by Krista Davis
Honey blinked at me. “Oh! That’s why you’re here. Silly me. Well, if one of us had a reason to attack Alex, it would be me, not my ex. Alex has done a bang-up job for him. He would have rescued Alex instead of beating him up.”
I knew she was trying to make a point when she said it would have been her who had a reason to attack Alex. Still, I couldn’t help wondering. “School will be starting soon. Do you and the kids have any fun plans for the remainder of the summer?”
“No vacation at the shore for us this year. We spend most afternoons at the pool. The cheap one. But it’s clean and they have fun. Yesterday my youngest learned to dive.”
What time did the pool close? “That sounds like fun. Movie night afterward?”
“How did you know? Thank heaven I can still afford to buy hot dogs and make popcorn. They’ve been running the Star Wars series every night this week. My kids are mesmerized by it.”
I thanked her for talking to me. “Before I go, do you know the Gibbards?”
Honey snickered. “Really? You don’t know? I’m the eldest of the grand clan. They adopted me and then Harry about a year later. There was a time when our mom thought she couldn’t have children. But surprise! When I was about three, she became pregnant after all. The doctors told her that happens sometimes. But postdivorce I’m keeping my husband’s name, Armbruster, because that’s the name of my children.”
“I had no idea.” My head reeled. “I’m so sorry about Grainger.”
“Thank you. It was one of those tough times you mentioned. Just horrible. It changed our lives.”
“Do you think Nellie murdered him?”
Fear flickered in her eyes. But Honey was nothing if not stoic. “She was convicted.”
That she was, but I was surprised by the manner in which she sidestepped the question. I thanked her again and promised not to breathe a word of her personal problems. But I walked away from her home, wondering if she knew more than she was letting on.
I strolled home, thinking that I knew nothing more than I had in the morning. Honey’s husband probably hadn’t been involved in the attack on Alex.
As I passed Bernie’s mansion, I heard voices.
“Sophie!”
That didn’t sound like Bernie or Mars. I paused and spied Brock jogging down the stairs from their porch.
“I was looking for you. The guys saw me and invited me in.”
“You’re probably sick of pie, but I have one in the fridge.”
Mars overheard me. “Are we invited, too?”
I looked at Brock. “Can you speak freely in front of them?”
“Sure.”
I raised my hand and signaled for them to come over. Brock settled comfortably in my kitchen and made friends with Daisy and Mochie.
“Hot tea or iced?” I asked.
“Do you have that iced sweet tea they serve around here?”
“I do.” I poured the dark amber liquid over ice cubes and set the kettle on the stove for my hot tea.
Bernie and Mars barreled in and it felt like a party.
I pulled the incomplete s’mores pie from the fridge. A slice was missing! I hadn’t tried it or served it. But I had a sneaking suspicion I knew who might have sampled it. I had never even gotten around to putting the marshmallow topping on it. Instead of whipping up a marshmallow topping, I quickly added marshmallows to the top and took a minute to brown them under the broiler.
When everyone sat on the banquette with the s’mores pie and tea in front of them, I waited for Brock to speak.
Chapter 26
Dear Sophie,
How much larger than the pie pan should the dough be for the crust?
Precise Baker in Inchelium, Washington
Dear Precise Baker,
A one-inch overhang is recommended. Fold it under and crimp into a pleasing rim.
Sophie
“When Patsy Lee had a little too much to drink, she would ramble about some of the things she had done to get to the top. Most of them were stupid pranks,” said Brock.
“Like what?” I prompted.
He swallowed a bite of pie. “At a competition that Tommy Earl would probably have won, Peter snuck into the pantry and stole an ingredient that Tommy Earl needed. He had to bake without it, which gave Patsy Lee a huge advantage.”
“I hope she felt guilty about it,” I muttered.
“I think it weighed on her conscience. According to her, Peter didn’t have that problem. He walked by the oven and turned it down once when she was in competition with Roger. When Roger pulled his pie from the oven, it was still raw. They played tricks on everyone. Patsy Lee was at a big conference where they were doing demonstrations and Peter kicked loose the power to Nellie’s oven.”
Mars stopped eating. “I’m in politics, and I thought people threw dirty punches in my business. That’s insane. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“It does to them! And it makes for drama when something goes wrong for a chef on TV,” said Brock.
“Did you do things like that for Patsy Lee?” asked Bernie.
“No! Never. I think it’s slimy. By the time I came along, she turned down competitions. She did demonstrations and judged contests, things like that. And she had her own show, of course, which wasn’t live in case anything went haywire and we had to reshoot.”
“So basically you’re saying that Peter used unethical tactics to assist her rise to stardom,” said Mars.
“Yeah. When she came in on Saturday morning, she said to keep an eye out for Peter because she was through with him. Apparently, they had a big blowup about something when she went to see him on Friday night. I didn’t know what to make of it. She was angry, yet sort of sad at the same time.”
“That’s what you couldn’t say in front of Peter.” Now I understood why he had come by. “Yet you took a job with him,” I observed.
“I don’t have the luxury of not working. I figured I’d hang in with him for a few days to collect a paycheck, then head back to New York. I’ve got nothing to lose, and it bought me a few days to cast around for another job.”
“Did you tell Wolf?” I asked.
“Not the details. But I let him know that Patsy Lee and Peter had an argument. The rest of the stuff is petty and in the past. But the fact that Peter and Patsy Lee fought about something hours before she died, well, I figured that was important. Peter clearly has no integrity. And his principles of decency are severely impaired.”
Brock wiped his brow and sat back. “I held Patsy Lee in high esteem and it always bothered me that she managed to get ahead through slimeball tactics. But now she’s gone and it doesn’t matter anymore. And I think she was a decent person deep down. She had a hard life before she met Peter. Her dad drank, and when she was a kid, she never knew what to expect when she came home from school. Sometimes he didn’t show up for days, and other times she tiptoed around afraid of triggering a rage. She was the kid who went without dinner most nights and couldn’t wait to get to school in the morning for breakfast.”
It was hard for me to imagine that Patsy Lee had grown up living in terror. “I had no idea.”
“Do you think Peter killed her?” Bernie asked.
Brock’s jaw hardened and his fingers coiled into balls. “It was my fault. I was supposed to watch out for her, but I missed it. Somebody got by me. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
I placed my hand over his fist. “It wasn’t your fault. Hey, I heard a rumor that Patsy Lee had a sweetheart in Old Town whom she used to visit. Do you know who that was?”
“For years I was paid to keep her secrets.” He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. It was Roger.”
Mars almost spewed tea. Fortunately, he caught himself in time. “Roger Mackenzie? Are you kidding me?”
“I know,” said Brock. “Who’d have thought it? He’s like the exact opposite of big, blustery Peter. Maybe that’s what she saw in him. I always felt like she was embarrassed about her relationship with Roger. Ma
ybe that’s why she kept it a secret.”
Bernie finally spoke up. “So Patsy Lee had a romantic relationship with Roger, but spent Friday night with Peter. Either one of them could have been sufficiently angry to have killed her.”
“Roger is very envious of Patsy Lee’s success,” I said. “What did he say to me? Something about her finally stepping on the wrong person.” All three of them looked at me. “I’ll tell Wolf. One other thing, Brock. Do you know anything about a check that Patsy Lee wrote out to me?”
“All I know is what the cops told me.”
“She wanted to have a private lunch with me that day. Do you know what that was about?”
“She was very happy about it. I’m trying to remember her exact words. It was something like she couldn’t change the past, but she could change a future.”
I was totally bewildered. Could it have involved Nellie and Grainger’s death? Did she plan to come clean? Did she intend to offer money to Nellie’s family? Or to pay for legal costs that might help Nellie get out of prison?
“Do you have the check?” asked Mars.
“No. I knew nothing about it until Wolf told me. She had my address, too, so maybe she mailed it? I’m completely clueless.”
Bernie gazed at Brock. “You’re sure you don’t know what this is about?”
“Only that she seemed to feel good about it.”
“Why would she need you?” asked Mars. “If she was setting up a baking scholarship or some kind of fund to help people, then why would she make out a check to you?”
“Maybe she wants to sponsor a convention or begin an annual charity event. I guess I won’t know until the check arrives. Though I have to wonder why she would have mailed it when she was going to see me that day, anyway. It doesn’t make any sense. Did she ever mention Grainger or Nellie to you?”
Brock shook his head. “Those names don’t ring any bells for me.”
Brock stretched his legs. “Thanks for the pie, Sophie. It was delish. I’ll be in town for a few more days. If you need anything from me, I’m staying at the Belmont.”
I saw him to the door. “Thank you, Brock. I guess you won’t be working for Natasha.”
His eyes opened wide. “Man! I thought Peter was going to blow a gasket. Gotta give him credit, though. He just walked away from her like she didn’t exist. He didn’t yell at her or say she was fired, nothing like that. He was just done. Poor Natasha was the one who was all fired up. I had to walk her to the taxi stand at the hotel to get her to leave!”
“Thanks for handling it. I’m sure she’ll be appreciative, too, once she has had a chance to chill out.”
He walked away, and I closed the door.
When I returned to the kitchen, Mars and Bernie asked about Alex.
“I’m headed that way now to check on him. I don’t know if they’ll let me see him.”
Mars stacked the dishes in the sink. “We’ll take you.”
On the trip to the hospital, I told them about Alex’s missing client and how that had bombed as a lead.
“It could be anyone,” said Bernie. “His assistant is in the best position to guess who might be suspects.”
“If she has a hunch, she sure wasn’t sharing it with me.”
Mars had been uncharacteristically silent on the drive. “What would a person tell his attorney that would make him want to permanently silence the lawyer and set fire to his files?”
Chapter 27
Dear Sophie,
I read that one shouldn’t freeze pie dough. I’m completely flummoxed. I thought it was a good thing to freeze it. Doesn’t freezing the dough make it more flaky?
Pie Pro in Pie Town, New Mexico
Dear Pie Pro,
You are correct. The old saying goes “make it cold, bake it hot.” Some recipes even recommend freezing the pie for fifteen minutes before baking it.
Sophie
It was a good question. Mars had put his finger on the precise thing we needed to know in order to uncover the monster that had attacked Alex.
“Could be anything. Everyone has secrets,” said Bernie.
I twisted in my seat to look at him. “What’s your deep, dark secret?”
He grinned at me. “I’ll never tell.”
“Does a lawyer know?”
“Why are you questioning me? I didn’t set fire to Alex’s office!”
I glanced at Mars, who was laughing. Personally, I thought Bernie was getting a little testy and wondered if he did have some kind of secret. He probably beat someone up. Maybe that was why he had that kink in his nose.
“Okay,” I said, “so it might be a previous scrape with the law that would ruin a reputation?”
“Or anything personal. Lawyers have a lot of details about their divorce clients. Maybe someone told him too much,” Mars suggested. “Something that can now be used against the client?”
Mars parked the car. We found Alex’s room without difficulty.
Wong had pulled guard duty. She gave me a hug. “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”
We walked inside. Alex was barely recognizable. If they had swapped him for another person, we wouldn’t have known. His face was practically swaddled with gauze.
I picked up his hand and leaned toward him. “Alex? Can you hear me? It’s Sophie.”
He didn’t move. There wasn’t even a twitch in his fingers.
“I guess he’s still in the medically induced coma,” I murmured.
Mars and Bernie tried to talk with him, too.
It was worse than depressing. I couldn’t believe this had happened to Alex. He was such an upstanding guy. He always played by the rules. What could have happened? I forced myself to shove those thoughts aside until later. I needed to be cheerful for him now. Who knew if he could understand anything that was being said?
Bernie was teasing him about missing out on the s’mores pie that I had baked. I promised to bake one just for him when he was released from the hospital.
A nurse bustled in to check his IV. “We have a ten-minute limit for nonfamily visitors. Are any of you family?”
Mars and Bernie looked at me.
“Does girlfriend count?”
“No, ma’am, it does not. But I’m sure he appreciates your visit.”
I knew she was only doing her job. I wished I could sit with him, but realized that he probably needed peace and quiet. We said goodbye to Alex and walked into the hallway.
“Have you seen his parents?” I asked Wong.
“We’re expecting them anytime.”
Bernie, Mars, and I left. The two of them gabbed, but I was thinking if I couldn’t be with Alex, maybe I could figure out who had done this to him. But how?
I asked Mars to drop me off at Alex’s house.
Bernie and Mars perked up immediately. “Do you have a key?” asked Mars.
I admitted that I did.
“We’re coming with you,” said Bernie. “As guards.”
They were being silly, but to be completely honest, I didn’t mind the company.
Alex had bought a historical home built in 1800. Smaller than my house, it had only two floors, unless one counted the ancient basement. It shared walls with neighboring houses on both sides. Built of red brick, it featured black shutters and a black front door, which seemed suitably masculine. It bordered the sidewalk and had only enough front yard for a few azalea plants under the front windows.
Mars parked half a block away from the house.
I pulled out my key and unlocked the front door. Without Alex, the building was eerily silent. I left Mars and Bernie in the living room, which always reminded me of an elegant home library, filled with books and cushy brown leather furniture. I bounded up the stairs to the room he used as a home office.
Apologizing to Alex, who might be offended by my behavior, I pawed through the orderly drawers of his desk. The top one on the right contained what I had hoped for—a password booklet.
I turned on the laptop, flipped through the password boo
k, and found the key word on the inside top cover. I typed it in and the computer screen opened up for me.
Mars walked in. “What are you doing?”
“That idiot who attacked him might have burned his paper files and melted his computers at the office, but if I know Alex, he has a backup somewhere.”
“Sophie, I think this is called hacking. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea.” Bernie scooted a stool up next to me and peered at the computer.
Mars picked up the password book. “Try a file called Office.”
I clicked on the Spotlight Search on his Mac and typed in Office.
“There are a lot of matches.”
Bernie pointed at a file. “Try that one.”
I clicked on it and when it opened, it revealed Alex’s calendar for the month of August. “Those look like appointments,” I said.
“And they include Armbruster,” Mars noted.
I stopped what I was doing. “I’d like to snoop, but you’re right, Bernie. It seems wrong to violate his privacy, especially since he was so careful about guarding his clients’ secrets. I’m just going to check his appointments for the day he was attacked.”
Mars leaned over my shoulder. “Agreed. That seems reasonable to me.”
I clicked on the date. “I’d like to find a client list to take to Wolf.”
“Wolf might arrest you,” said Bernie.
I scowled at him.
“I’m serious, Sophie. If there’s something on his desk, that’s one thing, but I don’t think we should hack into his computer files.”
I understood his point. And deep down I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to agree with him. “One of his clients tried to kill him.”
“Bummer,” Mars murmured, studying the screen. “Not a single entry on the calendar for yesterday afternoon.”
I didn’t want to give up. There had to be useful information in his files, but I reluctantly logged out and turned off the computer.
Chapter 28
