Gluten-Free Murder (Auntie Clem's Bakery Book 1) Page 10

  “What proof did you give him that you were Erin Price?”

  “What do you mean? I have ID.”

  “ID can be faked. And even if it is real, I’m sure there is more than one Erin Price in the country. In fact, I know there are, because there were other hits on the name when I looked into your background. What proof do you have that you are Clementine’s niece? Or did you and the detective just decide that you would step into the role and split the profit between you?”

  “I am Clementine’s niece. There was no need for any subterfuge. He got paid whatever he had arranged with the estate. I presented myself and confirmed that I was the Erin Price they were looking for. That’s it. That’s what happened.”

  Piper leaned back in his chair, making it creak in protest. K9 raised his head to look at his master, then put it down again with an irritated huff.

  “You weren’t even going by the name Erin Price when the detective found you.”

  “No,” Erin admitted reluctantly. He’d done his homework. How much did he know about her past? She couldn’t be easy to track.

  “In fact, you’ve gone by a number of assumed names.”

  “Yes. But not because I’m a criminal. I took the names of my foster parents, when I could. But my birth name is Erin Price. That’s what’s on all my papers.”

  “Still, I find it troubling. You’re a drifter. A con artist. Moving from place to place, operating under different names, staying around for a few months, and then going on somewhere else.”

  “I’m not a con. I haven’t conned anyone. I have moved around. But that’s not a crime.”

  “You’re not from Maine.”

  “I don’t think I said I was. I never misled you. I lived in Maine before I came here.”

  He considered that for a moment, then shrugged. She searched his face for some sign of the friendliness and good humor she had seen when he had helped her with the kitten. But his face was an impassive mask. He was the police. He had a job. And it wasn’t his job to befriend her.

  “Tell me again about the day that Mrs. Plaint died.”

  Erin rolled her eyes and groaned. “I’ve gone over it before. Why do you need me to tell it again? You’re trying to see if I’ll tell the same story? If you can trip me up?”

  “No. I have new information. I need to hear your story again, fit it all together.”

  Erin shook her head. “What new information?”

  “There was someone else in the bakery the day of the murder. It changes everything. I need to review everything again.”

  “Because of Vic? But she says she wasn’t there. She left when I arrived and stayed away until after you left.”

  “And that may or may not be true. It colors everything. I can’t verify where she was. I need to work on the assumption that she was still in the building. I need to look at the whole sequence of events again.”

  “Okay. Fine.” Erin started to outline her day, telling Piper everything she could remember.

  “When did you unlock the back stairs?” he interrupted.

  Erin cut herself off and let the question sink in.

  “I kept the back stairs locked. I could go through the door from the kitchen to the basement while it was locked, because it wasn’t a bolt, just the door handle. But to come back up from the basement to the kitchen, I needed the key. I didn’t leave it unlocked, though, just opened it with the key. I kept it locked so that customers using the commode couldn’t come back up through the kitchen. No traffic through the kitchen. Just me.”

  “So as far as you are concerned, it was locked the whole day.”

  “Yes. It was.”

  Piper said nothing. Erin thought back. She had been through that door several times. She had used her key to reenter the kitchen every time. But had it been locked, or had she only assumed that it was?

  “I never unlocked it.”

  “But you weren’t the only one with a key.”

  “Did Vic say she unlocked it? Why would she do that?”

  “She didn’t say she did. But did she? If she was going to come and go without being discovered, wouldn’t it make sense to be able to get through that door quickly? Another escape route?”

  “If she had a key, she could get through it. And no one could follow her unless they had a key. It would make more sense to leave it locked. A trap.”

  Piper nodded slowly. He made several lines of notes on the ruled yellow pad on his desk. He shuffled papers so that a sketched floor plan was in front of him. Erin watched his eyes as he studied it. Tracing possible routes through the shop. Testing her theory.

  “Vic wouldn’t have unlocked that door,” she told him.

  “If Vic didn’t unlock it, and you didn’t unlock it, then who did?”

  Erin blinked at him. “What makes you think someone did?”

  He stared at her and didn’t answer for several beats. “Because it was unlocked when I arrived on the scene.”

  “What?” Erin frowned and shook her head. “How? Who could have unlocked it, and how? Why?”

  “There are apparently more keys around than you are aware of. And you didn’t change the locks when you took possession. I’ve been focused on who was in the bakery. Who could have gone down to the basement while Angela was there. That meant you and any customers who were there between the time Angela went down to use the facilities. Mary Lou Cox. Melissa Lee. Gema Reed. The Potters, who you were assisting—”

  “The senior couple?” Erin asked. “They couldn’t have gone down and up the stairs. Especially not in the time that I went back to the kitchen to check ingredients. They both had mobility issues. They couldn’t have.”

  “As I was going to say.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Glad that we’re agreed on that point. So the suspect pool was limited to you and the three other ladies eating at the table.”

  “And now Vic,” Erin said.

  “Yes. The back door was bolted. The back stairs were unlocked. You could have gone into the kitchen and downstairs. Any of the three ladies could have gone down the front stairs while you were in the kitchen. They all alibi each other, but people sometimes make mistakes. Remember things differently. Or collude to keep something from the police, out of ignorance or misguided loyalty.”

  “But now, you think there are other suspects?”

  “Who else has a key?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t in contact with Clementine. So it could be…” Erin trailed off, seeing the answer in Piper’s eyes. “It could be anyone.”

  “Exactly. If you didn’t unlock the back stairs, because you didn’t want customers wandering into the kitchen, and Vic didn’t unlock the door, because she wanted to keep open an escape route that she could prevent anyone else from taking, then who unlocked that door and neglected to lock it again? If nobody came through the kitchen to go out through the front door, then it had to be someone with a key. The back door was bolted. Not just a spring lock. It could be opened from the inside by someone who came up the back stairs, but that person could not bolt it again. Not without a key.”

  Erin supposed she should be happy the suspect pool had opened up. That took some of the police suspicion off of her. With everyone who might have had a key having had opportunity to sneak down the stairs to murder Angela, Piper would have to focus his attention on those who had motive to harm her. Which put the focus back on Erin. Or maybe on Vic.

  “Have you found anything out about the food that was tested?” Erin asked. “Was there any cross-contamination? It’s still possible that it was just a tragic accident. Angela might have forgotten her autoinjector. Or used it and not gotten a new one yet.”

  “So far, nothing from the bakery has tested positive for wheat.”

  “Well, that’s good! I mean, for my business. You can confirm that my products aren’t unsafe. So the public won’t avoid buying from me for fear of contamination.”

  “That also means it was intentional poisoning. If the wheat didn’t come f
rom the muffins, where did it come from?”

  “I was wondering if she might have another allergy she didn’t know about. To… chocolate, or eggs, or something else in the muffin. Or even something in the air down there. Dust or spores. Fumes from the paint thinner I used to clean the brushes.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “You’d have to ask the coroner, I guess… I don’t know if they have any way of telling whether it was wheat or some other allergen. I don’t even know if they can tell the difference between something that was ingested and something that was inhaled.”

  “You really want this to be an accident.”

  “Well… yes. Of course. I don’t want to be the suspect in a murder investigation. I just want to run the bakery.”

  He gave a thin smile. Not the kind that made the dimple appear in his cheek. No real humor behind it.

  “Like I told Vic. Don’t leave town.”

  “I don’t intend to.” Erin looked at her watch. “I’d really like to get home and get to bed. After making sure the kitten hasn’t destroyed the house, of course.”

  She gave a little laugh and waited for him to join in and ask her how the kitten was and how it had settled in. But he didn’t. He looked through his notes, mouth pulling down.

  “Keep yourself available for further questions. I’m not done with you, but I’m going to need to go through everything again. There is still the possibility that Vic was still in the shop at the time that Mrs. Plaint was killed. And relatives… it’s a fact that family is more likely to have killed her than a near-stranger.”

  “So, she’s a better suspect than I am.”

  “That should make you happy.”

  “It should, but it doesn’t. I feel bad for Vic. She didn’t do it.”

  “You leave that to me.”

  She walked out of Officer Piper’s office feeling disappointed and depressed. A lot of it was probably just attributable to being tired. She always got more emotional when she was tired. ‘Things will look better in the morning’ had long been a late-night mantra for her. And things always did look better once she was rested.

  She should have been happy there was a better suspect than she was. She should have been happy that Piper was considering outsiders. Anyone else who might have a key to the bakery. And she should have been happy that he hadn’t arrested her for anything.

  But she didn’t feel better. Just glad that the interview was over.

  Vic was sitting on the chair outside the police department that she had previously occupied. She was sitting ramrod straight, not slouched over. If she was guilty, she wouldn’t be there. She would have taken Erin’s twenty dollars and found the quickest way she could out of town.

  Unless she knew she was being tailed and was waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.

  Vic gave her a tired smile. “All done? I feel like I’ve been up since three o’clock.”

  “Maybe because you have been.”

  Vic stood up. She looked a little awkward, as if she didn’t know what to do with herself.

  “You’re coming home with me,” Erin said. “We’ll both get a good sleep, and…”

  “Everything will look better in the morning?”

  Erin laughed.

  “My mom always used to say that,” Vic said apologetically. “I know, it’s sort of lame…”

  “It’s exactly what I was just thinking. It’s always been true for me.”

  Vic sighed and gave Erin a sideways look. “I hope it’s true this time.”

  Erin walked in the front door with a sigh of relief. It was good to be back in the familiar surroundings. It was becoming her sanctum. Starting to feel just a little like home. Vic entered behind her. They were both careful, looking down, watching for the kitten. He might want to run free after being cooped up all day, so they opened the door no farther than they had to in order to slip through the opening, and then shut it quickly behind them.

  “Doesn’t look like it’s been destroyed,” Vic observed.

  “No. Everything looks fine out here.”

  She led the way into the house. “Here, kitty, kitty…”

  When they went into the kitchen, she heard the skittering of claws and turned to see the orange kitten running toward them. He stopped and sat down, smelling the air. Vic cooed.

  “Oh, isn’t he just the cutest little thing!” She reached to pick him up. “You aren’t big enough to keep someone up at night, are you?”

  He tried to avoid her hand, but Vic was too quick and in a minute had the kitten snuggled to her chest and was stroking him and scratching his ears. The kitten started a loud, motorcycle purr.

  “Awww…”

  “You’ve got the touch,” Erin said. “I couldn’t catch him.”

  “Well, here,” Vic handed the kitten to her. “You should hold him, then. Get him used to you.”

  “He slept on top of my head last night.”

  Vic giggled. “He’s just so precious. I can’t believe he’s big enough to leave his mama.”

  “He seems to be able to manage the dry cat food, so that’s a good sign. He won’t starve and doesn’t have to be bottle fed.”

  Vic patted him with one finger while Erin held him.

  “Yeah. That’s good.”

  “Do you want the bathtub first? You probably need it the most.”

  Vic sniffed at her shirt. “I’m not that bad, am I? I tried to sponge off every day. You know, at the sink. The bathroom one, not the kitchen.”

  “No, you’re not bad at all. I just know it’s been a while since you had access to a tub or shower. Do you want it?”

  “Yes, yes,” Vic said quickly. “I do!”

  “Help yourself. Grab a towel from the linen closet at the end of the hall and I’ll get you something to change into. I’m shorter than you, so the pants will be too short, but it’s just for bed. We’ll wash your clothes so that they’re fresh for the morning. Do you have other clothes… somewhere?”

  “I have a few things stashed,” Vic admitted.

  “Okay, good. You can bring them back here so that you have what you need for a few days.”

  Vic stood there looking at Erin.

  Erin swallowed and looked away. “What…?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean… my own aunt wouldn’t have anything to do with me. You could have told the cops all kinds of things to implicate me and instead you’re telling him you don’t think I did it. You’re a stranger to me.”

  “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about you. I think… people should take care of each other.”

  Vic’s eyes glistened. “Maybe you wouldn’t say that if you knew more about me.”

  “I’ve been where you are… You’re right, I don’t know your past. But I know what you need.”

  Vic moved suddenly away from Erin. She left the kitchen and went down the hall to the linen closet. Erin heard her open the bathroom door and turn on the water. Erin looked down at the kitten.

  “Okay, then. Vic can have the first bath and I’ll get you your dinner. Have you been waiting patiently all day?”

  The kitten purred and kneaded Erin with sharp claws. Erin quickly detached him and put him down on the kitchen floor again. The kitten looked up at her towering over him. She must be like a monster to him.

  “It’s okay,” Erin said softly. “Let’s get you some food.”

  She felt bad about only having the hard kibble intended for adult cats and looked through the pantry for something else appropriate. There was no canned cat food, but there was tuna. Erin grabbed it and picked up the cat’s dish. As soon as she had the can open, the fishy smell flooded the room and the kitten was rubbing around her ankles, making excited little mrrrow noises. He obviously liked what he was smelling. Erin liked a tuna sandwich now and then, but the smell was so strong she had to breathe through her mouth to avoid gagging. Erin started with half the can of tuna and sprinkled in some of the dry kibble. She added a splash of water and stirre
d it, leaving it on the counter for a minute to soften. She refreshed the water dish, which the kitten sniffed at. He took a couple of laps, as if to show his gratitude, but then went back to trying to climb straight up the cupboards to sink his teeth into the good stuff. At least he wasn’t trying to climb her leg.

  In a couple more minutes, the kitten was gobbling down his gourmet supper. Erin went to her room to get some clothes for Vic, and then to Clementine’s room to prepare it for company. It only took a couple of minutes to change the sheets.

  “Clothes for you,” Erin announced as she poked her head into the bathroom and put the clothes down on the counter. Vic jumped and instinctively turned away from her. But with the shower curtain pulled shut, Vic’s modesty was protected. Erin chuckled. “See you in a few minutes.”

  “I won’t be long,” Vic promised, her voice sounding strange in the enclosed space of the bathroom. “I won’t use up all the water.”

  Erin went up to the attic room to read for a few minutes while she waited for Vic to get out. She was finally able to focus on her book, relaxed, but not too sleepy. Or maybe it was just the sound of the shower below her, and having someone else in the house, so it didn’t seem so quiet and lonely.

  She always told herself that she didn’t get lonely. She had lived on her own for so long, how could she? She liked to be independent and have her own space. But her little family had grown from one to three and she liked the feeling of having others around her. Her life felt more… cushioned. Like she was safely in a nest instead of rattling around the empty house, all hard surfaces and sharp edges.

  “Erin?”

  Erin startled at Vic’s voice somewhere close at hand. She had been engrossed in her book and hadn’t noticed the shower turning off.

  “I’m up here.” Erin got up and went to the top of the stairs. Vic was peering up at her. “Come on up.”

  Vic hesitated. She put her foot on the bottom step. “Are you sure? I thought this might be your… retreat. Maybe you don’t want other people in your space?”

  “No, come have a look.”

  Vic ascended the stairs without any more persuasion. She looked around the attic room.

  “This is awesome! Really! I love it.”