“Hi, Soph!” he called from another room. “C’mon in.”
All things considered, Mars looked better than Vicki. Healthy color flushed his cheeks as he crossed to the sofa. He wore a cream-colored crewneck sweater and faded green trousers. If I hadn’t known about the poisoning, I never would have guessed he’d been ill. He propped his feet on a coffee table and lounged comfortably on the sofa of what appeared to be a two-room suite.
“Nice digs.”
“Natasha pulled some strings. Local celebrity and all that. How’s Mom doing?”
“She’s okay. We’ll all be better once this nightmare is behind us.” I perched on the sofa. “Mars, there’s something you need to know.”
His jaw tightened, an involuntary movement that he made when expecting bad news.
“Someone murdered a private investigator the day before Simon was killed. The police think there’s a connection.”
“I read about it in the paper.”
I swallowed hard. “Natasha had business dealings with the dead PI. She hired him to do something for her.”
Mars rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Are you absolutely sure? How do you know that?”
“I saw a check she wrote for his services.”
“What would she need a PI for?” Mars asked.
“I was hoping you’d know the answer to that. Who did Natasha want Otis to check out?”
The color faded from his cheeks.
“Was it me?” I asked. “Did she hire Otis to follow me?”
Mars blinked at me. “Why would she do that?”
“The day he was murdered, Otis had my picture and name on the dash of his truck.”
“Sophie, that’s awful. I had no idea.” He sat up and scooted toward me. “You should know that Natasha lawyered up the night Simon died.”
FIFTEEN
From “THE GOOD LIFE”:
Dear Sophie,
I’m supposed to bring a pie to my in-laws’ home for a holiday meal. I think I can master the pumpkin filling, but the dough scares me to death. They turn their noses up at premade pie dough so that’s out of the question. As the newest daughter-in-law, I want to please them, but I’m afraid this will be a disaster.
—Pie Novice in Pearisburg
Dear Pie Novice,
Your first holiday feast with new in-laws isn’t the time to try your hand at pie dough. A graham cracker crust is just as tasty, much faster, and virtually goof-proof. To dress it up, pipe whipped cream around the edge. It will hide any uneven spots of crust and look gorgeous, too.
—Sophie
“She’s been advised not to say anything, not one thing, to Wolf or Kenner,” Mars said. “You need to do the same thing to protect yourself. They can twist the most innocent statement.”
“I’ve called a lawyer but I haven’t heard from him yet.”
“Mike Doyle?”
“How did you know?”
“That’s who’s representing Nat. He was at our party the night of the fire. Good grief, it’s been an awful week.”
Vicki pulled a BlackBerry from her pocket. “I have a text message from Andrew. Kenner is on his way up to interview Mars again.” She put the BlackBerry on the table and massaged her temples.
“Chill, Vicki.” If Mars felt any fear of Kenner, he didn’t show it.
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you talking to the police?”
“And take a chance on implicating Nat? No way.”
I pecked Mars on the cheek, said, “Be careful,” and hurried to the door.
Vicki threw her arms around me and held me close.
“Get some sleep,” I said. “Everything will work out. It’s only a matter of time until they find Simon’s killer and then they’ll leave us all alone.”
She smiled weakly. “I hope so. I pray Andrew can keep his mouth shut for once instead of spouting off about how much he hated Simon.”
Unwilling to risk a hostile run-in with Kenner, I took the stairs down to the ballroom level. Even though I knew Mars and Andrew well, Craig’s observation about the Winston brothers haunted me. Could Mars and Andrew have joined forces to kill Simon?
Nina waited for me in the ballroom lobby, barely suppressing her eagerness. “Andrew and I talked to the housekeeping staff. After the cops took down the yellow police tape, one of the housekeepers found a key card on the floor that the police missed. She turned it over to the cops and says they were very excited.”
“Who did it belong to?”
“She didn’t know. She doesn’t use the hotel computers for her job.”
“A lot of people crowded in that room when Simon died. Still, it could be a lead. Think Wolf will tell us about it if we ask?”
Nina appraised me. “Maybe if you flirt with him.”
I wasn’t going that route. But maybe I should reconsider. Flirting worked pretty well for Nina.
The sound of approaching footsteps sent me for the door in an effort to avoid Kenner but Nina lingered.
“Sophie,” she said, “look who it is. Hi!”
Dread welled in my stomach but I turned anyway.
Simon’s driver, Clyde, strode toward Nina.
“Didn’t you work for Simon?” she asked.
His eyes drifted toward me as I joined them.
“Hello, Sophie. Simon was more than a boss.” Clyde mashed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I’d only worked for him a little over a year but he was great. I traveled the world with him, first class all the way. He treated me like family. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for him.”
“The police must be keeping you apprised. What’s the latest on his killer?” I asked.
He snorted. “You’re a suspect. Don’t worry, I’m inclined to think it was Natasha. She’d taken private meetings with Simon before the competition.”
Aside from the implication that she might have been trying to sway his vote in the contest, it put her allegation that I had an unfair advantage in a whole new light.
Nina squinted at him. “What are you doing here?”
His eyebrows shot up and he smiled cynically. “I suppose I ought to ask you that question.” He inspected her head to toe, stopping to take in the huge diamond on her finger, just like Mrs. Pulchinski had.
“We came to visit someone,” said Nina in an irritated voice.
“If this is a contest, then I think I have you beat. I’m staying here.”
His mild amusement only served to further aggravate Nina. I thought I’d better intercede.
“You’re a lot like Simon, aren’t you?”
“I consider that a compliment of the highest order. Simon was a great guy, a good friend.” He looked down at the key card in his hand. “This has been very hard for me. I’m waiting for the police to release his belongings and the body so I can take him to England to be buried. We’d been living in London, you know. He loved it there.”
In spite of his little game with Nina, I felt terrible for him. He’d lost a dear friend and his job and had the unenviable task of seeing to all the funeral details.
I choked out, “I’m very sorry, Clyde.”
He nodded at us and walked away briskly.
Nina stuck out the tip of her tongue like she had a bad taste in her mouth. “What an obnoxious guy. I don’t like him one bit.”
She muttered about Clyde all the way home. When we parked in front of her house, I invited Nina in for a late lunch.
“Thanks, but I’d better get back to pretending I’m a perfect southern domestic goddess like Natasha.”
Poor Nina. “What’s for dinner?”
“Glad you asked—Veal Piccata with Angel Hair Pasta. Alfredo’s is delivering it to your house. Call me when it gets there.” She dug in her purse.
“My house? Why?”
“I don’t want the monster-in-law to know I didn’t make it. It’s already paid for but here’s money for the tip.”
I was on the verge of pointing out that her mother
-in-law would probably notice the absence of a garlic aroma in the air, but when I stepped out of the car, I saw a strange man open the side gate to my property and walk to the back of my house.
“Hey!” I ran across the street and into my backyard.
A team of people dressed in uniforms were searching the ground. Most of them crouched or kneeled. Raising my voice, I said, “Excuse me? What’s going on here?”
Nina caught up to me at the same time Wolf appeared around the corner of the shed in the back.
He strode across to us waving a paper. “Sorry, Sophie. Search warrant for mushrooms.”
“I used them all yesterday.” I shouldn’t have said it. I knew I shouldn’t the moment it came out of my mouth. “That was a joke, Wolf.”
“You need to work on your comedy routine.”
A man bending under a pine near the fence shouted at us. Wolf jogged over, followed by Nina and me.
Two mushrooms grew in the shade. No more than three inches high, they bore bright red caps that drooped like elfin hats. Just as Francie had described them—worthy of a children’s picture book.
Wolf gazed up at me. “Looks like you missed a couple.”
“You can’t think that means anything. I’m sure Nina has them in her yard, too. It’s not like I planted them.”
Nina frowned. “I’ve seen them in parks and near paths in woods. Anyone could have access to them.” She raised her eyebrows at Wolf. “I bet there are tons in Natasha’s garden.”
“Don’t worry about Natasha, her garden has been thoroughly searched.”
“You closing in on her?” asked Nina.
Wolf stood up. “Hardly. You have no idea how many people hated Simon. That man cultivated enemies around the world.”
Relief washed over me like a warm bath. “It’s not just Mars’s and my families then? You have other suspects as well?”
Wolf didn’t answer my question. “We’re almost done here.” He promptly walked away, as though we’d been dismissed.
I closed my eyes. My teeth hurt from clenching them. I thought everything was going to get better—but a search warrant—that was bad news.
Nina threw a comforting arm around me and walked me to the kitchen door before she went home. I let myself in the house, grateful for the loving attention Mochie and Daisy demanded at the door. I petted both, praising them for getting along so very well.
June danced into the kitchen. “I thought I heard someone. How do I look?” She held out her arms and twirled around to show off a silk dress of vivid blue.
“Lovely.” I tossed my jacket over a chair. “What’s the big occasion?”
She placed her palms over her flushed cheeks. “The colonel invited me to dinner. He’ll be here any minute to pick me up.”
June had a date? I couldn’t have been more delighted. She might talk with her deceased sister but I’d seen nothing else to indicate that June needed to live in a home for the infirm. The thought lifted my spirits and I gave her a hug.
“Did you see Wolf?” she asked. “He came with a search warrant for the backyard.”
I didn’t want to dampen her spirits with the news about the mushrooms he found so I just nodded. Through the bay window I saw Wolf and his crew get in their cars and depart.
“Where’s my purse?” she said. “I thought I had it. Sophie, I’m a nervous wreck. I haven’t been out with a man in a decade. Everyone goes dutch now, don’t they? How do I know how much to pay? Do I ask him for the check or will he tell me the amount?”
I found her purse on the console in the foyer. “Think of it as dinner with a girlfriend.”
“That’s a good idea. Yes, I’m feeling calmer already.” The doorbell rang and June cried, “I need a mirror. How’s my hair?”
I grasped her upper arms gently. “You look great. Have a wonderful time.”
I opened the door for the colonel. Dashing in a deep gray overcoat of fine wool, he handed June a peach rose. I was afraid the gesture might make her more nervous but she took it with gracious thanks and a flirtatious glance at the colonel.
When he helped her with her coat, I realized they made a striking couple, both with silvery hair, the colonel tall and authoritative in his bearing in contrast to June’s gentle roundness.
I watched from the stoop as they left. A cold wind kicked up as the colonel’s SUV drove away. Cloudy skies threatened to bring evening shadows early and I still hadn’t eaten lunch.
Daisy wagged her tail and moved in for a dog hug when I closed the door.
“It’s the first time we’ve had the house to ourselves in days, huh, girl?”
She followed me into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator, so laden with leftovers that containers threatened to fall out. In looking for turkey to nibble on, I found two gorgeous pork tenderloins I’d meant to cook before Thanksgiving. I checked the dates on them. They were still good. Pork with cherry sauce, savory rice, and asparagus would be a wonderful break from Thanksgiving foods for my houseguests.
I took out the turkey, sliced off a few pieces, and shared my treat with Mochie and Daisy. The peace didn’t last long. From the kitchen window I saw Nina dashing across the street, waving her arms like a madman. I opened the door and leaned out. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The Peeping Tom,” she panted. “He’s in your backyard.”
Daisy and I rushed outside. Daisy loped ahead into the increasingly dark backyard. Nina paused at the corner of the house. She peeked around the back. “He’s there! He’s looking in your sunroom.”
I wanted to see a Peeping Tom about as much as I wanted to see a snake. Nina stood back and I peered around the corner of my house. The Peeping Tom wore a shabby jacket and an old hat.
Nina whispered, “I’ll call the cops.”
“Not yet.” Something wasn’t right. Daisy sniffed around the Peeping Tom without so much as a growl. “It’s someone we know.”
I heard Nina suck in air. “The killer! I knew it was Natasha.”
I wasn’t so sure it was Natasha but I thought we should find out. “I’m going to run straight back and cross to the other side of the yard. I’ll stick to the shadows. It’s getting so dark, I think I can do it without being seen. Give me about two minutes, then we’ll sneak up on him from both sides.”
Nina seized the back of my shirt. “And then what? What if it’s not Natasha? We say, ‘Oh, please, Mr. Peeping Tom, don’t kill us’?”
She was right. We huddled by the side of the house. “You stay here,” I said. “I’ll get a fireplace poker.”
But just as I took one last look around the corner, I came face-to-face with the Peeping Tom.
SIXTEEN
From “THE GOOD LIFE”:
Dear Sophie,
My husband says I make horrible tea because I heat the water in the microwave. I’m making a spiced holiday tea for a family brunch next week and he insists that I boil the water on the stove. We have a little bet riding on this. I say it doesn’t make a difference. What do you think?
—Teetotaler in Troutdale
Dear Teetotaler,
While the microwave is great for hot chocolate, I have to side with your husband about tea. Microwaved tea usually tastes flat. For full body and flavor, bring your water to a boil on the stove and pour it over tea bags or leaves.
If you must microwave water, be very careful. It can easily overheat and explode extremely hot water on you and the microwave.
—Sophie
I screamed.
The Peeping Tom screamed.
Nina screamed.
Daisy finally barked, no doubt happy about all the excitement.
The Peeping Tom clutched at his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Francie.
Not again. “Come on in, Francie.” She’d better have a good explanation this time.
The three of us trudged back to the kitchen. Half frozen, Nina started a fire while I put on the kettle for tea. Francie took off her floppy hat and
slumped in a chair to catch her breath. I should have been nicer but Francie’s antics grated on me. I crossed my arms and counted to ten so I wouldn’t be too rude when I demanded an explanation.
The Diva Runs Out of Thyme Page 13
