by Sarah Hualde
“And why do they keep getting away with it,” Kat added.
Maude shifted in her seat. “Santi and I haven’t pressed charges. Until now, no one has been hurt.”
“Until now? You mean, you think Vikki’s death was due to sabotage?” Flora asked.
Maude lifted her hands in frustration. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t want to believe anyone I know could have poisoned someone else. Scooby didn’t do it, I’m certain.”
“Do the police know what was poisoned exactly?” Lydia asked.
Maude nodded. “I’m sorry I thought Lydia’s nephew would have told you. Her Irish Coffee. The mug was covered in residue.”
“Residue of what?”
“Rat poison.”
“It’s a smart choice. The coffee would have hidden the bitter taste. Plus, the alcohol would have masked early symptoms,” Kat said. The three other ladies looked at her. “What? I’ve grown interested in medicines and poisons. Ever since Honey Pot had its own drug ring, I’ve wanted to know what I should be on the lookout for and what is normal.”
Lydia frowned in thought. “Makes sense.”
Maude’s eyes grew large and round. “I thought Honey Pot was a safe haven.”
“So, did we,” Flora and Kat said at the same time.
“Scooby was questioned because he was the one who made the drink. Though he wasn’t supposed to be making drinks,” Maude said.
“Why not?” Flora and Kat chimed.
“He’s not of age. But Dave was being nice,” Maude whispered. “For once, Santi and I let it go. I don’t think Scooby knew whose drink he was making.” Maude wiped at her eyes. “He was just happy to be learning something new.”
“Then he was the one who served it,” Lydia said, recalling the evening.
“Yes. But then your nephew brought it from the patio to the lounge.” Maude’s tone was absent of judgment. She too was merely stating facts not accusing anyone.
Lydia couldn’t help but smile. She was happy Maude’s sharp mind and loving heart was on her side. “But that doesn’t explain why questioning took so long. Neither boy was near the lounge when Ms. Winters died.”
“And that’s where Mrs. Sky was hanging out,” Kat said.
Lydia tapped her foot. “Which was strange, since just a moment before Vikki was scolding Mrs. Sky in the bathroom.”
“I didn’t know that,” Maude said.
“You were busy with Scooby, outside.” Lydia and Maude exchanged knowing looks of building concern.
Flora’s phone rang, startling them all. She scrolled to see who was calling. “It’s Kevin. Enoch needs me.” Kat rose to stand with Flora. She stretched her back. “I’ve got to go,” Flora said. “The burden of motherhood, you’re always on call.”
“Burden? My eye.” Kat scoffed and scooped up her family’s missing jackets. “You live for it.”
“You’re right.” Flora giggled. Lydia caught Maude’s expression deflate. It was a slight adjustment, but Lydia noticed.
Maude desperately wanted children. Her wistfulness was obvious. That explained her and Santi’s great affection for each of their employees and why they were so protective of Scooby.
“I’ll walk her back,” Kat said. “Would you like me to take a couple of bags with me?” Kat gestured toward the small pile of gifts.
“Sure,” Lydia said. “Thanks.” Kat took half the presents and escorted Flora out of Con Fuego, waving behind her.
Lydia took a moment to readjust to the quietness. She settled in the chair across from Maude.
“I'm glad they're gone,” Maude said, surprising Lydia. “They’re wonderful ladies, but you and I are in this in a different way. We’re both fighting for our families.”
Lydia was relieved she didn’t have to bridge the elephant in the room. Maude just spat it out. Lydia replied with the same no-nonsense approach. “I know Charles didn’t do this. And I believe you know Scooby didn't do this either.”
“Yes, but they are both suspects,” Maude said.
“So, why don’t we promise each other we’ll drop our right to be offended at the door and speak frankly?”
Maude’s twinkle slowly resurfaced. “Agreed. I think the only way we can get to the bottom of who killed Ms. Winters is by joining forces.”
“It's a deal then?”
“Deal.” Lydia and Maude took a moment to hold hands and pray before they ripped off the Band-Aid of politeness and got down to business.
Chapter 20
IVY AND JOAN HAD PLAYED cards with the boys and allowed the girls to do their hair. When Flora returned, Ivy’s medium-length blond hair was up in at least twenty clips, and Joan’s brown long hair hosted multiple misshapen plaits. Flora swallowed her chuckle. She appreciated the older girls mentoring the younger ones. But their hair was hilarious.
Kevin and Thad sat reading on the couch. Kevin rocked Enoch. The baby turned beet red and started shrieking as soon as he recognized his mother’s presence. Kevin jumped to his feet and planted the angry elfish baby into his mama’s arms. Enoch let a particularly exaggerated wail rattle through the townhouse. He was livid and wanted the entire household to know it.
“Oh, hush Mister,” his mom whispered. “I’m here. I’m here.” The baby burbled and curled into Flora’s arms. She carried him over to Joan and Ivy. “Why don’t you two take off for a little while? I’m going to feed this guy and we will regroup for lunch.”
“Are you sure?” Joan and Ivy asked, hoping Flora didn’t change her mind.
“The dads are here. They’ll help me.”
“Right,” both girls said.
Joan looked over at Kevin and Thad. She had many years of experience having the dads watch the kids. Joan carted her belongings to the back room. She could only anticipate the mess that she and Ivy would return to later.
Ivy snagged the baby monitor from the dresser. Scout snored in the portable crib. Her midmorning nap had at least an hour left. Ivy wasn’t going out of range of the monitor, but a break from the house sounded amazing.
Joan snagged bottles of water and led Ivy out to the fountain. It was chilly out but not raining. The girls sat, encased in their hoodies, by the dormant fountain. The noises of the courtyard weren’t as abrasive on the nerves as the decibel rollercoaster that was three giggling girls and two wrestling boys.
Joan cleared her throat. Ivy read her signal. Things were about to get real. She was going to get into a deep talk, again. Or at least try to start a deep conversation. Ivy didn’t want to talk about Grant or her nightmares. She wanted to talk about the murder. But Joan wasn’t as gifted as her mother at bringing the clues forward.
Ivy hoped she didn’t miss out on the mystery conversation. She and Flora were normally relegated to childcare duty and didn’t get into the thick of things. But during the last mystery, when she met Grant Justice, her pen pal beau, Ivy had been much more involved. It was weird how much a taste of the adventure affected her.
Joan rasped again. Ivy shot her sea-green eyes toward Joan’s face. “Where’d you go?”
“Just zoned out,” Ivy said.
“The quiet is nice.”
Ivy agreed. “I’m not sure how moms do it.”
“Do what?”
“Keep their sanity while the world echoes around them.”
Joan shrugged. “You do it.”
“I only have Scout,” Ivy said.
“Do you think you’ll ever have more?” Joan twisted the lid from her plastic bottle and took a deep drink.
Ivy’s eyes trailed away again. She saw herself alone as a child. It felt like she was always alone. Mom was either around and worried or hiding Ivy away. There were good memories, feelings more than factual recountings of Ivy snuggling with her mother.
Ivy’s mother would read to her or sing to her in hushed tones. Ivy relished the feeling of safety these memories replayed. They were islands of hope in a tumultuous childhood. Ivy wanted Scout’s memories filled with moments like those. She hoped they d
efined Scout’s childhood.
Ivy had often wished she had a sibling to share in her loneliness. But even in grade school, she noticed older siblings had to constantly defend their younger counterparts. Ivy didn’t know if she would have had the strength to do that as a child. She had a difficult time keeping herself safe, and she’d failed to keep her mom from harm.
Joan put a hand on Ivy’s knee and prayed. Her friend was crying but hadn’t seemed to notice. Just like when she was asleep, Ivy’s sadness crept up on her in her most simple moments. Joan waited it out.
“Why is she crying,” a male voice sounded behind Joan.
Joan chunked her bottle of water into the air. Without its lid, the water shot into the sky and back down on the chatting young women. Ivy laughed in surprise. She tossed her wet hoodie off her head and set the newcomer to laughing as well. Ivy patted her head and Joan did the same.
“Our hair.” The girls’ laughed.
“Yes, what is with your hair?” Scooby scampered to retrieve the discarded bottle and placed it in a nearby trash bin.
“I’M NOT SURE WHAT THE deal is with Vikki and Charles. I haven’t gotten a moment to discuss things with anyone. Harrison avoided the conversation when I brought it up. Then Vikki was dead and the subject became taboo,” Lydia started the conversation. “I know Charles has a sweetheart and that it’s serious. I know Calvin has been trying to make peace between Harrison and Charles since Vikki arrived. But no one will tell me where it all started.”
Maude frowned. She looked around her sad restaurant. Stefan paced the dining room, and Dave occasionally spoke to him. Santi never came out of the kitchen. They were allowed to do basic cleaning but were still asked not to touch much.
“My story is similar. Scooby came to us a couple of years ago. He needed help. He’d been kicked out of his living situation, which wasn’t wonderful. He was basically a runaway. Though he says he has no real family. He did talk about a woman he used to live with,” Maude said.
“Like an informal foster mom?”
Maude shook her head. “No, like a girlfriend. The details are fuzzy. But I believe she was a great deal older than Scooby. He mentions her in passing but clams up if I ask about her.”
Lydia sighed. Even though Maude was willing to share, both of the ladies were at an impasse in their personal investigations. There was nothing more to dig into. Except for the Skies.
“Tell me about Con Fuego’s previous owners,” Lydia said.
AFTER EXPLAINING THEIR newest fashion statements, Joan and Ivy greeted Scooby with hearty hellos. Scooby warmed with the welcome. “So, is everything okay?”
“You mean besides the murder investigation surrounding us all,” Joan said.
Scooby’s smile sank. “I’m trying to forget about that.”
“I know how you feel,” Ivy said.
Their eyes locked, passing understanding from a hidden place in their hearts. The wounded recognized their own kind. Ivy marveled at how she kept coming in contact with more damaged people.
Besides Joan and Grant, all of her friends had some sort of sordid history. None had escaped childhood untainted. She didn’t have to talk to Scooby to be drawn to his pain. By his hopeful sadness, she knew he felt the same about her. They were spirit siblings in suffering.
“So, it’s like that,” Scooby said. “And you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Do you?” Ivy countered.
Scooby shrugged. “Sometimes it helps. At least that’s what Maude tells me. I’ve never found the right person to share it with.”
Joan followed the conversation. Was Ivy going to open up to Scooby? But not to her? Was Grant about to find himself in a competition for Ivy’s heart? In fifteen seconds, Joan saw more unspoken feelings transfer between Scooby and Ivy than she’d ever witnessed. She couldn’t help but feel a little left out of the loop.
“Do you mind speaking with words?” Joan asked. “I’m obviously the only one here without telepathy.”
Scooby’s sidewise nervous grin resurfaced. Ivy blushed. “Sorry,” she said.
“What was it like to be questioned by the police?” Joan asked bluntly.
“It’s horrible,” Scooby said. “Just hope it never happens to you.”
Joan chortled. “It happens to me almost every day. My dad is a sheriff.”
Scooby curled into himself. “Mrs. Lydia’s husband? I didn’t know,” he said.
“That’s different,” Ivy said. “I get it.”
Scooby dug his hands into his pockets. His lip quivered in the cold. “It’s like they already have you pegged as a bad guy. Before they even start talking. I felt like everything I said brought me closer to getting arrested.”
Ivy sympathized with Scooby. “I can’t imagine.” Scooby rubbed his hands together, blowing on them to keep warm. “Where’s your bright jacket?”
Scooby pouted. “I’m not sure where I left it. Maybe at the station. But I’m not about to go back there, willingly.”
“They questioned my cousin, too,” Joan said.
“Yes, I know,” Scooby said. “I guess his prints and mine were the only two on the lady’s coffee mug. Other than her own, that is.”
“Why does that matter,” Ivy said.
Scooby shot a quizzical glance to Ivy. “Because that’s how she was poisoned.”
“With a cup?” Joan blinked.
“With a cup of coffee,” Scooby and Ivy said.
Scooby half-smiled. “Irish Coffee to be exact,” he said. “I brought it to her.”
Ivy chewed the side of her cheek. “You served it?”
“Yes. Dave helped me make it. But then I accidentally slammed into Stefan when I went to deliver it. Dave was not pleased.” Scooby played a dangling thread on his shirt cuff.
“I can imagine,” Ivy said. A blast of static rattled through Ivy’s end of the baby monitor. She pulled it from her pocket and listened. Scout burbled but settled. “She drifted back to sleep.”
Joan turned to Scooby. “Did the police question Dave?”
“They questioned all of us. I just got a bonus round.”
“Like Charles,” Ivy said.
“The last two people to touch the cup,” Joan surmised.
“Besides Vikki,” Ivy said.
Chapter 21
MAUDE STAMMERED AS she detailed the escapades of the Sky family. It was obvious she didn’t like smearing their name, even if they were guilty of sabotage. “The first time they sprinkled dog hair in their paella. We searched all the other trays and plates and didn’t find anything. Mr. Sky made a big scene and left. It cost us about three comped meals, not including theirs. Then they tossed a cockroach in their flan. We dumped the entire batch. It wasn’t cheap.”
“Did you confront them?” Lydia swirled a finger in the condensation of her water bottle.
Maude sighed and put her feet up on the chair beside her. “Yes and no. The first time we didn’t have any proof. The second time we had a witness.”
“Who?”
“Scooby. But he wasn’t exactly reliable. He’d just gotten out of juvenile detention. We didn’t want to push him to go to the police with us,” Maude said.
“So, what did you do?” Lydia asked.
“Santi talked with them. Pleaded with them. We both tried to understand where they were coming from.” Maude straightened her apron. “And then we set up security cameras.”
Lydia scanned the corner of the patio. Tiny cameras stuck out behind plants and peeked out from lighting decorations. She squinted into the main dining room and spotted the camera at first glance. “Did they help?”
“Sort of. We had proof the next time they tried something. This time they claimed we had a vermin infestation. They called health and safety. We were shut down for a week as a precaution. That was after we showed them the security videos.”
“And you still refused to press charges?” Lydia asked.
“We went to our preacher for advice. Then we set up a counseling session with
the Skies. We tried using a mediator for the incident first. But I never expected they’d risk killing someone to shut us down. In fact, I still don’t believe they did.”
“But other than Scooby,”
“And your nephew.”
“There aren't any other suspects,” the women said. They stared at the ceiling contemplating their next move.
Maude plopped her foot on the ground and huffed loudly. “My goodness, I wish I’d brought dessert. I could really use a cinnamon roll!’
Lydia stood and stretched. “I can understand the feeling.” She draped all the coats over her arm. “In the meantime, I’m going to get back to my family and see if a hot shower and a good pot of coffee can help me think. Maybe I’ll find some way to put this mess back together.”
Maude walked Lydia to the back door in time to see Scooby shuffle inside. Maude’s face brightened at seeing her young ward. She offered Lydia a half hug and unlocked the door. “Call me, and I’ll help anytime I can.”
“I will. You don’t mind me sharing information with my girlfriends, do you?” Lydia asked.
Maude paused. She did mind but needed the help. “If you trust them, then I guess I do.”
“Great. We’ll get working on it.”
LYDIA LISTENED AS MAUDE secured the back door to Con Fuego. She hoisted the coats over her shoulder. They were heavier than she thought they would be. Lydia jostled under their weight. With another stagger and lift, Lydia finally found balance. At the same time, a tiny clink sounded from the asphalt.
In her peripherals, Lydia spotted a shiny rolling object. Squatting awkwardly to keep the coats off the ground, Lydia duck walked over to the scattered item. She tapped her palm beneath her until she located the object. She lifted it before her face and instantly realized what it was she held.
“Vikki’s engagement ring.” Lydia gasped.
Chapter 22
