Death by Jello Page 2

  I didn’t know that.

  Bill continued, “I thought it was strange at the time, but in retrospect I can understand her motive.”

  The detective was scribbling feverishly now. “Her motive?”

  Bill continued, “This morning, Bailey called me and said that she was in the vicinity of the warehouse and wanted to know if I wanted her to stop by and remove our signs. She could have easily gone into the building and found what she needed to kill Gilmore. It would be prudent of you, detective, to check her vehicle for trace evidence.”

  I stared at Bill, my mouth agape. “Bill, what are you saying? I was doing you a favor.”

  Newbauer stepped up. “Yeah, and she definitely had an axe to grind with Gilmore,” he said. “She was just complaining earlier that Gilmore never referred the big sales to her. What was it she said, guys?”

  “That all she ever got to sell were shacks,” Judith piped up. “She was sick of getting the low-commission sales.”

  The detective scrutinized me with hard eyes, “Well, Ms. Sweeney. It looks like the evidence is stacking up against you. Why don’t you come with me downtown for more questioning?” He grabbed my elbow and motioned for one of the uniformed officers.

  I started struggling against his grasp. “No, this isn’t right! I didn’t kill Gilmore!” I tried to escape the detective’s hold, but he only hung on tighter. Soon, I was fighting him with all my might. “Let go of me! I didn’t kill him! I’m being set up!”

  But no one was listening to me.

  Suddenly I found myself on the ground, where the uniformed officers wrangled cuffs onto my wrists. “Read her rights to her and take her in,” Steel ordered.

  “You know I didn’t do this,” I called out to my coworkers as the cops were dragging me toward the door. “Tell them that they’re wrong,” I pleaded. But, I knew no one would speak up for me. They were all in it together, even Bill. It had to have been the Chadmore deal. Gilmore was going to pass the project on to me. It was worth millions. Now, the rest of them would split the profits. They’d live well off the commission.

  I stole one last glance over my shoulder, I saw my coworkers raising their glasses with festive spirit.

  It was Newbauer who delivered the toast. “Here’s to Bailey...looks like she’s going to finally get her shot at a big house…prison that is!”