Sweet as Pie Crimes (17 page)

Chapter 7

My lips tingled as they parted from his.  For the first time I noticed how his brown eyes were soft and warm, like butterscotch.  Lane clasped my hand from across the table and gave it a little squeeze.  The attraction between us was clear, but I knew we had to say good night before I lost my head.

“I had a wonderful evening with you,” I murmured, massaging his hand with subtle pressure.

“Same here, Danica.  It’s getting late, though, so why don’t I drive you home?”

I nodded as he reached for his wallet and left a wad of cash under the sugar bowl.  Outside, the night air bordered on chilly, and Lane slid his arm around me to keep me from getting cold.  The ride back to Aunt Marilyn’s house was quiet, as neither of us wanted to say good night…or talk at all for that matter.  All I wanted was for Lane to kiss me for the rest of the night, but I felt strongly that we would have plenty of time for that in the future.

“When do you want to hatch this plan?” He asked frankly.

“Tomorrow night.  The sooner the better.  I just want to get this over with and move on,” I declared sternly as Lane gazed at me sympathetically.

“Some people can’t get past that green-eyed monster called envy.  I see it all the time.  Whoever has been doing this to you will pay.  Maybe even with some prison time.” Lane seemed to take my situation personally, and I wondered if someone had tried to sabotage his career as well.  After all, being a baseball player thrust him into the spotlight and left him vulnerable
to all kinds of attacks including those cowardly anonymous ones on the internet.

Confirming my suspicion, Lane revealed, “You know, I was accused of using steroids the first year I was with the Padres.  You can even look it up.  There are tons of articles about it online.  But my reputation was cleared after taking every medical test ever known to mankind and printing out the 70% protein diet I follow.”

“So you almost lost your place on the team?”

“That’s right.  The coach wanted to kick me off just because of the scandal it caused, but once I was able to prove myself, he decided to keep me.  I know what it’s like to fight for your career and reputation.  That’s the reason I want to help you, Danica.”

“I thought this was the reason?” I impulsively gave him a kiss.

“Oh yeah, that too,” he quipped wryly.

After a lingering kiss that could have lasted another nine innings, we said good night as I floated up the stairs to the guest room in Aunt Marilyn’s house.  The lights were all out, and I knew she was sleeping as I crept into my room.  Over breakfast, I would tell her how Lane planned to help us in our plot to expose Betty.  But for now, all I wanted to do was slide under the sheets and remember the sweeter-than-cupcakes taste of Lane’s lips.

***

Shouting and doors slamming were the next sounds I heard.  Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I leapt out of bed as pre-dawn light filtered through the sheer white curtains.  Quickly grabbing for my kimono style bathrobe and wrapping it tightly around my body, I lightly stepped to the top of the staircase and listened.  The loud voices had quieted a bit and didn’t sound like the bar room brawl they had just a moment ago.  Had my perspective been off somewhere between sleeping and waking?  But no, an agitated situation was unfolding downstairs, and I could hear Aunt Marilyn raising her voice.

“Is everything okay?” I asked loudly, emerging at the foot of the stairs and coming eye to eye with a grouchy looking man at least a decade older than Aunt Marilyn.

“Now you’ve woken up my niece!” She hissed angrily, stepping in front of me in a guarding manner.

“I’m sorry, Mari, baby.  I didn’t mean to wake anyone up.  I wouldn’t have come by if I had known you have house guests.  Just a little impatient, that’s all…”

“That’s
enough
,” Aunt Marilyn retorted, walking to the door and sweeping it open wide.  “Tonight at midnight.  And not a moment sooner.”

Grimacing and grumbling as he left, the man I presumed to be Marvin, trudged out the door as Aunt Marilyn slammed it behind him.  “Ouch!” He complained from the other side of the door.  “You bruised my ass!”

“Watch your language and stop your histrionics!” Aunt Marilyn commanded, dead bolting the lock and storming into the living room.

She walked over to the wine cabinet and poured herself a glass of Cabernet.  “I know.  Don’t say it.  It’s too early in the morning.  But my nerves are shot.  That man makes me want to heave.”

“It’s okay, but what was he doing here? Is he stalking you now?” I asked, worried. 

“No, no.  He just said he couldn’t wait to see me and wanted to start our rendezvous with the sunrise.  Ugh.  Such a lecherous man.” Swirling her finger around one of her springy curls, she sipped the red wine.

“I can’t go back to sleep now.  I think I’ll just shower and head over to the shop to set up for today,” I announced, heading upstairs.

“Good idea.  I’ll shower down here.  I need to wash the nastiness of that man off of me! He had the audacity to grope me the minute he walked in the door.” She shook inside her silk bathrobe as though she were trying to physically rid herself of the unpleasant memory.

“What a pig!” I called from upstairs.

Late that night a trio of amateur sleuths would be camped out at Betty’s real estate office trying to extract vital clues about her possible involvement in the ingredient swapping.  I only hoped it would be the end of my problems and not the beginning of even bigger new ones.  As scalding water from the shower head burned my flesh, I feared the latter.

***

Closing time couldn’t come quickly enough that evening.  The anticipation of hacking into Betty’s computer---and of seeing Lane again---was making me quiver from head to toe like an autumn leaf.  Even the usually tranquil Aunt Marilyn seemed to be on edge.  She had botched more than a few orders during the course of the day and wore a spacey expression on her face even when interacting with customers.

“Finally 7 o’clock!” I sighed in enormous relief.

“We should grab some dinner before heading over to the office,” Aunt Marilyn suggested, opening the register to count the day end cash.

“No, I’m too nervous to eat,” I protested.  “I just want to hang out here until Lane comes by.”

Aunt Marilyn, who had been thrilled when I informed her of Lane’s computer expertise, smiled her approval.  “Good idea.  Let’s hope he gets here by 10.  I want to be out of there way before midnight so that there’s no chance of crossing paths with Marvin.” She involuntarily shivered as she uttered his name.

The next few hours inched by until a pair of headlights shone through the storefront window.  “Lane’s here,” I breathed with a mixture of excitement and relief.  Excited to be in the same room with him again and relieved that he was really following through and helping me.  Since my father died, I had a hard time believing anyone could be relied on for help and always tried to do things on my own.

Formally meeting for the first time, Aunt Marilyn and Lane shook hands as he stepped inside the shop.  After the formalities, we huddled together and tried to map out the logistics of our rogue investigation. Lane eagerly took the lead, urging that we spend as little time in the office as possible.

“It won’t take me more than a few minutes to hack into her desktop.  Then I’ll slip this into her zip drive.” He held up a shiny red USB.  “And I’ll copy all the information from her computer so that we can comb through it later on and get out of that office before someone finds us there.”

“Like Marvin,” Aunt Marilyn interjected bitterly, shivering again.

“Exactly,” Lane replied calmly, making me happy that I had spilled every detail of the story to him.  “So are we ready to go?”

“Yes, let’s do this,” I answered definitively, grabbing my jacket and purse.

The three of us stepped outside, all simultaneously flinching as drizzle pattered down over our heads.  “Is it
raining
?!” I croaked in disbelief.  “I thought it never rains in San Diego!”

“Almost never,” Lane corrected.  “But we won’t let a little rain get us down.  Come on.”

Some cultures believe that rain is good luck and a symbol of ripe fertility.  But to me, the fact that it was raining in gloriously sunny southern California was an omen of difficulties to come.  I kept my worries to myself sitting beside Aunt Marilyn in the passenger seat of her car as Lane politely retreated to the back. 

We reached the office in five minutes as the windshield wipers swayed back and forth, making me dizzy with fear.  The normally pristine sky was dark
and cloudy and the temperature must have dipped into the fifties.  Stabilizing myself on solid ground, I looked at the empty office building, feeling the compulsion to turn back and forget this ludicrous plan.  But as Aunt Marilyn retrieved the gold key from her pocket and the moonlight radiated off of it, I knew there was no turning back. 

“Don’t worry, Danica,” Lane whispered, sensing my unease and placing a supportive hand on my lower back.  I allowed myself to melt into his touch for just an instant.  Then, I walked faster until I was hovering over Aunt Marilyn as she unlocked the side door.

“Oh damn it! My fingers are trembling.” She bent over to pick up the key as it hit the wet concrete.

“Easy now,” Lane soothed, and I thought how lucky Mackenzie was to have him as a father.  I could picture the little girl fearing monsters in the night and being cajoled back to bed by her sweet, even-tempered father.

The second time was the charm as Aunt Marilyn opened the door and hurried inside.  “We need to find a light,” she whispered as my arm slammed against the wall.

“Yes we do,” I agreed, ignoring the pain.

“Here we go,” Lane said as the office filled with artificial light.  “I’ve got night vision like a jungle cat.”

I giggled softly at his joke as Aunt Marilyn rushed through the rows of cubicles looking for Betty’s desk.  In her haste, she carelessly knocked over a rolodex.  “Who even has these anymore?!” She demanded rhetorically.

“Oh wow, I’ve never actually seen one of those in person,” Lane marveled. 

I also had never seen the old fashioned flip-and-find address cards.  “Must be the desk of an older person…like Betty.  Is it hers?” I asked.

“Let me see…no the name plate says Lorraine Fallow,” Aunt Marilyn informed as my blood ran cold.  Where had I heard that name before? 

“Lorraine Fallow?” I echoed.  “I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

“Here’s Betty’s desk!” Aunt Marilyn said triumphantly, pressing the power button of her desktop computer on.

As I pondered the name Lorraine Fallow, Lane zipped over to the desk and took a seat.  He tapped his fingers impatiently as the computer warmed up, showing signs of nervousness for the first time all night.  My memory felt cloudy, but I knew the name Lorraine Fallow was significant for some reason.

“This computer is a dinosaur too,” Lane muttered.  “Was anyone in this office born after the invention of the wheel?”

“Hey, it’s got nothing to do with age,” Aunt Marilyn scolded pointedly.  “If these people aren’t up on technology, it’s because they’re all morons like Betty and Marvin!”

Lane chuckled appreciatively.  “Okay, you just put me in my place.”

I tuned out their chatter, raking every corner of my mind for the name Lorraine Fallow.  Had one of my customers at the ribbon cutting ceremony introduced herself with that name?  Or was it the name of one of my vendors for the shop?

“The mayor’s secretary!” I burst out with a shrill scream.

Chapter 8

Lane, who had already deftly swiped the files from Betty’s computer, slipped the USB back in his pocket and rushed to my side.  “Are you okay? What was that outburst all about?”

Composing myself, I explained, “The woman who called me to say that the mayor had an emergency and couldn’t make the ceremony was named Lorraine Fallow.  I’m sure of it!  But why would the mayor’s secretary work in a real estate office?”

“Maybe she’s not really his secretary,” Lane offered.

“But that doesn’t make sense.” I threw my hands up in the air.  “None of this makes sense.”

“And it
really
doesn’t make sense to linger around here when we already have the info we need.  Let’s GO!” Aunt Marilyn was already holding the door open for us to leave.

As my mind buzzed with new possibilities and sheer enigmas, I filed out the door with Lane close behind me.  The rain had subsided with a few stray droplets butterfly kissing our heads.

“Oh no!” Aunt Marilyn shouted as the glare of headlights appeared on the other side of the parking lot.  “That’s Marvin’s car!”

Like lightning, we piled into her car and careened out of the parking lot.  “I think he’s following us,” I said ominously, glancing over my shoulder and seeing a car push dangerously close to our bumper.

“He saw us!” Aunt Marilyn cried.

“Maybe not.  It was very dark outside.  Maybe he just saw you,” I suggested even though I knew it was ridiculous.  Even a blind bat could have seen that there were three people jumping into the car.  And Lane’s powerful physique made him nearly impossible to miss.

“No, he saw all of us,” Aunt Marilyn said woefully.  “What are we going to do now?”

No one spoke for a long minute as Aunt Marilyn curved the car sharply down a side street in a blatant attempt to lose Marvin.  Fresh out of ideas but overflowing with questions, I didn’t speak.  I just kept turning to see if Marvin’s car had been thrown off course yet.  But he was still there, still madly pursuing us at perilous speeds.  Until the crash of metal and the boom of an exploding engine forced him to stop.

In horror, Lane and I watched as Marvin’s car exploded, apparently overheating and catching fire from the impact of hitting a lamp post at 80 miles per hour.  “Just keep driving,” Lane instructed as he took out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” I asked.

“911.  We have to report this, but we don’t have to stay behind and answer the cops’ questions.  There’s nothing we can do for that guy anyway.  He’s gone.”

“Oh no, are you sure?” Aunt Marilyn asked hysterically.

“There’s no way anyone could survive a crash like that,” Lane said gravely before informing the dispatcher of the horrific scene we had just witnessed.

“Are you okay?” I asked Aunt Marilyn, sensing that she was more emotional about the crash than she wanted to let on.

“Mmmhmm,” she murmured, but I could hear the tears in her voice.

“You don’t have to hide that you’re upset.  What we just saw was awful.  And Marvin was someone you were very close to at one time,” I consoled softly as she tried to stifle a sniffle.

“This is all my fault.  I caused the man’s death!” Aunt Marilyn sobbed.

“No, it’s
his
fault,” I corrected.  “No one told him to chase us like a reckless maniac.  And no one told him to cheat on his wife either!  If he had just stayed home, he would still be alive.”

“You’re right,” Aunt Marilyn said solemnly, but I could tell she was still deeply affected.

No one spoke for the remainder of the ride back to Cupcakes by the Sea.  Watching Marvin’s car go up in flames had been traumatic for all of us, but he truly had no one to blame but himself.  Wearily, Lane and I emptied out of the car as Aunt Marilyn stayed paralyzed behind the steering wheel.

“Where are you going, Danica?” She asked as I took out my keys to the shop.

“I can’t sleep tonight.  I’m going to just stay at the shop and get some work done,” I replied.

“I’ll stay with you,” Lane offered.

“No, that’s ridiculous!  You’ve done enough for one night.  Go home, get some rest, and come back in the morning,” I insisted.

“Okay, but only if you do the same.  You need some shut-eye too.”

“I know, I really do.  I’m just so wound up and jittery…” Giving him a kiss on the cheek, I climbed back into Aunt Marilyn’s car and let her drive us home.  Lane stood in the parking lot staring after us, and I wondered what he was thinking.  Would he be there in the morning to help me or would he stay far away from the drama, and now tragedy, that just wouldn’t leave me alone?

***

Feeling like construction workers were drilling under my skull, I nonetheless dressed at dawn and dragged myself to the shop.  The stress of the night’s events must have weighed more heavily than I realized because my sleep had been fitful, punctuated by nightmares that I couldn’t remember except for the fright they caused me.  At breakfast, Aunt Marilyn claimed she didn’t feel well and was going to stay home.  She complained of a migraine, but I knew what was really bothering her and fully supported her taking some quiet time to cope.

The morning was foggy from the rain that had fallen during the night.  My thoughts were hazy too as I tried to come up with theories about what Lorraine Fallow’s connection was to Mayor O’Donnell.  Turning on my computer for assistance, I searched the internet for Lorraine Fallow.  The real estate office emerged at the top of the list, and I clicked on it, scanning her bio and trying to extract possible clues.  According to the website, she was a licensed Realtor with 22 years experience in the field.  She specialized in luxury oceanfront apartments and had won the Gold Circle award for highest sales in her region.  Nothing pertaining to Mayor O’Donnell.  I sighed, frustrated with all the dead ends I kept running into.

I knew I should stop searching and start baking, but my investigation had turned into an obsession that I had to solve in order to maintain my sanity…or rather regain it.  The topsy turvy events occurring now on a daily basis made me feel like a stunned child slammed to the bottom of a see-saw.  Perusing the web for clues also helped distract me from thoughts of Lane.  I still felt doubtful that he would come this morning as he said he would.  After all, what had I done so far but give his daughter a few free cupcakes and complicate his life?  I wasn’t the type of woman who made a man fall head over heels and turn into a lovesick fool.  Plus, as a baseball player, Lane had his choice among women. 

Another sigh escaped me as I looked up from my computer, startled to see Mayor O’Donnell standing outside the door.  Apparently, I had left it unlocked as he turned the handle and walked right in without so much as a knock.

“Good morning!” He greeted in a thunderous voice far too loud for my delicate state that morning.  Anxiety and lack of sleep had left me feeling like I had an enormous hangover.

“Good morning, Mayor.  What brings you here so early?” I asked with a tinge of suspicion.

“Just making the rounds again.  Chatting with my Sea Ridge business owners.  But I also wanted to personally apologize for missing your ribbon cutting ceremony the other day.  Unfortunately, I had to tend to an emergency.” He looked at the countertop as he spoke.

“Yes, I was disappointed.  But of course I understand.” I paused, waiting for him to elaborate on the nature of the emergency that had forced him to cancel so rudely, but he offered no explanation.

“My secretary Nancy gave you plenty of notice, though?”

“Well, not really, I mean she called that morning…wait, did you say Nancy?” An odd feeling flooded through me as he nodded.  “But the woman who called me that morning introduced herself as Lorraine Fallow.”

His bushy gray eyebrows moved closer together as a sickly pallor painted itself across his face.  I literally bit my tongue to stop myself from demanding that he tell me what he was obviously hiding.  More certain than ever that Lorraine Fallow was a crucial piece to this puzzle, I stared Mayor O’Donnell dead in the eyes while he dipped his gaze to the floor.

“Uh, I have to go.  Just remembered an early morning meeting I have.  Good day.”

Like a phantom, he disappeared from my shop, leaving me fuming. But I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily!  Rushing to the door, I looked in all directions for the mayor, then stopped short when I spotted him a block away talking animatedly on his cell phone.  Taking advantage of the fact that his back was to me, I crept up behind him until I was just close enough to hear his conversation.

“…what the hell is wrong with you?  Drinking martinis at the office again?  Why the hell did you give your real name?” A hard pause followed, and I sucked in a breath, waiting to hear more.  “Slip of the tongue, my ass.  You can’t be trusted with a task that even a monkey could handle! And forget about your cut.  I’m taking my business elsewhere.”

I zipped back to the shop as he abruptly ended the conversation and started pacing up and down the block.  Exhaling only when I was safely inside, I locked the front door, hoping he hadn’t caught a glimpse of me. 
Forget about your cut
. 
I’m taking my business elsewhere.
  So he was paying Lorraine Fallow?  But why?  My head spun with all sorts of scenarios, but none of them made any sense.  A knock at the door made me nearly leap out of my skin.  I glanced up, overjoyed to see Lane standing there with one hand in his pocket and another waving to me.

“Come in, please,” I urged, pulling him into the shop.

“Well good morning to you too,” he said with that snow-melting smile.

“You won’t believe what just happened.” I proceeded to convey the new details to him.

“Okay, don’t be upset.  This is good news.  We’re getting a lot closer to figuring this whole thing out.  If the mayor just fired Lorraine, then maybe she’ll talk to us and rat him out.  It’s worth a try,” Lane reasoned.

“You’re right.  We can show up at her real estate office at 9 am sharp before I have to open up the shop.” Catching myself, I corrected, “I mean,
I
can go.  I don’t expect you to get involved…”

“I’m already involved, Danica, and I want to be.  I’m going with you.”

“Okay good, if you really want to.  I don’t like the idea of going back to that office.  It makes me think of the stupid car chase and what happened to Marvin…” Nausea crested in my gut at the raw memory.

“I’ll be right by your side,” he promised.  “But first, let’s have a talk about this.” He pulled the USB out of his pocket.

Swallowing nervously, I implored, “What did you find?  Tell me.”