Fireworks, a Firecracker & Foul Play Page 3

  I nod. I can keep it together. We have a job to do. Or do we? If Logan was here planning a trip, not only does he have an alibi, but his alibi is not confidential and likely to ruin a case he’s working on. But then why didn’t he want to tell the detectives where he was? Is something else going on here?

  “Let’s get a file started for you.” Linda clicks away at her computer. “I’ll need some preliminary information.”

  “Of course.” Callie rattles off her name and address.

  Linda leans closer and closer to the computer as she types. It must be hard to see the screen with sunglasses on. When her nose is practically touching the screen, she sighs and lifts the sunglasses into her hair. I gasp when her face is revealed.

  “Oh my gosh, that looks painful,” I can’t help myself from remarking. Her right eye is bloodshot, and the skin around it is bruised a deep purple.

  “Did someone hit you? Do you need shelter? I can help.” Leave it to Kristie to jump on her soapbox the moment she sees a woman with a black eye. If Kristie’s not trying to save the world, something is very, very wrong.

  Linda waves away Kristie’s concerns. “It’s fine. Well, it’s not fine. It hurts like crazy, but no one hit me.”

  Kristie approaches and places a hand on Linda’s shoulder. “Are you sure? We’re alone here. There’s no reason to cover up for anyone.”

  Linda chuckles and leans away forcing Kristie to drop her hand. “Seriously. I’m not lying. I’m the biggest klutz in the world. I was in the back pulling a box of brochures down and the dang thing fell on me. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt myself worse. Those boxes weigh a ton.”

  Kristie tilts her head and studies her for a long moment before finally nodding. “Do you have a restroom I can use?”

  Linda points her towards the back. Once Kristie is out of view, she concentrates on Callie. “Now, where were we?”

  “My honeymoon,” Callie nearly shouts.

  I roll my eyes. “You need to get married before you can have a honeymoon,” I whisper to her.

  She wiggles her hand to show off her diamond Tiffany engagement ring. “I am getting married.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Callie and Linda discuss various options for a honeymoon in Hawaii while I fantasize about my honeymoon. I have about a gazillion questions for the travel agent, but I can’t ask any of them without revealing the true reason we walked in here today.

  I’m about to pull out my phone and start researching the best patisseries in Paris – because a trip to Europe for a baker has to include patisseries in Paris – when Kristie returns from the restroom and Callie stands.

  “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” Linda hands Callie a pile of brochures before escorting us out the door.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I ask Kristie once we’re outside. “You were in the restroom an awfully long time.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “I wasn’t in the restroom. I was snooping.”

  Oh, I rub my hands together. “Good plan. What did you find out?”

  “Nothing. There’s a restroom and storage room in the back. No secret passages or locked doors. I went through the boxes in the storage room to make sure they were full of brochures. They were.”

  “Not surprising since we know why Logan was here yesterday after all,” Callie says.

  A smile breaks out on my face. “I’m going to Europe!” I’m going to eat Swiss chocolate in Switzerland. And Belgian chocolate in Belgium. This trip is going to be better than my red velvet cupcakes. And those cupcakes are the bomb.

  “Since we know Logan wasn’t here to investigate Linda, I’ll call Ben and let him know Logan’s alibi. He’ll be out of jail before dinner time.”

  I hesitate. “I’m not sure.”

  At my words, Kristie and Callie halt and swivel to stare at me. I tilt my head and my eyelashes flutter of their own accord. Unfortunately, Kristie’s not buying my innocent act.

  “What are you up to?” Kristie crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down. “You nearly took my head off when I said we shouldn’t investigate and now you don’t want to give the information to the police. What’s going on?”

  “Maybe if Logan stays in jail a little while longer, we can investigate the murder without anyone being the wiser.”

  “Too late, my pixie girl.”

  I startle at the sound of Logan’s voice behind me. I slowly rotate around to face him. “How did you know where we were?”

  He shakes his phone at me. Oh yeah, the stupid stalker app. “Is that any way to greet your man after he’s been released from the slammer?”

  I rush him and jump into his arms. “You booked us a honeymoon! To Europe, to all the famous bakeries!”

  “Of course, I did. Anything for you.”

  I smack kisses all over his face. He allows this for approximately two point five seconds before grabbing my jaw with one hand, tilting my head to the right, and plastering his mouth to mine. We get to enjoy each other’s lips for like a second before Callie is clearing her throat.

  “Come on, you two. Let’s get out of here before you get arrested for indecency.”

  “Hey!” I shout after her. “We’re still dressed.”

  “You can be indecent with your clothes on.”

  I roll my eyes at her and return my attention to Logan. Logan who is free and not stuck in a stupid cell in a dank basement. Thank the blessed goddess of cupcakes. He’s free.

  Chapter 5

  You want to know how to rile up a pixie? Threaten her man.

  I’m dragging the next morning. Between celebrating Logan’s freedom and the awesome honeymoon he planned for us, I didn’t get to sleep until late. When you’re a baker and have to get up at 4 a.m. to create deliciousness, going to sleep any later than 10 p.m. is a killer. Even the smell of chocolate is not energizing me today.

  “Anna,” Callie whispers in my ear.

  I squeal as I jump and twirl around. The piping bag I’m holding continues to dispense vanilla buttercream frosting until Callie’s shirt is completely doused in sugary goodness.

  “Great. I’m going to have to change,” she complains as she dips her finger in the frosting before licking it. “Yummy. Vanilla?”

  I nod. “Serves you right for sneaking up on me.” Although considering my sleepy state, she could have been clucking like the chicken mascot from the fast-food restaurant down the street and I wouldn’t have heard her.

  “Whatever. We need to talk.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Come on. We need to get this done before I open the café,” Kristie shouts from the doorway between the kitchen and café.

  Double uh-oh.

  “What’s going on?”

  Callie takes the piping bag from me and sets it on the stainless steel table before she grabs my elbow and starts dragging me. “Let’s sit down.”

  This can’t be good. Don’t tell me Logan’s back in jail! I left him sleeping soundly in our bed. Did the police raid our apartment and nab him? That’s it! No more discounts for the men in blue. They are dead to me. I’ve worked myself up into a right tizzy by the time we sit at a table.

  “We need to talk about Logan,” Callie opens.

  “I knew it!” I shout and jump to my feet. “He’s in jail again. I have lost all faith in the city’s police force. All faith.” Callie clears her throat. “Except for Ben, of course.”

  “He’s not in jail,” Kristie says. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Is he or is he not in jail?” Are they trying to drive me insane? Because it’s working.

  “Sit down,” Callie demands. She doesn’t wait for me to follow orders, though. She grabs my wrist and yanks until I’m seated. “Logan is not in jail.”

  I wrinkle my brow. “Then, why are we talking about Logan? Has something else happened? Oh no, he’s in the hospital. We need to go.”

  Before I can jump to my feet again, Callie places her hand on my shoulder to keep me in place. “Will you listen to me for a second before you
end up going on a wild goose chase?” I nod, although wild goose chases are right up my alley. “I need to tell you something I overhead from Ben.”

  When she pauses, I nearly jump out of my skin. “For the love of butter, tell me!”

  “Logan was pulled in for questioning yesterday because of something he said.”

  She takes a deep breath but doesn’t elaborate. If she doesn’t get on with her story, I’m going to cut off her cupcake supply. Seriously, she won’t be getting any chocolate goodness from me anymore.

  “Explain,” I demand.

  “Apparently, Alastor Drake threatened to go after you.”

  I wait, but she doesn’t have anything more to say. “Seriously? That’s it? This is stupid. Logan is a detective in the gang squad. A gang banger threatening to go after his family isn’t exactly a surprise.”

  Kristie raises her hand. “Can I just say how happy I am Tyler is a fireman and not a police officer.” No one acknowledges her comment. As if being a fireman isn’t a dangerous job or something.

  “But this is different,” Callie keeps pushing.

  “Different how?”

  “Logan told Drake if he went after you, he’d kill him.”

  Why are they making a big honking deal out of Logan threatening someone? Have they never watched a cop show before? Cops threaten criminals. It’s practically a job requirement. “This doesn’t prove anything, and you know it. You can’t tell me Ben has never threatened someone.”

  “Yeah, well, Ben didn’t come home with bruises on his knuckles the day a gangbanger he threatened was killed.”

  Probably because Ben is mild-mannered. My man on the other hand? Not so much. Logan spent years undercover in a gang. He had to be tough to survive. “Also not the first time he’s come home with bruises.”

  “I repeat. I’m glad Tyler is a fireman.”

  Callie ignores Kristie’s comment and plows forth. “You can’t deny Logan would do absolutely anything for you. He would never let you get hurt.”

  No, I can’t deny Logan is extremely protective of me. To the point of murdering someone else, though? Yeah, no. I find that hard to believe. And even if I could believe he would go to such extremes, he would never get caught. He’s way too smart. And sneaky. We are talking about the man who planned an entire honeymoon for me without my knowing the first thing about it.

  “This entire conversation is a waste of time. We were literally at Logan’s alibi yesterday.”

  Kristie clears her throat. “There’s no way he sat at the travel agent for the entire three hours during which Alastor Drake could have been killed.”

  I frown at her. What is she playing at? “It’s a big trip. I’m sure it took forever to book. We were there for more than a half-hour yesterday and we only discussed one destination. Our honeymoon includes several countries.”

  “Can you see Logan sitting in a chair for three hours, though?” Callie asks.

  I transfer my glare to her. I wish they were sitting closer. Then, I could glare at both of my supposed friends at the same time. “He has no problem sitting still for hours to watch movies.”

  “Yeah.” Kristie nods. “Because he’s got the woman he loves wrapped around him.”

  I don’t respond. While it’s true Logan isn’t a man who likes to sit still for very long, he can be patient. How else did he survive being undercover for such a long time? Plus, a big part of being a detective is going out on stake-outs.

  I know from personal experience stake-outs consist of a bunch of sitting around hoping for something to happen. Although Logan doesn’t call them stake-outs. No, he gets annoyed when I use the word. It’s surveillance, according to him. Like a big fancy word makes it less boring or something.

  “You know what this means?” I announce when everyone falls quiet.

  “Uh-oh,” Callie says. “I know where this is going, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  I’m sure my smile is evil as I announce, “We’re going to have to solve this murder to prove to you guys Logan is innocent.”

  Callie groans and Kristie tells her, “You’re the one who was convinced Logan was involved in the murder.”

  “If I say I believe Logan is innocent, will you let it go?”

  As if. I was already planning on looking into the murder before these two bozos decided Logan could have been involved. No, I don’t think Logan’s guilty. But I don’t want there to be any shadow of doubt clouding my upcoming marriage. Nope. Better to solve the murder and clear Logan completely before we say our ‘I do’s’.

  Chapter 6

  Even pink-haired pixies wear black to funerals.

  When Kristie walks into the kitchen after closing up the bakery the next day, I throw her some clothes. “Here, put these on.”

  She stares at the black pants and black t-shirt in confusion. “Um… what’s going on? Are we going to a goth party?”

  “I wish,” Callie grumbles as she walks out of her office after changing into the clothes I brought her. “Apparently, we’re going to a funeral.” She frowns at me. “You couldn’t have gotten me a bigger size?” She pulls on the t-shirt in a futile effort to stretch the material.

  I roll my eyes. “You look hot. Stop fiddling.”

  Kristie has no interest in Callie’s insecurity about her looks. “A funeral? Whose funeral?”

  I merely raise an eyebrow at Kristie’s question. Give her a second, she’ll figure it out.

  “We are not going to a gangbangers funeral! It’s too dangerous. Trust me, I know.” And she would know. The Youth Center she funds and helps run is not only in the scary part of town, but it’s also filled to the rafters with troubled kids she’s not always successful in keeping out of gangs.

  Luckily for Callie’s Cakes, she needed extra cash while studying for her social worker degree. But now she’s graduated and on her way to being a board-certified social worker. As soon as those test results come in, we’ll lose her as she’ll be working full-time at the Youth Center. I’m already dreading it. I’m going to miss her coffee-obsessed face.

  “We’re not going, going to the funeral.”

  “Explain yourself, Batgirl.” I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. Batgirl rocks. I’m totally Batgirl.

  “We know Drake is being laid to rest at the cemetery over by West Town. It’s the wide-open cemetery with the park next to it. The park which is… drum roll, please… filled with trees.”

  When Kristie merely stares at me in response, Callie fills her in. “She wants to hide in the trees at the park.”

  “What good is hiding in the trees going to do us?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” I take the binoculars I bought yesterday from my bag and with a flourish, I show them my ace in the hole. “Ta-da! With these, we can see everyone who attends the burial.” No one’s impressed with my purchase. Their loss. “Come on, get changed. No time to stand around here with your mouths hanging open.”

  When we arrive at the cemetery less than thirty minutes later, I can’t help smiling at how awesome my genius plan is working. Yes, there are tons of scary dudes at the burial spot, but we’re practically hidden in the trees at the park. No one will notice us. Perfect!

  I grab onto the lowest branch of the tree we’re standing next to and start pulling myself up. “Oh no, you don’t.” Kristie wraps her arms around my waist and yanks me down. “It’s bad enough we’re standing in a grove of trees dressed like Catwoman. I am not climbing a tree.”

  “Did you know historically groves were considered sacred in pagan, pre-Christian German cultures?”

  I giggle at Callie’s sprouting of useless trivia, something she’s prone to do when she’s nervous. I think it’s safe to say Kristie and I not only didn’t know groves were sacred nor do we care.

  “Well, I didn’t bring any chairs,” I point out. Note to self: bring chairs the next time I decide to crash a gangbanger’s outdoor funeral.

  Kristie rolls her eyes before plopping on the ground. “Come on.”
She pats the ground next to her. “I’ve got a seat for you right here.”

  I guess beggars can’t be choosers. I sit down next to Kristie and Callie joins us. “Now what?” she asks.

  “Now, we wait.” I open my bag and pull out a sack of chocolate chip cookies I made this morning. “Shoot. I forget to grab drinks.”

  “This isn’t a party,” Kristie hisses.