Buttercream Betrayal (Cupcake Catering Mystery Series Book 5) by Kim Davis

Author:Kim Davis [Davis, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cinnamon & Sugar Press
Published: 2022-09-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Nathan looked a bit green, and he swallowed convulsively, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down each time. I thought his eyes were watering, but he quickly put on mirrored sunglasses so I couldn’t be certain that was what I’d seen.

Lanky rested his forearm on the hood of the car and bent over to peer into the back seat. “Ladies, we’ve decided that due to the condition of the warehouse and the time it’s going to take to comb through it for evidence, we’ll take a quick statement now. Otherwise, you’d probably be here for hours waiting on us. Since Nathan vouches for you, it’s good enough for me. We’ll coordinate a time to meet with you tomorrow to go over it in depth if you’ll promise to work within our time frame.”

Tillie and I both promised, although I hoped the time wouldn’t be terribly inconvenient. “Where would you like for us to meet tomorrow?”

“We’ll come to your residence if that works for you,” Lanky said.

“Perfect. Emory will have cupcakes and coffee ready for your visit.” Tillie practically bounced in her seat. She loved being in the thick of investigations.

“I won’t say no to a little hospitality.” Lanky licked his lips, but Nathan looked as if he still had trouble with his stomach and didn’t say a word.

“All right then, Ms. Martinez, if you’ll step onto the porch, we’ll ask you a few questions.” Lanky opened the car door and ushered me to a cluster of battered plastic chairs. They were caked with dust, so I opted to stand, as did both detectives.

The few questions turned into many, and an hour had flown by before they gave us leave to go. Since Tillie and Andrew hadn’t arrived on the scene before I’d discovered Shawn, nor had they entered the warehouse, they were given a pass for immediate questioning. Lanky did note down the time I’d called 911 and called Tillie to tell her I’d found the victim. It had been 3:07, and it was now 5:20. No wonder I felt drained.

After providing our cell phone numbers and addresses, we were finally on our way home… straight into rush hour traffic. I sent a text to Vannie letting her know we’d be home around six thirty or so, depending on the state of the freeways. She said she’d have pizza and salads waiting for us.

“Andrew, would you mind finding a gas station or fast-food place to stop at? I’m in desperate need of restroom facilities.” I also wanted to scrub my hands and face in an effort to rid myself of the lingering—most likely imaginary—stench from the warehouse.

“Of course. I should have thought of it before we got onto the freeway. My apologies.”

“No worries. I can wait awhile.” I held my hand up to Tillie’s face. “Do I stink?”

She sniffed. “No, dear. You smell like Christmas tree hand sanitizer.”

I leaned back into the buttery-soft leather seat. “Oh, good. But if I do, you’d better drive with the windows down. I’d hate to ruin your car.

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