Chocolate Covered Murder Part 22
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Chapter Twenty-one.
The police had set up a temporary crisis management headquarters in a trailer in the parking lot outside the chocolate factory, and that's where Lucy was taken to be debriefed. Brian Sullivan, the negotiator with the warm voice, interviewed her, and she was surprised to find he was short, slight, and balding, a complete contrast to the mental picture she'd built based on his voice.
"I just want to go over the video with you," he said. "We had a very sensitive listening device, but it didn't pick up everything and I need you to fill in the blanks."
He pointed to a video monitor and when the snow cleared she saw a grainy picture of the office, shot through the windows. Meacham was a shadowy figure, never seen in full as he remained partially hidden behind the file cabinet. She, on the other hand, was front and center, handcuffed to the chair. It was an unsettling image.
An audio technician arrived and was soon able to match his recording with the video and Lucy was able to see and hear the worst hour of her life all over again. It went excruciatingly slowly, however, because the process was halted frequently so Lucy could supply missing sc.r.a.ps of dialogue. She tried her best to be accurate, but oftentimes the technician would determine that her memory didn't match the fragments of sound on the tape and she'd have to try all over again. She was completely exhausted when they finally said she could go.
She wasn't sure how she was going to get home and was trying to decide if she could manage to drive herself when the door opened and Bill arrived. She rushed into his arms and he held her tightly, smoothing her hair and covering her face with kisses, and that's when she burst into hysterical tears.
"It's all over, you're safe, you're safe," he said.
"I know," she blubbered, unable to stop sobbing.
"The cops said you were amazing, really cool, did everything right."
"I want to go home," she finally said, wiping her eyes with her hands.
Bill gave her one of his big white handkerchiefs and just seeing it and holding it made her start crying all over again. "I love you," she said, sputtering.
He gave her a big squeeze. "You can show me later. But for now, you owe me a meat loaf dinner."
"Okay," she said, letting him take her hand and lead her out into the night.
On Monday morning Ted was already at his desk when she arrived. "How are you?" he asked.
"Kind of shaky," she said.
The door opened and Phyllis came in, wrapped in a colorful poncho with matching hand-knitted hat and gloves. She was carrying a big bouquet of flowers. "These are for you," she said, engulfing Lucy in a multicolored hug.
It was all too much for Lucy, and the tears began flowing again.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, the story of the year and my ace reporter is too emotional to tell it," muttered Ted, as the bell on the door jangled furiously and Frankie blew in, all in a dither.
"The story of the year-that's what I've got for you!" she exclaimed, waving a sheaf of papers in her gloved hand.
"We've got it. Lucy was there when Trey committed suicide."
"Trey? Suicide?" Frankie was puzzled.
"Haven't you heard?" asked Ted.
"Renee and I spent yesterday chez ma mere; she lives in Portsmouth. Why? What happened?"
"It's a long story," said Lucy. "What's your news?"
Frankie couldn't wait to tell them. "It's the Faircloths. They're gone!"
"But I thought they were buying the McIntyre place," said Lucy.
"Yeah, so did I." Frankie waved the papers. "I've got a purchase and sales agreement right here, but when I went over to the Salt Aire to get them to sign it, the desk clerk told me they'd left sometime in the night without paying their bill. It's over five thousand dollars."
Lucy wasn't sure she'd heard right. "They skipped out on their bill?"
"Yeah. When housekeeping went in this morning, they were gone-and they even took the bathrobes!" Frankie paused. "But they did leave a twenty for the maid, along with a note thanking her for excellent service."
"Cla.s.sy," said Ted.
"Not really," muttered Frankie. "I devoted every waking moment to those people and now I'm out a hefty commission. I was counting on that money."
"They seemed so nice," said Lucy. "I saw them dancing Sat.u.r.day night at the ball and they made a lovely couple."
"Seemed is the operative word here," said Phyllis.
"You said it," agreed Frankie. "It turns out they're a pair of scam artists. They've been doing this for months, maybe years. They lost their house to foreclosure so they've been moving around to inns and B&Bs, living it up in the style to which they're accustomed and leaving a trail of unpaid bills. The clerk at the Salt Aire said they got an e-mail from the innkeeper's a.s.sociation just this morning, warning about them. They left a big bill at the Queen Vic, too."
Ted was reaching for the phone. "I'm calling the printery," he said. "I think we're going to need some extra pages this week."
Lucy was nodding. "And people say nothing happens here in the winter!"
Punxsutawney Phil had predicted six more weeks of winter on Groundhog Day and for once he seemed to be right. March roared in like a lion, but this particular lion turned out to be a p.u.s.s.ycat, bringing bright suns.h.i.+ne and warm temperatures. When Elizabeth came home for a long weekend before starting her next a.s.signment at the brand new Cavendish Hotel on Cape Cod, the snow was gone and buds were swelling on the forsythia bushes. Lucy had cut some branches a week or so earlier and they were already in bloom, a yellow explosion on the dining room sideboard.
Lucy was putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on her table, laying out the silver serving spoons, and the scent of cooking turkey was heavy in the air. A series of sharp barks from Libby announced the arrival of her dinner guests, Marge and Barney Culpepper and their son, Eddie.
"It's like Thanksgiving," declared Zoe, when they were all sitting at the table.
"We have a lot to be thankful for," said Lucy.
"You can say that again," said Barney, with a nod to Eddie.
He was fresh out of rehab and looked great, thought Lucy. He was letting his military brush cut grow in and the slightly longer, curly hair softened his appearance. He smiled often, paying special attention to Elizabeth. Lily, he said in answer to Lucy's pointed inquiry, was away in Switzerland, apprenticing with a master chocolatier.
Elizabeth seemed to be enjoying herself, which was a big change from her returns home during college breaks, when she complained about there being nothing to do and couldn't wait to get back to Boston. Now that she was working and fending for herself she had a new appreciation for home, where Mom took care of the cooking and cleaning and even did her laundry.
When they'd polished off the shrimp c.o.c.ktail and turkey with stuffing and gravy and all the fixings-Bill's payment for fixing the door at the Pennysaver-Lucy suggested moving into the living room for coffee. Sara and Zoe were delegated to clear the table and load the dishwasher; Elizabeth and Eddie went off together to hear a local band and catch up with high school friends at the Irish pub down by the harbor.
"Eddie looks terrific," said Lucy, pouring a cup of decaf for Marge.
Bill lit the fire he had laid earlier. When he was satisfied that it had caught, he produced a bottle of brandy and, receiving a nod from Barney, poured two gla.s.ses. "What's his legal situation?" he asked.
Barney took the snifter and raised it to the light, admiring the golden liquid, then took a sip. "Mmmm," he said. "Well, he took my advice for once and agreed to cooperate with the DA. He got a good deal, no jail time, probation for a year with random drug and alcohol tests, and of course rehab. You never know, but it looks like he's staying clean."
"He's thinking about going to college," said Marge, holding her saucer with one hand and lifting the cup with the other. "He's looking into physical therapy. Maybe because of the guys he knew who got wounded. He says he wants to help people."
"I guess he already has," said Lucy, sitting down on the couch with her coffee. "He's named some of the dealers Meacham was supplying The drug task force is finally making real progress." She paused. "I didn't realize that they'd been working on making a case against Meacham for months."
Barney nodded. "n.o.body did. Those guys work undercover, way undercover. Even Horowitz didn't know what they were doing. He was convinced Dora was the killer, and there was a lot of circ.u.mstantial evidence. But when Graves showed up with his story about Tamzin discovering the drugs, he contacted the task force and they set up the raid." He took a sip of brandy. "Meacham had quite an operation, bringing the stuff in from Mexico with the cocoa beans and using the factory to distribute it. It turned out that Chanticleer Chocolate's most popular flavors were heroin and OxyContin, along with pot, c.o.ke, and ecstasy. He had something for everyone, whatever their preference and budget."
"Who knew?" mused Marge, biting into a cookie. "He seemed so nice. I never would have guessed. And the scope-I couldn't believe the amount of drugs they found in his warehouse."
Lucy nodded, remembering the photo Ted ran in the Pennysaver showing huge bottles of pills and hundreds of plastic bags of marijuana and cocaine, laid out so they completely covered the big conference table at the police station. "Ted said Trey was going to be the Chamber of Commerce's Businessman of the Year."
"Some businessman," snorted Bill. "It was all a big lie."
"What's happening to all his drug customers?" asked Lucy. "They can't all be in rehab."
"They've found other dealers," said Barney, draining his gla.s.s. "Or they steal. There was a pharmacy break-in last night, over in Gilead."
Lucy shook her head. "What's the solution? How do we stop this?"
Barney set his empty gla.s.s on the mantel and stood studying the flames dancing in the fireplace. "I wish I knew," he said. "I wish I knew."
ISBN: 978-0-7582-7819-7.
Books by Leslie Meier.
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Chocolate Covered Murder Part 22
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Chocolate Covered Murder Part 22 summary
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