Revenge Is Sweet Page 9

  “I guess I should tell the cops what she told me about Gene and her.”

  “And I should tell them that she’s been stealing money from me.”

  Tally lay awake for a long time that night. In the deep silence, she could hear the steady ticking of her grandmother’s clock from the living room. It helped her to bring her thoughts down to solid ground. She didn’t want to talk to the detective about Mart, but felt she had to. She knew she should fire her, and didn’t want to do that either. What would Mart do when she did that? Would she go after Tally next?

  Chapter 9

  Saturday dawned late, delayed by black storm clouds sweeping in with chilly showers from the west. Tally drove to work to keep herself dry, her windshield wipers chunk-chunk-chunking on high the whole way. She ran in the back door from her parking space behind the shop, the wind whipping her hair, her clothes, and her umbrella, which almost turned inside out.

  Andrea was already there. She had to have come in the front door of the shop, since the back was locked, and Tally had to use her keys when she arrived. Andrea’s mother’s car was in the back, too, so she must have had to walk around. Andrea had a key to the front door, but not to the back one. “It’s a gully washer today, isn’t it?” Andrea said.

  “It is. Texas rains come down hard.”

  “But they don’t last long.”

  “I don’t remember having this much rain in July,” Tally said.

  “We don’t usually. You’re right.” Andrea grabbed a tray of candies from the kitchen fridge and went to the front to put them into the display case.

  Tally fiddled around in the kitchen, agonizing over facing Mart when she came in. Andrea had left a backpack on the floor, and Tally moved it next to the bathroom so she wouldn’t trip over it.

  She was afraid she was going to have to fire Mart. The shop wasn’t due to open for fifteen or twenty minutes yet. She called out to Andrea that she was going to dash to Yolanda’s place, then she picked up her dripping umbrella and ran out the back and through the storm again.

  The wind wasn’t as fierce as it had been moments before, and the rain was already letting up. Tally hoped it would stop completely and the sun would dry up the puddles. The shop would do better business without rain, she was sure.

  Kevin from Bear Mountain was in the alley dumping plastic bags in his trash bin. “Hey, are you doing okay? You and Yolanda?” He dashed over to meet her behind Bella’s Baskets.

  “We’re holding up, I guess. It’s hard, though. The police need to find out who killed Gene, then we’ll all rest easier.”

  “It looks like they’ve questioned everyone who has shops on both sides of the street. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks, Kevin.”

  “Tell Yolanda hi.”

  “I will.”

  She rapped on Yolanda’s back door and pushed it open. Yolanda looked up from the basket she was finishing with a bright red, shiny bow. It only clashed slightly with her pink and purple sleeveless dress. The garnets she wore were on the small side for Yolanda-jewelry.

  “Flashy,” Tally said. “What’s that one for?”

  “A four-year-old’s birthday party.”

  “A basket for a four-year-old? I wouldn’t think they’d be interested in that sort of thing.” Tally looked closer and saw that it was full of doll clothes. “Is there a doll in there somewhere?”

  Yolanda laughed. “Yes, buried underneath the clothing. Her parents wanted to present it this way. This little girl’s favorite color is red.”

  “That’s a refreshing change from pink.” Tally shook the drips off her umbrella and propped it beside the back door.

  “Aren’t you about to open?” Yolanda asked. “Do you need something?”

  “Boy, do I.” Tally slumped, her elbows on the counter where Yolanda worked, and dropped her chin into her hands. “Advice again. On an employee again.”

  “Is it still not working out with Andrea?”

  “Not Andrea this time. Mart.”

  Yolanda snipped off the last of the excess shiny red plastic and started wrapping the basket in cellophane. “Yeah, I thought she was dating Cole, but I saw Cole with someone else.”

  “Dorella?”

  “I think that was her name. So if Cole is two-timing Mart—”

  “No, nothing like that. They’ve broken up. But she did take Cole for a ride, got a bunch of money out of him. And the worst part is that she admitted she’s been stealing from my till in the shop.” Tally drummed her nails on the counter in annoyance. “Taking the money that I have to use to pay her. That’s not smart, when you think about it.”

  “Oh no! What are you going to do?”

  “I kind of hoped you’d tell me what to do.” Tally told her that Mart had gotten the money from Cole for an abortion for a baby that might or might not have been Gene’s. She said Gene was going to marry her, but had decided not to at the last minute. Then it turned out she wasn’t pregnant at all. She’d lied. “Or so she says. There’s no way to verify anything with Gene dead.”

  Yolanda’s mouth fell open. “So…she killed Gene?”

  “I have no idea. Well, it might be possible. I don’t even know if she’s telling Cole the truth. She probably is, because I’m sure she’s the thief in my place. Why else would she say that? But what should I do? Tell the police that she’s a crook? Cole is going to tell the detective about her taking money from him and what she says about Gene. He told me that I should report what I know to the detective, too.”

  “He’s right. You should. Why wouldn’t you?” Yolanda went to her front door to unlock it and flipped her sign to Open.

  “I know. I should. I’m honestly a bit afraid of antagonizing her. If she’s a killer, why wouldn’t she kill me?”

  “Because you didn’t get her pregnant—or not pregnant—and leave her at the altar?” Yolanda grinned, but Tally didn’t see the humor.

  Tally met Allen coming in as she went out the back door. He gave her a huge smile, and she cheered up a bit.

  “You look great today,” he said.

  She didn’t think she did, but it was nice of him to say it. “Thanks.” He, on the other hand, did look pretty great.

  “I finally got the part,” he called out to Yolanda. To Tally he explained, “She wanted another shelf for her cooler.”

  Tally basked in the glow of Allen’s handsome smile for a moment, then left.

  She trudged slowly toward her place, feeling that gravity had suddenly increased, barely noticing that the rain had stopped. It would be eleven o’clock soon, which meant that Mart would be at work. Too soon.

  * * * *

  “Oh good, I need that,” Yolanda said, holding out her hands for the large box Allen held. It was damp from him taking it through the rain from the hardware store to his truck, and to Bella’s Baskets. He’d gotten wet, too. He shook droplets from his hair and ran a hand through it, tousling his thin, straight strands.

  “I’ll put it into the cooler,” he said. He busied himself opening the box and extracting the metal shelf from the packing while Yolanda shifted plants around to accommodate the extra shelf.

  “I have a lot of small things that will fit on this new shelf.” She set some larger plant containers on the countertop.

  “Let me get this heavy thing.” Allen reached for one that was still in the way. He picked up the container, then froze, bent over with his head inside the flower cooler. She heard him suck his breath in sharply.

  “Are you all right?” Yolanda asked. Maybe he had hurt his back bending over and lifting like that.

  “I…I’m okay. But…” He shoved the vase back into the corner and straightened.

  “What? What is it?” Yolanda tried to see what was behind it.

  “Don’t touch anything.” He whipped out his cell phone but, before he could dial
, Detective Rogers came in the front door. “You! I was just calling you,” Allen said.

  Yolanda swiveled her head back and forth between the two men. “What’s going on? Allen, what’s in my cooler?”

  “Yes, what’s in the cooler?” the detective asked.

  Allen addressed him. “I guess you should come see this, Detective Rogers.”

  Yolanda felt cold fingers running up her spine.

  * * * *

  Tally cheered up and hummed to herself while she walked back to Olde Tyme Sweets. She had, of course, noticed before how good-looking Allen Wendt was, but in an objective, non-personal way. With that high-beam smile he’d given her, it had become a bit more personal. His hands were strong, but they looked gentle, too. He never seemed angry or upset, always cheerful and…friendly? More than friendly? She floated through her back door, an inch and a half off the floor, and called out for Andrea.

  “I’m back,” she sang, and started for the front.

  Rounding the island counter in the center of the room, she paused. An odd odor, almost putrid, was coming from the bathroom at the side of the room. She would check it out, but first she needed to see how Andrea was doing.

  Her employee had opened the store a half hour ago, and with the sun now beaming down on Fredericksburg, people were flocking in. Tally smiled at the thought of the profits they would make today—if Mart didn’t steal them. She vowed to keep an eye on her after she came in. Tonight, she would decide about telling the detective about Mart.

  “How’s Yolanda?” Andrea asked as Tally entered the salesroom.

  She realized Andrea thought Tally had been soothing Yolanda, other than the other way round.

  “She’s doing great.”

  “Oh, sorry. With the way you dashed out of here in the rain, I thought she might need something.”

  “I had a quick question for her.” Tally tied on a smock and walked up to a pair of middle-aged women who were agonizing between Whoopie Pies and Mallomars.

  “Can you tell us a bit about these?” the taller one said. “They both look delicious, but we’ve never had either of them.”

  From the way the woman pronounced “about,” like “aboot,” Tally wondered if they were Canadian. She had had a high school teacher from Alberta who’d said that, and she had adored the teacher.

  “Sure.” Tally took a package of each off the shelf. “Mallomars are like a cross between a cake and a cookie on the inside. Covered with chocolate on the outside, of course, as you can see. They’re made with honey, brown sugar, some gelatin, and other things.” She held up the Whoopie Pies. “These are really sandwiches made with two chocolate cookies and a marshmallow sort of filling. Think of them as puffy, glorified Oreos.”

  They turned to each other, wide grins on their faces. The shorter one said, “It looks like we’ll have to take a package of each.” They took the boxes from Tally and trotted over to the counter to pay.

  Tally started toward another small knot of people hovering over the Twinkies, feeling her cell phone vibrate in her pocket on the way.

  She hiked up her smock and pulled it slightly out to glance at the caller—Yolanda. She waited on her customers, then got another text from Yolanda. Thinking she had better see what was going on, she pulled her phone all the way out of her pocket.

  When Tally and Yolanda had been in middle school together, before Yolanda went off to boarding school, they’d established some secret codes. They hadn’t known what ASAP stood for, but Yolanda’s father had often used it when he was referring to things that were urgent. So the two young girls had decided that would be their SOS code. The distress code letters jumped out at her: ASAP

  “Be right back,” she called to Andrea and ran into the kitchen to call Yolanda. No answer She texted her: What’s wrong?

  Yolanda texted within seconds: At police station. found weapon my place. being questioned. can u come.

  Tally’s hand went numb, and she almost dropped her phone.

  Chapter 10

  Once more, Tally left Andrea tending the store as she rushed out to her car in the alley. What must Andrea think? She couldn’t dwell on that, though. She had to see what was going on with Yolanda. Even with the unemotional nature of a text message, Yolanda’s distress had come through. Tally’s tires slipped, then caught hold and screeched on the wet pavement as she sped away.

  When Tally pushed through the door to the police station, she stopped to catch her breath. She had driven as fast as she could—the police station was located on the edge of town, and a tractor had lost a load of hay on Main Street and delayed her twenty minutes while the farmer and several motorists cleared the road.

  A severe-looking woman with thick glasses sat at a desk behind a window. She was the only person in sight, so Tally asked her where Yolanda Bella was.

  “Wait a moment. Let me look.” The woman tightened her lips, accentuating the wrinkles around them, and paged through some papers on her desk, then consulted her computer screen. “It says that she’s over at the jail right now.”

  “She’s in jail?” Tally screeched. “In jail? She can’t be. What for?” She knew her voice was too loud, too high-pitched. She had to calm down.

  The woman’s level, no-nonsense stare through the thick lenses quieted Tally. “She’s just in that building. Not in a cell, necessarily. Would you like me to find out if you can see her?”

  Tally hadn’t thought of the possibility that she wouldn’t even be able to see Yolanda. How could she find out what was going on?

  “I’ll call the detective,” the woman said.

  Within a few minutes Detective Rogers came into the lobby. He motioned Tally to a hard plastic chair and sat beside her.

  Tally immediately started babbling, her voice rising again. “I have to see Yolanda. Is she all right? What’s happening?”

  “Whoa, wait a minute, Ms. Holt.” He held up both palms. “Ms. Bella is fine. We need to ask her some questions. You won’t be able to see her until she’s released.”

  “When will that be? I can wait here.”

  “I wouldn’t suggest that. It might be some time.” His voice was quiet, but firm.

  “Well, what’s she being questioned about? You know she had nothing to do with Gene’s murder. Nothing.”

  “I can’t tell you any more, but I think you should go home and wait to hear from her.”

  “How long will it be? Are you going to grill her for hours and hours? All night? That’s what they do on TV shows when they’re trying to break someone.”

  “I don’t have any time estimates right now. Go home, Ms. Holt. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Tally sat straight up. “It certainly does. She’s my best friend. If she’s in trouble, I need to know.”

  “Give us some time. Go home.”

  “I have to go back to work,” she said, and got up and marched out before she could say something she might regret.

  When she got to the shop, she deflected Andrea’s questions about where she’d been and what she’d been doing with vague statements about Yolanda having some ordering problems at the store.

  “I need some help here since Mart didn’t come in,” Andrea said.

  “She didn’t come in? She should be here by now. I’ll call her.”

  “I did, but she didn’t answer.”

  Tally called her, too, but she didn’t get an answer either. She felt relieved that she wouldn’t have to confront Mart today.

  Shortly after two o’clock. Yolanda sent a cryptic text: Released going home.

  When, another hour later, Tally went to the shop kitchen to replenish the Whoopie Pies, the odor she had noticed earlier had gotten chokingly worse. Now she could tell it was coming from the employees’ restroom. She cracked open the door, started gagging, and slammed it shut. Trembling with fear, she opened it again and switched the light on.


  Now she knew why Mart wasn’t working.

  * * * *

  It was ten o’clock that night by the time the crime scene people finished up with Tally’s Olde Tyme Sweets shop. Mart’s body had been removed a few hours before that. Tally had called Cole and told him she was delayed, but didn’t tell him why. There would be time for that later, when she was more composed. After all, he’d been fairly close to her for a short time.

  The first thing Tally had done was dial 911. Then she went out front and told Andrea that they needed to close the shop.

  “What’s wrong?” Andrea’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Is something wrong?”

  Tally nodded. “Mart is…she’s in the bathroom.”

  “Is she sick?”

  “No, Andrea, she’s dead. It looks kind of like someone stabbed her with my candy thermometer.” It looked very much like that, since the temperature-gauge end of the instrument had been sticking out of her chest, the sharp end buried deep in it. It wouldn’t have been possible to trip and end up like that.

  “Oh no.” Andrea grabbed her backpack from the floor. “I feel sick. I’ll be right back.” She ran out to the alley and returned a few minutes later.

  * * * *

  The police arrived and took over the scene. It was a very long day, and nobody could leave the shop.

  Detective Rogers, who had stayed the whole time, came over to Tally and Andrea, who were huddled in the corner of the kitchen where they’d been for several hours after being told to stay put.

  “We have your preliminary statements, and we’re wrapping up here, so you’re free to go. We’ll want formal statements at the station tomorrow.”

  “I don’t suppose I can open the shop tomorrow,” Tally said.

  “Given that this is the second fatality on the premises, we’ll have to hold it closed for at least a day. You should be able to open Monday, though.”

  She had planned on being open on Sunday to take advantage of the increasingly busy tourist season, and to carry on business seven days a week for the rest of July and the first part of August. One Sunday missed wouldn’t be too bad. She hoped.