Desserts and Deception: A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Page 6

  “Just so you know, this is—”

  “A trial period,” he said, interrupting her, but not rudely. “I know. And I appreciate the chance.”

  Feeling slightly better about things and the reality that she would have help that morning, she put Dexter to work prepping the kitchen as she sat down behind her desk for the first few sips of coffee before the busyness began. She felt slightly guilty for making him work while she eased into the morning, but then again—that was what assistants were for, right? Besides, she was paying him well, even if it was a trial period.

  Checking her email, she clicked on one that was marked from the library. Did she have a book she was late in returning?

  When the email opened, she saw it was addressed to her from Barbara at the library. Margot had almost forgotten about talking with Wilhelmina and how Barbara had been gone on vacation.

  She skimmed through the short email surprised to see that Barbara had cut her trip short due to a sprained ankle and that she would be at the library—on crutches—if Margot wanted to stop by that afternoon.

  Margot wondered if Wilhelmina had told her what her questions regarded, but the scent of something burning drew her attention to the kitchen.

  “What is—” She stopped short to see Dexter bent over an amazing creation of spun sugar.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, standing up after resting the spoon on the counter. “Some of the sugar got onto the element.”

  “What are you making?”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, looking sheepish, “but when you said you were going to be making mini-cheesecakes, I thought about these spun sugar toppers. They are easy to make and it was something I could get out of the way now. I should have asked,” he finished, looking nervous.

  She smiled, impressed not only by his talent but his creativity. “I’m impressed. Though I will say you probably should have consulted me before using my ingredients. What if I wouldn't have enough for what we’re making next?”

  His expression fell. “I should have thought of that.”

  “It’s all right. You did well with these and, thankfully, I’m fully stocked. Let’s get to work, shall we? These desserts aren’t going to bake themselves.”

  The rest of the morning flew by, and with Dexter’s help, Margot was pleased to see that they were done well ahead of her planned schedule. Stepping back as the last of the cookies were pulled from the oven, she surveyed the kitchen. It was a little messier than when she worked by herself, but finishing nearly an hour earlier, and it only being Dexter’s first day, seemed to make her choice to hire him obvious.

  Then again, she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. Better to let him sweat it out just a few more days. Besides, the first day could be a fluke. Though she had a feeling it wasn’t. He was a hard worker and a talented baker.

  The front doorbell rang and Dexter popped his head out, a cheery greeting of hello welcoming guests. He sure was enthusiastic.

  “Who on God’s green earth are you?”

  Margot pressed her lips together to keep her laugh in. Should she go out and rescue Dexter from Rosie’s inquisition? Or let him sweat a little?

  Deciding he’d already been through enough, she stepped into the front space of her shop. “Rosie, why are you giving my new employee a hard time?”

  Rosie’s chocolate brown eyes widened, the white stark against her brown skin. “New employee, did you say?”

  “Yes. This is his first day.” Margot crossed her arms, looking between them.

  “He’s not replacing me, child.” She said it as fact, no question in her statement.

  Margot let her laugh float out at the look on Dexter’s face. “No, Rosie! Of course not! No one could replace you.”

  “That’s right,” she said, placing a hand on her hip. “What’s he doing for you then?”

  “He,” Dexter said, breaking into the conversation, “is going to go clean up the kitchen.”

  He rushed off before Margot could tell him she’d help, but she turned back to Rosie. “Adam recommended him to me.”

  “Detective Eastwood?” Rosie perked up at his name. “Well then, in that case.”

  Margot rolled her eyes. “I could say Adam ran into your car and you’d still get that look on your face.”

  “He’s a fine young man,” Rosie said, her grin widening. “And I do mean fine.”

  “Oh, Rosie,” she said, shaking her head. The two women gave into laughter just as Margot heard the kitchen sink turn on. “I should probably go back and help him. But what are you doing here early?”

  “I came by to ask if I could get in a few extra hours this week. It’s my granddaughter’s birthday next month and I want to get her something special. A few extra hours would really help.”

  Margot smiled warmly back at the older woman. “Of course, Rosie. Anything you need. In fact…” She looked back toward the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll leave Dexter in your watchful charge.”

  Rosie burst into a deep-throated laugh. “You know I’ll teach him right.”

  “I do know that,” Margot said.

  After Margot explained what Dexter needed to do for the rest of his shift, she collected her items and stepped out into the fresh air. The library wasn’t far from the bakery and she decided to take advantage of the perfect weather to walk.

  When she reached the front door, she smoothed her hand over her hair and stepped inside. The quiet interior boasted only a few occupants, which at this time of day, she wasn’t surprised. It was close to lunch and many in the senior community didn’t leave their homes until later in the day.

  She made her way to the front desk and was happy to find Barbara there. The woman reached for her crutches, but Margot held out a hand.

  “Mind if I come to you instead?”

  “Please,” Barbara said, looking relieved.

  They chatted pleasantly at first as Margot asked how Barbara’s trip had gone and how recovery for her ankle was going. When there was a lull, Margot edged closer to her real question. She wanted to play it carefully knowing that, in their little retirement community, the library was quite a hub for gossip and Margot didn’t want to be the one drawing attention to anything unnecessarily. At least not yet.

  “So, Barbara, I was in here talking to Wilhelmina a few days ago.”

  “Oh, I know, she told me you wanted to see me. It’s why I sent you that email last night. Almost forgot to. Had to log on right before I left.”

  “And I appreciate that.” She hesitated. How would she word this? “So, there was a man researching something similar to what I was. At least that’s what Wilhelmina said.”

  “Sure was.” Barbara shivered. “Strange—and downright scary if you ask me—that he was looking into a man who ended up dead. Are you looking into the case? I know you solved that murder mystery at the beginning of summer. You going to do the same now? Seems like you’ve got a head for mystery.”

  Not the subtlety Margot was hoping for. “Not exactly. I’m just curious about this person. Could you describe him?”

  “Well, sure,” she said, her gaze traveling up to some distant spot in the ceiling. “He was white, tall, balding, medium build. Kind of average looking. I think he had light brown hair.”

  Margot groaned. It sounded a lot like George, but she couldn't be sure.” Her hand flew to her pocket, but she realized with a grimace that she’d left her phone back at the bakery on her desk so there was no way to show Barbara a recent picture of George.

  “He wasn’t in here long. Sorry I can’t be of more help to your case.”

  Margot groaned inwardly. “Not my case. The police’s case.” She forced a smile and stood. “Thank you for all you help. Hope your ankle feels better soon.”

  “Thanks, dear. And good luck. I know you can solve it.”

  Margot gave the woman a tightlipped smile and left. She wasn’t solving anything. Merely looking into leads. Leads that seemed to keep coming back to George.

  “I don’t
know, Marg,” Tamera said, picking at her pasta halfheartedly. “I think someone is dragging their feet.”

  Tamera was surprised to learn that George still hadn’t had his bail hearing. “Who’s the judge?”

  “Judge Castor. Something about him being sick and then the courtroom was double-booked. Does that even happen?”

  Margot had no idea and merely shrugged, her bite of garlic bread melting in her mouth. “How are you doing with him being gone?”

  Tamera looked off into the distance. “I don't know. I just keep thinking…”

  “Thinking what?”

  “That maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did.”

  “Tamera…” Margot shook her head and reached across the table to grasp her friend’s hand. “That is nonsense. You know him just fine and we both believe in his innocence. It’s just a difficult time right now. What George needs is for you to be beside him. Remember the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of your vows?”

  “I don’t know if that applies here, Marg,” she said, looking doubtful.

  “Maybe not,” Margot said through a grin, “but I think part of all of that is that it’s in good times and in bad. These are the bad. So stick by him.”

  Tamera’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re right. Oh, Marg, I’m so sorry. This was awful of me. Of course I’m going to stick by him.”

  “Nonsense. You’re being honest with me and I appreciate that. I know it’s not easy. We all have our moments, but I know at the end of the day that you love him and will stick up for him.”

  She nodded and the waiter appeared with their check and to-go boxes. “No Antonio tonight?” Margot asked the young woman.

  “No, his sister just came back from Italy so he’s spending some time with her,” the girl replied with a smile.

  “Glad to hear she made it back.” Margot paid for the meal and they left, getting into Tamera’s car since Margot had left hers at Tamera’s house.

  “Need anything else before we go back to your place?” Margot asked. “You do have food at home, don’t you?”

  “Yes, mother,” Tamera said with a smile as she pulled out onto the road.

  Margot laughed and leaned back. Nighttime had fallen while they’d eaten dinner and now it was dark, dim lights popping up in business, streetlights, and the porch lights of most homes they passed.

  As Margot leaned back, bright headlights reflected in the side mirror and she held up a hand to block their penetrating brightness.

  “Gosh, this guy is right on my tail,” Tamera said, both hands gripping the wheel.

  “Does he have his brights on?”

  “Seems like it, right?” Tamera took the next turn onto Route 6, a road that ran parallel to Highway 1, and followed along the river. The road was narrow and winding, but for a longtime North Bank resident like Tamera, they were as natural as driving through town every day.

  The lights behind them seemed to get brighter. “Wow, he must be in a rush.”

  “Tell me about it,” Tamera said, her jaw clenching with each turn. “I’m pushing five over the speed limit as it is, but he’s still getting really close.”

  Margot turned around in her seat, trying to shield her eyes from the bright light to see if she could catch the make of the car—or perhaps it was a truck?—but it was too bright to tell.

  Then Tamera sucked in a breath as they went around a particularly sharp curve and Margot whipped around to the front again.

  “Margot!” she said as the sound of the vehicle’s revving engine behind them was so close that Margot thought it was vibrating through her seat.

  “Be careful, Tam—” Margot said just as they felt the vehicle hit Tamera’s car from behind.

  Tamera screamed but kept her eyes on the road. Margot reached up to grab the handle above her door to keep from flying forward just as the vehicle behind them struck again.

  “I can’t keep this up much more, Marg. This guy’s going to push me off the road!”

  “It’s okay, Tam. You’ve got this. Just keep it steady.” Margot’s heart was racing but she forced her mind to calm down. They were coming up on one stretch of road with a bridge. Did the person behind them know about it? If he did, then they most certainly needed to make it past the bridge.

  “Speed up.”

  “Are you joking? I’m already going ten miles over the speed limit.”

  “Do it! If he’s at all close to us near Castle Rock Bridge, we could be pushed over the side.”

  It was all the encouragement Tamera needed. She pushed down on the gas, creating distance between them and the man behind them.

  “What about after the bridge?”

  “You’re going to take The Fork.”

  Margot watched Tamera’s face for any sign that she didn’t understand, but all she saw there was determination.

  “I'm going to have to hit the brake, though.”

  “Wait until after we’re past the bridge. If you keep enough distance, we should make it.”

  They waited in tense silence as the bridge came into view. As they had expected, the vehicle sped up, trying to get close to them again.

  “Margot…” Tamera said through clenched teeth.

  “We’re almost there. Just hold on…”

  Both women fell silent as they passed the entrance to the bridge. Halfway through, the vehicle sped up again but Tamera had anticipated the move and was already accelerating off of the bridge.

  Now came the tricky part. She began to slow. The person behind them came up on them quickly but, at the last moment, she yanked the wheel to the side.

  Margot had been prepared for the jolt, or so she’d thought, but the sudden change from paved road to gravel threw both of them forward then back as much as Tamera’s ample pressure on the brake.

  Eventually, they skidded to a stop on the long, graveled road. Both were panting and both had white knuckles.

  “I think he’s gone.”

  Margot turned and saw only darkness behind them.

  “That was smart thinking, using The Fork.”

  Margot took in another breath. She and Tammy often hiked in the hills near the Potomac and they had lovingly name this road The Fork after the first time they’d agreed to meet here and Tamera had called Margot several times to verify its location.

  “I’ll never forget where this road is. Daylight, nighttime, it doesn’t matter.”

  “And that’s what I was counting on. Hopefully, they won’t take the time to turn around and come back.”

  “You think they would?” Tamera’s voice held a tremor.

  “I don’t know, but I’m calling Adam.”

  Chapter 9

  “Margot, are you all right?” Adam rushed up the hillside, his lights shining up to where Tamera’s car had finally come to a stop. Thankfully, the car was no worse for wear, but the women’s nerves were frayed. Another officer, a friend of theirs, stepped into the light and made his way toward Tamera.

  “I have never been so scared, Adam,” Margot admitted. Her arms were wrapped around herself as if she was cold, but it was more to keep from shaking than anything else.

  “I’m so sorry— I…” There was nothing for him to say. And there was no way he could have helped prevent the chase. But the question remained: why them?

  “I…I just don’t understand. Why us?”

  Adam’s jaw tightened. “I’m not sure either. I’ve had some news, but—” He looked around the scene. “If Drake takes Tamera back to her place, can I take you home? So we can talk?”

  “Of course, but let me make sure Tamera’s all right with that first.”

  After explaining the situation to Tamera, she agreed and allowed Officer Drake to slip behind the wheel. Having him drive home would be safer than either of them driving the car. Then Adam got behind the wheel and headed off toward Margot’s home.

  She clasped her hands in her lap, knowing that they would shake and give away how she was truly feeling if she let them rest on her legs. Si
nce they were close to the house, Adam didn’t say anything and she instinctively knew that he would wait until they reached the safety and comfort of her home. It was a fact she was thankful for.

  At her townhome, he saw her inside and seated on the couch, while he went to make a mug of peppermint tea. Only when they were seated on the couch, facing one another, and Margot had her mug of tea did he start the conversation she knew they had to have.

  “What happened?”

  She’d appreciated his earlier care for her, but now she felt overwhelmed by the details that she needed to convey to him. She started at the beginning, where she and Tamera had been and where they’d been planning to go—back to Tamera’s place to decompress with a funny movie.

  Then she described how the vehicle, now she was thinking it was an SUV, had come up quickly on them as if knowing the right time to approach.

  “But wait,” he said, interrupting her, “you said a few miles past when you turned onto Route 6 that the guy got close to you.”

  “Yes,” she said, uncertain of why he sounded confused.

  “But you also said that he knew the right time to sneak up on you.”

  “Yes, I could clearly tell that he was waiting for Castle Rock Bridge.”

  “Right.” The lines on Adam’s forehead deepened.

  “What? I don't understand your confusion.”

  “I don’t know if this guy—assuming it's a guy—knew about Castle Rock Bridge or not, but I do know that he had ample opportunities to run you off the road before that. I also know that he could have circled back to follow you up The Fork if he’d wanted to, but he didn’t.”

  She reasoned through what Adam had said and then nodded in agreement. “I suppose I could be too close to the situation. I assumed he knew about the bridge, but maybe he didn’t. Where does that leave us?”

  “It leaves us with someone who may not be from the area.”

  Margot leaned back, her mug of tea reaching a drinkable temperature. She took a sip, contemplating what Adam was saying.

  “What do you know that I don't?”

  His head jerked up and he met her gaze. “How do you do that?”