Chocolate Crunch Murder (9 page)

“We know we have to save Jung from unlawful incarceration,” Heather replied. “And, well, that Randy didn’t trust his grandmother. I think he hated her. And she could walk. She can walk, I mean.”

“What?!” Amy asked.

“Yeah, Lilly got her on a recording. She can walk,” Heather said, then shook her head. “And I had her forward the evidence to Ryan, and everything.”

Amy sucked her bottom lip. “I’m worried, Heather. A part of me is freaked out about this. What if Jung did do it?”

“Amy!”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t considered that option, yet. I know you’re a good investigator. You check all the leads out. You use all the puzzle pieces.” Amy unclipped her seat belt and turned to face her bestie. “But what if he did? Ryan wouldn’t arrest him for nothing.”

Heather broke eye contact with Amy and stared up at the building instead. The metal staircase beckoned through the dusk. Evening had fallen quickly, the purple hue of post-sunset had hazed to gray.

Lamppost clicked on along the street.

“Maybe we should leave this one to Ryan. Trust him, you know?”

“No,” Heather replied. “Not about the trusting thing. I do. But something doesn’t make sense here. Facts are gnawing at the back of my mind, and I need to figure out why.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something about this building that keeps drawing me back here. I don’t know what it is. I just, ugh. Let’s go up and talk to her. Maybe we can weasel a confession out of the old bat and be done with it,” Heather said.

She clunked her car door open, then got out. The warm evening embraced her in its dusky arms, wrapping her in the scents of the city. Trees, exhaust fumes, the smells of cooking from a hundred different flats and restaurants. And something else.

“Ew, what’s that smell?” Amy asked, bumping the door to the passenger’s side closed with her hip. “That’s gross.”

“I don’t know, but it smells like, garbage?”

“Poop. It smells like poop.” Amy grabbed a fistful of her blouse and blocked her nose and mouth with it. “Can we go upstairs now?”

Heather led the way to the staircase, then hurried up it, her open sandals clanging on the grated metal. She halted on Mama Morton’s metal ‘porch’ then knocked on the old woman’s door.

“Who’s there?!” Morton screeched. “I’m armed and not afraid to use it.”

“Armed?” Amy asked, lifting two fingers and forming a cross to ward off the presence of evil.

Heather batter her fingers down. “Beware of flying cups,” she said.

“Who are you?”

“Mrs. Morton? It’s Heather. I visited you a few days ago?” She tapped her sandaled feet on the metal, tapping out a rhythm instead of humming a tune, this time.

The rasp of those five or ten locks broke Miriam’s silence. The door swung inward, and her face appeared at waist-height again. “What do you want?” She asked, pursing her wrinkled lips. “And who’s that?”

“Well, hello there,” Amy said. “I would shake your hand but I’m terrified for my wellbeing, so I’ll have to pass on that opportunity.”

The quip whizzed over Miriam Morton’s head. “I don’t have anything to talk to you about. You’re the one who snooped around in my apartment.”

“I didn’t snoop. I left after you fell asleep,” Heather replied, coolly.

“You didn’t make me my tea,” Miriam replied.

“You didn’t need me to.” Heather folded her arms and dug her fingers into the fabric of her summery shirt. “I know you can walk, Mrs. Morton. I have the evidence to prove it. If you’ve got a confession to make, now would be a good time.”

Amy fumbled her cell out of her pocket and lifted it to make a recording.

“What did you just say?” Mama Morton asked, spittle dropping from her lips.

“I said, I know you can walk, and it’s time for you to confess anything you need to confess. My husband is an officer of the law –”

“I don’t care who your husband is,” the elderly woman shrieked at the top of her lungs. “Get away from my home.”

“Mrs. Morton,” Heather began.

“I’ll teach you a lesson,” Mama Morton said, then turned around and wheeled out of sight.

“I bet she’s going to get a cup,” Amy whispered. “We’d better get out of here before she launches it at us.”

“Like a rocket launch.”

“Except with less fire and more coffee. Throw in a black eye. Let’s go,” Amy said.

Heather hesitated, she stepped toward the door, burning for an answer and a means to set her best friend free.

“Heather,” Amy hissed and grabbed her arm. She dragged her back toward the stairs. “It’s no use. We’ve got to go.”

“But Jung needs –”

Amy grabbed Heather by the shoulders and stared her in the eyes. “I know. I know, and it sucks, but we’re not going to get anything more out of Mama Morton.”

“Ready or not, here I come,” the old woman yelled. Her squeaky wheels rattled down the hall.

“Fine,” Heather said, at last. “Fine.” And a leaden weight of defeat settled across her shoulders.

The first mystery she hadn’t been able to solve was the case that’d see her assistant put behind bars.

Heather’s vision blurred. Amy helped her down the stairs.

Heather stood at the bottom of the metal staircase, staring at her car. Amy stood beside her, her arm looped around her shoulders.

“It’s okay, girl, you can’t win them all,” Amy said.

“You can. I can. And I will. I just have to figure it out. I have to save him before it’s too late,” Heather replied.

Amy shrugged. She didn’t believe there was a thing they could do, and that sent prickles up and down Heather’s spine.

“Let’s go back to Donut Delights,” Amy said. “We can have a cup of coffee and think this through. There will be a way to get Jung free. I guarantee it. I’ll call Kent, too. He’ll represent him pro bono. I just know it.”

“Thanks,” Heather said, but the word was ash on her lips. Jung didn’t need representation. He was innocent!

They trudged toward the car, heads bowed. Heather stopped and pulled Amy back with her. “Do you hear that?” She asked, then pointed to the alley beside the Randy’s Burger Bar.

“What?”

“Listen,” Heather whispered.

Scratching and then a dull thump. A door creaked open.

The women exchanged a glance. Heather walked to the entrance of the alley and peered into the gloom, pulse beating a pattern against her throat.

“This is creepy,” Amy said, into her ear. She lifted her phone and switched on the flashlight app.

The darkness disappeared. Muddy puddles replaced it, along with dirty marks on the wall and…

“No,” Heather whispered. She pressed a fist to her mouth to stop herself from gagging.

“It’s not real,” Amy said, “It can’t be happening. Only in nightmares. The stuff of nightmares.” She thumbed another button on her phone and brought up her camera app. She pressed the big red circle to record.

Heather pressed her eyes shut, but she couldn’t block out the scratching and the squeaks. Shrill, evil little squeaks. Her skin crawled, goosebumps popped up on her arms then flattened again.

It was the most disgusted she’d ever been in her life.

She opened her eyes, but the rats were still there.

Hundreds of them. Their fat, mottled gray bodies squished between the walls of the alley, running toward the other end, nipping at each other, squeaking and sniffing.

“It is real,” Heather said.

Amy cleared her throat. “Where are they going?”

Puzzle pieces clicked together in Heather’s mind, audible snaps which jolted her through to the bottom of her soul.

“The burger bar storage room. They’re going there.” Heather shook her head.

“What, why? I don’t understand.”

“These aren’t vermin,” Heather whispered, balling her hands into fists then releasing them again. “They’re pets.”

“Please don’t be serious.”

“We have to follow them,” Heather said.

“How did I know you would say that?” Amy groaned. “That’s it. I’m never coming on one of your sleuthing expeditions again. I quit.”

“You’re recording all your very unheroic whining, Ames,” Heather replied.

The tail-end of the rat group petered off and disappeared around the corner. Heather set off after them, and Amy’s fingers found hers in the dark. She squeezed and her bestie squeezed back.

They crept toward the corner, one toe at a time. The squeaks and scratches continued from within the building. Heather stopped at the back of the building and peered around the wall.

The door to the burger bar’s storage room stood ajar. A man stood just inside, hunched slightly, his long, dirty beard brushing against the top button of his coat.

“Hammond,” Heather whispered. “Oh gosh.”

“The weird guy? The weird guy is the rat guy. Just like Bob the Bug Debunker said. This is like a fairytale. The Pied Piper –”

Hammond turned toward the door and the women ducked back, breathing hard.

“You see, darlings,” he grunted. “Nobody can hurt you now. That bad man tried to have you killed and look what happened. He’s dead. I exterminated him.”

Heather’s gaze darted to Amy’s phone. She’d switched off her flashlight app, but the camera was open, recording Hammond’s evil rhetoric.

“That exterminator guy is next. I know what he’s been up to, cruising around near our home. Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you, my lovelies.”

Amy gagged. Heather poked her in the ribs, then pressed a finger to her lips.

She leaned in close to Amy’s ear and whispered, “We can’t let him leave the room. We can’t let him see us, either.”

Amy nodded, an incremental bob of her head.

“We have to lock him in.”

Amy shook her head this time, vehemently.

“We have to. Then call Ryan. Save the video.” Heather hissed each word, breathless.

This was the worst, most far-fetched murder case she’d had the displeasure of investigating. No wonder they’d been unable to figure it out. Feeding pet rats, protecting them, wasn’t a motivation any sane man of the law would look into.

Another of Hillside’s crazies on the loose. Unbelievable.

Heather shuddered.

“I’m going for it,” Heather whispered.

Amy tried to grab at her, but Heather shook her free.

She darted around the corner and sprinted to the door.

Hammond looked up at the commotion, a frown wrinkling his pallid forehead. “Hey! Stop right there!”

Heather grabbed the door handle and slammed the door shut. “Shoot, I can’t lock it from the outside, Ames. Call Ryan! Now!”

“I’m not good under pressure,” Amy whimpered, but she dialed hurriedly.

Heather counted the beeps of her number pad. Hammond banged on the inside of the door.

“Let me out!” He yelled. “You’ll pay for this, you horrible witch. You’ll pay! Don’t you dare try to hurt my babies. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill anyone who comes near them.”

Heather blocked out the noise and focused all her strength on holding the door shut.

Hammond grabbed the door handle and turned it. Heather held fast. “Hurry, Amy. He’s going to get out!”

Amy hung up the phone. “Ryan’s on the way. He said he’s just around the corner. He was on his way to speak to Mrs. Morton because of the new evidence about the life insurance policy.”

A siren wailed close by. Lights flashed. Tires screeched to a halt.

And in no time, Ryan Shepherd arrived, and it was all over.

“By far the creepiest man I’ve ever put in cuffs,” Ryan said, raising his milkshake in a mock salute. “This is a strange toast to that. And the hour’s pest control had to put into dealing with those rats.” He slurped choc shake through the straw, then smacked his lips and turned to Heather. “I couldn’t have done it without you, as usual.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Heather replied, and winked at him. She loved the praise, but it’d been a close call there.

She’d been so convinced that it was grumpy grandma behind it all, that she’d missed a couple of obvious signs.

Like the constant reappearance of exterminators and rats. Even if Lilly’s video, for heaven’s sake.

Heather got up and walked to the array of donuts spread across three Donut Delights wrought iron tables.

The early afternoon had heated up the front of the store, but the air conditioning kept the party guests cool as could be.

Heather clinked her dessert spoon against the side of her thick, milkshake glass. “Attention, everyone.”

The chatter died down. All eyes turned to her. Eva straightened and leaned forward to hear her better. Lilly stopped chewing, though she didn’t drop her donut. And Amy paused her incessant coffee making, Kent standing by her side, holding a steel cup of frothed milk

“We’ve been having a lot of parties lately, which is fun, but this one is to celebrate two things.” Heather held up two fingers.