Gabriel leaned back in his chair. “Not necessarily. Maybe they’ll fall madly in love and live happily ever after.”
I laughed and carried the plate to the table. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up. And more seriously, the police still don’t know how Destiny actually died. What if Scotty killed her?”
Gabriel reached for a pecan ball, but his eyes clouded. “You really think he could’ve killed his own daughter?”
“It’s a possibility,” I said. “He doesn’t really have an alibi. Moose vouched for him, but what if Moose is lying? He was ready to divorce Destiny if she started using again—which she had. I told you what Edgar said, didn’t I? That she’d spent so much money before she went to rehab, the Chopper Shop was in serious trouble?”
“Do you know that for a fact?”
I went back to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of napkins. “Moose admitted that he let her spend whatever she wanted. If she spent him into a deep hole he couldn’t get out of, that might give him a pretty strong motive for wanting her out of the way, especially if there’s insurance involved.”
“Assuming she didn’t actually die of an accidental overdose.”
“I know she didn’t.” I tapped my chest over my heart. “In here.”
“Rita—”
“Just hear me out,” I said. “She really wanted to turn her life around. She had a deal with the district attorney to reduce the charges, or maybe drop them completely, if she gave them the name of her dealer. You heard what she said at the meeting. I’m sure she planned to do it.”
“She was using again,” Gabriel pointed out. “Maybe she wanted to change, but addiction is a hard thing to beat.”
“I know that, but somebody almost hit me with that van right after she hinted about that deal. I was talking to Moose at the time. The driver could have thought I was Destiny. Or maybe he knew I wasn’t Destiny and planned the attack as a diversion.”
“Because he was planning to kill her on Wednesday morning.” Gabriel sounded skeptical.
“When he knew she’d be at the shop early—and alone. Think about it, Gabriel. We only have Moose’s word, and Scotty’s, that she told them to sleep in that morning. What if she didn’t? What if they made that up so it would sound like a last-minute decision?”
Gabriel chewed for a moment. “But why would either of them do that?”
“I don’t think Scotty and Destiny were that close,” I said, putting the napkins on the table next to the cookies. “He said himself that he wasn’t around much when she was growing up. And he told me she wasn’t all that happy to have him around. The only reason he moved in with them was to make sure she didn’t start using again. Maybe he was fed up with the drugs and the screwing around. From what I hear, Destiny wasn’t all that particular about who she slept with. Maybe Scotty was tired of her ruining the family name.”
Gabriel shook his head slowly and patted the chair beside his. “Sit down, Rita.”
“Why? So you can tell me I’m getting involved where I shouldn’t? So you can warn me I’m going to get myself hurt?”
“No, so you can rest. You look like you could fall over any second. And I want to look at your face while I’m talking to you. It’s hard to carry on a conversation when the other person is moving all over the place. So you sit. I’ll get the coffee when it’s ready.” I didn’t move. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the chair. “I mean it, Rita. Sit.” When I did, he took both of my hands in his. “You want to know the other reason I came over tonight?”
I nodded uncertainly. “Sure . . . I think.”
“You know how I feel about you getting into dangerous situations.” I started to argue with him, but he put two fingers on my lips and kept talking. “I don’t know what it is about police investigations that revs your engine, but they do. Until tonight, I figured this one was like the others and I was all set to tell you to back off and butt out. But that cop—Winslow—was in the Duke tonight, talking to people. About you.”
My heart dropped into my stomach and they both crashed to the floor. I didn’t know whether to cry or throw up. “What did he want?”
“He was trying to find somebody who’d tell him you and Moose are sleeping together.”
Crying was off the table as an option. I was definitely going to be sick to my stomach. It didn’t matter whether it was true or not—give some people enough alcohol and they’ll say anything. “And did he? Find someone?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Not that I know of. I vouched for you and so did Old Dog Leg.” Old Dog Leg was a friend of mine, an old blind jazz musician who occasionally sat in with the house band at the Dizzy Duke.
I appreciated Dog Leg’s loyalty, but I didn’t expect Detective Winslow to put much stock in the word of a blind man. He’d probably use Dog Leg’s physical limitations to challenge any testimony the old man gave.
“I don’t know what Winslow has against you,” Gabriel said. “But it’s obvious the guy’s trying to pin something on you. So I’m here to warn you, and also to offer my help.”
Had I heard that right? My heart was beating so loudly, I couldn’t be sure. “Your help?”
“Hey,” he said, giving my hands another gentle squeeze. “Don’t sound so surprised. You know we make a good team. I know you didn’t give Destiny drugs, and if you need help proving that to Detective Wingnut, I’m your man. So tell me what you need from me. I’m at your service. Other than Scotty and Moose, who else is on the suspect list?”
I could only blink at him. Blink. Blink. “Aquanettia,” I said when the cogs in my brain were running in sync again. “There were some real issues between them. I’ve heard from more than one person that Destiny made a play for her sons, Isaiah and Keon.”
Gabriel nodded slowly. “I’ve heard the same rumors—usually about Keon. Isaiah keeps his nose clean, but Keon’s had his own issues with drugs, and he has connections. I’m sure Destiny used those whenever she could—however she could.”
Blink. Blink. “Keon’s an addict?”
“Recovering. He seems to be doing well, but I’m sure that if Aquanettia thought Destiny was trying to pull her baby boy back into the life, she’d have come out swinging.”
Aquanettia’s name took a giant step to the top of my mental suspects list. “Why hasn’t anyone else mentioned that?”
“Circling the wagons, I’d guess. Aquanettia and the boys have lived here forever. You’re . . . new. People around here don’t air their dirty laundry in front of strangers.”
My breath caught and that old feeling of not belonging made my stomach lurch again. I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, getting me involved with the community was the excuse Miss Frankie used for signing me up for the alliance in the first place. “But a woman is dead,” I reasoned. “And Keon’s past might have a direct bearing on how she died. And the police are trying to pin the responsibility for her death on me.” A new thought occurred to me and I gasped aloud. “Do the others think I’m guilty?”
Gabriel shook his head, which might have made me feel better if he hadn’t also answered my question. “I’m sure they don’t. Really. The thing is, nobody really knows you.”
I’m pretty sure my heart stopped beating completely. “But I’ve been here a year—”
Gabriel touched my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Baby, you could live here twenty years and you’d still be the new girl in town. But we’ll get this straightened out. I promise you that.”
I held on to that promise with both hands. I had to. It was the only lifeline I had. “So Aquanettia had a good reason to want Destiny out of the way, and if Keon is really trying to stay away from drugs, maybe he was trying to get Destiny to back off.”
“Or maybe Isaiah was protecting his little brother,” Gabriel agreed. “Anyone else?”
“Edgar had some kind of relationship with her,” I said. “And Felix sure wanted her removed from the alliance. He knew that she was using drugs again. Maybe he really wanted to protect the neig
hborhood from her. And half the alliance was on his side before we took the vote,” I reminded him. “It could be almost anyone.”
“So where do we go from here?” Gabriel asked. “Do we check alibis? Look for witnesses? Go over the crime scene searching for evidence? Do we need gloves? Baggies? Give me a job and I’ll do it.”
His offer was just about the nicest thing anyone had ever given me. I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “We keep our eyes and our ears open,” I said. “If you get a chance to talk to someone who might have information, take it. But don’t let Detective Winslow catch you. I don’t want him to decide you were an accomplice or something.”
The coffeemaker beeped to let me know it was finished brewing and Gabriel got up to gather everything we’d need. I hated knowing that Detective Winslow was still hot on my trail, and I had no idea whether Gabriel and I could clear my name. But knowing that he was on my side made me feel better than I’d felt in days.
Twenty-two
I slept fitfully until sunrise Sunday morning, and then finally gave up trying. I had too much on my mind to rest. Gabriel’s late-night visit had left me hurt, confused, and grateful for his friendship. I just didn’t know which one was strongest.
I went downstairs and caught a glimpse of overcast sky and a few drops of rain spattering against the window as I put on a fresh pot of coffee and stirred together a batch of blueberry muffins. Zydeco is closed on Sundays and I didn’t want to be around people anyway, so I spent the morning taking care of a few chores. I’d ignored the house for too long.
By the time I started a load of laundry, the sky had darkened and the storm had gathered strength. I turned on the television and listened with half an ear while I dusted, ran the vacuum, and wiped down the bathroom sinks and counters. While the laundry dried, I tried my hand at a crossword puzzle, unloaded the dishwasher, and arranged my spices in alphabetical order. And the whole time I worked, I thought. A lot. Right up until the local news anchor started talking about the murder of local businesswoman Destiny Hazen.
Shaking like a leaf, I sat down in front of the TV just in time to catch the anchor’s interview with Detective Winslow. He’d actually cleaned up for his fifteen minutes of fame. His hair was brushed, his suit clean and unwrinkled. In fact, he looked almost trustworthy as he explained that the police had determined that Destiny’s overdose had been accompanied by some suspicious bruising and a few other unnamed pieces of evidence. Those led them to conclude that she had been murdered.
My stomach rolled over when I thought about him making this announcement on a Sunday morning. They must have been working on it all weekend. Not good.
Based on forensic evidence, the police placed the time of death somewhere between midnight and seven in the morning. I found her around nine, so she’d been dead at least a couple of hours before I got there. I didn’t know whether to high-five myself for calling it first, or bury my head in my hands and cry. Meanwhile, Detective Winslow was assuring the good citizens of New Orleans that an arrest in the Destiny Hazen murder case was imminent.
Maybe the general population of the city felt better hearing that. I suddenly felt a whole lot worse.
I turned off the TV and puttered around the house for a little while longer, but the interview had rattled me. I needed to get outside. I wasn’t going to find Destiny’s killer in my kitchen. I couldn’t clear my name from the laundry room. And I couldn’t think about anything else.
I decided to go in to work for a few hours. I was seriously behind on paperwork, and I had a blog entry to write, bills to pay, and a staff meeting Monday morning I wasn’t fully prepared for, all of which gave me a better than average chance of keeping my mind occupied.
Battling wind and rain, I drove across town and was all set to park on the street in front of Zydeco when I saw Scotty and Pearl Lee walking under a huge, family-sized umbrella. Scotty wore a red Hawaiian print shirt, shorts, and sandals. Pearl Lee wore a red suit and matching pumps, which she carefully protected from puddles.
What was she doing here, with Scotty, on a Sunday? Was she completely oblivious, or had she heard that the police had just announced his daughter had been murdered? I hadn’t forgotten Scotty’s warning and he still made me nervous. But Miss Frankie would never forgive me if I let Pearl Lee get herself hurt or killed.
I decided to follow them, though it wasn’t easy to do in the rain—especially since I couldn’t exactly pretend to be out for a casual stroll. Luckily, they were too engrossed in their conversation to care what was going on around them. After about half a block, Pearl Lee let go of Scotty’s hand and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He dropped his head and stood there, letting the rain hit him on the back. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care.
After a minute, they walked on, and when they reached the corner market, they slipped inside out of the storm. I arrived a few minutes later—it took me a while to figure out that my umbrella had rolled under the front seat—to find them standing in front of the beer cooler, Pearl Lee leaning into Scotty and giving him an unobstructed view of her various charms.
I groaned out loud and at the same time heard a sharp intake of breath coming from behind me. I turned and found Zora staring at the two of them with wide, hurt eyes. Her pale hair hung in limp wet strands to her chin and her plain face seemed even rounder and wider than usual. She saw me looking at her and turned away quickly but she looked so wounded I couldn’t just let her go.
“Zora? Wait!” I hurried after her, slipping a little on the wet floor.
She kept going, remarkably surefooted in her rubber-soled orthopedics. She pushed through the door and out into the parking lot. I hesitated for a heartbeat and then raced outside after her. Call me crazy, but I was guessing her feelings for Scotty went a little deeper than friendship after all.
For a woman her size, she sure moved fast! By the time I got outside, she was already half a block away.
Using my umbrella as a shield against the rain, I ducked my head and jogged after her. “Zora! Wait! Please! I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Cars passing on the street splashed water onto the sidewalk, and the sound of the rain hitting the pavement made it hard to hear. So when Zora looked over her shoulder and wiped a lock of rain-soaked hair out of her eyes, I was surprised. I was even more surprised that she actually stopped and waited for me to catch up to her.
She put her hands on her full hips and stared me down. “What?”
“I just—I—” I stepped over a dried palm frond on the sidewalk and tried to catch my breath. “Look, I’m sorry about Pearl Lee. She’s a bit out of control.”
Zora squinted at me in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“The woman with Scotty. She’s been working with me at Zydeco. I know she’s a bit over the top. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if she upset you.”
“Oh. That.” She barked a laugh and shook rain from her collar. “You don’t really think I care about her?”
“Well . . . yes. I mean, you seemed surprised to see them together. I thought you looked hurt.”
“Hurt?” Zora smirked and started walking again. “Oh, honey, Scotty’s a friend, that’s all. He’s free to see whoever he wants and so am I.”
Then why had she just stormed out of the market? “So the two of you aren’t a couple?”
“Of course not.”
“Why did I think you were?”
She raked an impatient look across my face and stepped under an awning. “I’m sure I don’t know.”
“You seemed so comfortable the day I came by to offer my condolences about Destiny. Almost like you were one of the family.”
Her lips curved, but the smile didn’t even come close to her eyes. “I felt sorry for those two men, that’s all. They seemed so lost when Destiny died. So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about? That’s what was so important you had to chase me down in the middle of a rainstorm?”
“I told you, I was concerned about you. I’m
glad you’re okay.”
“Oh. Well . . .” She looked a little sheepish. “Thank you.”
“I guess you’ve heard the news about Destiny?”
“What news is that?”
I told her about the news story I’d just seen and watched her recoil in shock. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I haven’t had the TV on today.”
“You knew Destiny pretty well, didn’t you?”
“Me? No.”
“Oh. I thought you did from the way you were talking at the alliance meeting.”
“You must have gotten the wrong impression,” she said. “I barely knew her at all.”
“But you said things about her relationship with Moose—about how he let her get away with murder.”
Zora laughed, but it sounded more like she was clearing her throat. “Goodness, Rita. Everyone in the neighborhood knew how Destiny was. Everyone knows that she put Moose through the wringer.”
“It wasn’t my imagination, Zora. I sat right there and heard you say those things.”
“But you’re imagining some kind of ‘special relationship’ that just doesn’t exist.” She used both hands to put air quotes around the phrase. “I’m friendly with Moose and with Scotty, but no friendlier than anyone else in the neighborhood. What is it to you anyway?”
If Zora didn’t know that Detective Winslow had me on his short list of suspects, I saw no reason to tell her. “The police haven’t solved Destiny’s murder,” I said. “And I was nearly hit by someone who stole a van from Second Chances just before she died. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that the driver was someone who saw the opportunity to hurt Moose or Destiny but hurt me instead. I’m sure you can understand why I’m concerned.”
A gust of wind showered us both with rain and Zora moved a little closer to the building. “You said the other day that you thought the two incidents might be related, but surely you’re wrong.”
The Cakes of Wrath (A Piece of Cake Mystery) Page 19
