by Krista Davis
She was probably in her late thirties with a delicate appearance. She had almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, a pointy chin, and jet-black hair. I knew who she was immediately. There was no doubting the resemblance to Natasha.
“Charlene?” I asked gently.
She moaned, and her eyes closed.
“No! Don’t leave us,” I cried, fearful that she would die.
Natasha pushed past me and screamed. She clasped a hand over her mouth and fell to her knees. “Charlene! It’s your sister, Natasha. Charlene!”
“I called 911,” Mars announced. “They should be here any second. I told them to use the alley.”
Natasha wept. She picked up Charlene’s closest hand and clutched it in her own. Natasha’s tears fell on their hands.
“Charlene, can you hear us?” I asked.
There was no response. I reached across her for her other hand and felt for a pulse.
“Is she . . .” choked Natasha.
“I feel a faint pulse. She’s still with us.”
The wail of sirens pierced the night. We heard the ambulance turn into the alley. Its headlights set the alley aglow beyond the fence.
“I’ll show them the way,” said Mars.
In minutes, emergency medical technicians were checking on Charlene. One of them had to drag Natasha away from her. He asked questions about Charlene, but none of us knew the answers. Her age? Did she have any allergies? What had happened to her? We knew nothing. I wished I had bothered to get up from my dinner earlier and check on the odd movement that had caught my eye.
In fifteen minutes, she was whisked away in the ambulance. All we knew was that she was unconscious but still breathing. For that matter, we weren’t even certain that she was Charlene Smith. We had all made that assumption based on her appearance.
I seized Natasha’s arm. “Go with her. I’ll take care of everything here.” I walked to the house with her.
“Do you mean it?”
“Of course!”
“I knew there was a reason that you’re my dearest friend. Chocolate curry cake with stout beer frosting is on the kitchen island. Please serve it on the blue Wedgewood Hibiscus dessert plates. I’ve already prepared the hot pepper coffee. All you have to do is turn on the machine.”
“Don’t worry about us, Natasha. Keep us informed about Charlene.”
She grabbed a handbag and rushed off to her garage. By that time, no one was outside. Larry and Helbert begged off and departed. I had expected as much. It was hard to stay in a party mood after something that dramatic happened.
The rest of us pitched in to clear the table and extinguish the lights. Back in Natasha’s kitchen, Nina wrapped the leftovers and stored them in the refrigerator. I washed dishes while Mars and Benton dried them.
“What on earth could have happened to Charlene?” asked Nina.
Mars put away the clean forks and knives. “It was pretty obvious that someone beat her up.”
Nina studied the cake. “Do you think that someone was trying to keep her from coming here?”
“Their father!” I exclaimed. It was a gut reaction, but as soon as I said it, I realized that it made no sense. “Except her hair had dried blood in it. I don’t think the attack on her was recent. And from what I gather, neither of them knows where their father is, so it’s unlikely he was involved in the attack on Charlene.”
“How long does it take for blood to dry?” asked Mars.
Benton polished a plate with a kitchen towel. “One hour for one droplet at room temperature.”
Mars, Nina, and I stopped working to stare at him.
“What?” asked Benton. “It’s public knowledge. The government did a study. It depends on the ambient temperature.”
“Did either of you know that?” asked Nina, looking from me to Mars.
Benton chuckled. “I read a lot of oddball articles on the Internet.”
Mars’s phone buzzed and he walked away to answer it.
I washed the last plate and wiped the counters clean while we continued to speculate about Charlene’s bizarre appearance at the dinner party.
Mars barged into the kitchen. “Excuse me, but something has come up. I need to borrow Sophie.”
“What happened?” asked Nina.
“A problem with Wesley and Tilly. Grab your purse, Soph.”
“Mars!” I protested.
“We need to hurry,” he hissed.
I frowned at Mars. “Are you serious?”
“Come on already!”
“Nina, would you mind locking up?” I asked.
Mars tugged at my hand. In a flash we were out the door in the cold.
“Is this just a lame excuse to leave?” I asked.
“We’ll make better time on foot, I think.”
“Mars! Will you please answer me?”
He looked down at my feet. “I’m glad you didn’t wear heels. We can walk faster.”
“What happened?” I asked, getting worried now that it was sinking in that Mars hadn’t tried to tear me away from Nina and Benton.
“Abby’s phone is on the move.”
Chapter 15
Dear Natasha,
Is it true that it is bad manners not to turn off your cell phone when sitting down to a meal with people? What if you’re expecting an important text?
VIP in Hot Coffee, Mississippi
Dear VIP,
Turn off your phone. It is the height of rudeness to take calls or check your phone during a meal. For the etiquette impaired, “during a meal” means from the time you walk into the home or restaurant until you depart from the home or restaurant. I don’t care if you haven’t ordered yet or if you are waiting to be served or to pay. If the text is that important, maybe you shouldn’t be out having lunch, anyway.
Natasha
“She’s alive!” I finally walked faster. “How do you know?”
“Sorry, clearly I couldn’t say anything in front of Benton.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Really, Soph? Excuse me, Benton, but your wife the murderess has been located through her telephone. What if he contacts her and tells her the cops are onto her? All she has to do is ditch her phone and whammo! They’ve lost her again.”
Of course. I should have realized that. As we walked closer, I saw people watching Wesley and Tilly’s house. A TV van was parked across the street
“Hold it!” I seized his arm and brought him to a halt on Tilly’s street. “How do you know this?”
“Wesley texted me.”
I was wondering how Wesley could know, when a reporter ran up to us. “Mars Winston! Is it true that Abby Bergeron was not the woman in the freezer? Is Wesley Winthrop having an affair with Abby Bergeron?”
“What?!” I looked at Mars.
“Just ignore them.” He held onto my elbow and ushered me through the cluster of reporters. We were peppered with odd questions as Mars and I hurried toward the house.
I was shivering. My lace top had been fine while we ate dinner, but the night had grown colder and it wasn’t warm enough for a hike through Old Town.
Tilly flung the door open and motioned to us to enter quickly. “Isn’t this ridiculous? They’re claiming that Wesley is a murderer!”
“One of them asked us if he was having an affair with Abby,” I said.
“That’s so offensive! Where do they get these crazy ideas?”
It might be offensive but it had crossed our minds, too.
Tilly showed us into the cozy family room in the back of the house. A fire blazed, and mugs sat on the rustic coffee table. The TV was on but muted. Wolf paced the room, his phone to his ear.
Wesley perched on the L-shaped leather sofa, his hands knotted into fists. The man I hadn’t recognized when I saw him before stood in the shadows watching Wolf.
None of them greeted us. I hoped things would go well, because the tension in the room was enough to make it explode.
“Would you two care for a brandied hot chocolate
?” asked Tilly.
“Not for me, thanks,” said Mars, who made a beeline for Wesley. “What’s the status?”
“I’d love one,” I whispered to Tilly, so I could hear Wesley’s response.
“The police triangulated Abby’s phone and were able to zero in a little closer using GPS. It’s in Reston, Virginia, and on the move.”
“So Abby is definitely alive!” I exclaimed.
“Looks like it. The cops are trying to find her,” said Wesley. He gazed at Wolf hopefully. “They’ll probably arrest her for murder.”
His pupils were large, and his chest heaved with each breath as though he’d been running. This was obviously a big source of stress for him. Not that I could blame him. He would be relieved when Abby was caught and the speculation about his involvement ended.
On the other hand, if he was really having an affair with Abby, he might be nervous because the truth would now come out.
The man I hadn’t recognized before edged toward me and said, “Hello, Sophie,” as if he knew me. Why did he look familiar? Big bushy eyebrows topped intense brown eyes. He wore a short mustache and a day’s worth of beard growth.
I was immensely relieved when Tilly said, “You know Stu Jericho, of course.”
Stu smoothly said, “I see Sophie at a lot of the big events in town. Let’s see, I think the last one was the art benefit gala.”
The room grew silent as we waited to hear an update from Wolf. Tilly handed me a mug of hot chocolate with a marshmallow garnish decorated with green candy melts to look like Frankenstein.
I pointed at it and mouthed, “So cute!”
At long last Wolf said to us, “The phone appears to have come to a stop. They’re on foot, searching for Abby.”
He continued holding the phone to his ear. Suddenly, he said, “I’ll meet you there.”
Wesley rose to his feet. “They found her?”
Wolf rubbed his neck like he was tired. “I wouldn’t get too excited yet. I’ll give you a call when I know more.”
While the others talked, I slipped away and walked to the door with Wolf.
“Wesley seems very agitated,” I whispered.
“I noticed that.”
“Is he involved?” I asked.
Mars shot me a look. “Like I would tell you? Sophie, I don’t know much more than you do yet. All I can say is that we’re running down all the leads we have, hoping we can start to make sense out of this.”
He opened the door and marched into the midst of reporters shouting questions. I closed the door behind him and locked it. No point in taking a chance that one of them would try to sneak inside.
When I returned to the family room, Tilly was saying, “I’ve been bugging Wesley about getting outdoor cameras. The kind that are set off by motion sensors. I’ve been anxious since they found that woman in the freezer. And then people started gawking at our door. The girls can barely come and go. You’d think they would leave them alone!”
“Why don’t you have the girls use the alley?” asked Mars. “I doubt that’s staked out yet.”
Tilly looked at her husband. “I wish we could go away until this blows over.”
Jericho, still in the shadows, was quite obviously shaking his head in the negative.
Wesley frowned at his wife. “I’d say we should take a family vacation just to get out of town, but if we do that they’ll probably follow us and claim that it’s a sign of guilt.”
“Or that you’re enjoying yourselves when Abby is on the run and an unidentified woman is in the freezer. Also a very bad image,” said Mars.
“Can’t we stop this?” asked Wesley. “There has to be a way to get this under control.”
“Maybe it will calm down when they find Abby,” said Mars.
I wondered if that was true. If Wesley had played a role in whatever happened, then finding Abby could be the beginning of the end for him. For the first time I wondered if Abby could be hiding from Wesley. “Where is Briley now?” I asked.
“Upstairs doing homework. Tomorrow is a school day. While I truly hope they find Abby, I hope we won’t be up all night again.” Tilly collected empty mugs and carried them to the sink.
“We should go,” I said to Mars. “Would you mind if we left through the alley?”
I could swear Wesley looked panicked. The self-assured smooth-talking politician had lost his confidence. He gazed at Mars and asked, “You’ll call us if you hear anything?”
“I will.” Mars nodded solemnly.
“Even in the middle of the night,” Wesley pressed.
Mars placed his hand on Wesley’s shoulder. “You don’t have anything to worry about. Try to get some sleep.”
The clattering of rapid footsteps on the stairs drew our attention. A moment later, Briley burst into the room. “The woman in the freezer is Schuyler’s mom!”
Chapter 16
Dear Sophie,
I’m headed south for the winter, but I don’t want to throw away all the food in my fridge. Can I freeze butter, heavy cream, and cucumbers?
Frozen Grandma in Hazard, Nebraska
Dear Frozen Grandma,
Butter freezes surprisingly well. Unfortunately, most other dairy products, including cream, are not good choices for the freezer. Alas, neither are cucumbers or other high water-content vegetables. May I suggest pickling the cucumbers?
Sophie
I glanced at the television. There was no breaking news. “How do you know that?”
“Schuyler’s dad had to go identify the body. He just broke it to her. She texted me.” Briley held up her phone as though that proved what she was saying.
“Mia? I was afraid of that.” Tilly sank into a chair. “Oh, Briley! Schuyler must be devastated.”
Wesley grasped the back of Tilly’s chair. “I’m having trouble computing this. Abby murdered Mia? What was Mia doing at Abby’s house in the first place? Were they friends?”
“Honey,” said Tilly in a soothing tone, “I’m sure they met over here. But I wasn’t aware that they socialized outside of our house.”
“Clearly, they must have,” he grumbled.
“The good news,” said Jericho, “is that they’ll probably take Abby into custody tonight and this nightmare will be over.”
“Not for Schuyler,” murmured Tilly. “Do you want to go over to see her, Briley? You can stay home from school tomorrow to be with Schuyler if you want.”
Briley was solemn. “I’d like that. What do I say to her?”
“Honey, let her do the talking. You be a good friend by listening. I’ll go with you. Maybe Schuyler’s dad needs help with something. Wesley, you should listen to Mars. You haven’t slept since they opened that freezer. Maybe you should take a sleeping pill tonight.”
Wesley said, “No sleeping pills for me, Tilly. I have to keep my wits about me.”
“I’ll be back soon.” Tilly rose and wrapped an arm around Briley’s shoulders. Together they walked out toward the alley.
Wesley fidgeted as if he wasn’t sure what to do.
“I’m sorry it was Mia,” I said. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Thank you, Sophie. I think perhaps Jericho is correct. If they bring in Abby, then I’ll be okay.”
Mars was already outside, eager to leave. “The coast is clear,” he hissed. He had opened the door in the brick wall surrounding their garden and held it for me.
I stepped through and into darkness.
We walked along the alley without speaking. It wasn’t until we were safely a block away from Wesley and Tilly’s house that I said, “Your client is falling apart.”
Mars nodded. “I didn’t expect it of him. Then again, I never expected anything like this to happen. What did Wolf tell you? I noticed that you slipped away to get the scoop from him.”
“Not much. Sounds like they’re as confused as everyone else.”
“Did he mention Wesley?”
“Nope. Are you worried about him? Do you think he’s inv
olved in this mess?”
“I don’t know. I get that he liked Abby as a person and the situation is distressing. But he’s far more upset than I would have expected.” Mars glanced at me. “This is hush-hush. Got it? Don’t even mention it to Nina.”
“Okay.”
“The guy named Jericho who was there tonight is bad news. Wesley insists he came highly recommended, and I believe that. Jericho is like a political bloodhound. He can smell trouble a mile away.”
“Why is that a secret? What politician wouldn’t want a guy with that kind of talent around?” I asked.
“He can’t be trusted.”
“So how does that play into Mia’s death and Abby’s disappearance?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m beginning to put some things together.”
“Like what?”
Mars walked me to my kitchen door and hugged me like he didn’t want to let me go. “It might be better if you don’t know.” He turned and walked into the night.
Had Abby told Mars something that he hadn’t shared with me? I wasn’t too concerned about him until that moment. It wasn’t typical of Mars. That hug had told me more than his words had. Just like Wesley and Tilly, I found myself hoping everything would be cleared up when they found Abby.
I locked up the house and went to bed but tossed, wondering what Wolf had discovered. Had they found Abby? Was she in hiding because she was afraid or because she had murdered Mia, and stuffed her in the freezer?
And how was Charlene?
* * *
At six in the morning, I turned on the local news show, hoping to hear that Abby had been found. I was disappointed when the anchor announced that police were currently investigating a person of interest. What did that mean? Was Abby dead or alive? Was she the person of interest?
Reluctantly, I gave up any hope of sleeping and ambled downstairs to make tea. While I waited for the water to boil, I looked through Tilly’s recipes for an apple tartlet I had seen.
Inspired, I mixed the dough and placed it in the fridge according to the instructions. I chopped nuts and sliced apples while it chilled. Still in my bathrobe, I preheated the oven and rolled out the dough. I sprinkled it with nuts and lay the apple slices on top in overlapping circles. The recipe made four tartlets. They looked too pretty to eat.
