Sugar and Vice

by Eve Calder

  “Ay, I know. The kids got their room assignments for next year already. So the teachers want to meet the parents, and get them signed up for clubs and room moms and field-trip escorts and stuff. Teachers are super organized. And mi amor has been taking off at dawn lately and coming home late. So he can’t go.”

  “How’s everything going there?” Kate asked quietly.

  Maxi shrugged.

  “You still think he’s hiding something?”

  “I don’t just think it,” she said, exhaling. “I know it.”

  Kate paused, remembering her conversation with Manny. Could Peter be cheating? Or did he know more about Alvin than he was letting on? Somehow, the second option seemed more plausible. But if that was the case, wouldn’t the state attorney’s office have offered the family more protection? Unless, maybe, there was a secret Peter was keeping from them, as well.

  “OK, so what did you discover about Teddy?” Kate asked, hoping that somehow it would cancel out what she learned from Sam.

  “Teddy’s last name is Randolph,” Maxi said, as she pulled up a chair at the kitchen table.

  Kate poured cream into her own mug. “How did you learn that? I talked with everyone at that party last night. Even Sam didn’t know his last name.”

  “Annie.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “After you left, I was chatting with Annie and Sunny. I mentioned Teddy, and it turns out Annie had filled a prescription for the guy. He was fighting off some kind of bronchitis or something when he first arrived. That was January, and it was still super cold most everywhere else.”

  “Oh, I remember,” Kate said, recalling her last frozen winter in New York, and the banks of gray snow that seemed to line both sides of the street for days at a time.

  “So what did you learn?” Maxi asked, setting her coffee mug on the table with a thunk.

  “I’m really afraid Alvin is Teddy,” Kate said. “That’s why I didn’t want to say anything on the phone. Since you actually knew him.”

  “Nooo,” Maxi said. “Why do you think it’s him?”

  “Remember how Ben said Alvin had broken his nose sometime in the last few years?”

  Maxi nodded.

  “Well, Sam remembered that Teddy worked as a bouncer. And that he’d gotten his nose broken on the job.”

  “Dios mio, what are we going to tell Amos?”

  “I’ve been weighing that one, too. And I think we take the information to Ben. It’s not much, really. More of a possible lead than anything else. But he’s got the resources to follow up and find out if it really is Teddy. Because it’s also possible that Teddy’s safe and sound somewhere else.”

  “That would be really good,” Maxi said hopefully.

  “Now that you’ve given us Teddy’s last name, I think I know how we can find out where he is. But we’ll have to wait until you get back, because we’re going to need your computer.”

  Chapter 40

  The bakery had been jammed all morning, as word of the cookie contest had spread. Even the vacationers made a point of stopping by to sample the winners and take a chance that theirs might be the next entry pulled from the oversized yellow cookie jar on the counter.

  “That doghouse was a work of art,” Rosie Armand said as she stepped up to the counter, after the shop had finally cleared. “Andre was fascinated just trying to figure out how you constructed it and kept it standing.”

  “Edible duct tape.”

  “Really?”

  “Almost as good,” Kate said grinning. “Sugar icing is a wonder. But I always kind of hold my breath when I’m first putting them together. Hey, while you’re here, I’ll select tomorrow’s contest winner. If I have a witness, then everyone knows I’m not cherry-picking them.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you were,” Rosie said. “I’ve tried every one so far, and they’re all amazing.”

  Kate looked up and saw Sam Hepplewhite coming through the front door.

  “Thought you might need lunch,” he said, holding up a white paper shopping bag from Oy and Begorra. “Special today’s lasagna. Got two of ’em. Figure we can eat in the kitchen.”

  “Sounds great, I’m starving,” Kate called over her shoulder, as she handed a wax bag to Rosie, along with two small bakery boxes. “OK, here’s the focaccia. And a half dozen of the campout cookies—today’s winner thanks to Javie and Michael Más-Buchanan. And I also included a box of those anise and almond ones you like.”

  “Those are my favorite—thank you!” Rosie said, handing her a twenty. “I’m thinking I just might stop for some of that lasagna for my own self.”

  After handing Rosie the change, Kate lifted the cookie jar carefully from its spot on the counter, reached in, and gave the entries a good stir. Then she plunged her hand to the very bottom and snagged a three-by-five card.

  Unfolding it, she read aloud, “Praline sandies.”

  “Ooh, my mom makes those,” Rosie said. “Pralines are an old New Orleans specialty. Every family has a recipe that uses them in one way or another. My mom makes praline sandies—and hers are wonderful. Little flaky, buttery cookies with a thick layer of caramel over the top. And in the middle, a single candied pecan half. They are scrumptious.”

  “They sound great,” Kate said. “And I’m open to any baking hints you want to share.”

  “Oh, that’s not my recipe,” Rosie said, pointing to the paper card in Kate’s hand. “I wouldn’t dare. Andre is stuffing the ballot box for his grandma’s madeleines—but don’t tell him I told you.”

  “So if this is a popular New Orleans treat, that probably means the winner is”—Kate looked down at the paper and flipped it over in her hand to read the back—“Harper Duval.”

  Chapter 41

  With Sam manning the counters, and the first batch of sandies cooling on a rack, Kate decided it was time for a break. From the front porch, she could see Maxi’s Jeep in the driveway of the flower shop.

  “What say we go for a little visit?” she said to Oliver, who was stretched out on one of the two white benches that flanked the bakery’s front door. “I’ll take her some campout cookies for Javie, and Michael, and Elena. And you can run around her backyard. But no digging,” she warned him, playfully. “Definitely no digging.”

  Oliver scrambled to his feet, executed his own version of a downward dog, and hopped off the bench. When she returned with a large bakery box just a few minutes later, he held the purple Frisbee softly in his mouth.

  As Kate walked through the door of Flowers Maximus, Maxi was on the phone. “OK, so you want two large pirate boots with silver buckles and one pirate ship? Oh sure, I can do that. No problem. No, that’s fine. We’ll just bill the resort. How about some balloons?”

  She turned, saw Kate standing there, pointed to the phone and flashed a thumbs-up. “We can do bunches, or an arch, or singles. Uh-huh, an arch is very festive. Well, if you want it to look like the ocean, we can mix blues and greens. Of course! OK, so I’ll add two arches to the order.”

  Maxi held up a hand to indicate she’d be just a minute. “A pirate treasure, too? Have you got a cake? ’Cause a pirate treasure cake would be exquisite. And I guarantee you, no one’s ever had one of those before. Uh-huh. Well, I know a pastry chef who could. Trained at the CIA and just moved here from Manhattan. Beautiful stuff. Mmm-hmm, well, normally yes, but she owes me a favor,” Maxi said, winking at Kate. “What’s your budget? OK, let me make a call, and I’ll get right back to you. And the flowers and balloons will be delivered to the resort the day after tomorrow. Of course, and thank you for calling.”

  Grinning, Maxi hung up the phone. She scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Kate. “A couple with mucho bucks is celebrating their tenth anniversary. They honeymooned here during the Pirate Festival. So he wants to give her a pirate-themed anniversary costume party. Which means I’m making a big ol’ pirate ship out of carnations.”

  “You got a resort order?”

  “I got a resor
t order,” she said happily. “See, my flower garden business is blooming again.”

  “Sounds like you’re going to need a lot more flowers,” Kate said.

  “Si, but my next stop is the library. If I’m gonna build a giant ship out of flowers, I gotta see what a real pirate ship looks like.”

  “You already promised him you could do it, no problem,” Kate said, grinning.

  “I can do it no problem. I just gotta see what it is first. Corizon, when you run a shop, you learn on the job. And lesson number one is you never turn away business. Ay, I’ve been hanging out with the teachers too long.”

  “So what was the bit about a cake?”

  “He needs something that looks like pirate treasure, and he also wanted a big glitzy anniversary cake. So I advised that a treasure cake would be perfect. Naturally, I recommended this New York pastry chef I know. Booked solid, but probably willing to squeeze them in for the right price.”

  “Are you sure Sunny is the only one descended from a pirate?” Kate said.

  “Hey, those guys were all over the Caribbean. You never know.”

  Kate shook her head, laughing. “So what’s the job?”

  “A big fancy cake to serve twenty-five people the day after tomorrow. The good news is he’s a smart guy and he knows it’s a rush job, so he’s willing to pay mucho dinero. This is his name, cell number, and budget.”

  Kate looked at the paper and her eyes went wide. “OK, so I’m making a treasure cake. Thank you.”

  “De nada. Besides, if I gotta work late, you gotta work late.”

  “I was so worried about the Alvin stuff earlier I forgot to give you the good news,” Kate said, presenting the large bakery box. “Javie and Michael won the cookie of the day contest today. This is their prize.”

  Maxi cautiously opened the lid. Her face lit up. “Campout cookies. This will make my little pirates so happy. But this looks like a lot more than a dozen.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. I gave them a dozen each, and threw in another twelve for Elena. And I might have added a few for you to nibble before you get home. It sounds like parent-teacher conferences are a little stressful.”

  Maxi shook her head and grinned. “You have no idea,” she said, reaching in and delicately lifting a cookie out of the box. “When someone tells you you have a bright, energetic little boy—that’s code for ‘the little imp talks all the time and won’t sit still.’”

  “Gee, I wonder who he gets that from?” Kate said.

  “I know, right? Oh, chocolate. This makes it all better.” She held out the box to Kate, who took one. “So what’s this idea you had to find Teddy, like, right now?”

  “I thought we’d search for his social media accounts. If we find them—and if he’s been posting recently—then we pretty much know Teddy’s all right, and Alvin is someone else.

  “OK, that’s a super smart idea.”

  “That’s just the sugar rush talking.”

  “Esta volao,” Maxi said between bites. “I’d forgotten just how good these are.”

  “May I do the honors?” Kate asked, gesturing at Maxi’s desktop computer, set up against the wall on what looked like a small white antique desk.

  “If that means I get to sit here and eat cookies, por supuesto—of course,” Maxi said happily. “Try his Facebook account first. Mi mami loves Facebook. That’s how she and her ladies stay in touch—and share pictures of all their grandkids.”

  Kate seated herself in the desk chair and started typing. “R-a-n-d-o-l-p-h? And I’m going to try Teddy, Theodore, and Edward.”

  “Theodore A.,” Maxi said. “I don’t know why, but I’m betting the ‘A’ stands for Amos.”

  “Wow, when you set out to get information you really get information.”

  Maxi smiled.

  “Hey, here’s something. And the pictures look exactly like you described him. Shaggy dark hair, full beard, and more than a passing resemblance to a teddy bear.”

  Maxi pulled her chair around so that she could see the screen. “That’s him,” she said, pointing. “That’s Teddy. So when’s the last time he put something on his wall?”

  “Let me see,” Kate said, scanning the page. “Huh, that’s weird. All of these posts are old.”

  “How old?”

  Kate scanned the page with her left index finger, while she used the mouse in her right hand to move around the page.

  “February,” she said finally. “The last post he made was on February fourteenth.”

  Chapter 42

  Maxi’s face fell. She dropped the remains of her cookie into the wastepaper basket by her feet. “So what did he say? When he posted?”

  “‘Something big going down. And no shortage of the Benjamins! More later.’”

  Kate stared at the screen. “There’s a selfie, too. It looks like it was taken here in Coral Cay. Look,” she said, “you can just make out Amos’s store in the background.”

  “So he was here on Valentine’s Day, and then nothing,” Maxi said dejectedly. “Did anybody respond to his post?”

  “A string of heart emojis and a couple of flower emojis. And a couple of thumbs-up signs. And one of an arm making a muscle.” Kate shook her head. “The guy has an insane number of friends, though.”

  “It’s not his friends I’m worried about,” Maxi said. “Try Twitter. Maybe he gave up Facebook for a while.”

  Kate typed silently for a couple of minutes. “Here we go. @TeddyBearDolph. Wow—over twenty thousand followers. Oh, geez. Nothing since February fourteenth.”

  “What did he say then?” Maxi asked.

  “Well, that day he only tweeted twice. The first one says ‘send big hearts & good luck 2 ol T-bear—could really use it.’ And there’s a fingers crossed emoji. Then later, he tweets ‘sweet! big changes coming. can’t wait. stay tuned…’”

  Kate shook her head. “That’s his last message.”

  “Any photos?” Maxi asked hopefully.

  Kate nodded somberly. “A close-up of a hundred-dollar bill.”

  Chapter 43

  As Kate drizzled caramel over the first batch of sandies, she kept a close eye on the stainless-steel pot on the stove. Candied pecans could go from buttery to burned in no time flat. And another batch of chocolate crinkle cookies was cooling on the rack—just awaiting a last-minute dusting of powdered sugar.

  After Twitter and Facebook, the two of them had scoured a host of other social media platforms—everything from Instagram and YouTube to Tumblr and Pinterest. Teddy was active—and outrageously popular—on all of them. But from what they could find, he hadn’t posted anything anywhere after Valentine’s Day.

  Maxi wanted to march straight over to the Coral Cay police station the very minute they discovered that Teddy Randolph had disappeared from social media the same day he disappeared from Coral Cay.

  Kate reasoned that they could give it a few more hours. And that it might be better to chat with Ben in a less formal setting.

  Like a bakery.

  She almost didn’t care if he took them seriously. She was more worried about Amos. He was obviously close to Teddy.

  Kate didn’t believe for a minute that the grocer could hurt a fly. But there was clearly something going on there. Otherwise, why did he act so strange every time his nephew’s name came up? Had they had a disagreement and parted on bad terms? That would explain why Teddy just took off.

  Or, with the description of Alvin now circulating around town, had Amos begun to suspect that maybe something had happened to Teddy?

  The phone rang. Kate jumped.

  She grabbed a towel, lifted the candied pecans carefully off the stove, and poured the pan’s contents onto a baking sheet. She dropped the hot pot into the sink and snatched the phone off the wall.

  “The Cookie House, this is Kate.”

  “Ben’s car is coming up the block, and I’m on my way over,” Maxi said.

  “If you want to steer clear, I can handle this end of it,” Kate offered.


  “Nope, we’re in this together. Besides, I want to hear what else he’s learned about Alvin. Now that I’m pretty sure he’s not going to arrest me.”

  Kate snatched the shaker of powdered sugar and gave the crinkle cookies a generous coating. Then she arranged them on a platter and set the table with three clean mugs, plates, and white paper napkins.

  Somehow, she had a feeling that she and Maxi wouldn’t be eating.

  Her friend walked in the back door at the same moment she heard the shop bell.

  “You’re just in time,” she whispered, as Maxi settled herself at the table.

  “Hey, Sam.” Kate heard Ben’s booming baritone as she slipped the tray of pecans into the oven. “I’m supposed to meet Kate and Maxi to talk about a case. And I’d like to buy a loaf of the sourdough, if you’ve got any left.”

  “Think I can find one,” Sam replied. “You want that sliced?”

  As the men chatted—Kate caught a reference to the Marlins game—she filled the mugs with steaming coffee.

  “Corizon, do you know what you’re going to say?”

  “Pretty much. Keep it simple. This is just a tip. Nothing more.”

  “What’s a tip?” Ben said, appearing at the kitchen door with a large wax-paper bag in one hand.

  He removed his Panama hat. “Ladies.”

  “We already poured you a cup,” Maxi said.

  “And there are some cookies on the table,” Kate added.

  “Why do I have the feeling this is a setup?” Ben Abrams said, surveying the neatly laid table with a skeptical eye.

  He put his hat and bag on the table, relaxed into a chair, took a sip of coffee, and let out a long sigh. “First time I’ve had a chance to sit down all day. OK, ladies, shoot. What is it? Because right now, you’re both making me very nervous.”

  “We might have a tip on the identity of Alv … I mean, the skeleton from the backyard,” Kate said.

  “I’m listening,” the detective said, reaching for the closest cookie on the platter.