Christmas Cupcakes and a Caper Page 4

  Allison bites her lip and stares at her feet. “Tanya was the one who heard the rumors, not me.”

  Tanya huffs. “You agreed with me.” Her friend continues to find her feet fascinating as she refuses to respond.

  Kristie directs her question at Tanya, “What have you heard?”

  Tanya wrinkles her nose. “Apparently he would take drunken women to his room during frat parties and not all the women were willing.”

  “Do you have any names of women who this happened to? Maybe someone we can talk to?”

  “Why don’t you ask at his fraternity? They’re bound to know more than we do.”

  Not a bad idea, although in my experience frat brothers will stick together until the bitter end. “Which fraternity was he in?” I ask.

  “Lambda Kappa Pi.”

  “Can’t you let this go?” Tanya asks. “Donald was a jerk. No one liked him. He’s dead now. End of story.”

  My eyebrows raise. Without thinking about it, my lecture voice turns itself on. “Donald may have been a jerk, but he was a human being and no human deserves to be suffocated to death and left out in the cold like trash.”

  Kristie steps forward. “There’s more to it than Donald’s murder.” Anna growls but everyone ignores her. “It’s also about those women who have been abused. We need to make sure they get help.” I grab her hand and squeeze.

  Allison blushes and drops her head to stare at the desk. Tanya nods. “Okay. We’ll ask around. Maybe someone can give us a name or something. Can we go now?” She doesn’t wait for a response before standing and pulling her friend to her feet.

  I watch as they march out of the room. I can’t deny I’m disappointed. I had hoped the girls would be able to give us some names of girls who had been abused – allegedly abused. Anna’s all fired up to solve the murder, but I’m worried about what’s happening on campus again or should I say still? I’m not sure I want my daughters to go to college if this is what they have to contend with. Whoa. Where did that thought come from? Ben and I haven’t discussed our future, let alone having children.

  Chapter 7

  Dear Santa, I didn’t know I couldn’t do that.

  My feet are dragging as I shuffle out of my office at the bakery. Between the Christmas rush at the bakery and the end of the semester at college, I’m exhausted. Mix in a murder my business partner thinks it’s her responsibility to solve and I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in over a week. I stop when I see Anna bouncing into the kitchen.

  “I’m dressed like a co-ed!” she announces.

  “You know the term co-ed now means a female student at a co-educational institution, but the word originally referred to an educational institute that taught males and females together. I—”

  She cuts me off with a raised hand. “No geek speak at Christmas.” She twirls around. “What do you think of my outfit?”

  I scratch my head. I’ve never seen a college student dressed quite like her. She’s wearing a denim jumpsuit with ripped knees over a Christmas sweater covered in snowflakes and elves. And to top it all off? Her is hair is in pigtails. Pigtails.

  Kristie walks in and saves me from commenting on Anna’s outfit. “Oh for coffee’s sake, what’s going on here?”

  “We’re going to the frat house!”

  “We’re what?” I shout at Anna.

  She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Like you’re not dying to go talk to those frat boys.”

  “I don’t think visiting a frat house is going to help. It’s not like any of the frat brothers will rat out Donald,” I say the words, which have been on repeat since we talked to Allison and Tanya. And like the other two-thousand times I’ve said them, Anna ignores me.

  “But I have the best idea! I’ll be Don’s sister.”

  “How do you even know Don has a sister?” Kristie asks.

  “I don’t. But I bet those frat boys don’t either. And you two can be my escorts.” She twirls her foot and bites her bottom lip. “Because little ‘ol me can’t go in the big, scary frat house all by herself.” For good measure, she flutters her eyelashes.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “And what does Logan think of this idea?”

  She snickers. “He loved the outfit.”

  I hold up my hand. “Stop. I don’t need to hear anymore.” I look at Kristie who shrugs. I sigh. “Fine, let’s go.”

  The Lambda Kappa Pi frat house is a few minutes walk from the bakery. After talking to Tanya and Allison, I couldn’t help myself from looking up everything I could about the fraternity, which is how I know exactly where the frat house is located. The cold wind whips at us as we trudge through a light smattering of snow towards the house.

  “I need a cup of coffee. A hot cup of coffee,” Kristie mutters.

  I snicker. “You always need a cup of coffee.”

  “Here it is!” Anna exclaims as she bounces on her toes.

  The frat house looks exactly like you expect a frat house to look. The exterior is brick with white trim. The gable proudly displays the Greek letters of the fraternity. Greek Ionic columns line the front porch, which are currently decorated for Christmas with garland wrapped under them.

  Anna starts marching up the walkway before anyone can stop her. “I hope someone’s here. Although if they’re not, maybe we can snoop in his room.” She rubs her hands. “Oh, now there’s a good idea.”

  I groan and Kristie’s eyes widen. Nothing and no one can stop Anna once she’s on a mission. Not even a door. She doesn’t bother knocking but walks right in the house. “Hello!” she shouts. When no one answers, she smiles. “Come on, the bedrooms are probably upstairs.” She bounds up the stairs without a backward glance. Kristie and I chase after her.

  By the time we catch up to her, she’s already on the third door. “Nope, not his room.”

  “How can you tell?” I whisper. She points to the names on the doors. “But why are you opening all the doors, then?”

  “I’m curious.”

  “She’s going to get us killed,” Kristie points out. “You do realize this?” I don’t disagree. I can’t.

  “Yes! Here it is.” Anna walks into a bedroom and we’re quick to follow. The room is an absolute mess. There are clothes strewn everywhere. And the smell! Sweaty socks and sour body odor. Yuck!

  “Why hasn’t his family come to clean this up yet?” Kristie mumbles behind the hand covering her mouth and face. “I’ll be in the hallway to make sure no one sees us.” She practically runs out of the room.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll know it when I see it.” Not exactly helpful or reassuring words.

  While she digs through the closet, I go to the desk and rifle around the books and papers. Textbooks and notebooks are thrown haphazardly on top of a laptop. I have no idea what I’m looking for. It’s not like I’m going to find a slip of paper announcing ‘I did it! I killed him!’.

  “Someone’s coming.” Kristie rushes in and then twirls in circles as if looking for somewhere to hide.

  Anna doesn’t have the same problem. She dives on the bed and crawls under the covers. Before I have a chance to yell at her, a boy walks into the room. “What are you doing in my room?”

  “Oh sorry. I was under the impression this was Donald Griffin’s room.”

  The student nods. “Don and I were roommates. Since he’s gone, it’s my room.”

  Makes sense. I step forward and extend my hand. “Hi, I’m Professor Muller. Don’s sister wanted to come and see where he lived on campus.”

  “I’m Greg,” he says as he shakes my hand while staring at Kristie. “No way are you Donald’s sister. His sister was younger than him.”

  Kristie’s eyes widen. “No, this is my teaching assistant. She’s friends with the sister, …” I trail off to avoid telling yet another lie. I hate lying. I especially hate lying on the campus where I teach. This stupid stunt better not cause me problems. I’ve had enough problems with the administrators at this
university for the rest of my life, thank you very much.

  “Where’s the sister?”

  “I’m right here.” Anna pops out of the bed.

  “What are you….” he starts to ask, but then his eyes see how Anna’s dressed and he shrugs. “Whatever. Don’t take anything with you,” he orders and pivots to walk out.

  “Hold up!” I shout. “Can you tell us anything about Don? Why would anyone want to kill him?”

  Greg snorts. “Dude was a bully.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he grunts. “Pretend I didn’t say that.” Without another word, he strolls out the room.

  “Do I look old?” Kristie asks as soon as he’s out of hearing range.

  I ignore Kristie to hiss at Anna, “Why did you hide in the bed? You’re supposed to be the whole reason we’re here!”

  “I panicked.”

  “We’re out of here.” I grab Anna’s hand and start dragging her out of the room. Kristie follows behind us still muttering about not being old.

  Once we’re a block away from the house, I slow down and release Anna. “Well, that was a waste of time.”

  “Nope!” With a flourish, Anna produces a flyer for a frat party.

  “We are not going to a frat party.”

  “Duh.” She waves the piece of paper in my face. “Look at the date.”

  I gasp when the connection hits me. “The night Donald died.”

  “Yep.” Anna’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “Someone at the party obviously killed him.”

  “Oh great,” mutters Kristie. “That’s only a few hundred people who are suspects then.”

  “But why didn’t the guys tell us there was a frat party the night of the murder?” Anna pouts. “Like, duh, super big clue.”

  “Your man is in the gang squad. He probably doesn’t know all the details of an open homicide investigation.” And as for my man? The actual homicide detective? No answer there.

  Anna and Kristie discuss how to find out who was at the party as we walk back to the bakery. I ignore them. I’m too busy trying to figure out what in the world is going on with Ben. I’ve hardly seen the man the past week. Which is not normal. Sure, we both work long hours, but usually, he makes an effort to spend time with me every day – whether it’s getting up early to have breakfast together before I start work at the bakery or taking a long lunch – we always spend time together. But not lately. Something is totally up with him. Or us. My stomach dips and not in the good way.

  Chapter 8

  Dear Santa, We’re doing the best we can.

  The moment I walk out of my office and see Kristie and Anna staring at a laptop together, I pause. I debate turning around and going to hide in my office because nothing good ever comes from those two working together. Nothing. But I’m curious, too.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be baking?”

  “Relax, nerd,” Anna responds without looking up from whatever has her fascinated on the computer screen. “Every oven is in use. Not much I can do right now except wait for my awesome cupcakes to bake into deliciousness.”

  “I love how modest you are.” When Anna doesn’t bother to respond to a dig on her baking prowess, I know trouble is brewing. “What are you looking at?”

  Kristie slams the lid of the laptop closed. “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, sure, you’re blushing because it’s ‘nothing’.” Anna hums and stares at the wall behind me as if it were fascinating. “Okay, give it up, what’s going on?”

  With a sigh, Kristie opens the laptop and points the screen towards me. I lean forward, but all I see are pictures. I squint and look closer. It looks like people having a party. “What am I looking at?”

  “The frat party Don attended the night he was murdered.”

  It’s been two days since we went to Lambda Kappa Pi and snooped around Don’s room. I should have known better than to think either Anna or Kristie would let the subject of Don’s murder drop. Although in Kristie’s case, she’s more worried about Don’s victims.

  “Have you discovered anything?”

  “Not really.” Kristie grunts. “Apparently I know hardly anyone at campus. This one,” she points to Anna, “recognizes more people than I do.”

  Anna beams. “What can I say? Students love my cupcakes.”

  “Yeah, ‘cuz it’s the not the free Wi-Fi that keeps them coming back,” Kristie mutters.

  Anna growls. “Are you saying my cupcakes aren’t total awesomesauce?”

  “Ladies!” I shout. “Enough.” Once they stop glaring at each other and nod at me, I continue. “Why does recognizing people who attended the party matter?”

  “We need to find the last person who saw Don alive. That’s the first thing police always do.”

  “He was last seen at a frat party. I’m sure the police have already interviewed everyone who was there. By now, they’ve probably talked to nearly everyone on campus.” My unsaid message is clear – let the police handle this. They have the manpower and resources. We do not.

  “Has Ben said anything about the investigation?” Anna asks.

  I feel my cheeks heat up. Ben and I haven’t spent much time together since Don’s murder. I have no idea what cases he’s even working on. I do know he didn’t catch Don’s murder as it would have been a conflict of interest seeing as the body was dumped in front of his girlfriend’s café.

  The back door bangs open and in strolls Ben. I smile and start to walk to him, but he tilts his head to indicate the two men who are on his heels. My brow wrinkles. “What’s going on?”

  “The detectives want to ask you some questions about Donald Griffin.”

  “But I already gave my statement.”

  Ben opens his mouth to respond, but the man behind him speaks before he has a chance. “Detective Evers, we’ll take it from here.” My man nods, but his jaw stiffens and a vein in his neck throbs. He crosses his arms over his chest and moves to lean against the wall next to the back door. He may agree to keep his mouth shut, but he’s not leaving.

  I decide to act like an adult and ask, “How can I help you?”

  “I’m Detective Flanigan and this here is Detective O’Hare.” I nod and motion for them to proceed. “We need to ask you some questions about the morning you found Donald Griffin.”

  “Ask away.”

  Detective Flanigan’s eyes move through the room and stop briefly on Anna and Kristie. “Can we do this somewhere private?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “We need to get the café open and finish this morning’s baking.”

  A timer dings and I nearly smile. I couldn’t have planned that better if I tried. The detective grunts before beginning his thousand questions. “How did you know the victim?”

  “He was a student in my Introduction to World Literature class.”

  “What can you tell us about him?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and lean on the table behind me. “There’s nothing more to tell.” No way am I telling them anything we’ve learned since Don’s death. “He was one student in a class of over one hundred students.”

  “What kind of student was he?”

  I shrug. “I’d have to review my grade reports to answer you.” I act like I didn’t run to check the grades for the class as soon as Don’s body was found.

  “Can you do that?”

  “Sure. I’ll email you the information.”

  He hands me his business card. The other detective leans forward to ask, “You can’t tell us anything else about him? Did he ever skip class? Was he always on time?”

  “I don’t keep attendance in the larger classes,” I explain. “I think he sat in the back of the room, but I really don’t remember much about him.”

  Detective O’Hare’s eyes narrow at me as if he knows I’m lying. I’m not lying. Not exactly. I don’t remember much about Don. I have, however, learned some stuff about him since his death. Stuff I didn’t learn from being his professor, which means I feel free to not tell him anything else.

/>   Fortunately, Detective Flanigan begins questioning Kristie before I start to sweat under O’Hare’s beady gaze. “You must be Ms. Larson. You run the Youth Center where Donald had an internship.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t run the Youth Center. I fund it.”

  The detective is undeterred. “Well, as the funding source, I’m sure you know which students are working there.”