Free Murderous Muffins by Lois Lavrisa Page A

Mrs. Thomson, or Cat, as you call her, said that you said to her when referring to Mr. Hu Phong, ‘I’ll take a switch to him,’” Officer Ray said.
    “Yes, but that was about him taking the muffins, and it was a joke,” I said.
    “Humph.” Ray cracked his knuckles before flipping a page in his notepad. “So you didn’t like him taking the muffins?”
    “No. I mean, yes. Everyone in my house was welcome to have them. That’s why I made them. Southern hospitality.”
    “I bet they’re great,” Tracy said.
    “Yes, one of my specialties. I learned how to cook from my nanny, who also passed on all sorts of her recipes to me. I can do most of them with my eyes closed.” I sighed, remembering my sweet Hattie. Gosh, I wished she were here.
    “And Mr. Frank Kincaid said that you said, ‘Give me a little time, I’m sure that I can silence Mr. Phong.’”
    “Well, something like that,” I stammered. “But you’re taking it out of context.”
    Tracy scooted his chair closer to me. “Are we?”
    “Frank and Lily wanted to move out because Mr. Phong was making so much noise.” I folded and unfolded my hands in my lap.
    “And what would’ve happened if they moved?” Ray asked.
    This was by far the most embarrassing time of my life. Tears welled in my eyes. Time to come clean. “Here’s for the record. I’m not proud of the mess that I’m in. But I’m beyond broke. All that I have left of my family’s inheritance is the house. An ancient house that is in desperate need of attention. I took out as many home equity loans as I was able to in order to do as many repairs as I could afford. Money ran out before all the work was done. And the bills kept rolling in. So I had to take in renters to help keep the house from foreclosure.” I sucked in a deep breath. “There. I’ve humbled myself in front of you. I’m not proud of it.”
    “Finally the truth. See? That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Ray smirked.
    My heart stabbed and ached with a million needles of despair. “No, sir.”
    Ray asked, “Let me get this right. You needed the renters to help pay bills?”
    “Yes,” I said. “And not only do I have the equity loans, I have unpaid taxes. It just kind of got out of hand.”
    Tracy dipped his head as if in sympathy for me.
    “And what would happen if you didn’t have renters?” Ray asked.
    I inhaled, then let out my breath. That was the exact question I’d asked myself many times. And each time, the answer sank me into hopelessness. “I’d lose everything.”
    “When you say everything , you mean the house?” Ray asked.
    “Yes. However, the house is not just what you see. It’s like a relative to me, with all the laughter. The people who lived there and made it alive are all now a part of the structure. It is my family.”
    “Let me make sure I get this right. Your dwelling is like, what, um, a person?” Tracy asked.
    “It is all that and more. It’s me. It’s my past; it’s my future.” I straightened my back.
    Ray cleared his throat. “Because your residence is like family, you needed to keep it. Is that correct?”
    I nodded.
    Ray continued. “To prevent you from losing the house, it was important for you to keep renters. To make repairs, pay bills.”
    Again I nodded; this time my head stayed low.
    Ray added, “And once you had renters in place and had money coming in, you had to keep them happy so they wouldn’t leave?”
    I lifted my head. “Why, yes. It’s also just plain good manners, too.”
    Ray asked, “Let’s say a renter complained about bugs. You’d take care of it to keep them happy, wouldn’t you?”
    “Of course,” I said.
    “And if your tenants complained about no hot water, you’d take care of that too, right?” Ray asked.
    “Yes,” I said. Ray was stating the obvious. Where was he going with these questions? He was leading me somewhere, but where? I had repaired, fixed, and replaced countless items in the house.
    Ray persisted. “Okay, then. If a