Sweets of Fire Page 2

  “Then how do you say I can’t screw this up?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “You’re going to screw up and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you do your best and love her the best you can. The rest comes out in the wash. It always does. You won’t be perfect and she doesn’t need perfect. She just needs you to love her and to try your hardest, and you’re already doing that.”

  He puts his arms around me and buries his freezing cold face in my warm neck. “Thank you.”

  I wriggle away laughing. “Go on. I’ll see you tonight.”

  2

  I end up staying at the store long after closing. I’m so busy stocking up all the glass jars on my display wall I forget all about our date until I come out the front door and twist the key in the lock.

  David comes up behind me. “All finished?”

  I jump out of my skin and whirl around. “Holy mackerel, you scared the bejeezus out of me!”

  He leans back. “Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.”

  “Of course I forgot about our date!” My hand flies to my heart. “I haven’t stopped working since lunch. I wasn’t thinking about that. Do you think I would be this late if I did remember?”

  He inclines his head down the street. “Well? Are you ready to go now?”

  I frown at him. “Do you still want to go out? It’s kinda late, isn’t it?”

  “What difference does it make?” he asks. “Are we going to dinner or not?”

  “All right. Fine, but I don’t think we have time for me to go home first. Let’s just go.” I move to his side. “What about your reservation? It will be long over by now.”

  “I texted Stacy and said it looked like you were working overtime. She’s holding our table for us.”

  We get to the Happy-Go-Lucky. He puts out his hand to open the door when I spot a light coming from the antique store in the next building. “It looks like Simone is burning the midnight oil, too. That’s good. I think I’ll stop by on my way home and get that doll’s house for Ariel.”

  “What do you want to do that for?” he demands. “It’s not Christmas anymore and she doesn’t play with dolls.”

  “I just want to get it for her, and maybe she would play with dolls if she had a doll’s house.”

  I follow him inside. Stacy Koontz meets us at the register in her usual bustle. “There you are! How many times do I have to tell you not to work so hard? You’ll drive yourself into an early grave.”

  “Don’t worry, Stacy,” I tell her. “As soon as this holiday rush settles down, David and I are going to spend the rest of our lives in rocking chairs on the front porch.”

  Stacy casts a blank stare at David, but he only smiles. “Never mind. Can we get our table now, Stacy?”

  She hurries to the back of the café and seats us in our usual booth. She hands us our menus and leaves us to our own devices. I read my menu and, once I make up my mind what I want to order, I put it aside so I can concentrate on David. “So what’s Ariel doing with herself this evening?”

  “Would you believe it? She’s studying Chemistry.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I really think she does it for fun.”

  “Wow,” I remark. “No wonder she’s doing so well in school.”

  “Yeah, about that. I’m worried. That’s one reason I wanted to talk to you alone. I mean, I wanted to see you and have dinner with you and everything. It’s not all about Ariel. I just want to be clear on that.”

  I lay my hand over his, rest my chin in my other hand, and gaze up into his perfect blue eyes. “I understand. What’s on your mind?”

  “It’s about her school. I’m really not comfortable taking her out of her elite prep school in Hartford to send her to some run-of-the-mill public high school in Peterborough. That sounds to me like the worst idea on the planet.”

  “What do you suggest?” I ask. “The only way you could keep her where she is would be to….” I trail off. I honestly can’t think of one decent suggestion to keep Ariel going to her old school.

  “The only way I could keep her where she is would be to commute to Hartford twice a day to drop her off and pick her up.”

  “You can’t do that,” I point out. “That would be…..”

  He cocks his head to one side. “Why can’t I do that? What’s stopping me?”

  “Well, for a start…..” I flounder to make sense of all this. “You’re the ranking cop in this town. You can’t exactly go AWOL for…. what—an hour in the morning and another in the afternoon.”

  “Why not?” he demands. “Tomlinson can cover the town for an hour at a time. If anything comes up, he’ll call me and I’ll beat it back to town as quick as possible.”

  I shrug. I don’t know what to say. “You would have to get permission from your sergeant in Peterborough.”

  “I already did.”

  My head shoots up. “You didn’t.”

  “I take Ariel’s well-being very seriously.”

  “I know you do, but Jesus!” I pass my hand across my eyes. “That’s a big commitment.”

  “I would have made a much bigger commitment than that if I had been the one to raise her from birth, and that’s exactly what I would have done if I had known my wife was pregnant. Ariel is my daughter and she’s the only child I’m ever going to have. No sacrifice is too great, and I want to make up for all the time I didn’t get to be there for her growing up. Staying in her current school is the best thing for her. We all agree on that. She’s thriving there. She has friends who are at her academic level and who support her goals. If she left all that behind to switch to a high school in Peterborough, she would have to start from scratch. I couldn’t do that to her.”

  I fiddle with my napkin. I’m completely blown away by this. “Have you talked to her about it?”

  “Only to assure her she would continue going to the same school. She was very relieved.”

  I let out a broken sigh. “Then I guess it’s the right decision.”

  “I know it is.”

  Now that we got that out of the way, I raise my head to scrutinize him. “So what do you need from me?”

  “Nothing, I guess. I suppose I just wanted to run it by you and make sure you agreed with my decision.”

  My shoulders slump and I press his hand across the table. “I told you that you would be a good dad.”

  “She already lost Pauline and the only home she’s ever known. I don’t want to be the reason she loses anymore.”

  Just then, the waiter arrives to take our order. I wait until she leaves before I lean close to David and murmur. “You have one hundred percent of my support on this. You’re doing a great thing for her.”

  He closes his eyes and bows his head. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

  We get through the rest of the meal without talking about Ariel. After we finish, he pays and we walk outside. The cold hits me like a truck and I shudder.

  “We don’t have to walk home,” David tells me. “My car is right over by the deli. I’ll drive you.”

  “Thanks.” When we turn, I notice the light on at the antique store again. “Just let me stop in and pay for the doll’s house. I’ll come back for it later.”

  “Put it in the back seat,” he offers.

  “Really?”

  “What are you going to do—carry it home?” He wags his finger at me. “You don’t have a car. I’ll go get mine and you can take the doll’s house home now. That’s the best thing.”

  He strides away down the sidewalk and I continue to the antique store. I peek through the front window, but I don’t see anybody inside. I knock on the door and rub my hands together while I wait for Simone to answer.

  When David shows up with the car, I’m still waiting. He parks at the curb and joins me. “What’s the hold-up?”

  “I don’t know. She isn’t answering the door.”

  He raises his hand and delivers several hard, loud bangs to the door. The noise reverberates loud enough to wake the dead. Still no answer. I blow into my hands. David goes to the window and squints inside. The golden glow beams through the glass, but we don’t hear anything moving in the store.

  “That’s weird,” David mutters. “That’s not like her to leave the light on.”

  “Let’s just go,” I suggest. “I can come back in the morning before the candy store gets really busy.”

  He nods and starts to turn away when a brisk, clipped footstep barks down the street. Our jaws drop when Simone comes marching toward us. Her countenance brightens when she recognizes us. “Hello, Margaret, Detective. What brings you out at this hour?”

  “I was just going to stop in and buy that doll’s house for Ariel, but…..” I point to the window. “If you’re out here, who’s inside?”

  “Christopher was helping out in the store today.” She digs out her keys and moves to the door. “He was supposed to meet me for dinner at seven, but he didn’t turn up so I figured he must have gotten distracted by something. Let’s go inside. Then you can get your doll’s house and I can get Christopher.”

  She laughs while she unlocks the door and we all walk in. Furniture, knick-knacks, and collectibles fill the store on all sides. Simone calls out, “Christopher!” the minute we get inside.

  She stuffs her jangling keys into her handbag and goes to the window. She lifts the doll’s house out of the display case and sets off for the rear where she keeps her checkout counter.

  “Christopher! You’re late again.” Simone laughs and sets the doll’s house on the counter. She chirps over her shoulder and I see her face all lit up with glowing happiness the way it did this afternoon. “He’s always late. Do you know I’ve bought him a watch for every Christmas since I first met him?”

  She laughs again and hustles around the counter. She gets to the end of it and puts out her foot to walk to the register when, out of nowhere, she lets out a spine-chilling screech and collapses to her knees.

  “Christopher!” she shrieks. “Christopher!”

  David and I rush to her. We find her bent over Christopher’s prostrate body behind the counter. She tries to lift him up and the body slips from her grasp in a slick pool of blood. Blood soaks his clothes and leaves gory imprints all over her beautiful houndstooth blazer.

  “Christopher!” she screams. “Oh, Christopher! No! Dear God, no! Please, say something, Christopher!”

  David whips around the counter to her side. He lays hold of her arms and tries to restrain her from touching the body.

  “Christopher!” she wails. “No, Christopher! Get up! Please get up, Christopher!”

  David rounds on me, roaring over the noise. “Get her out of here! We can’t let her contaminate the crime scene.”

  I scoot around the counter as best I can without stepping in the blood, which trails across the tile floor and seems to stick to everything. I don’t know what to do with Simone, but instinct kicks in. I grab her shoulders and help David pry her away from the body.

  She keeps screaming, “Christopher! No! No! This can’t be. Christopher!”

  Between the two of us, we manage to wrestle her out from behind the counter to a wooden bench set up not far away. Simone sinks onto it moaning, “Oh, Christopher! Dear God! This can’t be happening.”

  I brace myself and put my arm around her shoulders. I’ve already got blood all over my clothes, so what difference does it make now? I might as well give her what comfort I can.

  David pulls out his phone and barks down the line to call out the Forensics Team. My mind goes into hyperdrive trying to figure out what the devil is going on. Simone rocks back and forth still crying for Christopher, but at least she’s not screaming anymore.

  A few minutes later, red and blue lights flash through the window. David goes out to talk to the crime scene people. When he comes back, he sits down next to me. “Will you please take Simone home? I don’t want her around for this.”

  “I’ll take her, but I don’t really think it’s a good idea for her to walk home in this cold. It’s too far.”

  “Take my car.” He shoves his keys into my hand.

  My eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” He shoots me a sidelong glance. “And would you mind coming back here afterward?”

  It takes me a fraction of a second to realize what he’s saying. “You want me to help you work the case?”

  “Please.”

  “I’d be happy to.” That’s the understatement of the year. “What will I….?” I incline my head to one side. “What should I say about…..?”

  He casts a subtle glance toward Simone. “Don’t say anything yet. He was shot in the chest, so the less we say about it, the better.”

  He stands up to go show the Forensics people in. That leaves me alone with Simone. She hugs her arms against her stomach and an agonized moan comes through her compressed lips. In a matter of seconds, that happy, elated woman who let me into this store vanishes, maybe forever. Now I’m sitting next to a broken old lady who just lost the one person in the world who meant the most to her.

  I put my arms around her. That’s the least I can do for her right now. “Come on, Simone. I’ll take you home.”

  3

  Simone cries all the way to her house. I park David’s car in the driveway and steer her into the house before she snaps out of her despair.

  I open the front door and push her inside. When I shut the door, she grabs my arm. “You have to understand, Margaret! I loved him—not as a lover, you understand. You have to understand it’s possible to love someone as much when they’re only a friend—maybe more so.”

  I take her hands. Her fingers still feel sticky from the blood. “It’s okay, Simone. I understand you loved Christopher. Friends can be family, too.”

  Her lip quivers. “You have no idea what he means to me.”

  I take a step toward her and pull the door closed behind me. “I think I might have some idea. Now come upstairs with me. We need to get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”

  I guide her up the staircase to her bedroom. I wash her hands under the tap in the bathroom. When we return to her room, she sinks onto the bed. She sits limp and dejected while I hunt around. I find a pair of pajamas and help her get off her bloody suit.

  She doesn’t offer any resistance until I fold down the bedclothes and move her over to tuck her in. She sits down next to the pillows and clasps my hands. She lifts her watery eyes to gaze at me. “You’ll find out who did this, won’t you, Margaret? I trust you to solve this case. You’ll find out who did this to Christopher. I need you to say you will.”

  I try to be gentle prying her clenched fingers off my hand. “You know I will, Simone. I’m going straight back to your shop to talk to Detective Graham about this. We’ll find out who did this. You leave it to me.”

  “Thank you,” she croaks.

  She leans back on the pillows and I tuck her in. The minute her head touches the pillow, she breaks into silent sobs. She buries her face in the pillows, and I take the opportunity to slip out of the house.

  In the silent dark, my resolve comes back. Someone killed Christopher in Simone’s shop. Why? I get into David’s car and drive back to town. By the time I park, I know what I have to do. Someone took a man’s life and robbed Simone of the friend she loved. The killer may have ruined her life along with Christopher’s. I owe it to her to solve this case.

  The Forensics Team still swarms all over the antique store. They fingerprint everything, which takes hours. I find David standing by the register scribbling notes in his notebook.

  He puts his pen away when I show up. “How is she?”

  “She’s destroyed, as you might expect.” I glance down at the floor. “What do we have here?”

  “We have a man with a bullet hole in his chest.” He puts his notebook in his jacket pocket. “Fortunately for us, though not for Christopher, the bullet didn’t exit his chest so we’ll be able to retrieve it during the autopsy. We may be able to identify the weapon once we get that. We have a pool of blood and a bloody footprint heading out the back door.”

  “I suppose no one heard the gunshot,” I remark.

  “No one heard it at the café, but that’s not surprising. They were all very busy and the noise in the kitchen, which is closest to the crime scene, is loud enough to block it out. The killer could have used a silencer, which means no one would have heard it outside the building.”

  I nod. “I was at the candy store up until I met you and I didn’t hear anything. I wonder who killed him. He wasn’t from West End, so if someone had a vendetta against him, they would have had to come from out of town.”

  “You’re forgetting something,” David points out. “The killer didn’t necessarily have to have a vendetta against Christopher to want to kill him. Maybe the killer was trying to get back at Simone by killing Christopher. Anybody who saw the two of them together in the last forty-eight hours would realize how much he meant to her. If someone wanted to hurt Simone, this would be the perfect way to do it.”

  “God, that’s cold!” I exclaim. “I can’t imagine anyone doing something so cruel.”

  “You can’t imagine anyone wanted to kill anyone,” he returns. “I find it hard to believe anyone would come all the way to West End to kill a man. I’m more inclined to believe someone local harbored a complaint against Simone and was just itching for a way to hurt her. When they saw her with Christopher, they saw their chance. Bang bang. End of story.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t argue with anything you’re saying. So where do we start?”

  Just then, a beeping noise attracts our attention to the counter. We hunt around in search of the source until we locate Simone’s handbag on the floor behind the garbage can. She must have dropped it when she first spotted Christopher’s body.

  David pops the snap and takes out Simone’s phone. It rings in his hand until he pushes the button. He holds it to his ear. “Hello?”