldn’t get it all out if he spoke at a normal speed. “I know I’m being pushy, and I’ve been ragging on Lenny, and that he’s a good friend of yours. I don’t have a right to do that. I know I’m not a major component of your life, so I don’t have any say in how you live it.” He sucked in another breath and continued talking slower this time, his voice going softer, and a bit husky. “It’s just . . . I saw my life pass before my eyes when you were hurt yesterday, and it was all too easy to imagine another scenario where you weren’t mostly behind that door; where you weren’t shielded at all.”