by A. Gardner
"I heard her DNA was all over Lord Chutney's car," Rose mutters as she refills our drinks. I'm sticking with water again. Marta's request. But I think she might cave.
"Marta, you never mentioned your wedding reception was at a haunted house," Destin comments.
"Hasn't Lewis filled you in on the details?" Rose asks Marta.
"You know I'm not allowed to say." Marta reluctantly sips her water. "That's police business, Rose."
"Oh, come on." Rose lingers at our pub table. "Do you really expect me to believe that the two of you don't have pillow talk?"
"I know as much as everyone else in the village," Marta confesses.
It's the truth.
After taking Lewis's phone call, Marta didn't know what to do next. Her mind was made up for her when a police car sped toward us, headed for the Woodbury bakery. A crowd gathered in the street as Catherine was taken away in handcuffs. She kept her head down the entire time, showing no signs of guilt or remorse. Lewis was called into work, and Marta hasn't seen him since.
As long as he's around tomorrow morning for the ceremony.
"So is it true then?" Rose asks. "Was Catherine's DNA found inside Lord Chutney's car and on Ethan Taylor's body?"
"That sounds like pretty poor planning to me," Destin says. Dandre frowns as he clears his throat. Destin glances at his cousin, who shakes his head with disapproval.
"I don't know, Rose." Marta is having trouble concentrating tonight. "I'm just as shocked as you that Catherine would do something like this. I mean, why Ethan Taylor? She barely knew him."
"My thoughts exactly," Rose admits. "Ethan was a young lad, and he and Catherine never ran in the same circles. I can't imagine what would possess her to do it."
Rose finishes refilling our waters before tending to another table. The pub is growing more and more crowded. Villagers are pouring in by the minute, hoping to catch the latest gossip on Catherine's big arrest. Destin and Dandre begin arguing in French, and Marta won't stop staring at the staircase leading to the second floor. I can only assume she's wondering where Tamsin fits into all of this.
It's difficult for me to think of Catherine as a killer. And if it's true that she killed Ethan Taylor, when did she do it? Not to mention why did she do it? She told Tamsin herself to stop digging into Lord Chutney's past. Did Catherine catch Ethan snooping around that night? That would mean that Catherine was neglecting her own advice and was snooping around as well.
"Do you think this is why she kicked us out of the bakery?" Marta says quietly. I can barely make out what she's saying over the excessive chatter around us. "Because she actually killed Ethan and then moved onto Tamsin?"
"Did Catherine leave her seat during dinner?" I ask.
"I have no idea," Marta responds.
"Neither do I." I find myself glancing at the staircase too. "Don't worry. Tamsin is out there somewhere."
"I really hope you're right." Marta's gaze falls on Destin's unfinished beer.
"Did you say Tamsin?" Destin repeats, breaking his conversation with Dandre. "I was hoping she'd meet me here tonight, but I haven't heard from her all day."
"Join the club," Marta says. "She missed my wedding rehearsal this morning."
"And the obligatory awkward family luncheon right after," I add, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn't work as well as I hoped.
"Oh." Destin turns his head looking confused. "I thought she was really looking forward to the wedding."
I lean forward, remembering the way Destin and Tamsin seemed to have hit it off last night. During my talk with Tamsin in the ladies' room, she was refreshing her makeup. No doubt it was because she was planning to woo a certain Frenchman. Maybe Tamsin said something to Destin that might help us?
"Destin, did you and Tamsin stay in the pub long after we all left?" I ask.
"Are you asking me if I went back to her room?" Destin looks to Marta. "Of course I did not. I know how you feel about mixing personal things with business, Marta."
"She means did you and Tamsin stay up late and have a chat," Marta clarifies. "Just answer the question, Destin. I won't be cross with you."
"Well…yes." Destin shrugs. "She seemed a bit upset though. Kind of a conversation killer."
"Did you see her go back to her room last night?" I continue.
"Um…" Destin tilts his head. "Not exactly. She got some phone call and said she had to meet someone."
Marta and I both glance at each other.
"Did she say who?" Marta jumps in.
"Um…" Destin scratches his head.
"Come on, Destin. Think. This is very, very important." Marta changes her voice to the stern tone she uses in the kitchen. Destin gulps, as if reminded that at Le Croissant he answers to Marta.
"I can't remember a name," Destin confesses. He looks at the pub table he sat at last night. It's one table over from where we're sitting now. Destin takes a deep breath as he studies his old seat. "She received a phone call, and it was urgent enough that she told me she had to cut our night short. Then she left to meet someone outside the pub."
"You didn't see who?" Marta asks again.
"Eh, there were too many people blocking the windows, but I know she wasn't leaving me for another man." Destin grins as he sips more of his drink. He nods, pleased that his ego was left unscathed by the whole experience.
"So you did see someone?" I point out.
"Fine," Destin mutters. "I followed her out to see why she couldn't wait until morning." Dandre cracks a smile before he begins laughing. Destin smacks his cousin's shoulder.
"He was desperate, I think," Dandre adds.
"Oh, shut up." Destin brushes off Dandre's comment as best as he can.
"So Tamsin met up with a woman?" I wave my hand in front of Destin's face to keep him grounded on our conversation. He finds it amusing.
"Oui," Destin chuckles.
"Catherine," Marta mutters.
"Do you remember what she looked like?" I wait, hoping that Destin will solve all of our problems. "Was she blonde?"
"It was dark," Destin admits.
"Then it had to be Catherine," Marta mutters again, shaking her head. "That horrible little tart. I can't believe I trusted her. I can't believe I even felt sorry for her having to run the Woodbury bakery all by herself for so many years."
"Are you talking about that woman from the bakery?" Destin asks. "Because it wasn't her."
"You said it was dark," I remind him.
"Yes, but I'm sure it wasn't that woman from the bakery," Destin insists.
"Why is that?" Marta raises her eyebrows.
"I saw a face." Destin takes another sip. "It was a woman I've never seen before."
"If you saw that woman again, would you recognize her?" I take the conversation one step further as I glance around the busy pub. It's a Saturday night, and I'm pretty certain that half of the village is here.
"Eh, I suppose." Destin shrugs. "Why is this so important?"
"Okay, take a look around," Marta instructs him. She scans the pub, starting with Rose who is standing behind the bar. "Do you see any familiar faces?"
"What does it matter anyway?" Destin wrinkles his brow looking confused. "Tonight is your last night as a single woman. Aren't you supposed to be out drinking or something?"
"I am out," Marta says firmly. "And this is more important than some late night binge at a strip club."
"Femmes," Destin mutters. He rolls his eyes as he looks at Dandre. Dandre says something in French, and Destin just rolls his eyes again. "Dandre says if strippers aren't your thing, you should consider a late night feast."
"And bust out of my wedding gown?" Marta adds. "No, thank you." She impatiently taps her fingers on the table. "Just have a look around the place. That can be your gift to me."
"My gift to you is your wedding cake," Destin says snidely.
"Just have a look, Destin." Marta clenches her jaw, and Destin immediately sits back in his seat and studies each villager one-by-one.
> My chest goes heavy as I wait, attempting to read Destin's thoughts with no such luck. Destin narrows his eyes a few times before shaking his head. Each time he does, Marta looks more and more disappointed. I don't know if Destin's memory is a reliable source to go on, but Marta seems hopeful. Her expression changes every time Destin lingers on someone in particular.
"Anything?" I ask. I can't wait anymore.
"I'm sorry." Destin shrugs. "I do not recognize anyone."
"So much for that," Marta says quietly.
"And so much for a wild night out before your big day," I comment. "Are you sure there's nothing special you want to do tonight?"
Marta made it clear, after Lewis had called her and said he'd been called into work, that she wanted a quite evening in to rest and prepare for the morning. I still don't buy it. Of course, I'm sure Tamsin had something planned for tonight, but she never got around to telling me about it.
"No." Marta shrugs and eyes her glass of water.
I look to Destin and Dandre.
"I have an idea," I say out loud. "Are any of the shops around here still open?"
"Why?" Marta frowns.
"You'll see." I wave at Destin and Dandre to follow me as I get up to leave. I know one thing that will take Marta's mind off of Tamsin and Catherine's arrest.
At least, it will take her mind off of it for the evening.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Are you sure you don't want to sneak into Sandra's room and make her wear ear plugs?" I laugh as I refill Marta's teacup with the only alcoholic thing I could find in Sandra's cupboards. Destin and Dandre clink their glasses as they finish their second helpings. Sandra's delicate china looks like doll's dishes in Dandre's chubby hands.
"She won't mind," Marta responds. After we got home, she drank just enough to take her mind off of Tamsin. Destin and Dandre followed us, putting together the ingredients needed for one of Marta's banoffee pies. "Let's make another while the first one chills."
"Another pie?" Dandre raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't protest. "We're out of biscuits."
"Use the ones in that biscuit tin," Marta says, directing them the same way she does at Le Croissant, minus the drunken grin on her face. "Who cares if they're chocolate biscuits."
"Oui." Dandre takes a bite of the chocolate cookies Sandra keeps on the counter for afternoon tea. He nods approvingly and gets to work crushing a handful for the piecrust.
Marta pulls the banoffee pie we have already made from the fridge. It's been sitting an hour, which Marta informed me isn't long enough to let the toffee layer set, but Marta doesn't seem to care. She takes Dandre's late night feast comment to heart and grabs a spoon. She doesn't even bother to slice the pie into pieces.
"Marta," Destin gasps. "You are eating pie straight from the tin? I never thought I would see the day. Dandre, we must get a picture of this." Destin lights up like a child on Christmas morning.
"All you're getting is a mental picture that I will deny once we get back to work," Marta answers.
"There she is," Destin responds. "Quick, Poppy, she needs more to drink."
I smile as I prepare the butter and sugar in a saucepan. Marta insisted that I use dulce de leche to make the pie's toffee layer. Once the cookie crust and toffee layers set, the bananas and cream go on top. Marta licks a dollop of cream before helping herself to a spoonful of pie. A bead of toffee drips onto the table, but Marta doesn't seem to notice, much less care, that the pie isn't done.
"Oh, this is heaven," Marta says to herself.
"You see," I comment to Destin. "There was no need for strippers tonight. A nice creamy pie will do the trick."
"If I ever get married, you are not planning my bachelor party," Destin replies. "But I will admit, you do know how to calm her down."
The three of us look at Marta as we continue working in the kitchen. She takes another spoonful of pie and washes it down with the contents of her teacup. Sandra's kitchen looks like a miniature reenactment of what Marta does every day at work. It's enough familiarity to help her stay relaxed. That and the "special tea."
"Marta is very much like another good friend of mine." I continue with the toffee base as Dandre finishes the chocolate cookie crust. "She would always bake when something was bothering her. Which ends up being a lot." I think of Bree and all the nights I'd wake up to the banging of pots and pans. Something like nervous baking seemed strange to me my first year of pastry school. Now I've seen what a stress reliever it can actually be. The trick is an empty kitchen with no rules, no expectations, and no guests to please.
"All finished." Dandre hands me his piecrust made quickly with cookie crumbs and butter. I add the dulce de leche to my saucepan and finish the base of the pie.
"This incident at the Chutney Manor," Destin mutters. "It is all horrible timing. Yes?"
"You have no idea." I let my toffee mixture cool before I pour it into the pie tin. "It's been one thing after another." I glance at Marta. She is still distracted with her finished banoffee pie and refilled teacup. "First, Chutney Manor. Then her cat, Peppercorn, went missing. Then Tamsin went missing, and now that woman at the bakery has been arrested. That doesn't even include all the wedding stuff she's had to do this week."
"Weddings do not sound like fun." Destin fills his teacup along with mine and Dandre's. He sips it slowly, much more clearheaded than I thought he would be. I guess Destin has a high tolerance for alcohol. "Maybe I got lucky."
"Speaking of weddings," I say. "Are you really going to pretend like you and Valentine were never a thing?"
"Poppy." Destin frowns when I mention his ex-fiancée, a woman Destin has known most of his life.
"I know being a ladies' man is sort of your thing, but you and Val were made for each other." I can't help but add my two cents. Chances are that I won't see Destin again for another few years at least. "Doesn't seeing Marta and Lewis together make you thirsty for romance?"
"Not really," Destin admits. "Does it for you?"
"Well…" I shrug, realizing that I haven't let myself think too much about it. "Yeah, I guess so. There's nothing wrong with wanting to settle down with someone, is there? Just don't tell my mother I said that."
"So what is his name?" Destin listens eagerly.
"I don't know," I answer. "I seem to have bad luck in that department."
"Maybe you won't once you plant roots." Destin scratches his chin and sips more of his drink like its actual tea, rather than the strongest thing Sandra had lying around. "Love is strange that way. It comes when you least expect it."
"What about when you don't want it?" I joke.
"Especially when you don't want it," Dandre adds. He munches on the rest of Sandra's chocolate tea biscuits. "See. I do pay attention."
Marta takes another bite of her banoffee pie and takes a deep breath. After too much to drink and a whole lot of bananas and cream, Marta carefully puts her head down on the kitchen table. It doesn't take long before the sound of her snoring fills the room. The three of us cross our arms and face her, satisfied with our ploy to make the night before her wedding unforgettable.
"Y'all better have something extravagant planned for her reception tomorrow," I whisper.
"Oui, oui," Destin and Dandre respond in unison.
"We've put together all of Marta's favorites," Destin responds. "Her mother gave us a list."
"Really?" I bite the side of my lip, impressed by the idea. "What sort of favorites?"
"Childhood favorites," Destin answers.
"You mean like cheese soufflé? I doubt you can make one better than hers."
"And beans on toast," Destin adds.
I wrinkle my nose.
"Beans on toast served at a wedding?" I question him. "Are you crazy?" I rub my forehead, thinking of the look on Marta's face when she's served a plain piece of toast with baked beans poured on top. "I know she loves that dish, but not for her wedding dinner."
"Don't worry." Destin and Dandre chuckle as they both look at each other. "
We know what we're doing."
"Now I know why you insisted on keeping it a secret." I snag a dollop of fresh cream from the bowl. Once our second, chocolate-crusted banoffee pie sets in the fridge, I'll add the cream and banana slices.
"She will love it," Destin says. "You must trust us."
* * *
The morning of Marta's wedding starts off with Sandra running around the house looking for her missing shoe. It took Marta longer than usual to wake from her tea-induced slumber, and now there isn't even time for breakfast. The wedding ceremony at the chapel is scheduled to begin in one hour, and Marta is supposed to be there early.
"Has anyone seen my lipstick?" Marta shouts from her bedroom. "I had it right here on my vanity."
"Oh, it's in my bathroom," Sandra shouts from the staircase. She brings Marta a tray of tea and leftover scones. I finish smoothing Marta's veil for the car ride. Her dress is hanging in the corner, ready for her to put it on after we arrive at the chapel.
Strangely, the only one who has it together this morning is me. I woke up on time after cleaning up Destin and Dandre's mess downstairs. I put on my bridesmaid dress, which fits like a glove, and now I'm ready to run out the door. Marta is not so put together at the moment. She double checks her hair, unsatisfied with the simple up-do she's planned on wearing since the day she bought her wedding dress.
"Thanks, Mum." Marta stares at her cup of tea before drinking it.
"I'll get your lipstick," Sandra says, leaving Marta's bedroom.
"Tell me, Poppy." Marta turns to me. "What exactly happened last night?" She glares at her teacup again.
"Well, we came back here," I begin.
"Yes, that much I remember."
"And you had a bit to drink," I continue.
"I assumed as much." Marta gently touches the bags under eyes. She's covered them with makeup twice already. "Anything else I should know?"
"You almost ate an entire banoffee pie by yourself," I blurt out.
Marta's eyes go wide.
"What?"
"Don't worry, you didn't finish the whole thing." I quietly laugh. "That's what we did last night. We made pies."
