Duffel Bags And Drownings by Dorothy Howell Page A

what I’m talking about.
    I did as she asked and watched the screen. Minutes ticked by. At the rear of the building
     the Cady Faye Catering delivery van that had been backed up to the double doors drove
     away. Other cars pulled out. Vehicles kept rolling into the front lot, swinging into
     spaces. Shoppers made their way to the stores while others hoofed it to their cars,
     some carrying bags, got in, backed out, and drove away.
    The security camera hadn’t caught them, but black and white patrol units had pulled
     into the lot at some point, followed by a Crown Vic driven by Detectives Grayson and
     Elliston.
    Jack Bishop’s black Land Rover pulled into the front parking lot again. My heart did
     its usual pitter-patter—but for a different reason this time.
    Jack had driven
back
to the shopping center? Why?
    As I watched, he pulled into a space near the dry cleaners.
    Okay, that was weird.
    Of course, there could be a number of reasons why Jack would return to the shopping
     center. Maybe his dry cleaning hadn’t been ready when he’d been in earlier. Maybe
     he’d forgotten something inside one of the stores he’d visited. Perhaps he was just
     looking for a spot to make a cell phone call.
    Or perhaps he’d seen the flashing lights on the patrol cars and pulled in to see what
     was going down. Maybe he was just killing time. It didn’t sound likely, but I guess
     even look-at-me-I’m-really-cool private detectives could have a slow day.
    Another few minutes ticked by. Jack didn’t get out of his Land Rover. Finally, he
     backed up and followed a gray Honda Pilot out of camera range.
    I glanced at the date and time stamp on the screen and realized that while Jack was
     sitting in the parking lot, I’d been waiting inside Cady Faye Catering to talk to
     the homicide detectives, only to have my eventual interview interrupted by Cady’s
     arrival and the screaming fit she’d thrown upon learning about Jeri’s death.
    I realized, too, that the security camera hadn’t caught her Mercedes as it had pulled
     into the parking lot.
    “See?” Faye said. “Nothing unusual is going on.”
    “There isn’t much on these tapes,” I pointed out.
    “Exactly,” Faye declared. “If someone had actually murdered Jeri, wouldn’t we see
     some sign of it outside? Somewhere on this footage? But there’s nothing, no indication
     at all that a crime was committed.”
    I couldn’t argue with that.
    Faye gestured at the TV. “Nobody is running away. No cars are speeding off. No vehicles
     are racing through the parking lot—front or back. Nobody is jumping into a waiting
     car and tearing out of here.”
    There was also no sign of a giant leprechaun leaving the building.
    “Everything is calm. Nobody is panicked,” Faye said. She drew in a breath. “Which
     means there was no murder.”
    I thought that was a big leap to make, but Faye didn’t give me a chance to say so.
    “Those detectives are overzealous,” she declared. “They’re seeing a crime where one
     simply doesn’t exist. And in the process they’re threatening to damage the reputation
     of my company. I won’t have it. Not after everything I’ve put into this place.”
    Faye popped the DVD out of the tray and switched off the television.
    “Don’t worry about Cady,” she told me. “She will have the food prepared for the Brannocks’
     party. Everything will be beautifully presented, delicious, and more than you or your
     clients could hope for.”
    Faye left and I stood there in the employee lounge thinking. A lot was going on in
     my head, but one thing was perfectly clear.
    I had to talk to Jack Bishop.
     

Chapter 6
     
    As soon as I got into my car outside of Cady Faye Catering I called Jack’s cell phone.
     He didn’t answer so I left a message asking him to call me right away. Then I pulled
     the paper from my portfolio that Lourdes had printed out for me with the contact info
     for the two extra-large servers, picked one of them,