Crumbling deception, p.3
Crumbling Deception, page 3
“I know you didn’t kill Marco,” his gentle voice replies.
Relieved by his words, I go back to happily drinking my tea feeling it warm me from the inside. A few moments later, I straighten up in my seat.
“Wait, how are you so sure?”
“Because I’ve known you since you were a girl. The rest of the town only knows what you show them.”
I raise my nose up in the air, faking snootiness. “A baker with a short-temper?”
“A woman who tries too hard.”
His response instantly humbles me. I slump in my chair. To cheer me up, he leans forward to whisper conspiringly.
“And because I have an inside source at the precinct.”
“Really?” I perk up, “Who?”
“Sadie Williams.”
“The sunny detective?”
He grins at the nickname. “She is my granddaughter.”
The kind detective is Mr. Williams’s granddaughter. I wonder how and why I didn’t put it together earlier. As I’m thinking of putting it together, an idea strikes me with the force of a steam engine.
“Mr. Williams, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
4
Chapter 4
I’m leaving the room when my gaze falls on the mirror. A cream silk shirt tucked into a maroon pleated skirt over sheer tights and ankle boots. That’s my outfit for today. My hair is in a bun, bangs loose on my forehead. It’s more or less how I usually dress. Like they say; dress classy and be sassy.
A woman who tries too hard.
Walking back into my closet, I change my outfit and come back out.
The lavender cardigan (one of my favorites), jeans, and sneakers are a far cry from my previous outfit. I release my hair from the bun and leave it open in natural waves down my back.
“Not trying too hard now, am I?”
Loki slowly blinks at me from his position on the bed. I take that as a nod of approval from him and make my way to the kitchen.
Within thirty minutes, I’m at Mr. Williams’s house. I never knew he lived so close to my parents’ house. He has a porch full of colorful bird houses. Bathed in the cool sunlight, they look gorgeously vibrant. The door opens before I can knock.
“Hello there,” Mr. Williams greets me warmly like he didn’t just see me yesterday.
“You have a beautiful home,” I compliment him after we’re seated in the living room.
“My Edna would’ve been over the moon to hear that.”
“She was a sweet woman.”
“You remember her?”
I am surprised by his incredulity.
“Of course. She used to suggest good books to me over the summer break. And this one time I found a kitten in the street and we took him to the vet together. She told me about a hundred facts about cats. I think that’s the afternoon I really realized that I love them.”
His round nose is a light shade of red as he dabs at his eyes.
“Oh Lily,” he sniffs. “It means so much to me that she is a part of your good memories.”
I lean forward and squeeze his hand. “So are you.”
He adorably huffs and sniffles into his handkerchief.
“You’re very kind, child, kinder than this town deserves.”
His words prompt me to ask the question that has been on my mind since yesterday.
“Mr. Williams, why are you helping me?”
He nods like he expected me to ask.
“Hillgrove is a lovely place. I have seldom felt the need to leave it. However, the only times I have, it has been because of people who think that they can impose their opinions on other people just because they are part of the same community. Edna and I were both seventeen when she got pregnant. You can imagine better than most how people must have talked. We were slandered worse than a corrupt politician. We lost our baby because of the stress and anxiety it caused her. It took some time to collect ourselves, but we got married soon after. We had our first daughter the year after. Our son, Sadie’s father, two years after that. Only now, the town proclaimed us the picture-perfect happy couple. It made us so mad and we promised ourselves that we wouldn’t let them get the best of us again and would live our life according to our own terms. And we did.”
I have no words to put my feelings into. I had no idea about any of this.
“The reason why I agreed is because for some bizarre reason, you want the townspeople to actually like you.”
He shakes his head in disbelief when I smile. It’s the only thing I can do, knowing he wouldn’t understand the bizarre reason.
The bell rings. He stands and excuses himself, telling me to remain seated. But when he opens the door and I hear Sadie’s, Detective Williams’s, voice I shoot to my feet.
“Hey Gramps,” she hugs him.
“How are you, kiddo?”
I try to stay out of sight as long as I can, to give Mr. Williams time to explain my presence to her. However, being a detective, she spots me the minute she steps into his house.
“Miss Grayson,” her eyes widen in surprise but she keeps herself calm and collected.
I need to learn how to do that. Her hair is in a ponytail and she looks a lot younger in her casual attire than she does in her work clothes.
“Call me Lily, please.”
She looks at her grandfather, questioning him silently. He smiles innocently.
“Come in, come in,” he ushers her into the living room. “We’ll sit and have tea with the delicious cookies Lily brought.”
“Yes, tea,” she nods, then gestures to Mr. Williams towards the kitchen, “why don’t we both go and prepare it?”
He shakes his head. “I can ring Donald—”
“No, no, we can do it,” she links her arm with his and takes him to the kitchen.
She whispers to him as soon as they’re out of my line of sight. Though I can hear them clear enough through the thin walls.
“Grampa, do you have no regard for your safety? She could be a murderer!”
“How do you know?”
I smile at the old man taking a stand for me.
“Do I really have to remind you? She’s a suspect in the murder of Marco Sanchez.”
“So am I.”
“Gramps.”
“Sadie, just hear her out. She’s a good kid. You both have more in common than you know.”
The silence that stretches tells me that Mr. Williams has succeeded in convincing Sadie even before she speaks.
“One wrong move and she’s out.”
“Go sit, I’ll bring tea. She made almond and raisin cookies.”
“You’re evil.”
I pretend to look outside the window when she returns.
“See anything interesting?”
I turn to her slowly. “Just the rumors about and around me.”
Her eyebrow raises in surprise. She clearly wasn’t expecting me to jump straight into it.
“Miss Grayson, I don’t—”
“I only respond to Lily.”
Narrowing her eyes, she continues, “Lily, I don’t know what my grandfather said to you or why you’re here, but whatever it is, my answer is no.”
“He didn’t promise me anything. I asked him to help me meet you outside the precinct. That is all.”
“Why?”
I look at her crossed arms and take a deep breath.
“Because I want to help with the investigation.”
A beat of silence passes. She bursts out laughing. I blink at her. Another beat passes. She stops laughing.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
Her forehead knits together, “I don’t understand.”
I scoot forward in my seat, understanding that I have to sell it to her. Luckily, I’m good at that.
“My reputation is on the line here. I didn’t kill Marco. So, anyone who is actively investigating me, is wasting their time.” She opens her mouth to protest but I keep speaking, “I know my word amounts to absolutely nothing, but you can hook me to one of those lie detector machines and you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”
She holds up a hand, “There are multiple ways to outsmart those machines. I wouldn’t lead an investigation with that.”
“But that’s just the thing, you’re not leading an investigation, are you?”
I hold my breath and watch the color rise to her cheeks. Got her. She’s smart, but she’s also inexperienced. I have my flaws too. I just have learned to hide them well.
“This is the second time you have insulted me in the past minute,” she speaks through gritted teeth.
“I know how hard it is to survive a male-dominated line of work,” I push forward when she relaxes a little. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that this is a test that they might want you to fail. I don’t. I want you to be the one who arrests the murderer, not Detective Roberts or whatever his name is.”
“He’s actually the only one who treats me like an equal. So, I don’t really see how you can help me better than him.”
“I can be your eyes and ears on the ground. No offense, but people don’t really like talking to the police. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t.”
She snickers, “Trust me, I have.”
I huff and playfully roll my eyes. “It’s not my fault you guys have such a daunting environment.”
“Try going there for work every day,” she mutters.
“I’ll stick to my bakery. Thank you very much.”
Our conversation sparks something. I realize I could be friends with her. Coming from me, that’s a big realization. What’s more is that she’s looking at me with the same look on her face.
“I—”
“Do—”
We both start at the same time and share a laugh.
“I’m sorry. You go first,” I say.
She waves her hand noncommittally, “I have heard a lot about you over the years from Gramps. I know you’re a good person. But sometimes good people do bad things.”
“Bad things, yes. Murders, no.”
Her mouth tips up in a smile that she tries to smother. Just then, Mr. Williams returns with the tea. He winks at me when she isn’t looking, his way of telling me that he purposefully took so long to give us more time to talk. I mouth a ‘thank you’. Remembering the box of almond and raisin cookies I baked at his behest, I open it and place it on the table next to the tea.
“Here you go, Mr. Williams. I’m so sorry I had to remove them from the product list at the bakery. But no one bought it except you. I assume they’re your favorite?”
The two share a look, with Detective Williams mainly glaring at her grandfather.
“For me,” she speaks up, “he used to buy them for me.”
Mr. Williams is far too pleased with himself when he announces, “They’re her favorite, you see.”
He bribed his own granddaughter for me. I fold my lips inside to hold in the laugh. What is it about old people that is so endearing?
“I hope you enjoy the cookies Detective Williams,” I stand up, looking at the time.
“You’re not staying for tea?”
I smile at the dear old man, “I have tea with you every other day, Mr. Williams. Thank you for today. I’ll see you at the bookstore.”
“Alright honey. Take care now,”
“You too. Goodbye, Detective.”
I wave at them. Mr. Williams waves back while the detective sits with a cookie in hand, deep in thought. I walk out. It’s a lovely day. I look around as I amble slowly down the street, counting my steps. Come on, girl… Four houses down, right as I am about to turn the corner, I hear a door open and slam shut.
“Lily, wait!”
Yes! I turn around, not having to act surprised because honestly it was touch-and-go for a moment. She runs up to me and I meet her in the middle.
“Is everything okay, Detective Williams?”
She smirks, “I only respond to Sadie.”
And just like that, it’s the start of a potential friendship for me.
5
Chapter 5
I wake up with only one thing on my mind. Sadie had said that we need something solid, and I am more than determined to find it. If there is one person who I know is capable of physically hurting someone, it’s Cora. So, that’s exactly where I'm going to start.
Deciding to forgo my morning run for today, I take a while to myself. After a long bath, I spend an hour styling my wet hair. I usually wash it in the evenings so I don’t have to rush. It brushes my lower back and is a pain to manage, but I love my hair. When I’m done with the blowout and straightening my bangs, I put on a black turtleneck sweater and black satin skirt. One glance at the mirror shows me that it is the perfect outfit for laying low.
In any place except Hillgrove.
I sigh and change my clothes again. I come back wearing a forest green cable knit sweater with jeans. I leave it untucked like all the other women in town. A groan escapes me at the sight. My clothes are wearing me instead of the other way around. The only saving grace is my hair.
“Loki, I look like a potato sack, don’t I?”
He raises his head from where he’s lying in his bed at the sound of his name. Seeing that there’s no treats in my hands, he goes right back to sleep.
“Good talk, buddy.”
Eyeing the containers of all the batters I prepared last night, a longing for my car hits me. I sold it three months ago to pay Marco a sum enough for him to hold the other shop for me. The jeep wasn’t much but it was the first car I ever bought with my own savings. Knowing the containers wouldn’t fit on the bicycle, I walk out and make my way next door. Polly will surely lend me her car for the day. She is always happy to help because she rarely ever needs her Mini.
I don’t need to check my watch to know that she is done with watering her plants. Her garden is buzzing with life. She waters the flowers every morning and the vegetables every evening. The sound of the doorbell echoes outside as I press the round button.
“Coming!” she yells from somewhere inside the house.
I lean down to take a whiff of the jasmines planted close to her door. The cool, refreshing scent fills my lungs and puts a smile on my face. It stays there until the door opens just enough for Polly to jut her head out.
I awkwardly wave my hand in the air, “Uhh, hi.”
With her lips pressed thin, she just nods.
“Are you okay?” I ask, slightly alarmed by her distressed look.
She eases up just a bit but still doesn’t open the door. “Fine, fine. What’s up?”
My brows furrow at her weird demeanour.
“May I borrow your car for the morning? I need to drop some stuff off at the bakery.”
She loses the color in her face.
“Actually,” she begins after a moment of silence, catching speed with every word, “I have somewhere to be in a few minutes. So if you don’t mind.”
I stare at her for a second, wondering why she is being like this. She still hasn’t even opened her door. And now she’s lying. Why?
“Sure. Thanks anyway.”
I am walking down the pebble stone pathway through the garden when she calls out. I turn to face her. She is now standing outside her door, wringing her hands.
“Yes?”
“Did you—”
“Polly?” I prompt after she shakes her head.
“Did you really do it?”
I frown, trying to think about what she could be asking, but come up with nothing.
“I’m sorry. Do what?”
“Kill Marco,” she blurts out.
I almost stagger back in shock. That’s what all this was about? Is that what she thinks of me? Two years I’ve been her neighbour. We’ve had countless dinners together. I’d say she’s almost my friend. Well, I would have, before now.
Squaring my shoulders, I relax my tight jaw enough to speak.
“I don’t know. Did I?”
Leaving her shocked, I stride to my door and slam it behind me. Taking all my containers, I shove them, carefully, inside a travel bag. Then pick up my backpack and leave for the day.
The ride to the bakery is treacherous but I make it without the travel bag tipping over the bicycle or me with it. I stop in front of the back door and put the bag on the ground while I unlock the door.
I have barely seen Max in the last two days. He texted once, apologizing for his behaviour the other day. When I replied with different timings for us both, he didn’t reach out again. So many years of our friendship, and he still doesn’t know that I didn’t actually want space, I just wanted him to try harder. Whenever I hurt someone, I have trouble sleeping until I make it right. He just never cares.
Switching on the lights, I make haste to take out mold trays and pour the batter in them. If I hurry, I can save an hour of prep before opening time and use it for investigation instead. Once the trays are in the oven and the second batch is ready on the shelf, I take off. There is a stillness to the area this early in the morning. People have yet to sidle out of their houses for the day.
I cross the street and skip an alley before turning into the next one. The protective netting overlooks Cora’s nursery. I look for a way around it. If I can get into the nursery, I can surely get into her shop. Any sort of clue could push me in the right direction.
I notice a hole in the fence close to the ground. Made maybe by a cat or dog, most probably a dog judging by the size. Hands on hips, I suck in a breath as I look sideways. All clear. It’s now or never, Lils. I lean down and start to plank my way through the space, careful not to get my jeans dirty and have to explain it later on. The jagged wire snags onto my sweater.
“Crap,” I mutter as I back out of the hole.
There’s a tear in my sweater. I groan and take it off. I wore this to lay low, not to gain attention with gaping holes. Tying it around my waist, I try again. This time the fence scratches at my arms, but I persevere and get to the other side.
I am immediately hit by the smell of greenery; musty and sweet. My vision is blessed with flowers of different colours, blooms of different sizes, hanging vines creeping from wall to wall. It is an enchanting place. Far better and more advanced than Polly’s little garden. One I would’ve undeniably loved to spend lots of time in if it didn’t belong to my only nemesis.
