“I might know the man who died,” Oliver said. “What was his name?”
“Jake Smith. He was new in town, so you probably don’t know him.” Franetta leaned forward in her seat. “Now, what was everyone’s favorite part of the festival?”
As they chatted about the booths and events, Val circulated again with the trays. Franetta’s ability to change the subject with lightning speed kept Jake’s death out of the conversation.
With more dinner prep to do, Val left the appetizers on the coffee table. Thatcher Frost seized the conversation ball again to talk about his favorite subject—himself.
She walked back to the kitchen, understanding why Franetta filled her evenings with volunteer work. Anything to get away from that man. She had talked up a storm at meetings and at the tea last night, maybe because she had little chance to exercise her vocal cords at home.
Later, when everyone was at the dining table, Thatcher had less to say. He focused on eating, taking second helpings of everything.
Val was too busy to pay attention to the table talk until she was serving the dessert. After everyone sang “Happy Birthday,” she took the cake from the table, put it on the buffet, and removed the candles Oliver had blown out.
“I don’t feel older than yesterday,” he said, “but I’ve reached an age when I should set things right or I might die before I get the chance.”
“Don’t be so gloomy, Dad,” Cyndi said. “You’ve got years ahead of you.”
“On another subject and since we’re all together,” Elaine said, “I have an announcement. I’m getting married in February. It’ll be a small wedding, but you’re all invited.”
Her knife poised over the cake, Val glanced sideways at the family. They looked stunned. She concentrated on cutting the cake and putting slices onto plates.
Franetta broke the silence by clapping. “Of course we’ll come. Wonderful news! Congratulations.”
“February!” Oliver said. “I’d think it was a shotgun wedding except that you’re too old for that.” He and Thatcher laughed, but no one else did. Then Oliver patted Elaine’s hand. “I’m happy for you. Who’s the lucky guy? That Navy fellow from Annapolis you brought here once?”
Elaine nodded. “Scott. He was here more than once.”
Cyndi said, “So that’s why you’re moving away.”
Val put a slice of cake in front of Oliver.
He didn’t even glance at it. He turned to Elaine. “Moving away?”
“Scott just retired. Years ago he bought a house on the coast of North Carolina, and that’s where we’ll be living.” She leaned toward her father. “I’ll drive up to visit you, of course. And Cyndi will be coming to see you more often.”
“Absolutely,” Kevin said. “We’ll both be here for you.”
Franetta nodded. “So will we. You can rely on us if you need help with anything.”
Thatcher spoke up. “When this place gets to be too much for you, let us know. Our son would definitely be interested in buying it as a weekend place.”
Oliver smiled and gazed around the table at his family and friends. “Thank you. I’ll manage here . . . with help from my new wife. Iska agreed to marry me.”
Cyndi dropped her fork. It hit her plate with a clatter.
Val delivered the last piece of cake and sidled back to the kitchen. The Naimans probably didn’t want outsiders around for the fallout from Oliver’s bombshell. Franetta and Thatcher must have had the same thought. They finished dessert quickly, said a quick goodbye, and left. But Val couldn’t do that. She still had to clean up after the dinner, an easier mess to tackle than the one the family faced.
At least this dinner, unlike the tea last evening, hadn’t ended in murder.
Chapter 8
While Val loaded the dishwasher in the Naiman kitchen, the family in the dining room couldn’t see her, but she could hear them.
Cyndi was the first to speak after the neighbors left. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about getting married, Dad. Mom has been gone less than two years. You’re old enough to be Iska’s grandfather.”
“You’re not helping,” her husband said quietly to her.
Val agreed. Cyndi’s attempt to guilt-trip her father might backfire.
“I loved your mother,” Oliver said. “Still do. When she was sick, Iska was there day and night. Afterward, she helped me deal with my grief. She took care of us, and I’d like to take care of her too. I want to give her some security so she’ll be okay once I’m gone. It’s the least I can do.”
“We’re all grateful to Iska,” Elaine said. “But you can take care of her without marrying her. Remember her in your will and leave her some cash.”
Val wondered how that idea would go over with Cyndi. She’d probably object less to the cost of a retirement village if the alternative was her father’s marriage.
Oliver shook his head. “Money can’t buy the kind of security she needs. When she marries me, she’ll be an American citizen.”
Kevin chimed in. “It’s not automatic. If the feds think that’s the reason for the marriage, they won’t confer citizenship.”
“It’s not the reason we’re getting married,” Oliver shouted. “We love each other.”
“I have no doubt you love Iska.” Elaine’s voice was quiet, her tone soothing. “But I need to tell you something about her. When I was at the festival yesterday morning, I noticed her doing something that surprised me. I took a picture of her with my phone. I think you should see it. She was kissing a young man.”
“Could be her brother or cousin,” Oliver snapped.
“Look closely at the picture, Dad,” Elaine said. “That’s not a brotherly kiss.”
A long silence followed. Val shifted her position so she could see the table. Cyndi looked over Oliver’s shoulder while he peered at the phone. Then he slapped it down on the table.
“I’ve had enough of this birthday,” he roared. “I’m going to bed.”
The wood floors squeaked as he made his way to the hall stairs. Val scurried back to the sink, her stomach churning. She felt sorry for all of them.
Elaine groaned. “I hated doing that, especially on his birthday. We’re lucky he didn’t elope with Iska. The only bright spot is that he may be more willing to move into the retirement village if she’s not in the picture.”
“Did you have any idea before tonight what was going on between them?” Kevin said.
“Lately I noticed Iska teasing him in a flirty way, and he seemed to like it. Last week he wanted to know where Mom’s jewelry box was, and he never asked that before. I’m just glad I took that picture when I spotted her yesterday. I don’t think Dad would have believed me without the photographic evidence.”
Val gave Elaine points for evasiveness. She’d made it sound as if she’d been near Iska by chance, rather than by doggedly following her, as Granddad had reported.
“Should I go up to make sure he’s okay?” Kevin said. “The photo shocked him. We don’t want him to harm himself.”
“Yes, check on him,” Elaine said. “Make sure he stays in his room. If he doesn’t go to sleep right away, sit and talk with him. I don’t want him downstairs when Iska comes back. I have a plan to deal with her, and you’ll both have to help.”
“Kevin and I need to leave soon,” Cyndi said. “I have an early flight to Chicago tomorrow. All I want to do is go home and go to sleep.”
“You can’t leave yet, Cyndi. Take the suitcase from the closet in Iska’s room and pack her things in it. Keep an eye out for anything that looks like Mom’s jewelry and set it aside. Bring everything down here. Iska can’t stay here anymore.”
Val wondered how Oliver would react to the disappearance of Iska. Would he be relieved or furious?
“You’re throwing her out?” Cyndi said slowly as if confused. “On a cold night like this?”
“I’m not a Dickens villain, Cyndi. She has places to go. Her relatives live around here. She knows people from church. And, as w
e now know, she has a boyfriend. If she stays here, she’ll explain away the boyfriend and tell Dad what he wants to hear. Next thing you know, they’ll be secretly married.”
Cyndi yawned audibly. “We have to find another aide fast.”
“No, we don’t. Iska went to the beach on several weekends last summer. Dad managed on his own.”
“He might forget to take his meds. Will you be here tomorrow morning?”
“No, I have clients who’ve flown in for an early meeting with me. His meds are in a pill box labeled with the days of the week, and I’ll call to remind him. I can ask the woman down the block to check that he’s taking them. She’s given him vitamin shots, so he knows her.”
“She’s a nurse?”
“Pharmacist. We won’t have to worry about his meds once he’s in the senior village. Before we can move him there, though, we have to get rid of Isk—” Elaine broke off. “Kevin, you’re supposed to be upstairs with Dad.”
“He’s in bed. Exhausted.”
“That makes two of us,” Cyndi said.
“You do look tired, Cyndi,” her husband said. “We’d better go soon.”
“Would the two of you please pack Iska’s belongings? You can leave after that. I’m going to stay down here to watch for her and keep her from going upstairs.”
With the family taking up their battle stations, Val could finally go into the dining room without intruding on them. As she cleared the table, she noticed still-wrapped birthday gifts on the buffet. Too bad Elaine hadn’t waited until after her father opened them before thrusting the photo of Iska in front of him. As long as those wrapped gifts sat there, they would remind him of his unhappy birthday. Val resisted the urge to tuck them away. It was none of her business.
She stored the leftovers in the fridge, enough for Oliver to heat up and eat for the next few days. Finally ready to leave, she went through the doorway from the kitchen to the hall, just as Iska came in the front door. Elaine confronted her. Val slipped back into the kitchen, a captive audience for the next act in a sad family drama.
* * *
When Val returned home from the Naiman house, she found Granddad in the kitchen, pouring water from the teakettle into a cup.
“You want some tea?” When she nodded, he made another cup. “How did the party go?”
“The food was a hit. No one died. That’s the best I can say about it.” She sat down at the table. “I can clear up one mystery. The small, dark-haired woman Elaine followed at the festival was Oliver’s health aide, Iska. The big to-do at the birthday dinner revolved around her.”
He brought both cups to the table and sat down across from her. She told him what had happened before, during, and after the birthday party, ending with Elaine firing Iska and barring her from the house.
“I felt sorry for Iska when Elaine gave her a carrot-and-stick ultimatum. If Iska left immediately and stayed away from Oliver, Elaine would give her a good reference so she could get another job as a health aide. But if Iska refused or ever tried to contact Oliver, Elaine would report her to ICE as an illegal.”
Granddad’s eyebrows shot up. “She doesn’t mess around. Did Iska put up a fight?”
“No. She called someone to pick her up. She wanted to leave Oliver a birthday gift, but Elaine wouldn’t let her.”
“The next few days are gonna be hard on him. Is one of his daughters staying with him?”
“No. They’re both driving home tonight. Cyndi and her husband left while I was still there.” Val sipped her tea. “Instead of raising my spirits, Oliver’s birthday dinner left me depressed. I’d rather talk about Jake’s death. Did you discover anything about him online?”
“Googling Jake Smith gave me more than a hundred million hits. When I added Texas to the search, I narrowed it down to thirty million. That’s not counting the Jacob Smiths. Looking up Jewel Smith in Texas, I ended up with only thirteen million hits. I’ll leave it to the police to figure out which Smiths landed here.”
“We’ve at least learned a lesson. If you want to make yourself hard to find, use a common name.” Val swirled the tea in her cup. “Any luck digging up information on the others at the tea?”
“I found another person with a motive. The librarian, Shantell Defoe, had a big beef with Jake. She lives on the block where he was making offers on houses. She formed a committee to stop him and tried to talk people out of selling. The neighbors who wanted to cash out were lobbying the others to sell. Folks who’d gotten along well for years became enemies.”
“So that’s why she was glaring at him across the table. But the odds are against her poisoning him. Murderous librarians are rare, and she wasn’t anywhere near Jake at the table.” Unlike Holly, who’d kneeled down next to him when he was on the floor. “Did you discover anything about Holly Atherson?”
“Yup. She had the know-how to kill Jake. She studied pharmacy and worked at a poison control center.”
Val nearly choked on her tea. “Is she working as a pharmacist now?”
Granddad shook his head. “Her husband’s a retired doctor. She never got a job after moving here from Pittsburgh a few years ago. Gotta wonder why. Maybe she mishandled drugs.”
“Or she just wanted to retire along with him. Where do they live?”
“On Belleview Avenue.”
“Like the Naimans.” Val would bet Holly was the neighboring pharmacist who gave Oliver vitamin shots.
“So what have I got to show for my research? Nothing on Jake. Shantell the librarian with a motive to kill him but no opportunity. Holly the poison expert with no motive but the opportunity.”
“We might dig up a motive for her, but her opportunity, if you can call it that, depended on two unlikely things. She happened to bring poison to a tea party. And her intended victim conveniently sank to the floor unconscious.”
Granddad didn’t argue with this. “We’re left with Irene at the bottom of the list and Jewel at the top. She had the strongest motive—her husband’s money—and the best opportunity.”
“No. The Ghost of Christmas Presents had the best opportunity.” Val swallowed the last of her tea and stood up. “By now the police must have some leads on who that person was. I’m going to bed with hopes that the chief will wrap up the case tomorrow and tie it with a holiday bow.”
“Happy dreams.”
* * *
At twelve thirty on Monday, Val was putting a quiche in the oven at the café when Franetta rushed in. She usually operated like an efficient engine, but today she was frazzled, a machine gone haywire. Her tight, gray curls resembled springs, poking out in all directions from her head.
“Hey, Val.” She popped onto a stool at the eating counter. “Nothing to eat or drink for me. I’m on my way to yoga class, just stopping to give you the news.”
Was the news about Jake? “I’m glad you came in. What’s going on?”
Franetta sighed. “Oliver Naiman is dead.”
“Oh, no!” Val’s stomach knotted. Had he fallen down the stairs as his daughter had feared? “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too. Elaine called me this morning and asked me to check on him because Iska wouldn’t be there. I went over about nine. He didn’t answer the doorbell, so I let myself in with my key and found him on the kitchen floor. I didn’t think anything could be done for him. I called 911 and notified Elaine. She was in a meeting, but she rushed out and got here in an hour.”
“Could you tell if Oliver had taken his meds? Cyndi was worried he might forget to take his pills.” And Val was worried he might have taken too many. Maybe he’d been so depressed over losing Iska that he’d committed suicide.
“I didn’t notice any meds. He’d made coffee and drunk most of a cup, but there weren’t any breakfast plates or bowls on the table, only a box of chocolates with the lid off. Three pieces were missing. He must have gotten the candy as a birthday present and decided to eat it for breakfast.”
“No one in his family would have given it to him. When I suggested ma
king a fudge birthday cake, Elaine said chocolate was bad for her father.” That didn’t mean he hadn’t bought the candy for himself. Granddad sometimes cheated on the low-fat diet his doctor had recommended. “Why do you think it was a birthday present?”
“There was a gift bag on the kitchen counter like people use when they don’t want to bother wrapping a box.” Franetta’s tone suggested disapproval.
“Was there a card in the bag or one of those To-From tags attached to it?”
“There was a tag, but no writing on it. Maybe Iska gave it to him.”
“She cooked for him. She would have known he shouldn’t eat chocolate.” Besides, Elaine hadn’t let Iska leave Oliver a gift.
“I don’t understand why Iska wasn’t there this morning.” Franetta’s eyes widened. “I just thought of something. Last night when Oliver said he was going to marry her, I took it as a weird remark. Lately he’s been saying things that had no basis in reality. But if it was true that he was going to marry her, his family would have fired Iska. Was there a big blowup after Thatcher and I went home?”
Val couldn’t help but listen to the family’s conversation last night, but she drew the line at telling the neighbors what happened. “I left as soon as I could.” Time to change the subject. “How long did Oliver live next door to you?”
“About seven years. His parents lived there when we moved into our house thirty years ago. Oliver would bring his family to visit them. When his parents retired to Florida, he kept the house as a vacation place. Then when Oliver retired . . .”
Half a dozen customers had sat down at the café tables while Franetta was giving the history of the house next to hers. “If you’ll excuse me, Franetta, I have to take some lunch orders.”
“And my yoga class is starting any minute.” Franetta climbed down from the stool. “I hope your business doesn’t go belly-up.”
Val froze. “Why would it?”
“Once word gets out that two men died after eating meals you catered, risk-adverse people might overreact.” Franetta left the café on that cheery note.
Val groaned. If anyone tried to blame her, she could point out that others had consumed her food without ill effects and that the deaths of Jake and Oliver had more in common besides her catering. They’d died within two days of each other, one after eating a gift cookie, the other after eating gift chocolates. Val wondered if any of Oliver’s neighbors had seen the Ghost of Christmas Presents on Belleview Avenue.
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