The Diva Spices It Up

by Krista Davis

  Daisy’s ears perked. She barked and ran to the kitchen door. I scooted out of the banquette. A man’s face peered through the glass in the door. He cupped his hands around his eyes.

  Daisy stood guard at the door. I opened it. “May I help you?”

  “Ken Publiski, Channel 81 news. I’d like to ask Mr. Winston some questions.”

  “Then I suggest you go over to Mr. Winston’s house.” I closed the door and locked it.

  Ken appeared confused.

  I shot a glance at Mars and waited for Ken to leave. When he walked out to the sidewalk, I motioned for Mars to stand. I quickly propelled him into the den and pulled the curtains closed.

  My small den had three interior walls and a sliding glass door. With the curtains drawn, it was very private. I pulled the curtain aside an inch and peered out. No one was there. “Have you eaten?”

  “Who can eat?”

  “Mars, it’s not that bad.”

  “Are you kidding? The cops are asking what I did with Abby’s body! Why would they think I killed her?”

  Okay, that was far worse than I expected. He was probably the last person who had seen her alive.

  I hustled to the kitchen and prepared two mugs of hot English breakfast tea. Maybe that would help his nerves. I double-checked to be sure I had locked the kitchen door before carrying them into the den.

  “Let’s go over this. Abby went to Tilly and Wesley’s house that Friday. According to Tilly, it was somewhat chaotic. You were there for lunch, right?”

  “Yes.” Mars sounded very crabby.

  “Who else was there?”

  “That’s not going to help.”

  “Indulge me.”

  He groaned. “Wesley, a couple of his staffers—Ian Culver and Stu Jericho, Tilly, Abby, the two girls, and Mia.”

  “Thank you. Did you notice what Abby was doing?”

  “No.”

  He wasn’t being helpful. “Did she talk with anyone?”

  “You think Wesley had something to do with her disappearance.” Mars watched me.

  “I don’t know.” I did know that Wesley planned to blame Mars, but I didn’t think this was the time to mention that. Mars was usually very level headed. Right now he was very upset. I would have to find the right time to tell him what I had overheard. There was no point in depressing him further right now.

  “You asked her to dinner that night.”

  “Yes! Yes, I did.” Now he sounded defensive. “That doesn’t mean I made her disappear.”

  “Chill a little, Mars. What I’m getting at is whether Wesley saw or overheard you asking Abby out.”

  “Oh.” Mars looked away as if he was trying to recall the events. “Yeah. Yeah, I think he or Stu might have been around then.”

  “Just to be clear. Who met Abby first? You or Wesley?”

  “You think Wesley set me up?” Mars sat up straighter. It was like someone had given him a shot of energy.

  “I’m not sure. You’re the one who always says we have to look at the facts. I’m sorry, but I have a feeling Wesley is up to something.”

  “And it involves Abby?” Mars shook his head. “No, I introduced them. I recommended Abby.”

  “How did you meet her?”

  “It was at a party. A cocktail party . . . Wait a minute. Wesley was there. They could have set me up. Maybe he did know her already.” He scratched the back of his head. “But that doesn’t make sense. What would be the point?”

  “To murder Mia?”

  “That’s ridiculous!” cried Mars.

  “I agree, except it’s the only logical reason to make you the fall guy. They needed to get rid of Mia for some reason, so they banked on the fact that you were taking Abby out that night. Did Abby ask you to walk her home?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s just what a gentleman does.”

  “It puts you at the site of the murder and likely makes you the last person who saw Abby. Did you go into her house?”

  Mars yanked at his collar as if it had suddenly become too tight.

  “Did you spend the night there?” I tried to sound academic about it.

  “No! I walked her to her front door, gave her a little kiss, and walked home.”

  “Mars, this is no time to be bashful. It’s okay if you went into her house. You’re a single guy. Abby is a single woman.”

  “I’m embarrassed because I didn’t go inside. A cool guy would have. The truth is that I just wasn’t that interested in her. I liked her but there wasn’t a special attraction. And she was a little bit boring.”

  I bit back a grin. He didn’t have to confess anything to me. “Do you see what I’m getting at? They’ll say you murdered Mia and that Abby fled out of fear.”

  “Why did they murder Mia?”

  It was a very good question. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to figure out what Mia was doing at Abby’s house that night.”

  “That flies in the face of your theory. I’m not buying it.”

  “Okay, then, let’s go back to facts.” I thought for a moment. “We’ve got nothing. Two women—one is dead, and one is missing.”

  “How about this?” Mars stretched his arms while he spoke. “Abby saw Wesley murder Mia and is in hiding because she’s afraid of Wesley.”

  “Same problem. What was Wesley’s motive? Do you think it’s possible that Charlene was injured at Abby’s house? They were friends.”

  I picked up the phone and called Wolf.

  “Oh swell,” muttered Mars.

  I had expected to get his voice mail, but Wolf answered the phone.

  “It’s Sophie, Wolf. Do you recall telling me that you found the blood of a third person at Abby’s house?”

  “I do.”

  “Could you check it against Charlene Smith’s blood?”

  There was a long silence. “And why exactly would you think Charlene had been at Abby’s house?”

  “Natasha and I met her mother yesterday. I’m surprised that no one notified her that Charlene was in the hospital.”

  “It’s not my case, Sophie. I don’t know what to tell you about that.”

  “It turns out that Abby and Charlene were friends.”

  “That’s not exactly overwhelming evidence that Charlene was at Abby’s house that night. What are you getting at? You think Abby tried to murder Charlene, too?”

  “That hadn’t occurred to me. But Wolf, I think I saw Fred Conway coming out of Abby’s gate.”

  “You think you saw him or you’re sure it was him?”

  “It was dark.”

  “Sophie, call me when you have facts. I have an investigation to pursue.”

  He hung up.

  Mars snickered. “You’re lucky he let you ramble as long as you did.”

  “Okay, smarty-pants. Let’s take your scenario and substitute Fred Conway for Wesley. Charlene breaks up with Fred and flees to Abby’s house. Fred follows Charlene and tries to murder her. Abby witnesses the murder and is in hiding from Fred.”

  “That actually makes sense,” said Mars. “Except for one major oversight. You forgot about Mia being there.”

  I sagged against the back of the sofa.

  “Let’s put motive aside. What if, according to your scenario, Fred arrived at Abby’s house. For some reason, three women couldn’t prevent him from murder and mayhem and he’s at fault for everything. Then what is Wesley so worried about?” asked Mars.

  “An excellent question.” He was correct. Nothing fit together. I had been premature in suggesting Wolf check the blood against Charlene’s. “You’re in a better position than I am to know what Wesley’s problem is. I overheard Wesley and Stu speaking today. They definitely mentioned something that Wesley is afraid will be made public. Stu told him not to worry, but Wesley was angry.”

  Mars looked at me with wonder. “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. I’m sorry to tell you this, but they’re going to put the blame on you.”

  “Blame for what? I haven’t
done anything.”

  “My best guess is that your date with Abby put you in the right place for something. If it’s any consolation, Wesley feels pretty bad about it.”

  “They’re covering up. It’s a classic deflection move. They’re going to blame me for Mia’s death in order to move attention away from something else. Oh ho!” Mars finally smiled. “You can be my spy.”

  “Oh no. I would make a lousy spy.”

  “There’s nothing to it. You’re over there every day. Just see what else you can pick up. Mind if I use the computer in your office?”

  “Of course not. What are you up to?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But there must be something in Wesley’s past that everyone missed. Everyone except Stu. If he could find it, so can I.”

  Chapter 24

  Dear Sophie,

  I usually cook for my husband and myself, so I rarely use an entire package of bacon. I hate to waste it. What’s the best way to use it up?

  Baconista in Bacon, Missouri

  Dear Baconista,

  Go ahead and cook the entire package of bacon. Crumble up the leftovers and freeze them. Now you can pop them into any dish without having to cook more bacon!

  Sophie

  Mars spent the night at my home to avoid the press that camped out in front of Bernie’s house. Saturday morning I found Mars bleary-eyed, still looking at the computer screen in my home office.

  “Good morning. Did you get any sleep at all last night?” I asked.

  “Not much. I conked out on the sofa for a while, but then I thought of something and got back to work.”

  “Can I make you some coffee?”

  “Yes, please!”

  I retreated to the kitchen and put the kettle on. After the water boiled and sat for a moment, I poured it over coffee grounds in the French press.

  Before letting Daisy out in the yard, I peeked outside to be sure the gate was closed and that no reporters lurked around. I could see a couple of diehards at Bernie’s house, but my yard was peaceful and safe for Daisy.

  At that moment a car pulled up in front of Francie’s home. She stepped out and waved at me before opening the passenger side. Eunice squabbled with Francie about needing her help. I left Daisy inside the fence and hurried over.

  “Good morning, ladies!”

  “Will you tell Francie that I don’t need her help getting out of a car?” Eunice grumbled.

  I figured she didn’t want my assistance, either. “Could I carry something for you?”

  Francie left Eunice to her own devices and popped open the trunk. “That suitcase is pretty heavy. And then there are the cats.”

  “Cats?”

  “In the back seat.”

  I peered into the car. Sure enough, Eunice’s cats looked back at me from their carriers. I took them into Francie’s house two at a time. When they were all safely in the house, I lifted the suitcase that weighed next to nothing and a laptop computer.

  “Don’t drop that!” Eunice shouted.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Francie.

  “We’re doing what you suggested. There’s a contractor at Eunice’s house right now putting in a main floor bathroom and converting the dining room to a bedroom. He’s also installing an elevator!”

  “Ouch. That must be expensive.”

  Francie waved her hand as though it was nothing. “Not as much as going to an old folks home. He’s also putting in wheelchair ramps, just in case. Smart guy. He thinks ahead.”

  “Eunice is staying with you for the time being?”

  “If we don’t kill each other,” Francie quipped.

  Eunice had managed to step out of the car. She stood erect with her cane in her hand. “Sophie, I love Briley and Schuyler! They’ve been by to visit every single day.”

  “They’re coming to my house this afternoon,” added Francie. “Such a shame that sweet Schuyler lost her mom at a tender age. Eunice and I are trying to help her work through this terrible time.”

  I swelled with joy. Who’d have thought that would happen?

  “Can I bring over some breakfast?” I asked.

  “Nope.” Francie held up a bag from Big Daddy’s Bakery. “We already picked it up. But you can carry that heavy bag into my downstairs bedroom.”

  “Don’t drop that computer,” cautioned Eunice again.

  “What’s with all the TV crews?” asked Francie.

  “They’re after Mars because he was the last person known to see Abby.”

  “So?” asked Francie.

  “I guess they’re hoping there will be a development and they don’t want to miss it.” I carried the suitcase to the guest bedroom in the back of Francie’s house. Duke, the golden retriever, accompanied me.

  The bedroom was small but very sweet. Francie had painted it a soft blue that matched two curtains featuring red and brown birds. I placed the suitcase on a white luggage rack and stared at it. It was brown leather, definitely a few decades old. I wasn’t sure they made luggage like that anymore.

  But something was bothering me about it. I looked at the blue walls and remembered the blue suitcase that an elderly man had pulled out of the water. What was his name? I doubted that the suitcase had any connection to Abby or Mia, but it was worth a phone call to him. Maybe he had found something interesting inside.

  I stopped in Francie’s cozy dining room, where they were unpacking their breakfast. It also served as a home library. Francie and her husband had installed walls of bookshelves around the room.

  “I met a guy at the river the other day and I’m trying to remember his name. I’m pretty sure the first name was Sam, but I can’t remember his last name.”

  Eunice said, “The only Sam I know was a guy I worked with. We used to call him Sam Bambam.”

  “Bamberger! That’s it. That’s the guy.”

  “He’s a doll,” said Eunice. “Too bad I wasn’t with you. I’d like to see old Sam again.”

  “Do you have his phone number?” I asked.

  “Isn’t he a little bit old for you?” Eunice raised her eyebrows.

  “He found a suitcase in the Potomac. Now I’m wondering what he found inside.”

  They looked at me blankly. It took a minute to sink in.

  “I wonder if any of Abby’s luggage is missing.” Eunice’s mouth pulled tight.

  “Maybe Benton would be able to tell,” I said. “He must know what her luggage looks like. It probably has nothing to do with Abby, but we should check.”

  “I’ll contact him right after we have breakfast.”

  “Would you like to join us?” asked Francie. “We have plenty.”

  My hand flew up to cover my mouth. “Mars! I was making him coffee. I forgot all about him.”

  I flew out the door and over to my house.

  Mars was in the kitchen drinking coffee. “Where have you been?”

  I explained about Eunice while I popped a loaf of frozen bread into the oven and started frying eggs and cooking bacon.

  Mars gazed out the window. “I wonder where Wesley and Stu were the night Mia died and Abby left.”

  “Didn’t you keep track of Wesley’s schedule?”

  “Whoever killed Charlene did it after eight o’clock at night. Wesley didn’t have an evening engagement that night. Think you could ask Tilly what he was doing? I’d like to know if he has an alibi.”

  “Do you think they could have planned it together?” I asked. “Tilly made sure she had an alibi. She probably knew Abby was going out to dinner with you, giving Wesley time to sneak into Abby’s house and wait for her. I bet they planned an alibi for Wesley, too.”

  “Better put on more eggs. Bernie and Nina are on their way over.”

  I pulled out another frying pan and poured some oil in it to heat.

  Mars opened the kitchen door for them. “Fried eggs okay with you guys?”

  “I smell bacon.” Nina made a beeline for the kitchen island and poured two mugs of coffee.

  “Are you ever c
oming home?” Bernie handed Mars a laptop computer.

  “As soon as the press leaves.”

  “They’re asking me if you murdered . . . let me get this straight, Why did Mars murder his former employer’s lover?”

  “Now they think Wesley had an affair with Mia? That sounds awful. At least it wasn’t Mia I went out with. Why aren’t they pursuing her husband?” asked Mars. “Don’t answer that. I know how it works.” To Bernie and Nina, he said, “Wesley and Stu are trying to place blame on me.”

  “Would they be wicked enough to make up evidence?” I slid eggs onto plates and Bernie carried them over to the table.

  “What do you mean?” asked Mars.

  “They could claim one of them saw you leaving Abby’s house late at night. Or tell Wolf that you confessed to them and that’s why you were fired,” I said.

  Mars looked a little green.

  I removed the bread from the oven, and Nina took a deep breath. “There’s just nothing better than bread!” she said. “Except maybe bread that’s still warm from the oven.” She found a serrated knife and a bread board while I retrieved butter, apple butter, and blackberry jam from the fridge.

  When we sat down to eat, I noticed that Bernie had a pad of paper and a pen. “What’s that about?”

  “Mars always tells us that we have to stick to the facts.”

  Nina picked up a slice of bread and slathered it with apple butter. “Well, I think Abby is dead.”

  “That is not a fact,” pointed out Bernie.

  “It sort of is. No cat lover would have abandoned her cat like that. The cat dishes were gone. The carrier was in the middle of the living room, which indicates to me that she was planning to take him with her. But she didn’t, ergo, Abby is deceased.”

  “That’s quite a theory,” said Bernie. “But as you may recall, I have three cats and the mere appearance of the cat carrier is sufficient to cause all three of them to vanish instantly. How do you know that her cat didn’t hide from her?”

  Nina flashed him an annoyed look and chomped down on the piece of crusty bread.

  “Who else besides Mars is a suspect?” Bernie ate a bite of egg.

  Mars hid behind his coffee mug and looked upset. “Wesley and Stu Jericho.”