Til a Death Do Us Part: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery (9 page)

Marcello was standing there. "I should..." I started to head back into the kitchen, only to be met by Jackson and Emma yelling at each other. Great. I was trapped between two couples fighting.

I headed sheepishly back into the hallway where a sorrowful looking Marcello was saying to Pippa, "We need to talk."

"I, um..." I said, pushing past them. "Sorry, I'm just going to go outside. Give you two a chance to talk. I'll meet you at the car, Pippa."

"Rachael," she said, calling me back. "You go without me."

I stopped. "Are you sure?"

Pippa nodded while a disheartened Marcello dipped his head. "I think this might take a while."

I nodded and stepped outside. Great, already one woman down and still no sign that Emma and Jackson were done arguing. They finally spilled down the stairs towards the car.

"I'm coming," Emma said firmly. "I'm a detective, Jackson! SHE isn't," she said, shooting me a glare, which I pretended not to see. "I'm your partner."

Jackson stopped. "I'm not sure you are anymore, Emma."

"Jackson," she said, grabbing his arm. The anger faded from her face and she just looked sad all of a sudden. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"Don't worry about it, Emma," Jackson said firmly. "You stay here. Rachael is coming with me.”

"
S
o
, we're going to the girlfriend’s house, right?" I asked as Jackson started the keys in the ignition.

Jackson frowned as he swung the car sharply onto the road. "Not until we know who she actually is."

"Oh." I'd thought maybe Emma had some idea.

Jackson pressed his foot on the accelerator and brought the speed up to a level that probably toed the line of the speed limit in that neighborhood.

"I guess that's why Dylan's prints were at the crime scene," I said. "He must have met up with his girlfriend there before the whole thing even happened." I was still working on the theory that Dylan had never left the chapel. I had to trust my gut on that one.

"We still need to talk to him. Find out what else he knows."

So that's where we were going.

Jackson cast me a look. "You can come with me while I talk to him."

"At the police station?" I asked with surprise.

Jackson shook his head. "He's been let out on bail."

* * *

"
R
achael
, if this is too dangerous for you, you don’t have to come in." Jackson stopped the car in front of Dylan's house, which was far nicer than I'd expected it to be, with a neat flower garden in the front of its red brick facade.

"Stop worrying," I said. "How dangerous can it be?" I let out a little forced laugh. "She's just a woman who crashed a wedding, remember?"

And killed someone.

Jackson nodded. "Besides, I doubt she's here. The girlfriend, I mean. She would have gotten a hundred miles away by now. She won't be hanging around the guy charged with Aunt Cassie's murder." He swallowed and glanced around furtively. "And we've got back up if we need it." Jackson picked up a walkie talkie and waved it at me. "I only need to press a button."

* * *

"
W
hat are you doing here
?" Dylan asked from behind the screen door. "I've been let out on bail, fair and square."

"We're here to talk to you about another person of interest, Dylan," Jackson said. "Believe me, you're going to want to cooperate."

He looked like he wanted to do anything else, but he opened the door slowly and led us into his living room. He took a seat on a new looking sofa and refused to make eye contact with either of us.

"We're here to help you, Dylan," Jackson said matter-of-factly as he took a seat across from him. I followed his lead and sat beside him, keeping my back straight and my head held high. Jackson was projecting confidence and I needed to as well.

Jackson showed him the print out, flinging it across the coffee table. "Who is this woman?" he asked.

"I don't know," Dylan said flatly, staring at the photo.

Jackson raised his eyebrows. "You don't know the name of the woman you were kissing?" Jackson shook his head. "You'd better start talking, Dylan, or it's you who is going down for this crime. You really want to protect the woman who killed your aunt?"

Dylan dropped his head. "You don't know that she did that."

"Who is she Dylan?" Jackson leaned forward, letting Dylan know that he would not be trifled with right then.

"Her name is Megan. She’s my girlfriend! I brought her along as a guest, all right!" Dylan finally spat. "As my plus one! You're the one who said I wasn't allowed to bring a date...everyone else got one," Dylan said sulkily.

"Yeah well, everyone else isn't trying to scam the rest of their family out of their inheritance." Jackson's voice was low and his eyes were narrowed.

"I'm not trying to scam anyone," he cried. "That inheritance was rightly left to me. That's what my uncle wanted! It’s everyone else that is trying to take it away from me! I'm the one who is being ostracized, treated like the black sheep of the family! Emma is the only one who is still nice to me! The only one who actually wanted me there that day."

Jackson held his gaze while I watched. "You seemed pretty cozy with Aunt Cassie on that day, despite all the bad blood," he said. "Why were you sitting so close with her in the aisles? Seems very strange to me that she would even want to speak with you, let alone get so close."

I let out a small gasp. "You needed to get close to her, didn't you?" I said in a low voice, realizing what Dylan had been up to on that day. "Someone needed to stay with Aunt Cassie, needed to get her drunk while the other one waited in the bathroom, just waiting for nature to take its course."

Jackson stopped to stare and me and I nodded, before continuing on. "That was your role in the plan, wasn't it? Suck up to Aunt Cassie, get back into her good graces." I paused to think about this for a moment. "You probably even told her that you were thinking of dropping the lawsuit. All so that you could butter her up, distract her, and give her drinks until it was Megan's turn to do the rest."

Dylan shook his head. "No!" he cried. "No! That is not it at all!"

I leaned back a little, taken aback by the anguish in Dylan's voice. Jackson and I looked at each other.

"I had no idea what she was planning, okay?" Dylan asked, his face contorted in sorrow. "All Megan told me was that it was a good idea for me to bury the hatchet with Aunt Cassie, that I should try and make good with her for Emma's special day. And I thought it was a good idea as well. After all, I'm sick of being treated like the family outcast. Megan told me to be nice to her, fetch her drinks...but I had no idea. You've got to believe me."

Jackson was still staring at Dylan intently, but his face had softened a little bit. "Why were your prints in the bathroom?"

Dylan cringed a little before he answered. "We were in the ladies' room making out earlier, if you really have to know."

I looked him straight in the eyes. "So, you never left the chapel. Is that right?"

He thought about this for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah. I never left the chapel the entire time."

I sat up straight and stared at Jackson. "I told you so."

He ignored me and turned his focus back to Dylan.

"Have you seen her since, Dylan?" I asked.

"No," he said, staring me straight in the eyes, and I believed him. "She has disappeared off the face of the planet."

Jackson and I both sighed a little. That was going to make finding her hard.

"Why do you think she did it, Dylan?" I asked.

He scoffed softly. "I know why she did it," he said sadly. "The money, of course. The money I would inherit if Aunt Cassie was out of the picture." He shook his head. "I always thought that she was interested in me for more than just the money, though. I guess I was wrong."

"Dylan," Jackson said. "Will you help us find her?"

He thought about it for a moment. He seemed genuinely torn by some misguided sense of loyalty. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I’ll help."

I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye in the kitchen. But when I actually looked, there was nothing there.

"We should get going," Jackson said.

Suddenly I saw a figure duck behind the wall of the kitchen. A woman's figure.

I slowly reached out and tapped Jackson on the arm to get his attention before nodding back towards where the figure had been darting around. "She's here," I whispered.

I didn't mean for Dylan to overhear but he did and he swung around in his seat, staring at the kitchen. "Who’s here?" he said, his voice full of fear.

"Dylan, stay calm," Jackson commanded. He stood up and I saw his fingers reach instinctively for the gun in his side pocket.

Dylan stood up, ignoring Jackson's command as he sprinted towards the kitchen.

"Dylan!"

But it was too late. He was already chasing after Megan.

"You wait here," Jackson said to me.

"No way," I said. "I'm coming with you."

"Rachael, it's not safe, you don't have anything to protect yourself," he said.

"I've been in worse situations than this," I assured him, following before he had a chance to stop me again.

I could tell he wanted to stop me but he had a more pressing matter. He ran ahead to the kitchen and pulled his gun out before he stepped through the door.

Megan was holding Dylan, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other holding a knife, pressing it to his throat.

"Get out of here," she hissed. "Leave now and I won't hurt him."

Dylan was struggling to breath. "Please," he gasped, looking desperately at Jackson.

"Rachael, get out of here!" Jackson yelled. But I was frozen, stuck in position. The fear in Dylan's eyes seemed to hypnotize me and I couldn't move.

"Dylan," I said, taking a step towards him. He might have been a selfish fool but he didn't deserve to die at the hands of this maniac.

"Rachael, what are you doing?" Jackson pushed me out of the way for my own protection as I tried to get close to Dylan.

Megan pressed the knife tighter against Dylan's neck. "I'm not kidding. Leave. Now!"

Jackson pushed me back into the living room before he refocused the gun on Megan. His walkie talkie fell to the ground and I reached for it. I had to call for help. We needed back up.

But before I could even press a button, I heard the sound of the door slamming open and turned violently to see a bunch of uniformed officers, led by Detective Emma Crawford, charging in through the living room with guns drawn.

I followed back into the kitchen, just in time to see Emma approach a startled Megan, disarming her in a single, violent motion.

She grabbed Megan from behind and placed the cuffs on her. "Megan Watson...you are under arrest for the murder of my Aunt Cassie."

* * *

A
fter the officers
had dragged Megan away, Jackson and Emma were left, standing in the corner of the yard.

I tried not to watch but it was impossible for me to resist at least a little glance out of the corner of my eye.

"I think..." Emma started to say.

Jackson placed a hand on her arm and nodded. "It just wasn't right. Maybe...maybe this all worked out for the best."

I looked away, giving them a few moments privacy.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. Pippa.

Marcello explained everything.
She wrote.
It’s not as bad as I thought, but its not good either Rach. When are you coming home? I need to talk to you.

I quickly sent a reply as Jackson started to walk over to me. Emma was already back in her own car and she'd pulled away from the curb before Jackson even reached me.

"Rachael," Jackson started to say.

"It's okay," I said, interrupting him. "You don't need to say anything. It's been a really long day—week, actually—and we all need some time to think," I said softly.

Jackson nodded slowly and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. "I just want to let you know, though. I know that Emma technically made the arrest, but it was you who solved the case." He smiled at me. "Please know that."

I shrugged a little. "All that matters is that the right person was caught in the end." I took a deep breath. "Right now, I need to get back to focusing on my bakery. And my best friend. There are a few things I have been neglecting lately."