The Candy Cane Cupcake Killer Read Online Free PDF Page B

Whitmire came out. He looked even more tired and harassed than he had at the murder scene. He said, “I’m sorry to have kept you folks waiting. Mrs. Newsom, we’ll start with you.”
    â€œYou don’t want to talk to the two of us together?” Sam asked.
    â€œNo, it’s standard procedure to interview witnesses separately.”
    Phyllis knew that and wasn’t surprised. She stood up, gave Sam a smile, and followed the chief along a corridor to anopen door. They went into an interrogation room, which looked like the ones on TV and in the movies, Phyllis thought, only a little nicer. The walls were painted a neutral cream color rather than the common institutional green. The table in the center of the room wasn’t scarred, and showed signs of having been polished at some point. The two straight-backed chairs weren’t exactly comfortable, but the one Phyllis sat in didn’t make her squirm in discomfort, either.
    Whitmire sat down on the other side of the table, placed a small digital recorder between them, and began, “Interview with Mrs. Phyllis Newsom—”
    He didn’t get any further than that before the door burst open. A chunky, dark-haired man carrying a briefcase hurried into the room and exclaimed, “Don’t say another word, Phyllis!”

Chapter 4

    â€œ D ’Angelo!” Chief Whitmire said as he stood up. “What the devil are you doing here?”
    â€œSaving my client from illegally incriminating herself,” the newcomer replied.
    â€œMrs. Newsom waived the right to counsel.”
    D’Angelo looked at Phyllis as if he were badly disappointed in her. He said, “You did? Never waive any of your rights. Never. They’re what this country was built on.”
    â€œShe’s not being accused of anything,” Whitmire said, visibly holding in the irritation he felt. “I’m just taking a witness statement from her.”
    D’Angelo waved that off and said, “Doesn’t matter. She still needs legal representation.”
    â€œNo, I don’t, Mr. D’Angelo,” Phyllis said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
    â€œEveryone who deals with the police should have an attorney with them, looking out for their interests.”
    A realization came to Phyllis. She said, “Carolyn called you, didn’t she?”
    D’Angelo hesitated, cocking his squarish head to the side, before replying, “I’m not at liberty to say.”
    Phyllis sighed and shook her head. D’Angelo didn’t have to admit it. It was just like Carolyn to let her distrust of the authorities get the better of her common sense.
    Actually, though, she wasn’t upset to see Jimmy D’Angelo. She and Sam had known the bombastic defense attorney for a while, ever since he had represented the primary suspect in another case they had been mixed up in. In fact, D’Angelo had hired them to act as investigators in that case, giving them some legal standing for a change, and had said that he might call on their services again.
    According to Sam, that made them private eyes. Phyllis didn’t think it was quite that simple, but she didn’t see any point in arguing the matter.
    D’Angelo set his briefcase on the table and went on. “I was told there was some question about a suspicious death and some cupcakes you baked.”
    â€œThe cupcakes had nothing to do with it,” Phyllis said. “Poor Mr. McCrory was shot, not poisoned.”
    Whitmire leaned forward and said, “Speaking of those cupcakes, where are they, Mrs. Newsom?”
    D’Angelo pounced on that.
    â€œIf you don’t suspect Mrs. Newsom, why do you want her to turn over the cupcakes as evidence?”
    â€œI don’t! I want to eat one of them, blast it! I haven’t had any supper.”
    Clearly, that wasn’t the answer D’Angelo had beenexpecting. He blinked, frowned, and said, “Oh.”