Desserts and Deception: A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Read online

  “What?”

  “Know when I have information that you don’t have.” A corner of his mouth tipped up.

  “Well…?” She waited, knowing he would tell her.

  “I’ve been going over George’s bank records.”

  Margot was suddenly suspicious. “What did you find?”

  “I’m not sure, and it’s not conclusive, but I have reason to believe that George was being blackmailed.”

  Margot felt her eyebrows rise. “By who?”

  “No way to know.”

  “So…we’re talking about cash then.”

  He nodded, obviously impressed.

  “And I would assume similar, large withdrawals at a specific time interval.”

  “Yes and no. Over the past number of years, significant withdrawals of cash have been made, like you’re saying, but they aren’t at regular intervals, which is why it took our tech a while to pinpoint. They seem random.”

  “So maybe as needed?”

  “It appears that way.”

  Margot put together what she knew of George and what she’d learned so far. He was a well-off lawyer in D.C. so he wouldn’t be hurting for money. Tamera’s business was not only successful in town and to upper class D.C. residents who liked to ‘get out of the city,’ but also online where she sold supplies on Etsy.

  If she had to guess, she assumed they hadn’t yet incorporated their finances since they’d only been married a few months. George could have easily hidden blackmail payments he was making if they weren’t large enough to wipe him out.

  “But, what’s more—and possibly what’s worse,” Adam said, drawing her attention back from her thoughts, “is the fact that he made the largest withdrawal he’s made right after he got back to North Bank from Hawaii.”

  “Oh, Adam…” Margot’s mind raced back to the night when she’d spoken with Tammy. His eyes snapped to hers.

  “What?”

  “I'm so sorry, I meant to tell you this but forgot. Tammy says that she called his work and he didn’t need to come back from his honeymoon for a work event.”

  “I already know.” He looked pained. “And that’s not even the worst of it. He deposited the same amount of money the night we found Mark.”

  Margot’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “It’s not looking good for your friend.”

  “But it doesn’t add up.”

  “Murder usually doesn’t.”

  “No.” Margot set her tea down because she felt the need to talk with her hands. “I mean think of it this way—George is paying someone for all these years and then what? Suddenly decides to kill a star witness who seems to have no connection to George aside from George’s company’s involvement in his case? It makes no sense.”

  “Or George takes a payment to kill off the witness to replace the money he owes his blackmailer. A trade.”

  Stumped, Margot slumped back against the couch. It still didn’t add up for her.

  “It’s late, and I should go, but I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I don’t know who was after you ladies tonight, but I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He rested a warm hand on her shoulder. “And I want you to be careful. Promise me you will.”

  “Of course. I’m always careful.”

  “Careful to get into trouble.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But seriously, Margie, I told you these things in confidence, not so that you’ll do something foolish like take this case on by yourself.”

  She made a mental note of the fact that he hadn’t forbidden her from the case, just taking it on by herself. Likely he’d just misspoken, but she’d hold him to it.

  “I understand.”

  They stood and she walked him to the door. When he paused to look at her, she saw compassion in his eyes. His hand on her shoulder was warm as he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. It was a sweet, caring thing and it helped ease the tension in her body from that night’s frightening ride.

  “Good night, Adam. And thank you for coming to my rescue…again.”

  He grinned. “Always.”

  Margot grimaced as her alarm shattered the silence of her room. It was still dark out, it always was when she got up for work, but after the car chase the night before, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep as easily as she’d wanted. Tossing and turning most of the night, she felt like the car had hit her and Tamera instead of almost forcing them off the road.

  Still, she showered, dressed, and made it to the bakery on time as usual. Dexter was there waiting for her and they got right to work. She questioned him on how things had gone after she left the day before and he gave her a rundown of what he’d done.

  She was impressed at his skill not only in baking but also in the business side of things. He’d drafted a few proposals for her to look at regarding her website, current marketing she did, and improvements for special events she could host.

  “Are you trying to take over my bakery?” she asked.

  His hands stilled, one holding a wooden spoon and the other a metal bowl. “N-no,” he said, eyes wide.

  She broke in to a grin. “Don’t worry, Dex,” she said, using the nickname Adam used for him, “I’m just joking with you.”

  He let out a huge sigh. “You got me.”

  “But, in all seriousness, I really appreciate your proactive approach to working here. You’re a good baker, but you also have great business sense.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now let me ask you this,” she said, leveling her gaze at him so he’d know she was serious. “Why are you really here?”

  Was it her imagination or had he paled at her question?

  “Uh, what do you mean?”

  “I’ve checked into your credentials. Not only are you certified, but you’ve also got a bachelor’s degree in business and you’re just shy a few credits of having your master’s in business management. I’ve called a few of your past references and they’ve loved working with you. Some even expressed regret over you leaving, as if they’d lost a vital part of their business.” She placed her hands on the cool, stainless steel countertop and leaned forward. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re here, but I don't want to start relying on you only to have you split a few months later. I think knowing why you’re really here will help me decide whether or not I’ll keep you on.”

  He blinked a few times in the silence that fell between them but then he slowly began nodding. He wiped his flour-caked hands on his apron and crossed his arms. His demeanor was in no way closed, just thoughtful.

  “You’re a smart woman, Mrs. Durand. Though Adam already warned me of that.”

  “He did, did he?”

  “Yep.” He grinned but then continued, “I understand why you want answers. I want a few myself, but I’ll give you what I can. Though there are a few things I can’t tell you…yet.”

  His response intrigued her, but she resisted pressing him for more information than he was willing to give—for the moment. As long as it didn’t affect him working here, she didn't exactly need to know.

  “I guess you could say that I see North Bank as a way to start fresh. I’m twenty-five and don’t really know where my life is heading. To me, that seems like a waste.” He grinned. “During a call with Adam, he talked a bunch about this place and…yeah, he happened to mention that you had a ‘world class’ bakery—as he put it—” Another grin. “—and he recommended me coming down here. I took him up on it.”

  Margot took in the young man’s story with a nod. “Thanks for being frank with me. Do you want to own your own bakery someday?” She saw the question took him by surprise.

  “I do.” He sounded wary, like she’d just read his mind.

  “I talk to Adam too.”

  “That dog.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s good. I would have expected you to check me out beforehand and I’m glad that Adam vouched for me.”

  “This is all helpful for me to know.” She nodded once, then surveyed the kitchen. “Ok
ay. Back to work.”

  “Mrs. Durand?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

  “Sure thing, Dex. And one more thing?”

  “Anything,” he said, his face registering honesty.

  “Call me Margot.”

  They worked hard through the morning and she showed him more of how her business was run. By the early afternoon when Rosie came in, they were ahead of schedule and she started to see the potential for having an assistant. Not so much that she could take time off, but more so that she could do the things she’d been putting off. Planning out further than just the next few months. Have more interaction with her customers. It all gave her a rosy glow to the day, until she got the text from Tamera.

  There’s been another murder.

  Chapter 10

  Margot walked the few blocks to Grant Park where the body had been found. Despite the fact that the scene was closed off, she risked coming to the front of the onlookers where the bright yellow tape stretched across the entrance.

  “Stay back, please,” an officer said. He was younger, newer to the area, but if she remembered correctly, his last name was Smith.

  She’d just made it to the front when she spotted Adam. He saw her and shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.

  “Smith,” he said, coming forward. The young deputy looked up to him.

  “Sir?”

  “Let that one through,” he said, pointing to Margot.

  “Yes, sir. This way, ma’am,” he said, helping her under the yellow tape.

  A few reporters tossed out questions for Adam but he ignored them, directing Margot to the shade of a large oak tree but not near where she assumed the body was.

  “Why are you here, Margot? No, scratch that question. How did you find out about this?”

  She grinned, knowing that he wasn’t really angry at her for being there.

  “Tamera was on a run this morning and saw the police cars. Heard from someone about what had happened. She messaged me. She wants to know if they are connected and, if so, if George will be released.”

  “And you just had to come by and see.”

  Margot shrugged, trying to look innocent. “I knew it couldn’t hurt.”

  “Um huh.” He shook his head, hands sliding to his hips as he looked back to where the body lay covered by a sheet. “I’m going to hazard a guess that this is not associated with the body found in Tamera’s shop.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Adam roughed a hand over his jaw, the stubble there evidence that he had been called to the scene early that morning.

  “The MO is way different and…” He trailed off and looked down at her. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

  She offered him a shy smile. “If it’s any consolation, I promise not to mention anything you’ve said—or will say—to anyone else.”

  He narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment, then nodded as if in agreement with her.

  “This scene was…messy. This was no murder by poisoning. And, while that’s not conclusive evidence, it just looks different. In fact, it looks familiar.”

  “How so?”

  “Remember how I told you I was working with my brother up in D.C. on a few cases?”

  “Yes, I remember you had mentioned that at the beginning of summer.”

  “We actually worked a few that involved Victor Carow.”

  “Wait, the man who Mark Jennings was going to testify against?”

  “You mean the drug lord? And yes, the very same man. Well, I should say his group. They have a certain way of…disposing of someone who has crossed them. It’s part of the reason why I don't think Mark was killed by Carow’s associates, but that remains to be seen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This murder—it’s got Carow’s name all over it. Whoever he gets to do his bidding has a certain style. I won’t say more, but the timing is odd. First Jennings is killed here and now this man? I don’t like how all of this is coming together. We’re in North Bank, for goodness sake. It’s supposed to be Small Town America here.”

  Margot shivered despite the warmth of the sun and wrapped her arms around herself. “What do you think is really going on here?”

  “I don’t know,” Adam said, his frown deepening. “But I’ve got to get back to the scene. Remember. Not a word.”

  She nodded in agreement and he saw her back under the yellow tape. As Margot walked away from the scene of the crime, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in North Bank just like Adam had pointed out. This wasn’t some hot bed of crime. It was a retirement community with a large senior population. Sure, they were close to the city, but why here?

  The questions only managed to mount up in her mind, growing larger and larger until she couldn’t think straight. The one thing she did know was that her friend needed her and she was going to be there for her.

  After making a drive by of Tamera’s house, Margot circled the large residential block and came back around to park far down the street. As she did, she noticed a dark-colored SUV she’d briefly seen on her first drive by. The outline of the driver was evident even from a distance. He looked to be a large man but she couldn't see more than that because of the tint of the windows.

  The thing that was odd to her was that he had the windows rolled up and, in the ten minutes it had taken her to circle the block—due to a red light and a few pedestrian crossings—the person was still there.

  At any other time, she may not have noticed the vehicle or the man in it, but her senses were on high alert. Not to mention the fact that the SUV looked like it could have been the one that ran them off the road the night before.

  Her mouth instantly went dry at the memory of the headlights glaring and the speed at which they’d been driving over the massively high bridge only feet from flying over the side. If she could get close enough, would she see paint on the man’s bumper?

  Margot slid her hand into her purse and pulled out the mini-Taser she now carried almost everywhere with her. With her Krav Maga skills and this handy contraption, she felt secure. Armed with it in one hand and her phone in the other, she decided to approach the SUV. Chances were it was someone waiting to pick someone up and her fear was for nothing. She’d rather make a fool of herself. All she had to do was get close enough to get a good look at the license plate and maybe the face of the person in the vehicle.

  She slipped down the tree-lined street, hiding behind bushes as they were available. Since she’d parked so far away, she had considerable ground to make up. But soon Tamera’s house came into view as did the SUV parked only a few cars from Tamera’s front door. Unfortunately, the person in the SUV had all but backed up into the car behind them, which made it impossible for Margot to see the back license plate.

  She paused, covered by a large hydrangea bush, and peered through the leaves. She saw movement in the car and what looked like a flash of glass. Binoculars? Was he spying on Tamera? The feeling of foreboding increased. From the SUV’s vantage point, they would be able to see all of the front windows of Tamera’s house.

  Making up her mind, Margot slipped from behind the tree and tried to duck-walk toward the car. She was almost to the car parked right behind when the sound of barking shattered the stillness of the neighborhood.

  A light tan blur launched itself at Margot who, in her surprise, let out a cry as Mr. Puggles attacked her face with licks.

  Lights blinked on at the same time the engine of the SUV roared to life. The next second, the sound of crunching plastic and metal accompanied the SUV’s hasty exit from the tight parking spot. The driver had backed into the car and then rammed the bumper of the car in front of him in his hurry to escape.

  The sound of screeching tires was the last thing Margot saw. She ground her teeth, angry at herself for not getting his license plate number, but she’d been so shocked at his hasty retreat from the parking space and the shock of having a dog in her arms tha
t she hadn’t been able to memorize it or even capture a picture of the plate. Some detective she was turning out to be.

  “Margot, what is going on?” Tamera was running from the house to her, eyes wide in surprise.

  Margot pulled herself off the ground and brushed off stray bits of grass. “What’s going on is I think I just saw the person who tried to run us off the road yesterday. And I let him get away.”

  “What?”

  Margot explained how she’d seen the man and how she assumed he had been spying on Tamera, to which her friend shivered and looked over her shoulder as if he could be right behind her.

  “I don’t like this one bit. Another murder and now this? Who is that man?”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Not really. He was wearing dark sunglasses and had dark hair—I think. He drove off so fast and there was a glare in the window.”

  Margot stared in the direction he’d driven in. “Well, at least we can give a statement about the car. Want to go down to the police station with me?”

  “Why don’t you call Adam?” Tamera stopped and picked up Mr. Puggles, who squirmed to be let free again.

  “I have a feeling he’ll be busy at the crime scene for a while. Then you can stop by to see George. He’s still not released?”

  Margot saw the stormy look gather in Tamer’s eyes. “No. And I’ve just about had it.”

  “Come on. Let’s put Mr. Puggles back inside and head to the station.” She surveyed the street one more time then said, more to herself than her friend who was already nearing her home, “I have a feeling there are more than a few puzzles going on here.”

  Chapter 11

  After Margot and Tamera gave a revised statement about the vehicle from the previous night to a deputy on duty, they walked across the street to the jail where George was being held. It was adjacent to the courthouse and, while not high security, still had a sterile, cold feel about it. They were shown into a room with a metal table and three chairs, only a small window high on the wall and encased in bars and shatterproof glass giving off dim light.