He found out Bonnie had some hardships in her own life. She used to live in a small neighborhood in Tennessee that was taken over by eminent domain for a shopping mall and surrounding office buildings. The house had been in her family for over one hundred years, and she was angry at everyone involved. She was hoping to win the contest to have enough money to move away and start over.

  “Bonnie Montgomery from Elton Tennessee!”

  “Darby! What? What did she win?” I asked hurriedly as I banged on his arm. “I wasn’t paying attention. What did she win?”

  “Second place,” he said. “That’s two pies in a row. I don’t feel good about this, Susan.”

  “No, no, this is good,” I said. “All of the other places don’t mean a thing. You don’t want second or third. You want first. Don’t give up now”

  I held onto his arm and let out a little squeal of excitement. I could feel it. He was going to win this.

  It was time for the announcement for first place in desserts. As the committee members stepped to the microphone, I saw several police officers enter through a side door. They were being led by Detective Malloy from Chicago homicide. He was the man in charge of Mrs. Fisher’s murder. What was he doing here?

  My attention was taken away from Detective Malloy by the announcement.

  “And the first place winner, with Grandmother’s Buttercream Coffee Cake, is Darby Tapley from Carbide City, Ohio!”

  We jumped up at the same time. I squealed, threw my arms around his neck, and gave him a big hug. I rushed with him to the front of the room, but I knelt down in front of the platform to take pictures of him accepting his ribbon and his check.

  I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold back a few as they slid down my cheeks. I was proud of him. He was my best friend, and I loved him as if he were my brother. His grandmother would be so proud of him.

  As he came down from the platform, the smile on his face said it all.

  “Darby Tapley,” Detective Malloy said with authority. He was now standing beside us.

  Darby turned to face him and said, “Yes, we met the other day.”

  “Darby Tapley, you’re under arrest for the murder of Penelope Fisher.”

  A collective gasp went up from the crowd.

  Chapter Seven

  A police officer put handcuffs on Darby. I couldn’t believe he didn’t say anything. He simply stood quietly with his arms behind his back.

  I unleashed on Detective Malloy. “What are you doing? You know full well we just arrived when Mrs. Fisher was found murdered. There’s no way Darby could have killed her. This is an illegal arrest!”

  “Susan Hunter,” the detective said firmly, “you’re coming with us, too. We have some questions for you.”

  “Susan Raines. My name is Susan Raines.” My throat had tightened, and the words barely came out.

  Darby was pushed ahead of me. He turned his head and called over his shoulder, “Susan, don’t call Mick or Nate. Call Detective Bentley. He’ll know what to do.” He couldn’t see me, but all I could do was nod my head as two officers took him in one direction with Detective Malloy, and I was escorted toward another door by two other officers.

  I felt like I was going to throw up. My stomach was in knots, and my chest was tight. This couldn’t be good for the baby. Tears ran down my cheeks. Bonnie, Craig, and a woman who I assumed was Bonnie’s sister, were standing off to the side of the room together. They all looked shocked.

  The officers allowed me to get my coat. Darby had run our personal items from the cooking contest out to the car earlier, so they were safe, and I didn’t have to worry about them. The only items being left behind at the hotel were Darby’s first place blue ribbon and an oversized $10,000 check.

  On the ride to the police station, I kept telling myself this had to be a mistake. Wes was the one who had treated Darby suspiciously, and that was only because Uncle Jack had told Darby so much about Mrs. Fisher. But there was something wrong with the entire picture back at the hotel. Why didn’t Darby argue? Why didn’t he proclaim his innocence? I knew he couldn’t have committed the murder, so why didn’t he defend himself? And now he wanted me to call Detective Bentley with the Carbide City Police Department back home.

  I didn’t know if I would be allowed to have my purse at the police station. I rummaged through it to find my small address book with phone numbers. It was outdated to carry an address book, but I was always afraid of being in trouble somewhere with a dead phone and no way to look up numbers.

  I tore out the page with Detective Bentley’s personal and business numbers and shoved it into my coat pocket. I looked through my wallet, found the slip of paper with Mick’s number in England, and shoved it into the pocket, too. Darby didn’t want me to call Mick, and I could only assume he didn’t want me to upset him when there was nothing he could do so far from home, but I didn’t think leaving Mick out of something this horrible was a good idea.

  At the police station, I was ushered into a well-lit room with a table and several upholstered chairs. It wasn’t like an interrogation room on television. This room felt more like a small waiting room. I removed my coat and draped it over the back of one of the chairs. I sat down at the table and pulled my phone from my purse. The signal was weak, but I had to try to call Detective Bentley.

  Chuck Bentley always made me nervous. He had a strange sense of humor, which bordered on being a smart aleck. He and Mick had become good friends, and I was trying to be more comfortable around him, but it was still hard for me to call him Chuck.

  Considering it was after work hours in Ohio, I dialed his personal number first.

  He answered on the first ring, “Bentley.”

  I struggled to get my words out. Tears were near the surface again. “Chuck? This is Susan Raines.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Susan Hunter,” I said, thinking maybe he couldn’t place me right away.

  “I know who you are, Susan,” he said. I swear, I could hear the smile in his voice, and knew he was already teasing me. “What can I do for you? Are you in trouble again?”

  There was the smart aleck. He didn’t even know what I wanted, and he assumed I was in trouble.

  “Chuck,” I said again, and then I had to stop talking. The tears were coming now.

  “Susan,” he said sharply. “Really, are you in trouble? What’s wrong? Is Mick with you?”

  I managed to get control of my voice, “Mick is in England and Darby and I are in Chicago at the police station and we came here for a cooking contest and the lady across the hall from us was murdered and they think we’re involved and now there’s a murder charge and …” I stopped talking to take a breath, and my phone went dead. I hadn’t plugged it in since we left Ohio, and it went dead. I didn’t even have a chance to ask Chuck to come help us. A wave of despair and hopelessness washed over me. I put my head down on my arm on the table and let the tears flow.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Susan Raines?”

  I lifted my head from the table. My mouth felt dry. I had gone to sleep with my head on my arm. I was stunned. How could I sleep when Darby was being charged with murder? I looked around the room; nothing had changed. My stomach churned, and I had to go to the bathroom. I looked at my watch. It was 10:30. I couldn’t believe I had been in the room for two hours. It felt like two minutes. Maybe I was dreaming, and Chris De Floss and his zombies would come through the door any minute now, and I would wake up.

  “Yes,” I said to the officer.

  “Detective Malloy will be a while yet before he can get here to talk with you,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I need to use the restroom,” I said. “And some water, too, please.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Just wait a few more minutes, and I’ll send someone to take you.” He left and closed the door behind him.

  I sat numb in my chair. No one was here to help us, and I wasn’t sure what to do. They hadn’t arrested me, and I needed to find a lawyer for Darby. A public defender for a murder charge wasn’t a good idea.

  A few minutes later, a female officer came into the room and escorted me down the hall to the restroom. “What’s taking Detective Malloy so long to come talk to me?” I asked.

  “He’s at another precinct with Mr. Tapley,” she said. “Processing takes time, and questioning can involve several people. He shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Her demeanor was kind, and she was polite, but I also knew that was the end of the conversation. When she escorted me back to the waiting room, there were two bottles of water on the table. I drank one right away.

  It was 10:45, and I couldn’t sit in the chair any longer. I started pacing the room. My brain started whirring. What was going to happen tonight? How would I get back to the hotel to get the car? But Darby had the keys, so I wouldn’t be able to get the car. Would I be able to go back to the condo, or would they hold me here until morning?

  It was 11:50 when Detective Malloy finally came into the room. He sat down at the table and said, “Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Mrs. Raines.”

  Mrs. Raines. Things were getting very formal now. This couldn’t be good. I sat down across from him at the table. My mouth was suddenly dry again, and I was grateful for the extra bottle of water.

  “Do you know why Mr. Tapley was arrested this evening?” he asked.

  I took a drink from my bottle before saying, “You said he was arrested for murdering Mrs. Fisher.” I raised my voice, “And you know full well he didn’t kill her. There wasn’t any time at all for him to murder her.”

  “Actually, Mrs. Raines, there was,” he said. “The time of death coincides perfectly with the time of your arrival and your subsequent entering of Jack Tapley’s condo.”

  “That isn’t grounds to charge someone with murder,” I said.

  “Were you with him at all times after arriving?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Every single minute? You never took your eyes off of him for a second?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said with a firm nod of my head.

  “Did you go into a bedroom to change your clothes?” he asked. “Did you use the bathroom? Did you go into another room to make a phone call?”

  “No. Maybe,” I said. “I think I went to the bathroom while Darby was checking out the kitchen.”

  “How long were you in the bathroom?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The normal amount of time to go to the bathroom, and I washed my face and hands.” My heart sank as I said, “I brushed my hair and touched up my makeup.”

  “So, it was at least five minutes and could have even been ten minutes?” he asked.

  I lowered my eyes and said softly, “Yes.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know, Mrs. Raines,” he said as he stood from his chair. “You’re free to go.”

  “Where am I supposed to go?” I asked. I felt lost and confused. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that they were building a murder case against Darby, and they were going to use me to make it stick.

  “You can go wherever you want to for now,” he said. “Mr. Tapley will be arraigned Monday morning, and I assume you’ll want to be here for that.”

  “I don’t even know where I am,” I said. “How am I supposed to get back to the condo?”

  “There’s someone in the lobby for you,” he said. “You can ask them.”

  He strode out of the room. I felt sick. I put my coat on and picked up my purse. The same female officer from before came into the room. She gave me a sympathetic smile and said, “I’ll show you the way out, Mrs. Raines.”

  I felt like I was shuffling along behind her. It took all of my energy to pick up my feet and walk. I was exhausted.

  She pushed the door to the lobby open and simply nodded a good-bye. Or was it a dismissal? I walked into the lobby, but no one was there. Detective Malloy said someone would help me. I sat down in a chair to wait.

  A few moments later, Detective Bentley entered the lobby from a hallway on the other side of the room. The sight of him released everything I had been holding back. Tears came quickly, and I was soon crying uncontrollably as I stood and walked toward him. He walked faster toward me and put his arms around me. I sobbed into his chest for several minutes before I could find my voice and say simply, “Thank you.”

  “Come on, Susan,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here. Do you know the address where you’re staying?”

  I shook my head no. “It’s down the road from Ditka’s Restaurant on East Chestnut,” I said. “If we can get there, I can find the condo.”

  “Ok,” he said. “Do you have a hat? Gloves? It’s like a blizzard out there, so bundle up.”

  I had a scarf my mother had knitted for me and a pair of gloves in my coat pocket. I put them on.

  It was a miracle we were able to get a cab. The weather had deteriorated, and visibility was only a few feet at best. Traffic was light, but the roads were icy, and it took nearly an hour for the cab driver to reach the condo. The detective and I didn’t speak on the way over. He didn’t initiate any conversation, and I supposed it wasn’t a good idea to talk about a murder in front of a cab driver anyway. I was grateful for the quiet time. I needed to set aside my discomfort with him and view him as a friend and someone who could help us now.

  Terry wasn’t on duty at the condo, but the night doorman, Benny, braved the blizzard and ran out to open the cab door for us and take the detective’s bag.

  Inside the building, Andy was standing behind the reception counter. He smiled when he saw me, and I introduced Detective Bentley to him.

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” Andy said. He looked at me and asked, “Where’s Darby? Did you guys win today?”

  I didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to start crying again, so I said quickly, “He’ll be back later, and yes, he did win first place for his cake.” I smiled at Andy, but my heart wasn’t in it. “Come on, Chuck. This way,” I said to the detective as I led him to the elevator.

  Inside the condo, I turned on the lights and walked down into the living room. I tossed my coat onto the coffee table and flopped into the chair. Chuck set his bag down on the landing and followed me. He sat down on the sofa.

  “Susan, it’s late,” he said. “We can talk in the morning, but what can you tell me right now about all of this? I wasn’t able to get any information from anyone. I had to go to three police stations before I found you.”

  “The lady across the hall was murdered at about the same time we arrived,” I said. “She was a good friend of Darby’s Uncle Jack. This is his condo, and he’s letting us use it while he’s out of the country. For some reason, they’re trying to build a case against Darby. They think he went over there and murdered her while I was in the bathroom. It’s preposterous and makes no sense at all. It’s like on television when they pick someone to charge, because they don’t have any other leads. They want to throw someone in jail so they can all think they’ve done their jobs, and the mayor and the public are satisfied.”

  He looked at me with a slightly humorous look and said, “It isn’t like that, Susan. They must have something else. Do you have any idea who the lead detective is on the case?”

  “I’m assuming it’s Detective Malloy,” I said. “He was here to talk with us right after the murder happened. He’s the one who arrested Darby, and he questioned me tonight before they let me see you at the police station. I don’t know where they’re holding him. A female officer said he was at another station.”

  He gave me a sympathetic look and said, “Why don’t you go ahead and go to bed? I’ll see what I can find out tomorrow, and then we’ll go from there.”

  I nodded my head and stood up from my chair. It dawned on me that it hadn’t taken him very long to arrive in Chicago. “Chuck,” I said. “How did you get here so soon? I didn’t know if you understood what I was telling you, or if you would even come.”

  “Everything lined up just right,” he said. “My wife and I had just finished dinner in downtown Akron, and we were headed for the Quaker Square Inn for the night when you called. I didn’t get the whole story from you, but we figured if you were talking police station and murder charge in the same sentence, you were in trouble and needed help. We turned the car around and headed for the Cleveland airport. I already had a bag packed, and I managed to get a seat on the last flight out at 8:45. I think it was the last flight to land, too, before O’Hare was closed because of the weather.”

  I felt terrible. I had ruined something special for him and his wife. “Chuck, I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “It was my wife’s birthday, and we had a nice dinner together. We’ll stay at Quaker Square another time. With Mick in England, I couldn’t have stayed in Ohio and let you go through this by yourself. Did you call Nate?”

  “No,” I said. “Darby asked me not to call Mick or Nate. He only wanted me to call you. He said you would know what to do.”

  He nodded his head. “Listen, I’ll call both of them in the morning. I think all of this news might be easier to hear coming from me. If they hear it from you, and you start crying, well, you know.”

  I did know.

  “It’s ok,” I said. “I understand.” I pulled the number for Mick in England out of my coat pocket and handed it to him. He already had Nate’s number back home.

  “Good,” he said. “Where will I be sleeping tonight?”

  I showed him into Darby’s room. Something was wrong. Things weren’t thrown around, but it wasn’t neat and tidy either. I looked in my room and found the same condition. The folded clothes in my suitcase were now in a heap.

  “Someone’s been in here,” I told him.

  He immediately did a quick search of the entire condo, even checking closets and under beds. “It could have been someone looking for something,” he said. “Do you have any idea who it might have been?”