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Croissants and Corruption: A Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Page 8


  “I will,” was all she could manage.

  He held her gaze longer than necessary then stepped back. “You’re free to go, Mrs. Durand.”

  Margot got home in time to find Taylor raiding the kitchen for a snack. Her eyes grew wide when she took in her disheveled, wet appearance and borrowed muck boots.

  “Take a swim, Aunt Margot?”

  “Not exactly.” She relayed what had happened, again leaving out the reason for her walk, as Taylor’s eyes grew to the size of Danishes.

  “No way! They went after you? But…but doesn’t that like, clear me or something?”

  Margot gave her niece a rueful smile. “There’s no connection to the case and me being shoved over a wall. What makes you think there is?”

  She could tell her question threw her niece for a loop. “I—uh, oh, I don't know. You were…by the bridge, right? The one they found the body below. Made sense that it was about the murder then.”

  Taylor had recovered, but barely.

  “Mind if I watch some TV?”

  Margot shook her head. “No. Go ahead. I’m going to work on a new recipe in the kitchen.”

  “Cool.” Taylor grabbed the bowl of popcorn and a diet soda and went to the living room. The sounds of a television sitcom soon floated into the kitchen as Margot leaned up against the counter. After a day in jail and being out on bail, Taylor seemed awfully relaxed about everything. Was her cavalier nature due to the fact that she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, or was it something more…dangerous? A mental disability perhaps?

  Margot rubbed her temples. She was jumping to conclusions—ones that involved the thought of her niece being guilty—and that wasn’t acceptable. She knew the girl. Not well, but she did know her enough to be assured of the fact that she wasn’t a psychopathic killer.

  She turned her attention to the stack of papers on the counter that contained her notes for a few new recipes she wanted to introduce into the bakery. She moved some aside and noticed that Taylor had left her phone on the counter. She went to pick it up but hesitated. This wasn't the same phone she’d been using before she was arrested…or was it?

  Margot turned it over in her hands and frowned. Taylor’s other phone had been black but this one was dark blue. With a glance to the entrance of the kitchen, she pressed the home button and the phone flashed to light. One swipe opened the phone and she could see that it looked like any young person’s phone. Full of apps and a background photo of the beach.

  Another glance to make sure she was alone and Margot pressed the application button for the text messages. She remembered Adam’s conversation about not having a connection between Taylor and Marco. Margot had believed it was because there wasn’t one, but what if they just couldn’t find a trail due to not having all the right information—or the right phone.

  Margot was sure they had traced this phone number and all of Taylor’s contacts, but she needed to see for herself.

  She typed in Marco into the messages search bar. Nothing came up.

  Then she typed in Lorenzo.

  Holding her breath, she pressed enter and waited.

  Nothing.

  Releasing her breath, she closed the app and put the phone back on the counter. Then, thinking better of it, she walked toward the living room only to stop in the doorway. Taylor was asleep, bowl of popcorn forgotten by her side and the TV blaring.

  Margot knew the instant the idea came into her mind that she was going to regret this one way or the other. Either it would work to help prove Taylor’s innocence or it could bring up evidence of a connection between Taylor and the crime. Either way, when she slipped noiselessly down the hall to Taylor’s room, her motive was justice, not snooping. At least that was what she told herself.

  She placed the blue phone on the small bookshelf and turned toward the bed. First she checked under the pillows, then in the drawer, then under the mattress until her hand slid onto something cold, solid, and the shape of a phone.

  Heart pounding, Margot looked at the door then pulled the phone out. It slid easily into the palm of her hand and looked identical to the blue phone, differing only in color. No wonder she’d thought it was the same phone.

  But why did Taylor have two phones?

  Stepping to the door, Margot stuck her head outside and then rushed across the hall to her room. She’d rather be caught in there than in Taylor’s room, as long as she had time enough to replace the phone under the mattress.

  Then, sitting in her bathroom with the door locked, she pressed the power button. The phone came on. The lock screen picture was of Dillon and Renee. Margot’s smile was immediate at seeing the happy, in-love look on her sister’s face. How sweet of Taylor to have that on her phone. Scratch that—her second phone.

  She swiped right to unlock it, breathing out a sigh of relief when it didn’t require a password. This phone was much different than Taylor’s other one. It had almost no apps except for one about the stock exchange, a news outlet app, and then a twitter account. The thing that threw Margot off was the lock screen picture. It was of an oilrig in the middle of the ocean. Was this for Taylor to remember her father?

  She found the messages icon and tapped it. Many came up, but the names drew Margo’s suspicion. Especially the one named, Honey Bear.

  Tapping on it, she could tell right away that Taylor hadn’t written these messages. There was no abbreviated text like Taylor used, and…something caught her attention. The phrase “like a kite caught in a rainstorm” made her catch her breath. That was something Margot had only heard Renee say.

  Then the pieces began to slip into place. This was Dillon’s phone. She remembered Renee explaining that, when he was on the oilrig, phone service was non-existent most of the time so he often relied on his computer and Wi-Fi to communicate with her. The only explanation was that he’d left his phone at home and Taylor had been using it to text… Who? Who would she text?

  Margot scrolled through the contacts but nothing stood out. Then, as she was about to go back to the messages to see what she could find, a text popped up. It only registered a phone number with a local area code for North Bank. Interesting. She memorized the number then pulled down the notifications tab at the top, reading the short message:

  Meet me tonight? <3

  Margot’s pulse raced. She wouldn’t risk tipping Taylor off to the fact she’d found the phone by opening—or deleting—the message. As badly as she wanted to, she knew what she had to do.

  Chapter 12

  The night was quiet though windy as Margot pulled on a black sweatshirt while keeping an ear out for any sound that Taylor was still awake. Or worse yet…sneaking out. Margot hated the thought that she’d have to sneak out to follow her niece, but she’d thought of all of the alternatives and this was the best option.

  Adam would have a fit if he knew her plans, but in all reality, a teen—even one over the legal age—entrusted to her care was her responsibility. If there had been any indication it had something to do with the case, she would have told him, but it didn’t. The heart at the end of the message ensured that.

  Just then the faint squeak of a window hinge drew her attention to her own open window. They were almost on opposite sides of the house, but she could still hear the window scraping open and the residual crunch of leaves on the trellis that led up to the window.

  Pulse racing, Margot slipped from her room, careful to close her door again, and ran to the door. Slipping outside, she hid in the shadows, thankful for her full black wardrobe, and waited to see where Taylor would go once she was clear of the house.

  The girl landed with a light thump and paused, taking in the surrounding area. She looked back up at her window then turned toward the steps that led to the street. Margot followed at a careful distance, watching where she stepped and staying in the shadows where possible.

  North Bank wasn’t a large town, nor had it ever been scary—even at night. It was filled with small town charm and nice people. This close to Washington
, D.C., it was a little bit of an anomaly, but she liked that fact. She could get into the city and see the museums when she wanted without the hectic nature of the city or the exorbitant price tag that row houses came with. North Bank suited her just fine.

  On a night like tonight though, she wasn’t so sure it felt as safe as she’d initially thought. Around every corner lurked the possibility of a murderer. Every car driving past could contain a threat. Even a cat running across her path made her cover her mouth so a scream wouldn’t escape.

  She felt foolish, but her nerves were on edge following her niece to who knew where to meet some person—presumably a young man—with who knew what intent.

  Taylor turned up a street Margot recognized. Were they going to the senior center? Frowning, she followed but kept her distance. When her niece got to the center, she checked her phone—presumably the black one that was actually her father’s—and slipped around the side of the building. The back side met the sloping hill of a cliff and Margot elected to take the upper ground where bushes would cover her presence. Though that meant she needed to be even more careful to not make noise that would attract Taylor’s attention.

  Her focus was so intent that, by the time she got close enough to Taylor, another person had arrived.

  Lorenzo!

  Margot pressed her lips together to keep in her gasp of surprise, but then again, was it really that surprising? She had known Lorenzo was mixed up in this some how, but how in the world had he gotten involved with Taylor, let alone gotten her phone number? Margot had been with her ever since she arrived—well, almost.

  “What’s going on?” Taylor said, stepping closer to the boy than Margot approved of.

  “You texted me. Said you wanted to meet.” His voice was low, the hint of an accent still lingering there. If Margot remembered correctly, he had come over from Italy with his mother, who was back there now for the summer.

  “Um, no,” Taylor said, her hands now clasping his, “You texted me, you dork.” She giggled and went up on tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.

  Margot felt her blood boil. This girl was never leaving the house again.

  “No,” he said, pulling back. In the dim light from the streetlight in the parking lot, Margot could see the frown on his face. “You texted me.”

  “No—” Taylor was frowning now, looking confused.

  “Whatever…” He shrugged, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “I guess whoever texted who, this was a good idea.”

  Margot rolled her eyes. She was about to bust this little meeting up, when something in their conversation drew out her suspicion. Neither one of them admitted to having texted the other. Why would either of them lie? And, from what she’d seen on Taylor’s second phone, she hadn’t texted him. Why would Lorenzo lie about texting her? He obviously was happy to see her. It made no sense.

  A chill raced up her spine. Something wasn’t right about this meeting.

  Her gaze shot back to the couple then to the surrounding area shadowed in darkness. The back wall of the center was blank, no windows or doors, then she looked the way they’d come in. Nothing but the faint light filtering in from the parking lot’s street light. Then, with a shallow breath, she looked to the other side of the building. It was much darker there, covered by a tall oak tree and mostly hidden from light by the bulk of the building.

  Movement caught her eye. There was definitely something—or someone—there. Heart hammering in her chest, Margot sneaked around the bush, closer to the couple but also to get a better view. It was so dark she couldn't be certain, but it looked like an arm holding a gun had snaked around the corner.

  Now her palms were sweating and she was positive she was hyperventilating. The couple was too distracted to notice, but Margot was positive they were the killer’s targets.

  Margot felt the press of an invisible hand on her back pushing her forward to do something. She had to time it just right, but she would have no indication when the killer would strike. Then again, if she didn’t act soon, it could be too late.

  In a rush of adrenaline, Margot jumped forward, off the higher ground and toward the couple, yelling, “Get down!”

  The minute she connected with both Lorenzo and Taylor, sending them toppling down, a gunshot rang out through the night.

  “What—” Lorenzo cried out.

  “Ahhh,” Taylor screamed.

  Shaking, Margot grabbed Taylor. “It’s me, Tay. It’s Margot.”

  Her niece stopped fighting but Lorenzo jumped up, looking down at Taylor and then, before any of them could say anything, he ran off and disappeared into the night.

  Margot placed a hot cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her niece and then handed the other to Adam.

  “Thanks.” He looked between the women, his frustration evident. “My officers didn’t find the shooter—only one bullet casing and an unfortunate tree that seemed to be the recipient of the kill shot.”

  Taylor flinched at the word kill.

  “Adam—”

  “I should have taken you both back to the station for questioning,” he cut in, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly, “but the chief said you’d been through enough for one night.”

  Margot turned her gaze to her niece. Tears streaked her face and a light bruise marred her pretty features, but thankfully, that was the worst of it.

  “It could have been much worse,” Margot said.

  Adam nodded and turned to look at the girl as well.

  “I’m sorry,” Taylor whispered, staring down into the cup.

  “Taylor,” Margot cut in, cradling her own cup of tea to eat away the coldness that seemed to sink to her core. “You've got to tell us what’s going on. No more of this bottling things up and keeping secrets. You were almost killed tonight.” The words sent more icy shivers down her spine.

  Another tear streaked down Taylor’s cheek and she sniffed, wiping it away with the back of her hand.

  “I care about you. I just… I guess I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should just have your mom come out and—”

  “No.” Taylor looked up, first at Margot then to Adam. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  Margot met her gaze.

  “Please—just don’t call Renee. Not yet.”

  Margot felt somehow dishonest for threatening to call Taylor’s mother, but the suggestion had gotten her the results she’d hoped for.

  “Level with me, Taylor.” Adam’s tone left no room for argument and she saw the girl deflate a little. “How do you know Lorenzo?”

  “Okay.” She wiped her eyes again, then steeled herself with a deep breath, “When Dad told me that I was coming out to North Bank for the summer, I wasn't happy. I mean, you can guess why, right?”

  “Yes,” Margot agreed.

  “Getting up at three in the morning every day is such a bummer. Anyway, I wasn’t really into it all, but I thought, you know, that I could make the best of it. So…I kind of borrowed my dad’s phone and got on a dating app. I put in the North Bank area and ended up meeting someone on the app.”

  “Lorenzo,” Margot guessed, feeling Adam’s gaze on her.

  “Yeah. And, Aunt Margot, no matter what you think, you’re wrong. He’s a nice guy. We hit it off and started chatting via text. It actually made me excited to come out here, you know?”

  Margot bit her cheek to keep from saying anything. They needed to hear the whole truth before she gave her two cents.

  “Go on,” Margot said.

  “I honestly don’t know what happened, though. When we went to that Italian restaurant that first night, the waiter—Marco—slipped me a note. He said he knew Lorenzo and wanted to meet with me about him. I thought… I don't know, I thought he knew where I could meet up with Lorenzo because I hadn’t heard back from him since I’d landed. So I went to talk with him…”

  Margot leaned forward, her stomach clenching. “Why did he attack you?”

  “That’s just it. When I went back there, he
was all flirty. I mean, yeah, he’s handsome and I flirted a little too, but I didn’t get why he’d do that if he was friends with Lorenzo and knew we were texting. But then he asked me where ‘it’ was. I had no idea what he was talking about. I told him that, but he didn't believe me. He said Lorenzo said I would give it to him.”

  “He didn’t say what it was he was looking for?” Adam interjected.

  “No!” Taylor blew out a stream of air and shook her head. “Sorry, he just made me really mad. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and that's when he grabbed me and shook me as if I’d drop it loose or something.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s when you came in Aunt Margot—thankfully.”

  “Then he came back outside to what? Convince you again?” Adam’s hazel eyes focused intently on the girl.

  “I guess.” Taylor took a sip of her tea.

  Margot considered the facts. Replaying the scene in her mind, she tried to remember the exact situation when she burst into the janitor’s closet. She had assumed they were locked in an amorous embrace, but it could have been like Taylor explained.

  But that didn’t explain how Taylor’s prints had gotten on the knife.

  “Did you use a knife at the restaurant?” Even as she asked the question, she met Adam’s gaze.

  “Margot…” he cautioned.

  “A knife? No, I don’t think—” Taylor frowned, her eyes searching the ceiling to remember. “Wait. I didn’t use one, but I did unroll the silverware from the napkin and I’m sure I touched it—” She stopped, her eyes widening. “I did touch it. Oh my goodness, do you think…” She looked at Adam and Margot felt her gaze trail to him as well.

  He let out a sigh and nodded. “It was confirmed that the knife was from Antonio’s.”

  Taylor’s eyes grew large, but Margot cut her off before she could say anything. “Tay, honey, I know that you didn’t kill that man, but you kept so much from me—from the police. A whole different phone and a connection to North Bank. Why didn’t you say something?”