CHAPTER 4
Doughboy and Acne Face waited outside while I went upstairs and dressed. My mind raced around in circles. The mayor killed in my bakery and my fingerprints were on the murder weapon. How could that be? I’ve only been in town a little over twenty-four hours. I’d only met the mayor once. Surely, they didn’t . . . couldn’t think . . . well, they certainly wouldn’t be here if they didn’t think I had something to do with it. My fingerprints were on the murder weapon. I pulled on a pair of leggings and a sweater, which took very little time, and spent the next few minutes pacing.
“Maybe I should call my dad and arrange for a lawyer to be with me. What do you think?” I stared at Baby as though he were going to reply.
Baby rolled over on his back, his underbelly exposed for the world to see. He wiggled his body from side to side.
“No, you’re right. I can’t call my dad. I can’t expose my weakness like that. He’ll just say he was right. I’m not mature or responsible enough to be on my own, but what am I going to do?” I paced.
With his itch abated, Baby did a big-dog version of the downward-facing dog yoga position that ended when he sat. Even though I was standing and taller than him, it looked as though he were staring down his nose at me. The look lit my memory.
I pulled out my phone. “Mr. Russell, he’s an attorney. He’ll know what to do.” I tapped the number I’d saved in my phone for him and waited what felt like a lifetime for him to answer.
“Hello,” he said groggily.
“Mr. Russell, this is Maddy Montgomery, I’m Octavia Baker’s—”
“I know who you are, Ms. Montgomery. Do you know what time it is?”
“Mr. Russell, the police are here. They said the mayor’s been murdered and my—”
“What!”
“Look, this will go a lot faster if you’d stop interrupting and just let me tell you what’s happened.” I hurriedly told him about the police on my doorstep waiting to take me . . . I don’t know where, to answer questions. “I need advice. I didn’t kill the mayor or anyone, but I think it might be good to have a lawyer, and you’re the only one I know in New Bison.”
He was moving and sounded a little breathless. “You’re right. Go with the police, but don’t answer any questions until I get there.”
Knowing that I wouldn’t have to face the police alone had a calming effect. I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.
The two policemen were on the front porch, right where I’d left them. When I opened the front door, Doughboy released a breath and his shoulders relaxed.
“Shall I follow you?” I held up my car keys.
They exchanged glances.
“That way, you don’t have to drive us home.”
“Us?” Acne Face asked.
“Baby and me. I can’t leave him here alone.” I paused. “I mean, it’s not like I’m under arrest, am I?” I smiled.
The officers glanced at Baby just as what looked like a quart of drool fell from his mouth.
It’s no surprise that, given a choice between riding with a two-hundred-fifty-pound English mastiff with drool hanging like tinsel on a Christmas tree from his jowls or allowing me to follow them in my own car, they decided it would be perfectly all right for me to follow them.
The drive to the police station was short and uneventful, but for a split second, visions of Thelma and Louise crossed my mind. However, things didn’t end well for them, and I doubted that Baby and I would fare much better, so I pushed all thoughts of flight from my mind and followed the police, careful not to exceed the speed limit or violate any of the rules of the road. My high school driver’s education teacher would have been proud.
The New Bison Police Station was a newer building with a nautical theme. It was blue and white with a lighthouse dome and looked more like a bank branch than a garrison for law-enforcement officers. The parking lot was also larger than I would have thought necessary for a town this size, but then maybe the citizens of New Bison visited the police station frequently. There weren’t many cars in the lot at this time of the early morning, but there was a gray-and-blue Jeep with a hitch towing a khaki-colored boat with MARINE PATROL painted on the side. I guess that explained the lighthouse-themed police station.
I grabbed the towel that I’d designated as Baby’s for handling drool and gave his face a wipe. When I finished, he shook his head and flung the remaining drool across the dashboard. “When the rental company finishes charging me for cleaning this car, I could have bought it.”
Baby put his paw on the dashboard and barked.
“You really think I should buy this car?” Baby nodded . . . well, it looked like a nod. “If I’m not arrested, maybe I’ll consider it. Now, let’s go.”
We followed the two policemen into the station. Inside, the space was open and airy. Not at all what I expected. I’d never been inside a police station, but I expected it to be dark and gloomy.
We walked into the main area under the dome. There stood the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She was wearing a uniform, which indicated she worked here, although she looked as though she would have been equally at home draped in designer clothes on a catwalk in Paris or Milan. Nearly six feet tall with gray eyes and dark, wavy hair pulled back into a bun, she looked stunning, despite the beige uniform.
She stood under the dome with her hands at her side, legs wide like a Wild West gunslinger.
Her facial expression was dead serious. I followed the angle of her line of sight, which ended with Baby. To my utter surprise, Baby held her gaze.
Sensing a catastrophe in the making, I tugged on the dog’s leash, but to no avail.
The woman counted. “One. Two. Three.”
On three, Baby took off toward her, dragging me on the end of his leash and me yelling for him to stop.
Baby charged.
The woman pulled her hand from her holster and pointed a finger at Baby just as he leaped into the air.
“Bang.”
From midair, Baby stopped and then dropped to the ground, inches from the woman.
“What just happened?” I stared from the gunslinger to the prostrate dog on the ground.
After a few seconds, the other officers who had come out to watch applauded. The woman got down on her knees and started rubbing Baby’s belly, while he rolled around on his back with his tongue hanging out and drool falling from his mouth. When the lovefest was over, the woman stood up and extended a hand. “Hello, I’m Sheriff April Johnson.”
“Madison Montgomery.” I shook her hand. “Obviously, you already know Baby.”
“Oh, yes. Miss Octavia and I were good friends. I really miss her.” Her eyes filled with water, and she choked up, but she swallowed it. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Baby nudged her hand with his nose.
“Did you teach him to play dead?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I wish I could take the credit for it, but that was all Miss Octavia. She taught him a ton of tricks, but the best one was watching them dance.”
“Dance?”
“Your aunt loved Frank Sinatra, and she and Baby would dance around the house. She said Baby was the best dance partner she ever had because he wasn’t always trying to take the lead.” She chuckled.
She knew Octavia was my great-aunt, not my aunt, but I was getting tired of correcting people. It was easier to let it go, so I did. “I wish I had known her.”
“She was an amazing lady.” She took a deep breath. “But you’re not here in the middle of the night to listen to me prattle on about Miss Octavia, bless her heart.”
Oh, I don’t know. I’d certainly prefer that to spending the night locked in a cell.
“Let’s go back to my office.” She gave Baby a pat, turned, and walked around a desk.
I walked past an officer who was looking at a video of Baby’s performance on his cell phone. “Would you mind sending me the video?” I scribbled my telephone number on a scrap of paper I found in my purse, handed it to him, and then quickly followed Sheriff Johnson.
There was a metal detector like in airports, but she took Baby and me around the side and through a door that led back past a few cubicles. In the back, there was a door with her name on it. She held it open for Baby and me to pass through before she closed it. “Coffee or tea?”
I shook my head.
She moved behind the desk and sat. “Now, did the officers tell you why you’re here?”
“They said Mayor Rivers was murdered in my bakery and that my fingerprints were on the murder weapon, but I don’t understand how that can be. I barely knew the man.”
“I know. You didn’t get to town until the day before yesterday and just met him. Although he had the power to infuriate most women in record time with his condescending remarks, I doubt that he had enough time to irritate you enough to stab him.”
“Is that how he was murdered?”
“I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but Miss Octavia always told me I should trust my gut, and my gut tells me that you’re not the killer.”
I stared. “Then why did you have me picked up and brought here?”
“Because he was found in your bakery after it was closed. I was hoping you could tell me why he was there. Plus, it’s one of your knives. I recognized it at once. When we dusted it for prints, the only ones on it were yours.”
“I have no idea why he was in the bakery after hours. I certainly didn’t let him in.” I paused. “Wait. Where did you get my fingerprints?”
April smiled. “That was easy. With your dad in the Navy, I figured you’d probably have had a summer job on some military base. Sure enough, there you were.”
“But why? What made you think they were my fingerprints?”
“Miss Octavia used to always say, the easiest route was usually the best route. The knife had Baby Cakes engraved on the handle, so I started with everyone connected to the bakery first. That meant you, Leroy, and Hannah. I tried you and Leroy first, and sure enough, I got a match. Although it was a bit challenging with the fire—”
“Fire? What fire?”
“I’m sorry, I should have told you about the fire. Whoever killed Mayor Rivers started a fire, probably in an attempt to destroy the evidence.”
I stood as panic gripped my heart. “Leroy. He was going to stay—”
“Leroy’s fine. He has trouble sleeping—insomnia. He knew I was working third shift, and he brought me a coffee and some of that delicious Lemon Zucchini Bread.”
I flopped back down into my chair. “Thank God.”
“Leroy ran into Tyler Lawrence on his way back to the bakery. Tyler forgot something in his shop and headed back downtown. That’s when they noticed the flames coming from Baby Cakes. Garrett Kelley must have seen the flames, too, because they found him trying to drag the mayor outside, but it was too late. If they hadn’t arrived when they did, Garrett, too, would be dead from the smoke.”
It took a few moments for the shock to wear off. “Are they okay?”
“Tyler called nine-one-one while Leroy dragged Garrett out, but it was too late for the mayor. Leroy and Garrett went to the hospital, but they should both be okay.”
Her phone rang. She listened for a few moments before frowning as she covered the phone with her hand. “Chris Russell is outside demanding to be present while you’re questioned.”
“Oops.” I’d forgotten all about him. “I called him when the two cops—ah, I mean, police—showed up at my door in the middle of the night demanding that I come with them.”
She sighed and then spoke into the phone. “You’d better send him back.”
The Chris Russell who marched into the office wasn’t the same prim, proper attorney who sat behind his desk with his starched Oxford shirt, dark suit, wispy hair, and wire-framed glasses. This Chris Russell’s shirt was wrinkled, and peeking out from his coat collar was the edge of a pajama top. In his haste, he’d misbuttoned his trench coat, causing the coat to bunch at the bottom, and he had a bad case of bed head that caused a section of his hair to refuse to lie flat. “I hope you haven’t been questioning my client without legal counsel present.”
“I really wasn’t questioning her at all, not really. Please have a seat.” She indicated a chair. “Would you like coffee?”
“What? No . . . thank you. Are you arresting my client?”
“Mr. Russell, I’m sorry that you came all the way down here for nothing, but Miss Montgomery isn’t under arrest. We just wanted to talk to her. I’m afraid my deputies may have been a little overzealous when I asked them to bring her. I didn’t mean to imply that she was wanted for anything more than to help us fill in some gaps.” She gave a big dazzling smile. “But since you’re here, why don’t you sit down?”
Mr. Russell consulted his watch and flopped down in the chair.
“Now, I wanted to ask Maddy—”
“Wait,” I said. “You told me there was a fire at the bakery.”
“It looks like whoever killed Mayor Rivers tried to destroy the evidence. Thankfully, it looks like Garrett Kelley arrived fairly soon after the fire started. The fire department put the fire out quickly, but . . . the majority of the damage came from smoke and water. You won’t be able to open again for quite some time.”
I groaned.
“I’m sure Octavia had insurance, but I’ll look through the papers tomorrow.” Russell’s glasses slipped down his nose, but he pushed them back in place and ran his hand over his head.
April continued, “I was telling Madison that I recognized the weapon used to murder the mayor. It was one of Miss Octavia’s knives and had Baby Cakes engraved on the handle.” She must have sensed that Chris Russell was revving up for a battle because she quickly added, “However, since it was from the bakery, and we know that she owns the bakery, it would make perfect sense that her fingerprints would be on it.”
Mr. Russell’s shoulders relaxed, and he sat back in his chair. “Then why?”
“Madison’s only been here a couple of days. I know she had an argument with the mayor, but most people in town have fought with him at one point or another, including you.” She smiled.
Chris Russell bristled, but said nothing.
April turned to me. “Can you tell me what the argument was about?”
“Don’t answer that.” Chris Russell scooted to the edge of his seat.
“I don’t mind. I have nothing to hide. I didn’t kill Mayor Rivers.”
Chris Russell stood up. “Sheriff, I’d like a word with my client alone.”
“Certainly, why don’t Baby and I go see what we can find to snack on in the break room.”
I don’t know if it was hearing his name or the word snack that did the trick, but Baby, who moments earlier had been asleep, roused himself, and with nary a backward glance at me trotted behind April out of the office.
“Miss Montgomery, I know you don’t think you have anything to hide, but let me caution you that anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. Sheriff Johnson is trying to catch a murderer. Many innocent people are lulled into a false sense of security by the police, and they end up saying things that can get them arrested, prosecuted, and imprisoned or . . . worse.”
“But I didn’t murder Mayor Rivers.”
“That doesn’t matter. Why don’t you tell me what happened and let me guide you? After all, that’s why you called me in the middle of the night, isn’t it?”
My guilt inflamed my cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’ve never had the police come to my house before. I was scared, and I didn’t want to call The Admiral—my father.”
“You were right to call me, but you need to listen to me. Now, what happened?”
I told him about the altercation we had at the bakery. “I’m pretty sure I never touched those knives.... At least . . . I must have touched them, but not when the mayor was there. I mean, Leroy is going to teach me to cook, but I don’t think I touched . . . oh . . .”
“What? You remembered something. What is it?”
“It’s just that the first night when I arrived, after I went to the house, later that night, I went to the bakery.”
“Was the mayor there?”
I shook my head. “No one was there . . . well, I didn’t see anyone, just me and Baby, but that must have been when I touched the knife. Baby was acting funny . . . like he heard something, and he ran off barking, and I grabbed a knife to defend myself.”
“Against whom?”
I shook my head. “No idea. I just got into town, and I didn’t know anyone. I grabbed a knife, and then Baby came trotting back like nothing happened, so I put the knife down. No one was there. At least, I don’t think anyone was there.”
“Where did you put the knife?”
I thought for a moment but shook my head. “I just laid it down on one of the shelves in the store, but it wasn’t there today—I mean yesterday. Leroy mentioned one of the knives was missing, but we figured it would turn up.”
“Did anyone see you while you were at the bakery?”
“I don’t think so. It was late.”
April knocked on the door. “Is it okay for us to come in?”
Baby didn’t wait. He bounced into the room and greeted me by putting his paws on my shoulders.
April took her seat behind the desk. Upon getting a nod from the lawyer, she turned to me. “Now, would you mind telling me about the argument you had with the mayor?”
Mr. Russell granted his approval, so I repeated what I’d just told him about checking out the bakery on my first night in town and picking up the knife and then the argument with the mayor. She asked me to describe the knife.
“It was a knife. I honestly wasn’t paying a lot of attention, but it wasn’t the biggest knife in the block. It was medium sized with a whitish handle.”
“Sounds like our murder weapon, all right.”
“Anyone could have taken the knife. You don’t have anything to hold my client on.”
“I agree.” She smiled. “I have no intention of arresting Madison.”
“So, she’s free to go?”
“Absolutely.”
April got up and shook hands with Mr. Russell and me and then gave Baby a big hug. She spoke baby talk to him, which made his tail wag and his butt shake. Then she gave him a pat and promised to bring him a special treat when she saw him again.
Outside, Mr. Russell reminded me not to talk to the police unless he was present and then surprised me when he climbed into a Pacific-blue McLaren Spider. Honestly, I wasn’t that into cars and had never heard of a McLaren, but Elliott, my ex, had been obsessed with British sports cars. He could drone on for hours about dihedral doors and carbon ceramic brakes. This expensive sports car was going to be his gift to himself upon graduation from medical school. Back then, I took my fiancée responsibilities seriously and looked at brochures, oohed and aahed at the appropriate places, and feigned interest, as was my duty. I wasn’t an expert, but New Bison didn’t seem like the place for a three-hundred-thousand-dollar sports car, especially in the middle of the winter. However, who was I to judge? If I’d shelled out more than a quarter of a million dollars for a car, I’d probably drive it every day, too.
I opened the passenger door to the rental and glanced down in time to see Baby relieve himself on the tire. When he was done, he hopped up into the car. I’m really going to need to buy a seat cover.
When I got behind the wheel, my phone chimed. One glance showed me that the video of Baby and the sheriff had arrived. I took a few moments to watch it before I posted it to social media. #GunfightAtTheNewBisonPolice #NoMastiffs-WereInjuredMakingThisVideo #WhoKnewEnglishMastiffs-WereSuchHams #EnglishMastiffDramaQueen