Til a Death Do Us Part: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery (8 page)

"Rachael!"

"I think we should go through the photos again," I said, lifting up the top of the laptop.

"Rachael, you're just procrastinating," Pippa said.

"I am not," I said firmly. "I'm trying to solve a murder." I could still feel her hot eyes on me. "Even if I am procrastinating, it’s a pretty good hobby to spend time on, isn't it?"

Pippa sighed with resignation. "What are you hoping to find, though? You and Jackson went through these photographs already, right?"

I shook my head. "I thought so too. But there are photos that must have been added since then," I said. "That photograph of Surfer Dude is proof of that. I think we should comb through them all again."

Even though I WAS procrastinating, I was also being serious. We might have solved the mystery of Surfer Dude, but there was still one very large matter that hadn't been settled. No matter what else had happened that night, we still hadn't gotten any closer to figuring out who killed Aunt Cassie.

"Wait a second," Pippa said. "Who is that?" She pressed her finger against the screen. "Talking to Surfer Dude."

"Well, move your finger away so that I can see," I said, pushing her aside gently.

I frowned. The photo showed Surfer Dude deep in what looked like serious conversation with a woman with jet black hair, who I didn’t recognize from the wedding. And a quick flick through the photos didn't show her in any other picture, or talking or interacting with any other guests, except for a fleeting shot of her and Dylan.

"That's strange," I said. "Jackson made it seem like Dylan was on the outs with everyone, but he looks like he's close to this woman. Whoever she is."

"And so is Surfer Dude," Pippa murmured. "What, was he having an affair with her as well as Emma?"

"Pippa," I said. "We need to find this woman."

I
'd finally gotten
up the guts to turn up at Jackson's home. It was evening by the time I finally dragged myself across town. And he wasn't answering the door. I knocked again. I wanted to just leave. I didn't want to be the messenger that got shot. But I took a deep breath and knocked again. I knew he was home because before I'd walked up the steps the TV was blaring and now it was conspicuously silent.

When he still didn't answer, I called out, "Jackson, I know you’re in there. I heard you watching Wedding Hunters!"

There was a reluctant grumble and then I heard the shuffling of his footsteps.

"Rachael, I'm not sure you should be here," Jackson said when he finally opened the door a little.

"Well, you didn't give me much choice. You're not answering my calls, and your sergeant said you hadn't been at the station all day."

I looked up at him and noticed that he hadn't shaved and he was wearing a woolen pullover instead of his suit. I guessed he hadn't been working at all that day.

"I've got something I need to tell you," I said firmly.

"If it's about Emma, I'd really rather you didn't," he said. "I know that Emma didn't kill Aunt Cassie, no mater what crazy theory you might come up with."

I kept eye contact with him. "I know she didn't kill Aunt Cassie as well. That's...that's not the news I've got to tell you." I swallowed. "It is about Emma, though."

He hesitated for ages before he finally pulled the door back. "This better be good then, Rachael."

I wasn't sure about good. Actually, I was pretty sure it was going to be anything
but
good. I took a deep breath and followed him into his living room, trying to ignore the clutter and discarded take-out boxes out of politeness.

I didn't even know where to start, and I hadn't come up with a plan for how to break the news to him. I decided I was just going to blurt this out.

"Jackson, I discovered something about Emma."

I caught him roll his eyes and I stopped. "I really don't think I want to listen to this, Rachael." All his defenses were up and I knew I was going to have a hard time getting him to even let me stay, let alone finish what I had to say.

"Please just listen to me, Jackson," I said. "I know this is going to be tough. I'm about to tell you some things that are going to be hard, and painful for you to hear. But you've got to listen to them."

He took a seat in his recliner and looked up at me. I noted that he hadn't offered me a seat but I ignored that and carried on. "Jackson, there's no easy way to say this."

He looked up at me expectantly. I think my own nervousness must have made him sympathetic towards me because he gently said, "Go on. It's okay."

I realized I'd been pacing back and forth but I stopped and looked at him. "I know who Surfer Dude is now. Who Rich Robinson is. He's, well, he's the reason Emma didn't want to marry you."

Jacksons' face was creased in confusion as he tried to take in this information. "What are you..." But a flicker of realization crossed his face. He was staring into thin air. "He was there for her, wasn't he?" he murmured. "He was there to stop the wedding." He focused and looked up at me. "Is that where Emma is now? Is she with him?"

I nodded sadly. "I think so," I whispered. "Jackson, I'm so sorry. Really I am. I know you probably don't believe me, but I really, truly am."

"It's okay," he said.

I let out a breath. "Somehow, forgive me if I'm wrong, but you don't really seem all that surprised."

He nodded and looked up at me. "I had a feeling...after that second time I went back to his apartment and Frankie was there."

I sat down across from him. "What happened that day?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged a little. "Not much. But I knew something was up. That Frankie guy recognized my name like he knew who I was. And when I tried to push my way into his apartment, he stopped me of course, but I saw a photo of Surfer Dude on a shelf. Pretty strange to have a photo of a guy if you've never met him, and you're only renting from. I figured he was covering for Surfer Dude one way or another." Jackson looked at me with glum eyes. "But the way he flinched at the mention of my name, that told me something else. That it was personal. That it was me in particular that he was keeping the information from."

I nodded. "He must have known that you were the husband—well, the intended husband—of the girl his buddy has ran off with."

Jackson shook his head. "Maybe it's all for the best." He leaned forward and stared into my eyes. "Don't you think that, Rachael?"

I looked away and stared at the ground. "I...I don't know," I said softly.

Jackson reached out and grabbed my hand, and I had to stop myself from gasping.

"About what you said the other day," he whispered.

I kept staring at the ground. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that."

"Well, maybe we should talk about it," he said. "After all, Emma is gone. I've got nothing to feel guilty about now."

I pulled my hand away. "Jackson, I think you're just emotional after what you've discovered. I don't think you really mean this."

"Rach," he said, reaching for my hand again. "I do mean this."

But I removed my hand again. I looked him in the eyes. "You sent me away yesterday," I said. "You wouldn't even return my calls."

"It's been a difficult time," he said softly. "That doesn't mean I don't know what I want."

This time, I let him grab my hand. As I stared back into his eyes, I started to wonder if maybe he was right. Maybe he did know what he wanted, and this whole thing with Emma absconding with Surfer Dude just helped to clarify things in his mind. Maybe it wasn't just a reflex reaction.

Jackson pulled his hand away and smiled warmly at me. "Maybe we should get some dinner."

I nodded. "That sounds nice."

There was a knock at the door. Jackson frowned. "Who would be here at this time of night?"

"You didn't already order food, did you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, I was just planning to have cereal for dinner before you got here."

Yikes.

"Maybe it's about the case," I whispered. "It could be important. You should answer it."

I stood in the living room, waiting, while he went to answer the door. I was so consumed in my own thoughts I was barely listening to what was going on at the door. I couldn't believe those words had really come out of Jackson's mouth.
Had they?
Or was I just imagining them?

I managed to lower myself onto a chair.
Maybe this was all for the best...Emma running out on the wedding...her affair with Surfer Dude...all of it.

Obviously not the murder of Aunt Cassie. We could have done without that.

But apart from that, it seemed like everything else had worked out perfectly. Emma was happy, Surfer Dude was happy. And now Jackson and I could be happy. What seemed like a tragedy on the outside—a woman running out on her wedding—might actually all be for the best.

My stomach was warm and I smiled to myself a little as I settled into the chair.

Then I heard Jackson's voice as he opened the door.

"Emma," he said. "You're back."

I
wished
I was anywhere else. I knew I should run away, or at least leave the room, but I remained glued to the seat while I listened to shards of their conversation coming from the hallway.

I wondered if Jackson had forgotten I was even there. "Emma...you...what are you doing here?"

I struggled to guess the emotion just from his voice, without seeing his face. I couldn't work out whether he was furious, relieved, happy...or none of those. He mostly just sounded speechless.

"Jackson," Emma said. "It's good to see you."

Good to see him? She had some nerve showing up and saying that.

Jackson practically said as much right back to her. "Oh, it's good to see me? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just slam this door right in your face."

Emma was silent for a moment. She was probably having trouble thinking of that one good reason.

My phone began to buzz and I quickly caught it before it made a sound. I realized right then that I didn't want to be 'caught' by Emma and Jackson. I wanted to eavesdrop on their conversation, whether that was right or wrong. Almost definitely wrong.

I quickly checked my screen. Pippa. I'd have to call her back. I shoved it back in my pocket and kept listening.

"It was a mistake," Emma pleaded. "Please, Jackson, I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't thinking."

"Ha!" He let out a laugh that echoed right through the house. "You were thinking enough to not call me all week. I haven't even heard from you, Emma! You can't make this seem like it was all just an accident when you have been deliberately hiding this entire week!"

Emma didn't say anything so I was left to picture the scene. In my head, she was standing there in the wedding dress she had still not taken off, soaking wet from wandering the wilderness, her head dropped. Maybe she was even dropping to her knees as she begged Jackson's forgiveness. I listened silently for what came next.

My phone buzzed again.
Not now.

I quickly looked down at the screen. Pippa.

I've found something! Call me back.

I bit my lip and considered calling. I could dash out the back, take my coat and not come back. That would be for the best. I should be giving them some privacy, after all.

"Were you with him?" Jackson asked.

"Who?" Emma asked.
She's gotta be kidding, right?

"Surfer..." Jackson stopped himself and cleared his throat before using his real name. "Rich," he spat. "Rich Robinson."

I held my breath for the answer. It was a long time coming. But finally Emma said yes.

I knew it.

There was a real feeling of vindication over the fact that I had been right. Well, maybe not right about every single thing. I'd thought Emma had killed Aunt Cassie. I'd actually been rather embarrassingly firm about that.

My phone buzzed again.

I'll call you back,
I texted.

It sounded like Jackson was breathing deeply as he figured out how to react to Emma's confession.

"But it was all a big mistake," she said, pleading with him.

"Who is he?" Jackson asked, cutting her off.

"You know who he is."

"I mean, who is he to you?"

Emma's voice was teary. "I met him a couple of months back, while I was doing the coffee run one morning at Bakermatic. We... We...." She couldn't get the words out. "Jackson, I never thought he'd actually show up at the wedding. But when I saw him... Well, it confused me."

"I'm still waiting for that one good reason I shouldn't slam this door in your face," Jackson said in a low voice.

"I know how angry you must be with me."

"Do you even know what has been going on here?" Jackson spat. "Do you even care about your Aunt Cassie?"

"Jackson, I didn't know any of that was going on. I had my phone off."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I know."

"I had no idea. That's why I'm back now."

Jackson was very quiet. Ouch. "So, that's the only reason then, is it?" he asked quietly. I was having trouble hearing now so I got up quietly and crept over to the wall so I could hear better now that they were getting emotional.

"It's not the only reason," Emma whispered. "I wanted to see you." I heard her take a step towards him and he took a step backwards.

"Don't. Do you have any idea what I have been going through? For one thing, I've had to solve this case on my own."

Um, ouch again. My mouth dropped open in offense.

"I'm sure you had a little help," Emma scoffed.

Jackson took a long time to react to that little retort. "Rachael has been helping me, yes," he said. "If that's what you're referring to." He suddenly stopped talking and I thought, uh-oh. Mentioning my name was going to remind him that I was there in the next room.

I quickly straightened up and hopped out into the hall, revealing myself before they could catch me snooping. "Hey there!" I said, way too cheery as I waved at a shocked Emma.

She wasn't wearing a wedding dress at all, which made sense of course, but it still threw me. She was wearing jeans and a cardigan and her hair was tied back neatly. She looked pretty. Tired, exhausted maybe, but still pretty.

"Rachael," she said, looking at me in shock, then back at Jackson for an explanation. "What’s going on here?"

"I hardly think I owe you an explanation for anything."

My phone was buzzing so incessantly that I had to look at it.

Rachael! It's about that girl in the photo that your surfer guy is talking to! I think I know who she is! Call me back!

"I really think you ought to leave," Emma said to me. She had her arms crossed and she took an authoritative step towards me.

"She doesn't have to go anywhere," Jackson said putting an arm out to stop her from entering the house. "You're the one who needs to leave, Emma."

I held my hand up to try to quiet them. "Guys, I think I found something."

* * *

"
I
've been doing
a lot of invest..." Pippa stopped talking as Emma stepped into the living room behind me. "Oh."

I saw Emma take quick stock of my apartment with her eyes. I could tell that the mismatched decor and furniture didn't impress her much. She especially seemed to screw her nose up when her eyes hit the sofa, which Pippa was clearly using as a bed.

"Please, sit down," I said, before realizing that without the use of the sofa/bed, I didn't have enough seats for all of us. I sat on Pippa's bed and she sat beside me, with Jackson on the recliner. Emma remained standing.

Pippa seemed a little flustered now. "I thought it was going to be just you...MAYBE you and Jackson," she whispered to me, but not quiet enough for Emma to not overhear.

"I think Emma might actually be able to help," I said. "She knows Dylan, after all." I took the laptop from Pippa and handed it over to her. "Do you know this woman that Surfer...um, your...your friend is talking to?" A bit awkward.

Emma blushed and it took her a few seconds before she could focus on the screen. "Why are you asking me this?" she said quietly.

"You might want to answer," Jackson said. "Because it's your darling cousin Dylan's neck on the line if you don't."

"Dylan?" she asked, looking between the three of us. "You all...you all think Dylan has something to do with this?"

Jackson raised his eyebrows. "You really have been off grid. Dylan has been charged with the murder."

Emma gasped a little. "No, Jackson, Dylan would never do something like this."

Jackson rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're too soft towards the maniac. I knew we should have never invited him to the wedding! Now look what happened!"

"I don't want to have this argument again," Emma said firmly, but like she was biting back tears. "It was right to invite him. We were close when we were little and some little family disagreement shouldn't get in the way of him being invited to my big day."

Jackson's eyes grew wide as saucers in disbelief at the words 'big day.' He was about to say something, but we were getting off track.

"Emma, I know emotions are high, but believe it or not…" I stepped up and walked over to her. "I don't believe Dylan did it, either. And I'm trying to help him."

She looked up at me gratefully. "You are?"

I nodded. "He was in the chapel the entire time, I’m sure of it." I tapped the screen of the laptop she was still holding. "This woman your friend is talking to. Do you recognize her?"

Emma studied her for a second and shook her head. Darn it. I let out an audible sigh.

"So she wasn't invited to the wedding then?" I asked. "I guess we at least know that much."

Jackson scoffed. "Well, we hardly gave Emma's secret boyfriend a plus one to the wedding, did we?"

Emma shook her head. "He wasn't the only one who didn't get one," she said bitterly, as Jackson rolled his eyes.

She turned back to me again to explain. "Dylan didn't get a plus one either." She shot a look at Jackson. "Although I wanted to give him one. All the other guests were allowed one. It seemed really unfair."

"It looks like she and your friend Rich are close though."

Jackson stood up and came over to check out the photo. "Yes. He has his arm around her in this one." He stopped speaking as his mouth dropped open. "Wait a minute, how are you looking at this photo album?" He looked at me accusingly. "Did you log onto Facebook account using my password?"

Uh-oh.

"Um," I said, gulping. "Well, yes and no. Your log-in details were still here from when you used my computer that night in the cabin."

"Cabin?" Emma snapped. "Which cabin are you talking about? Our honeymoon cabin?"

Oh, this was not good. I looked first at Jackson and then at Emma, wondering whose wrath I should face and address first.

They were both shouting over each other, at me, and at each other and I just wanted to place my hands over my ears and shout at them both to shut up.

Luckily, Pippa did it for me. "CAN YOU ALL BE QUIET FOR A SECOND!"

She stood up and came over to snatch the laptop out of Emma's hands. "As I was trying to say, before you all barged in here." She paused and looked each of us in the eyes before she continued, "I have been doing a little investigating. I actually called and spoke to some people who were there that day."

"Who?" I asked.

"Well, the owner of the old-fashioned candy bar, for one." Pippa flicked through a few more photos. The woman was there again, in a clearer shot, and she was shown eating from a rather large candy gift bag overflowing with sweets.

Pippa continued talking. "And this woman was dressed for a wedding, attended a wedding, and took gift bags intended for wedding guests." Pippa raised her eyebrows. "But she was not on the wedding guest invite list."

I narrowed my eyes. "So then who is she?"

Pippa flicked through the photos again and brought up a large shot with two faces zoomed in. It was a photo of our mysterious guest, locking lips with…

Not Surfer Dude.

It was Dylan she had her lips and face firmly pressed into.

Dylan.
"I would say she is Dylan's girlfriend," Pippa said triumphantly. "Looks like he decided to bring a plus one after all."

* * *

J
ackson and Emma
were arguing in the kitchen about who was going where. Meanwhile, Pippa and I were huddled in the hallway, putting our coats on, ready and focused on the actual task at hand.

"I'm coming," Pippa said firmly.

I nodded. She'd been the one helping anyway, not Emma.

"Maybe we should just go ahead without either of them," I said, laughing a little. "Not that I know exactly where we're supposed to be going."

"Did something happen between you two?" Pippa asked abruptly.

I looked up sharply. "Why do you say that?"

She shrugged. "I just caught some awkwardness between the three of you. And Emma keeps shooting you death glares."

I swallowed. "We don't have time to worry about that now."

Pippa nodded. "Come on, let's get the car..." She stopped in the doorway, pausing mid sentence.