Devil's Food Cake

by Josi S. Kilpack

  She wasn’t surprised to find the book in the room, considering that Josh maintained a close relationship with the author. She pulled the book—braced by fantasy novels on either side—from the shelf and looked at the cover. She couldn’t help but think of the other copy she’d opened backstage a couple of hours ago and the note written inside of it. She opened the cover of Josh’s copy, wondering if there was a note in this one too. There was! She immediately noticed, though, that the handwriting in this copy was not the same as the handwriting in the one she’d found backstage.

  Josh,

  Sometimes the hardest things we do provide us with the greatest opportunity. Here’s to a triumphant future for both of us.

  Thom Mortenson

  Sadie read the inscription twice, wondering if that was the kind of thing authors typically wrote in books. She flipped to the copyright page, running her finger down the paper until she reached the year of publication: 2003. She looked up at the bulletin board where a ribbon said “Class of 2003.” The book had been published the same year Josh had gone off to an expensive art school. When Sadie had asked Josh who had paid for his schooling, he’d become defensive enough to tip Sadie off that it hadn’t been the scholarship his mother was so proud of.

  Sadie closed the book and returned it to the shelf, catching sight of a pair of wire-framed glasses on the next shelf up. She’d already known her unexpected arrival had interrupted Josh’s preparations to leave. Had he left something else behind besides his glasses?

  Did she have time to look? Her head was killing her, and she had no idea whether Mrs. Hender was coming back. And Shawn!

  Her stomach sank all over again, and she questioned why she had sent him after Josh at all. But she’d thought she’d be calling the police within minutes, then she’d call Shawn, or have them call Shawn, and they could all figure out where he was so the police could take over the pursuit. How long had it been since he’d left? Five minutes? Ten? She couldn’t be sure and felt horrible she hadn’t thought about him sooner. Having her kids in college and not a part of her daily life was no excuse. What kind of mother was she?

  She had to get to the phone.

  On her way to the door, however, fear washed over her again. Was Mrs. Hender out there? Remembering, again, that she’d come into this room in search of a means of defending herself, she made a final scan, hoping she would stay focused this time. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  There was a lamp on the bedside table. She headed toward it, but didn’t look where she was going and tripped over a pile of clothing heaped on the floor. She managed to catch herself on the edge of the bed and reached down with her other hand to untangle her ankles, only then realizing that she’d tripped over the tuxedo Josh had been wearing at the fund-raiser. He apparently hadn’t had time to hang it up. Consequently, she did not have time to be slowed up by it.

  As she threw the trousers of the tux away from her, however, a key tumbled to the floor. Sadie lifted her eyebrows and then reached down for the key. Apparently Josh hadn’t thought to double-check his pockets before he ran from the house. The top of the key was encased in an orange plastic cap with the numbers 649 printed in white letters. The first thing she thought of was the lockers at the community pool. They had pins through the top, though, and this one didn’t. She turned it over and saw there were more numbers written in black marker on the back. She brought the key close to her face so she could read them: 29184. What is the key for? Sadie wondered, looking back at the pants in her hand. If Josh hadn’t checked his pockets for the key, could something else have been left behind?

  She slipped the key into her jacket pocket before searching the pants pockets. They were both empty. Sadie moved on to the tux jacket. The two inside pockets were empty, but as she went to lay it over the bed to keep it from becoming even more wrinkled, her fingers found a lump of some kind. It took a little investigating before she realized that whatever it was had been put in the small pocket on the front of the jacket. Sadie had always thought that one was mostly for decoration. She reached in and pulled out a silver disk about the size of a nickel but three times as thick. It seemed extremely heavy for its small size and looked a lot like a large watch battery, though without the little engraved numbers.

  She moved to put it on the nightstand, but at the last moment she reconsidered and dropped it in her pocket with the key—just in case. The police bagged everything, even if they thought it was unimportant. She should do the same.

  Ready to make her exit, she picked up the lamp, removed the shade, and turned the lamp upside down to make a better weapon of the pewter stand. She pulled the cord from the wall, allowing it to trail after her while she eased into the hallway, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she anticipated what she might find on the other side of the door. After looking both ways and listening for any noises that might indicate someone else was in the house, Sadie moved toward the kitchen. She paused, listening once again, and then stepped into the kitchen.

  The phone that had been mounted on the wall was now in a heap on the floor, the multicolored wires sticking out of the wall haphazardly. Why hadn’t Mrs. Hender used the phone to call the police? Sadie was in her home; she had cause. Sadie leaned to the left and looked out the window. The door to the garage was open, revealing the cavernous interior. Mrs. Hender did have a second car. She’d knocked Sadie out and left her in the hallway. Why?

  Sadie wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  It was time to leave and bang on a neighbor’s door. Sadie didn’t even pause this time, didn’t allow herself to feel any regret at leaving behind Josh’s house and the information it might hold. She’d been here too long already! Still holding the lamp out in front of her, Sadie headed for the front door with small, quick steps. The promise of being outside put extra motivation beneath her feet.

  She was almost to the front door when someone knocked.

  Sadie nearly tripped over herself in an attempt to stop her forward motion and managed to bang the lamp into her knee. Ouch. The recognition of pain, however, was short-lived, lost in the sudden and intense fear that hit her full-on, sufficiently hijacking her thoughts.

  Someone was here!

  Who?

  It was nearly 10:30. Who came knocking at this time of night? She didn’t know what to do. Run to the back door and slip out that way? Hope they’d go away if no one answered? Hide, in case they came in?

  She didn’t realize how long she stood there analyzing her options until the doorbell sounded, startling her. Sadie proceeded to the door with caution, paused, and then peered through the peephole while trying to summon some optimistic thoughts. Maybe it was the police come to save her, thanks to a tip from Shawn—or to arrest her, thanks to a tip from Mrs. Hender. But the face pulled out of proportion by the peephole lens wasn’t that official. Sadie had to take a second look.

  “Thom?” she whispered.

  Heavenly Hot Wings

  1⁄2 cup soy sauce

  1⁄3 cup packed brown sugar

  1 tablespoon vegetable oil

  1⁄2 teaspoon minced fresh ginger root (or 1 teaspoon ground ginger)

  3⁄4 teaspoon garlic powder

  1⁄2 teaspoon cayenne pepper *

  1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce (optional)

  1⁄2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

  2 pounds chicken wings (or legs)

  Blue cheese or ranch dressing (for dipping)

  In a medium bowl, combine soy sauce, brown sugar, oil, ginger, garlic powder, and cayenne pepper. (Add Tabasco sauce and red pepper flakes if you like your hot wings hot.) Stir until sugar is dissolved. Put chicken in large zip-top bag and add marinade. Coat chicken completely with marinade. Marinate at least 3 hours (overnight works great).

  To cook, pour contents of the zip-top bag into a 9x13 baking dish. Cover with foil and bake at 375 degrees for 35 minutes. (Baking without foil makes for crispier, but dryer, chicken.) Remove foil, turn and baste chicken, and bake uncovered f
or an additional 15 minutes.

  Serve with blue cheese or ranch dressing.

  Serves 6 as an appetizer; 4 as a main course.

  * Double the cayenne for Jack or Shawn!

  Chapter 20

  What on earth is Thom doing here? Sadie asked herself as she studied the man on the front porch. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his suit, and he kept looking over his shoulder nervously.

  As well he should be nervous! If the police had found him, he’d still be talking to them. They never would have let him go so quickly. She was still staring through the peephole when Thom looked directly at her and leaned forward. She immediately pulled back.

  “Josh?” Thom asked.

  Sadie didn’t dare look through the peephole again, but she leaned forward so she could hear him through the door better.

  “Donna? Please let me in. I’ve got to talk to Josh.”

  Had he walked here from the hotel?

  “Look,” Thom continued a moment later, “my phone’s not working and Mark’s dead. There’s going to be trouble. I know you’re there. Please let me in.”

  Trouble? Sadie repeated in her mind. Thom and Josh were in cahoots somehow. Who was Mark? In the next instant she realized it must be Mr. Ogreski, seeing as he was the dead man of the evening.

  The doorknob started to turn and she took a step back, her heart leaping into her throat. She didn’t know if anyone had locked it after she’d come inside to use the phone. It was too late now. She scanned the room in search of somewhere to hide. There were several pieces of furniture, but none of them offered a good hiding place. Then she saw the curtains.

  She sprinted the four steps it took for her to reach the floor-length cotton drapes on the left side of the picture window at the front of the house. She pulled them back from the wall so she could step behind them, and then held her breath as the fabric—and a good amount of dust—settled over her and the lamp she still held against her side. She was sure the cord was still showing but she could only hope he wouldn’t notice. She heard the door swing open across the tiled entryway as she sneezed internally. She was going to need some Benadryl after this.

  The door clicked closed, then there was a pause, and then the sound of muted footsteps. Sadie tried to take careful breaths to avoid filling her lungs with dust as she listened carefully, trying to track his movements as best she could despite the blood rushing in her ears.

  “Josh?” Thom called, though not too loud. “Donna?”

  No one answered, of course, and he called their names a second time, sounding like he was closer to the living room this time. Sadie held perfectly still, listening to every whisper of his steps and movements. Thom cursed under his breath, sounding even further away from Sadie’s hiding place. Then everything went quiet.

  Sadie strained to hear something, anything, that would alert her to his location, but heard nothing until what sounded like a drawer slamming shut caused her to jump. The sound wasn’t close, thank goodness, just loud and unexpected. After the second drawer slammed, Sadie dared herself to pull back the curtains. It took a double-dog-dare before she crumbled under her own challenge. The living room was empty and she let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t standing there watching her emerge from her hiding place.

  What on earth am I supposed to do now? she asked herself as she stepped out from behind the curtain. Dust stuck to her velvet sweats, and she scowled while trying to brush it off, not that it made much of a difference. The whipped cream and mousse wasn’t yet dry so the most she managed to do was mix the dust in with it. Beautiful.

  Another drawer slammed, prompting Sadie to turn toward the front door she now knew was unlocked. She should leave. And yet her eyes slid toward the hallway where the sounds were coming from. Thom was looking for something. What?

  Almost against her better judgment—the justification that she was helping Pete by staying on the case was still fresh in her mind—she turned away from the front door and toward the hallway she’d exited not long ago. She moved carefully, pausing to listen to Thom’s movements between each step until she realized he was in Josh’s bedroom. The door was partially open and Sadie didn’t dare move any closer in order to look inside. However, through the gap between the hinged side of the door and the door frame, Sadie could see Thom’s hands fumbling through what looked like a bunch of boxer shorts. She grimaced at the idea of rummaging through someone’s underwear, even if it was clean underwear, and wondered what Thom was after.

  He slammed another drawer shut and headed for the bookshelf, passing the gap and causing Sadie to freeze in hopes he wouldn’t notice her watching him. She could hear the sound of books being moved on the shelf and then the sound of crumpling paper. What she really needed was a mirror that would allow her to see beyond the door frame—or a periscope! That would be perfect! Where was Shawn’s junior detective spy kit when she needed it?

  The crinkly paper sound had disappeared by the time Sadie focused her attention again, but Thom was still looking for whatever it was he was looking for. He crossed the door again, initiating another “freeze tag” response from Sadie. She moved to the left, trying to get a clearer angle and hit her head on the frame of the door. Apparently the swelling from the previous attack had thrown off her usually exact perceptions of how much space she took up in the world.

  Whether it was the thump or the soft gasp of surprised pain that Sadie couldn’t stop in time, the movements in Josh’s room stopped.

  If you are quiet enough, she told herself, and still enough, he’ll blow it off as the heater kicking on or something. At least, that was her hope. But she’d no sooner thought up the possible excuse for the sound she’d made when she heard Thom’s shoes pivot on the carpet.

  “Donna?” Thom said, his voice closer than it should have been.

  Chapter 21

  Sadie blindly stumbled backward, looking for somewhere to go.

  Thom came around the door before she managed to escape, and his eyes went wide as he stopped in the middle of the hallway and stared directly at her.

  Sadie made an attempt to stand straight. “Thom,” she said in an authoritative voice, lifting her chin and putting her hands on her hips for emphasis while her mind reeled forward in search of something intelligent to say. Unfortunately, she came up with nothing and had to settle on what she really wanted to know. “What are you looking for in there?” she asked, removing one hand from her hip in order to point at Josh’s bedroom.

  The two seconds they stood staring at each other were among the most uncomfortable two seconds of Sadie’s life.

  Thom’s expression turned from surprise to confusion. “M-Mrs. Hoffmiller?”

  “Call me Sadie,” she said automatically. He looked terrible. His nose and cheeks were red, but his face was otherwise quite pale, almost like wax. His hair hung limp and wet across his forehead. He’d obviously been outside for quite some time and, while that could explain a lot about his current appearance, Sadie couldn’t discount what Jane had said about Thom having an alcohol problem. Looking at him now it was a pretty easy assessment to make. He was not a well man. Though she’d known Thom several years ago, it had been a business relationship. She didn’t really know this Thom. Back then, Thom had never been a man someone would call confident or outgoing, but he’d had depth to him—a latent strength Sadie had a hard time seeing right now.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Well, I—” Thom looked quickly to the side and then back at Sadie. He was incredibly nervous. “I-I was looking for—um, what are you doing here?”

  Sadie ignored his question. “You’re supposed to be talking to the police.”

  “I, uh . . .” He ran a hand through his hair, and Sadie noticed that his hand shook slightly as he did so. He continued to look around, seemingly uncomfortable meeting her eyes for more than a moment at a time. “Are you with the police?” he asked, and his voice was tinged with fear.

  “Sort of,” Sadie said, secure with h
er honesty since she was doing their job for them. “Everyone is looking for you.”

  “I know,” Thom said, running the same shaky hand through his hair again. After a moment, he glanced at her with a hopeful look in his eyes that triggered the sympathy Sadie had been attempting to hold back. There was something so . . . vulnerable about him. “Do you know Josh? Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s, uh, gone,” Sadie said, surprised Thom had so quickly stopped questioning what she was doing there.

  Thom’s shoulders slumped. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  Sadie didn’t like the idea of giving Thom too much information, and yet sharing information was what developed trust—and she’d like him to trust her. “I don’t think it will be any time soon. He took his bag with him and left in a bit of a hurry.”

  “Oh,” Thom said, his shoulders slumping even more. “And Donna? Did she go with him?”

  “I have no idea where Donna is,” Sadie said truthfully. Where did pan-wielding bludgeoners go after incapacitating their prey? Sadie couldn’t begin to guess, but she was awfully glad the woman had left. Trying to come up with something to say—preferably something that would break this weird small-talky stuff they were doing at the moment—Sadie noticed the front of Thom’s jacket bulging slightly. A tiny sliver of white stuck up from the small front pocket.

  He ran his hand through his hair again, and the movement made the object in his pocket shift and crinkle—a sound very similar to the one Sadie had overheard when Thom had been in Josh’s room. Whatever paper Thom had found had been shoved in the front pocket of his suit coat. What was important enough that he’d walk two miles in the snow and then rummage through Josh’s room? Was it a reasonable expectation to think Sadie could find out?

  Maybe if she kept the frying pan close—in case Donna Hender came back—she could stay here for a couple minutes and see what she could learn.