The Diva Cooks up a Storm

by Krista Davis

  Bee’s Knees in Clover, South Carolina

  Dear Bee’s Knees,

  Have you lost your mind? Do you know how dandelions blow in the wind and spread? And they’re near to impossible to eradicate. Clean up your yard, Bee’s Knees!

  Natasha

  “You mean you saw Kelsey at the dinner?” I asked.

  “I saw her when I went to my dad’s house. I guess I was spying.”

  “You guess?”

  “I didn’t know exactly what I would do when I got there. I thought I might knock on the door and talk to my dad. But then I was afraid she might answer the door, and that would have been awful. I couldn’t take seeing her there where my mom should be.”

  A shiver went up my spine. I didn’t want to report him for murder. “Did you have a key, Gavin?”

  He nodded. “Sure. I lived there before she came along. It was my house. My yard. My tree house and my basketball hoop. But I didn’t go in. I sat in the tree house until she left.”

  That caught me by surprise. “Kelsey left the house?”

  “Yeah, the lights went out in the master bedroom. I thought they had gone to bed.”

  “But you didn’t leave?”

  “I know it’s silly, but I spent a lot of time in the backyard as a kid. So I was kind of just sitting in my old tree house when she walked out of the house. I thought she had caught me, but she walked right on by like I didn’t exist. I guess she didn’t notice me in the dark.”

  “What time was that?”

  Gavin shrugged in the “Who cares?” way that teenagers do. “I followed her.”

  “Gavin!”

  “See? You said that just like my mom would have.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “A house on Duke Street.”

  “And?”

  “She went inside, and I started getting texts from my mom, who had discovered that I threw my comforter over pillows so it would look like I was asleep. So I finally went home.”

  “Then you lied to your mom.”

  “You don’t know what it’s been like, Mrs. Winston. I knew she’d flip out. And she’d have told my dad. He would have hated me for following the one-who-shall-remain-nameless. It was wrong to sneak out, but if they all knew I was spying on my dad, I would have been grounded until I was thirty-five.”

  They would have been upset for a lot of reasons. But Gavin didn’t seem to realize the grave importance of what he’d just told me. Kelsey could have exposed Hollis to a pesticide and left the house. That would explain why she hadn’t been impacted as severely as Hollis.

  “Gavin, can you describe the house the one-who-shall-remain-nameless went to?”

  “Sure. It was blue, and it had a weird door knocker in the shape of an upside-down octopus.” He gazed at me. “Or are they right-side-up when their heads are down?”

  That was more like the old Gavin I knew. “All right. I’m not going to tell your mom. But if she asks me, I’m not going to lie for you.” That was fair, wasn’t it?

  “Deal. I can live with that. You think the one-who-shall-remain-nameless poisoned him and then left the house so she wouldn’t have to sleep next to a dead man?”

  Ewww! “Good grief, Gavin! I hope not. But if you remember anything else, you let me know. Okay?”

  He stood up and nodded. “Thanks for not ratting on me.” He looked away and didn’t face me when he asked, “Are you on to her? Are you going to prove that she murdered my dad?”

  I was at a total loss. How should I answer that? I stood up. “Wolf is looking into your dad’s death, Gavin.”

  “I wish you were doing it. Would you if I asked you to?”

  “Gavin, I’m not a professional. Wolf will get to the bottom of it.”

  “What if your dad married a bimbo and died under suspicious circumstances?”

  Ouch! This kid knew how to reach a person’s core. I already felt guilty for not convincing Hollis to go to the police about Kelsey poisoning him. Imagining that it had been my dad in Hollis’s shoes was awful. I would have been like the determined bees that follow people for half a mile because they disturbed the nest. “I can’t guarantee anything, Gavin. Is there anything else I should know?”

  Gavin launched himself at me for a hug. He looked a little embarrassed when he stepped back. “I . . . uh, I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.” He turned and walked away.

  “Gavin? Do not get involved in this. If you do, I’ll tell your mother everything. I’m not kidding.” If he was anything like Hollis, he wouldn’t listen to me and would do what he wanted. Not again. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “Now you listen to me, Gavin Haberman. I’m serious. People who murder won’t think twice about doing it again. You stay out of this.”

  He didn’t seem to be cowed in the least. “Maybe I should just call your mom.” At least it might not weigh on my conscience as much.

  A hint of a grin crept onto his face. “She thinks the same thing I do. It’s just a matter of catching the one-who-shall-remain-nameless.” Gavin walked away.

  It looked like I would be making another trip to the library this afternoon. And I wanted to know who lived in the blue house with the octopus on the door.

  I unlocked the door to check on Mochie. He was sitting in the bay window in the kitchen, watching the street.

  “Do you miss Daisy?” I asked.

  Mochie purred but didn’t seem particularly distressed about being home alone. Cats were cool about solitude.

  I stroked him a few times, then locked up again and headed to the library, thinking that I was no better than Hollis. I had so wanted to believe that Kelsey didn’t kill him. Everyone else suspected her. Everyone!

  I turned the corner and rushed to the library. I pulled open the door and dashed inside. Cindy was in the office, talking with someone.

  Impatient, I waited for her to finish. As I paced, I spied Trula and Jay in the special collections room.

  Trula looked up from her work and waved me in.

  I glanced back. Cindy was still busy. I stepped inside and asked, “How’s the research going?”

  Trula pretended to sag. “You won’t believe this, but Jay’s research and mine appear to be intersecting. He’s making far better progress than I am, though.”

  “It appears,” said Jay, “that Mr. Dixon resided in my house when he was a spy. At least for a time, as far as we can tell.”

  “Wow! That’s so cool,” I said. “I’d like to do some research on my house one day.”

  Trula raised her eyebrows and said, “I understand Kelsey is being represented by your Alex.”

  “We don’t need cell phones in Old Town,” I joked. “News moves at the speed of light.”

  “Well, it was just so obvious to everyone with a brain. Younger woman moves in on wealthy man in terrible physical condition and then he dies. I saw her buying those four cans of fogger at the hardware store only hours before Hollis died. She didn’t even try to hide what she was doing.”

  I blinked at Trula. “You saw her buying fogger? You mean, like bug bombs? The kind you set off inside your house?”

  “That’s exactly my point. Who buys foggers to kill bees?”

  “Someone who has them inside the house,” I said.

  “Sophie! When are you and Alex tying the knot? You’re already defending his clients. You might as well be a team.” She pointed at the four-carat rock on her finger.

  I ignored her silliness, mostly because the presence of foggers sealed up the whole scenario and made more sense than bee spray. “I presume you told Wolf this information?”

  Trula slapped a hand on her chest. “I have never liked being a tattletale.” She turned to Jay. “Hah! I would have made a terrible spy. But I do believe it’s my duty to report something as crucial as this, don’t you?”

  “When did you tell Wolf?”

  “This morning. Honestly, with the storm and Parker making such a fuss about those cheeses, it just went right out of my head.”

  “T
ell me what you saw.”

  “It was all quite innocent. I happened to be in the hardware store—”

  “What were you buying?” I asked.

  She licked her lips. “Silver polish. I never allow my silver to tarnish. And I happened to see Kelsey buying bug bombs. I remember it because I was appalled. I mean, bugs in the house?” She squished up her face in disgust. “Speaking of silver, I wonder if Kelsey even has any to put out for the post-funeral lunch. I haven’t heard a thing about a memorial service for poor Hollis. Have you?”

  “I don’t think they’ve released his body yet.”

  Trula flipped her hand. “This should be interesting. I wonder if she’ll be arrested before then. Who would make the arrangements? Oh! There’s Cindy now. I need to speak to her anyway. I’ve lost my purse!”

  It was probably a terrible breach of Southern etiquette, but I shot out the door before Trula even finished speaking. I said very quietly to Cindy, “We need to talk about Gavin right now.”

  Trula was breathless when she arrived. “Cindy, sweetheart, is there a lost and found in the library? I think I left my purse here yesterday, but I don’t see it anywhere.”

  Cindy took everything in stride. Calmly she said, “Trula, we keep the lost and found box behind the circulation desk. Ask if you can have a look. Sophie, follow me.”

  Trula didn’t let her go, though. “Cindy, will you be hosting the memorial service for Hollis in the event that Kelsey is already in the slammer? I’m wondering when and to whom I should bring a casserole. It would be so awkward to bring it to Hollis’s murderer. That has to be a major breach of etiquette.”

  Cindy’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water. She didn’t even manage to say “excuse us.” She simply turned and propelled me to a private room.

  Cindy took a deep breath. “What is she talking about? Have they arrested Kelsey?”

  “No, she’s just speculating. You know how Southerners are about funerals.”

  “I think people are forgetting that Hollis was once very dear to me. They think his death hasn’t impacted me one bit, which isn’t the case at all.”

  “I’m sorry. I guess so many people have bad divorces that they forget some people love their ex-husbands.”

  “That’s right! Like you and Mars. Goodness, but he would be devastated if anything happened to you.” She placed her hands over her eyes briefly. “Trula drives me up a wall. She acted like I was the bee’s knees when I was married to Hollis. Once we separated, she treated me like dirt. It was as though she couldn’t be bothered with me once I wasn’t attached to Hollis. And now she’s doing all this genealogy research and suddenly I’m the queen bee again. She introduced me to someone as a dear old friend! If I’m ever like that, I hope you’ll knock some sense into me.” She huffed in dismay. “So what has Gavin done now?”

  I tried to choose my words carefully. “He’s such a wonderful kid. He thinks Kelsey murdered Hollis.”

  Cindy was clearly unimpressed. “So do I. So does Trula and everyone else in Old Town. What’s wrong with that?”

  “I’m afraid he’s going to try to spy on her or snoop around.”

  “That boy.” Cindy shook her head. “He’s been a surprise since the day he was conceived. I didn’t think I could have children. Hollis and I tried and tried. We went to experts and they put us through tests, but it just never happened. And then one day, when we least expected it, I was pregnant. We spoiled him terribly. Who wouldn’t? We knew he was the only child we would ever have.”

  “He turned out pretty great in spite of that.”

  “I like to think so.”

  “I just don’t want him playing sleuth and getting into trouble.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Sophie. I’ll keep an eye on him.” She left the room and was immediately accosted by Trula.

  I strode out of the library into the sunshine. I had done everything I could. Something strange had been going on with Hollis, and it was beginning to seem that the more curious it got, the more I was drawn into his drama.

  I strolled along, deep in thought, but when I reached the hardware store, I couldn’t help going inside. I found the section with foggers and studied them. Kelsey had stood right here contemplating which brand to buy to kill Hollis. It was chilling to the core. I looked up the aisle and down the other way. Where had Trula been to see Kelsey’s purchase?

  “May I help you?” asked an elderly gentleman whom I recognized as a part-owner of the store.

  “My friend Trula Dixon was raving about the silver polish she bought here the other day.”

  “She must be mistaken. Perhaps she bought silver polish elsewhere. I recall Mrs. Dixon’s purchase quite well. She bought four cans of fogger. I remember because we had a run on them that day. Mrs. Haberman purchased some, too.”

  Chapter 18

  Dear Sophie,

  My mom took in her nieces and raised them with her own children until her death. Do we list them as survivors, or is it only appropriate to mention those who were actually born to her or adopted?

  Oldest Sister in Looneyville, Oregon

  Dear Oldest Sister,

  By all means include the children whom she raised as her own. They will be pleased, and she undoubtedly would be, too.

  Sophie

  “Trula Dixon?” I asked to be absolutely certain we were talking about the same person.

  “Yes, ma’am. Four cans, just like Mrs. Haberman. We joked about it because we can go months without selling one can of the stuff. And those two ladies wiped us out within minutes.”

  He must have thought I’d lost my mind because I just stood there thinking wild thoughts about Trula. “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

  I wandered out, feeling a little bit dazed. Trula. Was there some kind of rift between Parker and Hollis? Did Parker have a reason to want to knock off Hollis? Maybe we had been too quick to laugh off the possibility that Parker had gotten rid of both of his law partners, Hollis and Gage. Was Trula helping him?

  Who would have information about Gage’s death besides Madison? Pondering that, I turned off King Street and headed for Duke Street. There were quite a few blue houses in Old Town, but I couldn’t recall having seen an octopus door knocker. I found the place within fifteen minutes.

  It was a narrow older house. The oval plaque designating it as a historical building was proudly displayed on the wood wall. A single dormer window jutted from a roof that slanted a bit too much and appeared to be in need of repair. Next to the stairs that led to the front door, a basement window no larger than one foot by one foot was beside a door so tiny that a hobbit couldn’t have fit inside. It must have replaced the original ice cellar door. The mail slot in the front door meant there was no mailbox with a name on it.

  The house shared walls with the houses on the left and the right. The house on the right was significantly larger and three stories tall. I counted the number of houses to the corner and walked around the block to see if there was an alley.

  I was in luck. Maybe the rear of the house would give me a clue about the owner or tenant. I counted again to make sure I had the correct house from the rear. I was about two narrow houses away when a Mustang with a rusted-out driver’s side door whipped by me. Angus Bogdanoff was driving it.

  That couldn’t have been a coincidence. Was it Francie who had suggested that Kelsey was having an affair? Maybe she was right.

  I continued to the small parking pad from which the car had emerged. The rear of the house was white and much more modern than the front, which wasn’t all that unusual in Old Town. But I was certain it was the same house because of the shabby roof and the fact that the next house over was taller.

  I didn’t know exactly what I had expected to find, but it sure wasn’t this. Kelsey mentioned visiting Angus in the hospital the day he had been stung. Had she gone to his house during the daytime, I might have assumed she was bringing him food or checking on him. But she went there by herself at night a
fter her husband went to bed and was probably fast asleep.

  I stared at the rear of the house, trying to put it all together. Hollis had suspected Kelsey of poisoning him. Maybe she was on to him and switched to another type of poison.

  There had been two problems with the bee spray. It was difficult to imagine that Hollis wouldn’t have awakened if Kelsey had sprayed it in his face while he slept. And even Jay Charles had said it was unlikely a few whiffs of it would have killed him. But bug bombs were another thing entirely. If they had been set off while Hollis was fast asleep, maybe he could have inhaled too much of the stuff.

  How long had Kelsey been seeing Angus? Had she met him when he was hired as the Haberman handyman, or had she known him all along? Had she married Hollis for his money, planning to murder him and make a life with Angus?

  It was too depressing to imagine this had been a grand scheme and they had actually managed to pull it off. Poor Hollis. She had sucked him right into her arms and then stung him. The woman I hadn’t wanted to imagine doing something like that had ruined the lives of a happy family. Hollis was gone, and things would never be the same for Cindy or Gavin.

  I was turning to leave when I heard a scream and a crash. Unless I missed my guess, they came from Angus’s house. I ran through the parking pad and short backyard.

  “Hello?” I called. I listened but didn’t hear anything. “Hello? Do you need help?”

  I heard a low moan and the sound of knocking. Thunk, thunk, thunk. I stepped back and examined the rear of the building. It was tiny. There was a back door and only one window on the first floor. The basement was underground on this side.

  “Where are you? Do you need help?”

  More thunking. The old townhouse butted directly against the houses beside it. There was no access on either side. “I’m going around to the front,” I yelled as loud as I could.