by Gale Deitch
She sat up straighter, and her red-ringed eyes seemed to clear in front of me. “They can give me all the ultimatums they want. But I’m going to keep this baby. It’s all I have left of Micah. I’ll find a way.”
I smiled at her. “I know you will.”
After confirming the menu with Gus and making sure we were fully staffed, I headed for Charmaine’s, not only to find a dress for the gala, but also to quell my curiosity about Daniel’s relationship with this woman.
A bell tinkled as I opened the door and stepped through the entryway. The shop seemed empty with just a few dresses displayed on mannequins and absolutely no racks of clothing. Where were all the dresses?
The woman who emerged from the back room had a beautifully coiffed head of silver hair and a creamy complexion. She wore a raspberry and gray knit dress and jacket, well-tailored and obviously expensive. This woman might have been in her fifties and couldn’t have been the woman I’d imagined owned this shop.
“I’m looking for Charmaine,” I said.
She greeted me with a wide smile and both hands extended. “I’m Charmaine. And you must be Trudie.”
I exhaled my relief as I realized Daniel couldn’t have had a relationship with this much older woman. “Uh, yes. I am.” I glanced around for other customers, but none were in sight.
“Daniel explained your situation and a little about you. I’ve already pulled some formal gowns for you to look at. Come, sit down and I’ll bring them out to you. Monet,” she called over her shoulder.
Charmaine led me to a white leather sofa, and Monet, a younger petite woman, brought me a glass of white wine. After a couple of minutes, Charmaine appeared with two gowns, one a gold-sequined and body-hugging gown and the other a royal blue Grecian style, and hung them on a rack next to the sofa.
“What do you think?” Charmaine asked.
“Th-they’re beautiful.” I’d never been in a shop like this with such magnificent clothing, and I wondered if any of her dresses would fit my short, plump body.
“Hmm,” she said, holding each one next to me. “No, this gold won’t do with your complexion. And the blue is definitely the wrong style for you. I think I have just the one for you, Trudie.”
Monet returned the two dresses to the back, and Charmaine emerged with two more. “Actually,” she said. “I think it’s between the two of these. They’ll both work with your lovely dark hair. Let’s try them.” She escorted me to the dressing room and, understanding my discomfort with her presence in the room, stepped outside and waited until I was ready.
The first was a pure white, dreamy gown with a sweetheart neckline and tiny crystals that sugared the bodice.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Charmaine effused into the mirror after I’d put it on.
“Yes, but…” I wasn’t sure what it was that bothered me about this dress, as beautiful as it looked on me.
Charmaine understood instantly. She smiled. “You’re right, Trudie. This color is for that special day every woman looks forward to.”
How did she know what had disturbed me when I hadn’t even realized it?
I slipped out of the white dress and stepped into a shimmering emerald green with a plunging neckline. I looked into the mirror and gasped. It was perfect—the color, the style. Charmaine nodded. “This is the one. Monet, let’s pin up the hem. We’ll have it ready for you on Tuesday morning. Is that all right?”
“Absolutely. I can’t believe you’ll have it ready so quickly. But I’m concerned about Daniel paying for this dress. He lives pretty modestly on a detective’s salary. I’d like to at least pay half.”
She put her hand on mine and gave me a reassuring smile, “Honey, don’t worry. I’m only charging Daniel my cost. He’s been a good friend to me.”
That gave me the opening I needed to ask the question my curiosity had wanted to squeeze out like a tube of tomato paste. “How is it that you know Daniel?”
She colored just as Daniel had.
“It’s a long story. Daniel saved me from my abusive husband. He’d been out to my house more than a few times responding to nine-one-one calls from me or from my neighbors. Even a restraining order couldn’t keep that louse of a husband away. In fact, it only made him angrier and more violent. Let’s just say if Daniel hadn’t arrived when he did that last time, I wouldn’t be here now. He helped put that monster away for many years. I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”
“I’m so glad he was able to help you,” I said, still wondering why this story would cause either of them discomfort. Looking at Charmaine close up, I realized she was younger than I’d thought on first glance, her complexion smooth and dewy without a wrinkle in sight, her hair a premature gray that shone like silk. I wondered what the real nature of their relationship had been.
She took my hands in hers. “Thank you, Trudie. And I’m so glad you are blessed with a man like Daniel. Don’t ever let him go.”
ENTERING MY OFFICE at A Fine Fix was like coming home. Living for the most part at Daniel’s house, occasionally at my parents’ house and currently at May’s house, I’d been feeling like a woman without a country. It was nice to be back at my catering company with my partner Zach, who was like family to me.
“Hey, Zach,” I called out to the warehouse where we kept all our supplies and prepped our food.
“Hi, Trudie. Come on out here. The cupcakes are cool enough to decorate now.”
I stepped down from the office into our work area. Zach had made cupcakes in the three flavors the bride had chosen, chocolate, vanilla and pistachio, to match her decor. I washed my hands, slid my apron over my head and tied it in the back, then began to make my basic icing using powdered sugar, vanilla, milk and softened butter. After we divided the icing, tinted and flavored it in various ways, Zach and I stood side by side piping the frosting onto the cupcakes. I turned my head to peer at him. This was the way I liked to cook: next to the person I enjoyed cooking with most in the place I loved to cook. I sighed at the peaceful calm as we worked together. Nothing like Maybelline’s. This was home.
“So how’s it going at the restaurant?” Zach asked, breaking my mood.
“It’s going fine. Just trying to keep all my plates spinning at the same time.”
“Found your murderer yet?” he asked, as if he were inquiring about the weather.
I stopped piping and looked at Zach. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, isn’t that why May wanted you to manage her restaurant? To spy on her staff?”
I stood up taller and put my shoulders back. “Not entirely. She wanted me to make sure her restaurant ran smoothly.”
“And is it?”
“I guess so.” I bent over the counter again and resumed decorating the cupcakes.
“So how long are you expected to do this detective work?”
“Zach, it’s not detective work. I’m just a neutral observer. And I should be done soon. May is having Micah’s memorial service tomorrow afternoon at the restaurant. I suppose she’ll be back at work on Monday, and things will get back to normal.”
“Back to normal?” he asked, turning his head to me. “With a murderer on the loose? I don’t think so.”
“Can we change the subject? I was enjoying the peace and quiet of being here with you, just the two of us, cooking together. Why did you have to go and ruin it?”
“That’s exactly why I’m bringing it up.” Zach laid his piping cone down on the counter and wiped his hands with a dish towel. He paused a moment until I stopped working and looked up at him. He glanced away and then back it me, as if trying to find the right words. “Trudie, I want to have many more years of cooking with you, just the two of us. But I’m scared to death that the murderer is going to make another move, and you’re going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m worried about you.”
“It’s okay, Zach. It will all be over soon.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
Chapter Eleven
> Dinner service at Maybelline’s went smoothly that evening. There was no drama among the staff, no annoying customers, and no menacing hoodlums showing up to bully anyone into paying protection money. Katie seemed to have calmed down and served her tables with an air of friendly professionalism that always charmed her customers.
Even so, I had an unnatural sense that something was not quite right amid the serenity, like the sensation on my tongue and palate when a dish I am preparing is missing something, and I can’t figure out what that seasoning is. A glance around the restaurant, however, indicated everyone hard at work doing their jobs and nothing amiss.
At eleven, I kept my eye on the door, waiting for Daniel to arrive to follow me home. Instead, in walked his father. “Sorry, Trudie. Daniel was held up at work, so I offered to take his place. Hope it’s all right with you.”
“I’m delighted, Mr…I mean, Stu.” And in fact, I was delighted, because I had wondered when I’d get the chance to speak with him alone. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
He nodded his head and grinned, the quirk of his mouth so much like that of his son’s catching me off guard. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”
I looked around for an area where we could have some privacy but realized that even a corner table or a stool at the bar would engender curious eyes and ears among the staff. “Why don’t we go to the coffee shop on the corner. It’s open late.”
“Sure, Trudie.”
I felt a surge of freedom as Stu held the door open for me and we exited the restaurant. Managing May’s restaurant and her staff had become a nerve-wracking chore, one I hoped would be over in a day or two. As we walked, I tried to clear my head and focus on what I would tell him and how. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to undermine Daniel, only that I needed him to be an unbiased sounding board and someone who could advise me.
We entered the shop and slipped into a back booth. At this hour, only a couple of lone coffee-drinkers occupied other tables.
A middle-aged waitress, wearing one of those retro pink dresses with buttons down the front, strode over to our table soundlessly in her rubber-soled shoes. “What can I get you?” She pulled a pad and pencil from her apron pocket.
I hadn’t thought what I might order. The day had been long with very little time to eat since breakfast at Daniel’s house. I surveyed the menu. “I’ll have a cup of coffee and a piece of lemon meringue pie.” I looked up at Stu.
“Same for me,” he told her. “Except decaf. At my age, sleep doesn’t come easy.”
She’d probably heard that a thousand times, but still chuckled. Stu had one of those easy personalities people are drawn to, and I smiled to myself, happy that this man was Daniel’s father and looking forward to getting to know him better.
As she walked away, I leaned closer to Stu, and he nodded for me to begin my story. Since the waitress didn’t know me, I wasn’t worried she might overhear our conversation. Nevertheless, I spoke quietly. “First of all, I’m telling you this because you’re not actually a cop anymore and also because you were a cop. On the one hand, I shouldn’t tell you, but then I absolutely should.” I looked into Stu’s face for comprehension. “Am I making any sense at all?”
He shook his head. “Clear as mud. Why don’t you start with the thing you should tell me, the retired cop.”
I smiled. “Okay. In a nutshell, there are these guys who’ve been trying to extort protection money from May. They’ve been working the whole block, tormenting all the businesses, and everyone’s been paying them off. Daniel may have overheard May yelling at Micah about them the other night. I’m not sure.”
“And no one’s reported them? They must be some tough cookies, eh? I know the type.” He shifted his eyes to the left to let me know the waitress was approaching. Sure enough, she arrived with a tray of our coffee, a stirrer in Stu’s cup to indicate it was decaf, and two mile-high pieces of pie.
“Great texture on the meringue,” I commented approvingly. “Who makes your pies?”
“The owner of the shop. Comes in at five-thirty every morning. Makes it all in-house--pies, cakes, biscuits, scones, you name it.”
I slipped my fork down through the stiff meringue, the lemon filling and the flaky crust and sampled it. I closed my eyes in rapture then opened them wide. “Outstanding. My compliments to your baker. How late is he here every day?”
“She, not he. Jennifer Hall. Here ‘til about two after most of the lunch crowd is gone. I’ll be sure to tell her you liked it.”
I pulled out a card. “I’m a caterer and looking for a good pastry chef to help periodically with certain jobs. Please give her my card, and I’ll be in touch to speak with her and maybe sample more of her delicacies.”
The waitress slipped the card into her apron pocket and turned to walk away, the rubber soles of her shoes, not so silent as I’d thought, squeaking with each step. One of the other patrons, a slouching man probably in his seventies, approached the cash register to pay his tab and then left.
“Hm,” Stu said. “Wonder if the owner here’s been getting the push to pay up, too. Wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Me either. They’ve been throwing their weight around pretty well for the past few months. So far, May has been able to hold them off just by standing up to them, but her brother Micah tried to deal with them to keep them from trashing the restaurant. They were there the night he was murdered. Then they came back last night and tried to rough up Gus, the head chef.” I didn’t mention to Stu how I had stepped out into the alley to confront the tough guys. I’d realized how stupid it was the moment I’d done it.
Stu nodded as I spoke then asked, “Can’t you talk May into reporting them to the police?”
I shook my head. “I’ve tried. She thinks calling in the authorities will rile these guys up and they’ll come one night and destroy her restaurant. But she refuses to pay them off, either. She’s made me promise not to tell Daniel.”
The light came on in Stu’s eyes. “I see. So instead, you’re coming to Daniel’s father, the ex-cop, since you made no promises to May about me. Correct?”
I exhaled. Just being able to tell someone else lightened the heaviness around my heart. Even so, I still felt as if I had broken my promise to May. But I just couldn’t stand by in silence and watch what these guys were doing. “What do you think I should do?”
“You just did it, Trudie. Let me take it from here. I’ve seen my share of thugs like this around Philly.”
“Are you going to tell Daniel?” I asked.
“Better if you don’t know.” He patted my hand. “Don’t worry, Trudie. You did the right thing. And you didn’t break your promise to May. Right?”
“Technically, I didn’t tell Daniel even though I knew she meant not to tell the police.”
“You didn’t tell the police,” Stu said, cutting a piece of pie with the side of his fork. Before taking a bite, he glanced up at me. “It’s okay, honey. Believe me, you did the right thing.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Stu. I’m relieved to have this weight off of me. I just hope I can look May in the eye. By the way, why don’t you come to the memorial service for Micah tomorrow afternoon? Daniel’s coming. An objective observer might notice something we’ve missed.”
“Okay. Just the thought of getting a glimpse of the crime scene and some of the players is getting my cop juices flowing.”
I noticed the same glimmer in his eyes that Daniel got when confronted with a new case.
“Ready to go?”
“Am I ever,” he said.
Stu followed me to May’s house. Her street was so narrow that, with cars parked on both sides, only one car could drive through at a time. I spotted an opening across the street and down a few houses from May’s and, as usual, struggled with my parallel parking, working the car back and forth to get close enough to the curb.
Stu waited patiently, totally blocking the road from any through traffic. The car that pulled up behind him honk
ed a few times to get him to move. I waved to Stu for him to go on, but he shook his head and wouldn’t budge. The car behind him honked again, three short beeps.
Still attempting to get into the space, I yelled to Stu through my open window. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”
The other driver expressed his anger by holding his hand down on the horn for a long, loud blast.
Stu pulled up closer and yelled, “I’ll just go around the block and come back. When you’ve parked, don’t get out of the car. Keep your doors locked and wait for me. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes. “For sushi’s sake,” I mumbled under my breath. “I’m just going to walk across the street to May’s house. It’s not a big deal.” Even so, I was touched that Stu felt this responsibility to his son to protect me.
Of course, the moment he rounded the corner, I wedged my car snugly into the parking space. I rolled up the windows, turned off the ignition and waited. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I pulled out my phone, but decided not to call Daniel until I was in the house and wouldn’t be interrupted. I waited some more. No Stu. How long did he expect me to wait? I looked down the street and could see the lights on in May’s house. It was so close, and I had to pee. Where was Stu?
A few street lights illuminated the area, and I didn’t see a soul outside, no one walking a dog and or getting in or out of their car and no one lurking behind a house waiting to pounce on me. This was a safe neighborhood, as far as I knew.
That was it. I couldn’t wait any longer. I gathered my purse and keys and got out of my car, the little orange Honda Civic I’d driven since college. As I closed and locked the door, a car squealed its way around the corner and accelerated toward me, its brights turned on, making it impossible for me to even identify the vehicle. Was that Stu coming back? But why was he going so fast? It occurred to me that the car was not going to stop and was heading right for me. There was no time to get back into my car, and the street was so narrow that, at the speed it was approaching, I could easily be hit. In fact, there was no way that car could avoid hitting me.
