Lemon Bars With A Side Of Murder Read online

  Lemon Bars with a Side of Murder

  Meredith Potts

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  “Where did you get this pill?” John Parker asked.

  The fact that John had skipped over all pleasantries didn’t bother me nearly as much as the concerned tone that was in his voice.

  “My ex-boyfriend dropped it on the street. He told me it was a specialized blend to stop headaches,” I replied.

  When John’s forehead wrinkled, I knew that something else was going on. I had suspected as much. That was why I had brought the pill to John in the first place.

  The tall and slender thirty-five-year-old was a chemistry teacher at Treasure Cove High School. He was also a regular at Daley Buzz, my family’s coffee shop.

  I had scooped up the pill from the sidewalk a few weeks ago after finishing a tense conversation with my ex-boyfriend Wally. Initially, I had brought the pill to my current boyfriend, Detective David Carlson, to have the crime lab look at it.

  Unfortunately, David had told me that there weren’t sufficient grounds to give the pill to the lab for testing.

  My next stop had been to talk to John. Thankfully, he had agreed to run some tests on the pill.

  “A specialized blend? Formulated by who?” John asked.

  “My working theory is that his hypnotherapist gave it to him,” I said. “Are you saying it’s not designed to relieve headaches?”

  John shook his head. “Not even close.”

  “What is it designed for, then?”

  “What’s the name of this hypnotherapist?”

  “Gregory Morton. Why?”

  “I’ll be sure to never go to him.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “John, what’s going on?”

  “This pill has concentrated amounts of dextramaltin in it.”

  I scrunched my nose. “What’s that?”

  “A potent compound that is derived from the root of the Jimbaya plant.”

  “I’ve never heard of that plant,” I replied.

  “It’s a rare plant that only grows in remote corners of southeastern Asia.”

  “How do you even know about it?”

  “That’s what the Internet is for.”

  “Says you,” I replied. “I know a bunch of people who think the Internet is for watching cat videos and posting incendiary political opinions on social media.”

  “We all use the Internet differently,” he said.

  “We sure do. Now, back to this dextramalkin—”

  He corrected me. “Dextramaltin.”

  “Whatever it’s called. Now when you say it’s potent, how strong are we talking here?”

  “Strong enough to be illegal. Dextramaltin is known for its mind-altering properties.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing that you find in your common over-the-counter headache pill,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No. There’s a reason this compound is illegal.”

  “Can you think of any reason that Gregory would give this to his patients to treat headaches?”

  “It is classified as a sedative,” John replied. “But it is far better known for its hallucinogenic properties. That is especially troubling considering that a hypnotherapist is doling these out to his patients.”

  “Could a pill like this be used to open up the mind to radical change?”

  John nodded. “Among other things.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Like all compounds that are as potent as this, there are side effects.”

  “What sort of side effects?” I asked.

  “Delusions. Wild mood swings. Paranoia—”

  “My ex-boyfriend seems to be experiencing all of those.” I scratched my forehead. “If this chemical is a sedative, though, I wonder why Wally was getting such intense headaches.”

  “Probably from withdrawal,” John replied.

  “From the dextramaltin?”

  John nodded. “Most likely. Compounds this powerful are known for leaving a person with intense withdrawal symptoms the minute the effects of the pill wear off.”

  I let out a sigh. “Any more bad news?”

  “It’s also highly addictive.”

  “Of course. Just when I thought the news couldn’t get worse,” I said. “Please tell me that’s all.”

  John nodded. “That’s everything.”

  I stared out into the distance and theorized out loud. “There’s something very suspicious about a hypnotherapist who is having his patients take a mind-altering pill like this and disguising them as headache medication.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “It makes you wonder what he is really up to.”

  “I have a feeling the answer will be terrifying,” John replied.

  My eyes were wide. “Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Anyway, thank you for testing the pill.”

  “No problem.”

  I pulled my wallet out of my purse. “Here’s a little something for your time.”

  He waggled his pointer finger back and forth at me. “I don’t want your money.”

  I left my wallet open. “Are you sure? After all, you went to all the trouble of analyzing the pill for me.”

  “I’ll tell you what. Give me free coffee for a week and we’re even.”

  “I’ll go one better. Free coffee for a month.”

  John smiled. “Now I’m the one who needs to be thanking you.”

  Chapter Two

  My instincts had told me that something was fishy with those so-called headache pills, but the truth was far more shocking than I had anticipated. While some of my questions were now answered, I suddenly found myself wrestling with a whole new set of questions.

  I had been suspicious of Gregory Morton from the moment I had heard grand claims about his transformative hypnosis treatments. The cloud of suspicion only grew a month later when I had spotted Gregory’s car pulling out of the parking lot of a secret, invite-only meeting that was being held at the old banquet hall on Treasure Cove Lane. Now, I had proof that he was supplying illegal pills to his patients.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what other shady things he was doing. I was determined to find out. But before I did, I knew it was essential to relay this new information about Gregory Morton and the dextramaltin pill to my boyfriend, Detective David Carlson. As I left the high school and got back into my car, I gave David a call.

  David answered his phone with a jovial tone in his voice. “Sabrina. I was just talking about you.”

  His upbeat tone was especially surprising considering that it was only eight o’clock in the morning. My boyfriend was a lot of things, but a morning person was not one of them. That said, it was really great to hear him in such a good mood.

  I scrunched my nose. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at my parents’ house. They both say hi, by the way.”

  “Davi
d, is there any way you can excuse yourself for a minute?”

  David ignored my request and carried on with his own line of thought. “Don’t you want to know what I said about you?”

  “I do, but there’s something I need to tell you—”

  David couldn’t wait to share with me what was on his mind. “I was just telling them how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

  My heart warmed as David’s statement washed over me. “That’s so sweet.”

  “It’s just how I feel. The fact is that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

  I couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the sentiment of the moment. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

  “It’s also the truth.”

  “Aww, David. I feel the same way about you.”

  “That’s great to hear.”

  “Although, I have to ask. What prompted this sudden outpouring of emotions?”

  “My parents were just expressing their concern over the recent spike in crime in town.”

  “They aren’t the only ones who are concerned,” I said.

  “Tell me about it. Especially considering the close calls that you and I have experienced during the last few cases. We’ve been really lucky that we escaped without a scratch. Not everyone can say that. We both know people who have lost loved ones in the past few months. That just makes me appreciate even more how lucky I am to have you in my life,” David replied.

  “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

  “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” David said. “Anyway, I don’t know what you’re doing right now, but you should swing on by my parents’ place.”

  “Actually, something very important has just come up,” I said.

  “More important than fresh-baked blueberry muffins?” he asked. “My mother just took them out of the oven, and they look amazing.”

  My mouth began watering. David’s mom made the best blueberry muffins I had ever tasted. It was so difficult not to get caught up daydreaming about delicious baked goodies, but I needed to stay focused.

  “I never thought I would say this, but I don’t have time for a blueberry muffin right now. And neither do you,” I replied.

  Panic came to David’s voice. “Why? What’s wrong? You’re not in any danger, are you?”

  “No.”

  I could hear David breathing a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said.

  “Although, it’s pretty fitting that you mentioned the recent spike in crime.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I hope you’re sitting down,” I said.

  “Sabrina, what is it?”

  I told David everything that John had explained to me about the dextramaltin pill. When I finished going over it all, there was dead silence on the other end of the phone line.

  David was so quiet that I worried that the call had dropped. Then I heard him breathe and realized that he was still processing what I had told him.

  Finally, a few seconds later, David replied, “It sounds like we need to pay Gregory Morton a visit.”

  ***

  Instead of taking two cars over to Gregory Morton’s office, I met up with David at the police station, parked my car in the lot, and then hopped into his sedan. A blueberry muffin was waiting for me when I got into the passenger seat.

  “There is always time for a blueberry muffin,” David said.

  I gave him a smile and then made quick work of the muffin. I was happy to report that the muffin did not disappoint. As a matter of fact, it was as delicious as ever. David’s mother sure knew her way around a kitchen. If she wasn’t retired, I would say that she should open a bakery of her own.

  “Good stuff, huh?” David asked.

  “Amazing is more like it,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, but it’s my mother you should be giving kudos to,” David replied.

  “I’ll do that later. In the meantime, we have some work to do.”

  David nodded. “I’m curious to see what Gregory Morton has to say for himself.”

  I let out a sigh. “He’ll probably deny everything.”

  “That’s why I’m going to swing by the courthouse first and get a search warrant for his office,” David said. “If he has anything to hide, I’m going to find it.”

  “I hope you’re ready for some fireworks. Gregory doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who is going to go down without a fight.”

  “That may be true, but if Gregory has really been giving dextramaltin pills to his patients, he is definitely going down.”

  “I just wonder what other information you might be able to get out of him.”

  “We’ll find out shortly. In the meantime, I have to admit, it looks like your instincts were spot-on once again.”

  “In this case, I wish I was wrong. Gregory has dozens of patients, including both Gavin Zeller and Wally Tuttle. Just imagine the damage that those pills have done to them.”

  “All the more reason to stop Gregory now before things get even more out of hand,” David said.

  I nodded. “That said, I keep thinking that Gregory can’t be acting alone. I mean, where would he even be able to get an illegal compound like dextramaltin?”

  David squinted. “Maybe from his friend in the secret society, William Bolton.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. “That could be. After all, William does run an import-export business.”

  “Exactly. So maybe William has been doing a little extra importing—off the books.”

  I scrunched my nose. “That could be. Either way, these are all questions to ask Gregory.”

  “I just wonder if we’re going to get any answers,” David said.

  “I sure hope so. We have sure spent a long enough time searching for the truth,” I replied.

  Just as David turned onto State Street and pulled up in front of the courthouse, a call came over his police radio.

  “Detective Carlson,” a female voice said.

  David grabbed his radio and spoke into it. “This is Carlson.”

  “Suspected 1-8-7 at 2375 High Street,” the female voice said.

  187 was one of the few police codes that I did know by heart. It was the code for a homicide. But that wasn’t the only shocking part of the radio call.

  My eyes widened. “2375 High Street? That’s the address of Gregory Morton’s office.”

  Chapter Three

  David peeled rubber over to Gregory Morton’s office. When David and I arrived, a police squad car and a forensics van were parked in front of the building. The dispatcher had not given David the victim’s name over the radio, but I had a hunch about who the deceased was.

  Gregory leased out a small office. In addition, the hypnotherapist only had one employee. That meant the pool of potential victims was quite small. My stomach was telling me that Gregory was the one who had been killed.

  It didn’t take long for me to get an answer. When David and I entered the waiting room, the door was open to his back office. As I looked inside that back office, I saw Gregory Morton’s lifeless body on the ground. A knife was sticking out of his chest.

  “Oh no,” I said.

  David’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I’ll say. We suddenly have a lot more to worry about than Gregory giving his patients dextramaltin pills.”

  I began to feel nauseous, as I always did around dead bodies. That was something that never changed, no matter how many cases I investigated.

  “Sabrina, are you okay? Do you want to go back outside and get some air?” David asked.

  I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.”

  “All right,” David said. “I’ll tell you what. You stay here and I’ll go check in with the medical examiner.”

  I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down as David moved over to Eric Stewart, who was examining the body.

  When I got my bearings back, I scanned the office. It turned out that Gregory’s corpse on
the ground wasn’t the only shocking sight in the office. The whole place was trashed. It looked like a burglar had ransacked the place. The drawers of his filing cabinet were open, his desk was cluttered with papers, and a few stray pills were on a shelf behind his desk.

  My eyes focused on the shelf where the pills were. In total, I only saw about half a dozen pills, which was odd, considering that I didn’t see any bottles anywhere. A member of the forensics team stood beside the shelf and bagged up the stray pills. Curiously, I didn’t see any evidence bags filled with bottles.

  That made me wonder if whoever had done this had taken the bottles. Had Gregory been killed over his stash of dextramaltin? My mind had a hard time believing that. Especially when I looked closer at the crime scene. It was more likely that the guilty party wanted us to think that they were after the pills when they were really here for another reason entirely.

  I became so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice David making his way back over to me.

  “The medical examiner needs a little more time before he can tell me his preliminary findings,” David said.

  My head remained in the clouds.

  When a few more seconds ticked by without me answering him, David spoke up. “Sabrina.”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about how crazy the world is,” I said.

  “Yeah. This morning is turning out far differently than I expected,” David replied.

  I exhaled. “I’ll say. I thought we’d be coming over here to question Gregory. I never thought we’d end up in the middle of a murder investigation.”

  “This isn’t just any case. I have a feeling that things could get really nasty with this one,” David replied.

  At that moment, the medical examiner got up from beside Gregory’s body and approached David and me.

  Eric Stewart was a balding, bespectacled, pear-shaped fifty-one-year-old. He had a discouraged look on his face, which made me worry that worse news was yet to come.

  David was curious to get some answers. “What have you got?”

  Eric let out a sigh. “Not a whole lot.”

  “That isn’t what I want to hear,” David said.