Books, Brownies and Murder Page 2

  “I don’t think Ronnie’s dating Eddie,” she interjected calmly.

  “No?” Marie asked, feigning interest.

  “She told me they broke up a few weeks ago,” the woman told them quietly.

  “What a shame,” Marie shrugged. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Isaac, we don’t have any new scrapbooking magazines. I think the delivery has been delayed because of the snow.” Clary shook her head despairingly. There was a reason why Marie worked in the kitchen. She had very little patience.

  “That’s an interesting piece of information,” Clary interjected when she noticed that Mrs. Isaac looked a little offended.

  “Having a dentist for a husband has its uses,” Mrs. Isaac sniffed delicately, and Marie rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Listen, I was wondering if my scrapbooking club could begin meeting here?”

  “Of course, Jessica,” Clary smiled kindly. “We’d be happy to have you.” She liked Jessica. They both shared a love of thrillers that extended beyond a casual interest. The two of them had good conversations when no one else was around. Poor Mrs. Isaac suffered from social anxiety and didn’t like spending time with too many people.

  “I suppose you’ve both heard about this Eddie mess,” the bell tinkled cheerily, a second after the woman who spoke pushed her way out of the snow. She was a tall woman, with even bigger blonde hair. The smell of hairspray invaded the room and Clary had to keep herself from groaning. Erica Martine. The resident beautician who believed that she had a connection with Marie because her salon had some ridiculously bad French name. Marie despised the woman.

  “Hi, Erica,” Clary greeted calmly. Marie turned away, her expression murderous. Mrs. Isaac quietly disappeared as soon as Erica walked in. Everyone knew that when Erica started talking to you it would be a while before you could get away.

  “It’s just terrible,” Erica shook her head mournfully.

  “Yes, we were just talking about that,” Clary supplied helpfully. “We were wondering who we could ask for an update. Marie says his girlfriend works in Dr. Isaac’s office?”

  “Ronnie?” Erica asked incredulously. “Oh, no, sweethearts, she’s last month’s flavor. He’s with Kelly Moyes now. He swears its true love, as if. That man likely has something else in the works. Poor girl, she’s very nice.”

  “Good to know,” Marie said sarcastically. “We’ll ask her what’s going on.”

  “That wouldn’t do much good,” Erica shrugged. “I already spoke to her. She has no idea, the poor thing. She’s very upset, you know. Apparently, the family wouldn’t let her in to see him. Maybe one of his other girlfriends was visiting at the same time.”

  “Erica,” Clary shook her head in disbelief, “you can’t say stuff like that. The man is in the hospital.”

  “I know that,” Erica protested. “I’m just keeping myself informed. And it’s not like I’m wrong. Everyone knows the man isn’t loyal. I’m not going to change my tune just because he’s a little sick.”

  “Enough,” Marie said quickly, and Erica was about to respond when the bell rang again. Erica closed her mouth and turned her heavily made-up face to see who walked through the door. Clary felt vaguely uncomfortable when Erica had the same reaction at seeing Logan as she and Marie had reacted the previous day.

  “Logan,” Clary said quickly, giving Erica a warning look. “How is he? Is everything okay?”

  “Can I have a coffee, please?” he asked tiredly. Marie nodded and got to work. He slowly turned to Clary and she was struck by how exhausted he looked. She shook her head gently, indicating that he didn’t need to speak if he didn’t want to. He nodded gratefully and sat down heavily.

  “Hello there,” Erica said, holding out her hand as she pushed her chest out.

  “Hi,” he said dully, not really seeing what was in front of him.

  “I’m Erica,” she said, tilting her head to one side.

  Clary looked at the interaction with an amused smile, she and Marie quickly exchanged looks as she put the coffee in front of him. That one look held an entire conversation, and Clary reluctantly walked up to the window.

  “Erica,” she said wonderingly, “why is Tommy Junior walking into your salon?” It was a well-known fact that Tommy Junior was the town delinquent, and he took delight in spray painting store fronts.

  “Who?” Erica asked distractedly.

  “Oh, yeah,” Clary nodded, “that’s Tommy. I think he’s got a sack or something with him.”

  “No,” Erica gasped as she got up quickly. “No, no, no.” She rushed out of the store, not looking back. Clary quickly closed the door behind her, shutting off the blast of cold air.

  “This is an interesting town,” Logan commented thoughtfully.

  “Not really,” Clary shrugged. “It’s been quiet for ages. This is the first time something like this has happened around here.”

  “That’s just my luck,” Logan shook his head. “I come into town and someone dies. Just perfect.”

  “Eddie’s dead?” Clary gasped. Logan nodded his head tiredly. Marie gave her a horrified look and Clary felt strangely sick. She hadn’t known Eddie very well, but it was still a shock.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” Logan told them. He got up and put some money on the counter before walking out.

  “That’s horrible,” Clary said, holding her hand over her mouth.

  “It is,” Marie agreed. “It’s terrible.”

  “I wonder what happened,” Clary sat down, tapping her foot slightly as she thought.

  “No,” Marie told her sternly, shaking her head.

  “What now?” Clary asked innocently.

  “You’re not getting involved,” Marie told her seriously. “The last thing we need is police. Stay out of it, and we’ll be fine.”

  Unfortunately, she was proven wrong a couple of hours later. A customer or two were busy browsing through the forest of books, while one of the regulars lounged close to the fire.

  Clary was lying on a couch in front of the fire, reading a murder-mystery novel and Marie was mixing up a new batch of brownies. The colder weather gave them an excuse to make the brownies slightly more expensive since everyone in town had to stop by for one or two. It was their winter bestseller.

  Marie had a secret family recipe brought all the way over from France that drove everyone crazy. Somehow, she managed to get the perfect brownie each time. The end result was a rich chocolate confection with a chewy center that melted on the tongue. Customers could choose between a brownie with roasted nuts, or with white chocolate chunks.

  The most popular choice was always the original. Marie added chocolate chips that popped when you bit into them and oozed dark chocolate. Marie’s brownies were delectable, unfortunately they were so rich that most people could only stomach one at a time.

  The bell rang, and both women ignored it, expecting yet another townsperson looking for their next brownie fix. They were both caught by surprise when a man cleared his throat and they looked up to find the town’s chief of police and his deputy standing by the counter with serious expressions.

  “Officers?” Clary asked in surprise. “How can we help you?”

  “Ms. St. James,” Chief Sanchez greeted formally. He paused slightly, as if he was about to sneeze but then carried on talking. “Is it all right if we speak to Marie Bisset?”

  “I’m here,” Marie said quickly, walking out of the kitchen, wiping batter off her hands. Clary was depressed to note that she looked sophisticated while she was baking too. There was no end to Marie’s sophistication.

  “May we speak to you in private?” Deputy Peters asked timidly. He might’ve been on the police force, and Clary supposed that he was probably a good fit for the job, but he had an obvious problem when it came to women. While the deputy spoke, Chief Sanchez turned and coughed into a handkerchief.

  “You want to speak to me in private?” Marie clarified in confusion.

  “Yes, please,” Chief Sanchez said politely.

  “Is it okay if we spea
k here?” Marie asked. “I’ll feel better if Clary is around.” Clary smiled encouragingly, and Deputy Peters relaxed slightly. Clary quickly clarified her assessment of Deputy Peters. Ben Peters was good at his job, but he was terrified of one woman. Marie Bisset.

  “If that’s what you want,” Chief Sanchez said heavily. “Ms. Bisset, did you sell any brownies or chocolate products to Eddie Jones in the past three days?”

  “Excuse me, Chief Sanchez,” Marie said hesitantly. “We sell brownies to everyone in town. It’s hard to say who buys and who doesn’t.”

  “We just want to know if you sold or gave any to Eddie?”

  “We sold some to Logan yesterday,” Clary interrupted. “He said he was going to give some to Eddie and some of the other guys who are working on his shop.”

  “Thank you,” Chief Sanchez said sincerely, and Deputy Peters quickly jotted something down on his notepad. Clary and Marie exchanged looks. Loki chose that moment to start entwining himself between Clary’s legs, looking up at her curiously.

  “Have you changed your recipe recently?” Ben asked, looking up at Marie. She narrowed her eyes at him and he quickly looked down. Chief Sanchez cleared his throat uncomfortably.

  “No,” she said slowly. “It hasn’t been changed in generations. I would never.”

  “Are you sure?” Chief Sanchez asked her, looking grave.

  “I promised my grand-mère,” Marie defended. She took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. Clary stepped behind the counter to provide moral support. Marie tended to lash out when she felt cornered.

  “May we ask what all this is about?” Clary asked quickly, noticing that their exchange was beginning to attract attention from the customers.

  “We’re just asking a few routine questions,” Chief Sanchez said soothingly, but she noticed that his shoulders were tense. She nodded reluctantly, knowing that she wouldn’t get any information if she pushed now.

  “Ms. Bisset,” he continued, “did you have any type of relationship with Eddie Jones?”

  “No,” she said quickly, and Chief Sanchez looked at her in disbelief. “I mean, yes, we went on a date.”

  “I assume it didn’t end well?”

  “I’m sure you’ll learn that Eddie never ended things well,” Marie said tensely. She smiled briefly before frowning again. “What I mean to say is, Eddie wasn’t a good match for me. But it was months ago. I’ve forgotten most of it already.”

  “A lot of people have told me that this morning,” Chief Sanchez said, raising his eyebrows, “but I’ve found that a lot of them were lying. I understand that Eddie didn’t treat his women well. You don’t seem like the type of person to let things like that go.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Marie said coldly. “Eddie wasn’t worth my attention, so I didn’t give it to him.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Bisset,” Chief Sanchez said politely. “Ms. St. James, do you watch Ms. Bisset make the brownies?”

  “No,” Clary frowned. “She does a good job. I don’t need to watch her. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to help. I’m hopeless in the kitchen. Marie is in charge of the kitchen, and I take care of the books and business.”

  “So,” Chief Sanchez surmised, “she could change the recipe, or add something, and you wouldn’t know?”

  “I’d probably taste a change,” Clary pointed out.

  “Thank you,” Chief Sanchez said again. Clary felt vaguely disturbed that Ben kept making notes of everything they were saying. “That’s all. We’ll come by again soon.”

  The two men walked out of the store, and Ben kept looking over his shoulder with a worried expression on his face.

  “That was weird,” Clary said with a frown.

  “It was,” Marie agreed.

  Clary shook her head and bent down to pick up Loki who was still standing by her feet. He leaned back in her arms, purring as he stretched out his neck, indicating that he wanted to be petted.

  “You know,” Clary said thoughtfully, “they never ask this many questions when someone dies naturally.”

  “What are you saying?” Marie asked quickly.

  “I’m saying that I think Eddie was murdered.”

  “Does that make me a suspect?” Marie asked in irritation. She was staring at the door, but her thoughts were obviously miles away. Clary didn’t want to say anything, and so an uncomfortable silence settled around Loki’s purring.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey, Ben!” Clary called, running up behind him.

  The deputy stopped and looked around in confusion. His face set into a serious frown when Clary waddled up to him. Clary enjoyed the cold. She didn’t enjoy getting cold, but she enjoyed the cold weather. As a devoted bookworm, she knew that curling up with a good book was always better when the weather was miserable. That being said, if she had to venture out into the cold, she made sure that she was wearing enough layers to keep her warm.

  This meant that she always looked like a chubby snowman in the winter. She always felt that her translucent skin and bright red hair left her at a disadvantage when it was time to choose what to wear. She had to be careful, otherwise she might fade away into the stark white surroundings.

  “Clary,” he greeted hesitantly. “how can I help you?”

  “I think you already know,” Clary told him honestly.

  “How did you know where to find me?” he asked incredulously.

  “It’s lunch time,” she shrugged. “You could choose between burgers and soup for lunch. I knew Chief Sanchez isn’t feeling well, so it would probably be soup. I guessed right.”

  “Look,” Ben sighed. “I can’t talk right now, I need to get back to work. Chief is expecting me.” He kept looking away as though her presence made him uncomfortable. Clary narrowed her eyes at him while she stomped her feet and blew into her hands to keep the cold at bay.

  “We need to talk,” she told him plainly.

  “I can’t,” Ben said pleadingly. “I’ll get into trouble.”

  “We’ve been friends for what? Five years now?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, “ever since you got to town.”

  “And you’ve known Marie for about two years now? Ever since she came into town?”

  “Yes,” he answered, looking slightly confused.

  “Then you know that I’m not going to let you guys come into the shop and ask a bunch of questions then disappear. What’s going on, Ben? I need to know.”

  “I can’t tell you,” Ben said resolutely. “Trust me. Stay out of this, Clary, you don’t want to get involved in this.”

  “I’m already involved,” Clary pointed out stubbornly. “I’m going to find out one way or another, Ben. You can make this easy, or not. I don’t care.”

  “Leave it alone,” he snapped, his watery blue eyes looking more afraid than angry.

  “Come on,” she said enticingly, “this is Marie. You know her. You can’t honestly believe that she did something wrong? She’s your friend, and she has been for a long time. She trusts you. I’m not asking for a lot, just tell me the headlines. We can get ready for what’s going on. It’s not fair that you guys know everything, and we have to guess.”

  “You guys honestly don’t know what’s going on?” he asked cautiously, looking around and adjusting the brown paper bags in his arms. She nodded vigorously and gave him her best wide-eyed innocent gaze. “Okay, Eddie died last night, and they did a quick analysis. He was poisoned. By the time he came in, it was too late to save him.”

  “Poisoned?” Clary echoed in disbelief.

  “Yeah,” Ben nodded, “that’s why we’re investigating.”

  “What poison?” Clary asked quickly, knowing that he would soon change his mind and regret telling her anything. Clary always thought of secrets like cats. When they wanted to be known, they’d come to you. If you had to go find them, they didn’t want to be found. Ben wasn’t ready to share his secrets, and it was only a matter of time before he stopped.

  “Strychn
ine,” Ben told her hesitantly.

  “That sounds weirdly familiar,” Clary mused.

  “I can’t tell you anymore,” Ben snapped. “I’m sorry, Clary, but I’ve got to go. Don’t tell anyone what I told you.”

  Before she could give him her word, he scurried off. His shoulders were hunched, and he held the brown bags close to him as though he could hide behind them. Clary felt bad for making him spill the beans, but Marie was genuinely disturbed by the interrogation. She also didn’t want to admit that a small part of her felt thrilled that she was finally living a story worth writing.

  “Strychnine?” Marie asked, her accent becoming more pronounced as she stumbled over the difficult word. Clary nodded as she took off her coat and the various sweaters underneath.

  “Can you check up on what that is?” Clary asked as she stamped her feet on the welcome mat. She winced when she saw the amount of snow that came off her boots, but thankfully Marie was too preoccupied to scold her.

  “I don’t need to,” Marie shook her head. “I already know about it.”

  “Great,” Clary chirped, she walked behind the counter and began making a cup of hot chocolate. “What is it?”

  “It’s a poison,” Marie explained.

  “Wow,” Clary interrupted sarcastically. “I never would’ve guessed.”

  “Enough of you,” Marie shook her head. She was sitting on a couch with her feet tucked underneath a fleece blanket. Loki was stretched out in the space next to her, his head turned to one side as he dreamt of chasing something. Probably Clary’s mouse slippers. “It used to be used as a medicine, but then they figured out that it was dangerous. They use it in rat poison now.”

  “That’s weird,” Clary shook her head. “Have you noticed how many poisons they used for medicine back in the day? How are humans still alive? But I suppose this is good news.”

  “How is this good news?” Marie asked incredulously.

  “We don’t have any rat poison around here,” Clary gestured to Loki. “We use the cat.”