Murder Al Fresco

by Jennifer L. Hart

  "I hope so." Picking up my purse, I was surprised to see Jacob still standing in the doorway.

  "Andy, about what happened to Clayton," he began, but I held up a hand.

  "I get it. There was nothing you could do to keep them from taking him. Good news though, I'm getting him back tonight." I checked the time on my phone. "Shoot, I gotta go."

  "Meet me at the pasta shop tomorrow before the first round. I want your input on some of the changes there."

  "Will do." I smiled and waved.

  Kaylee met me by Mustang Sally. "I'm so glad Mimi is going to be all right."

  "Me too," I breathed as we wound our way out onto the highway.

  She shifted in her seat. "So can I come over and see Clayton tonight?"

  "I promised your mom I'd have you home by five, remember?" With all that was going on, it was a miracle that Kaylee's adopted mother actually still let her hang around with me.

  She picked at the fringe of her cutoffs. "Tomorrow then? I can ask Mom if she'll drop me off at the A-frame."

  "I'm going to be crazy busy for the competition tomorrow, and Jacob wants to meet up early." I made the turn onto Forest Lane, where Kaylee and her mom rented a small Cape Cod.

  She was silent as I pulled into the driveway but didn't get out of the car with a wave as she typically did. "Are you mad at me?"

  When she looked at me with those big blue eyes I felt my heart crack a little. "Of course not, sweets."

  Seeing her advantage, she pressed, "Then why don't you want me around?"

  "I do." If I wasn't honest with her, she would either despise me or find a way to go around me. "Listen, Kaylee, I do want you around. But the thing is, I think that whoever is behind the poisonings is targeting people close to me, and we don't know why. I don't want you to get hurt."

  She studied me for a minute. Though I half expected a tantrum, Kaylee surprised me with a hug. "What happened to Mimi wasn't your fault."

  I hadn't realized how much I wanted to hear that. "Look, I wasn't lying when I said tomorrow is going to be nuts. I hope you come and watch, but for the love of Pete, don't eat anything!"

  She giggled but then nodded. "I know not to take candy from strangers."

  "Good." I nodded. "I'll text you pictures of Clay. Just don't go plastering them all over the internet, capiche?"

  "I hear you." She gave me a quick hug and then hopped out. "Oh, just so you know, Pops and Aunt Cecily saw the announcement."

  My mouth fell open. "They were there? I didn't see them."

  "I think that was kinda the point. But yeah, they were there."

  "Did Pops look angry?" Who was the adult here?

  Kaylee ignored the quaver in my voice. "No, he looked sad."

  I grimaced. "That's even worse. I better get going. Do me a favor and call the A-frame, let them know that Mimi's all right, and I'll be there soon."

  "Do you think Lizzy and Dad are still there?"

  "If they are then our evil plan was a success."

  Kaylee laughed. "You're such a dork. Night."

  * * *

  Aunt Cecily was at the stove again when I drove up, but Pops was nowhere in sight.

  "I heard you were in town today," I said.

  Aunt Cecily didn't reply.

  "Mimi's going to be all right," I said, even though I'd asked Kaylee to deliver that tidbit.

  Still not a word.

  I blew out an exasperated breath. "Okay, well, Clayton will be here soon, and it would be really nice if you didn't give me the silent treatment while the social worker is here."

  "I no give you this silent treatment," Aunt Cecily said. "I am cooking."

  "True that," I grumbled. "Where's Pops?"

  "Outside. Him I give the silent treatment to."

  That took me aback. "You're mad at Pops? Why?"

  "Because he is Spirito Di Patata."

  "Acting as if he's drunk?"

  "Esattamente." She nodded in confirmation.

  "Is this about his diet?" I asked, a little worried. "He can't help that. The changes are for his arthritis."

  She actually turned from the stove to scowl at me. "Do you think so little of me, ragazzina? No, he lies and then dishonors our family. You get to know your father. Eugene must accept this."

  This was too much. I needed to sit down. "But what you said. About how Nana would be so disappointed."

  She nodded. "Sì. Because he acts the fool. What, did you think I meant that for you?"

  "Um, yeah." I blushed.

  "Not everything is about you, Andy." Aunt Cecily patted my shoulder.

  "I'm starting to realize that." I gave her a quick hug.

  "You are a good girl." Aunt Cecily drained the pasta and then tossed in the pesto she'd made. I smiled. She really was trying to avoid the nightshade foods for Pops' sake. Though crusty, and on occasions scary, my aunt had a generous spirit. It was no wonder Pops had fallen for her.

  She put the dish on the table and gestured to me. "Sit. Mangiamo."

  I held up a finger. "Do you want me to get Pops?"

  She nodded. Wiping her hands on her apron, she disappeared into the restroom.

  Okay, well, I had half of the family nut cracked. If Aunt Cecily could see that it was my choice to have anything to do with my bio dad, surely Pops would come around.

  I snorted as I slid open the door to the patio. Who was I kidding? Pops could out-stubborn a mountain if he set his mind to it. He was just as unbending.

  Because the house was a furnished rental, there was a nice rattan patio set out back, though Pops had ignored the newer furnishings in favor of the hand-carved split log bench looking over the fire pit. There was no fire in it now, so seeing him staring into the ash as if he were lost in the memory of dancing flames was unsettling. Roofus was flopped at his feet, snoring softly.

  "Pops?" I stepped up to his side and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Dinner's ready. And Clayton will be here soon. Hope you're ready to have a rambunctious eighteen-month-old underfoot."

  He didn't jump, so he had been aware of my approach. He didn't move though—not so much as a whisker turned in my direction.

  Not waiting for an invitation, I sat on the bench next to him. "You know, Jacob can beg for forgiveness all he likes," I murmured. "Doesn't change the fact that he wasn't here for me. I know you were the one who threatened to pull a shotgun on Kyle when I turned up pregnant at sixteen. You were the one who raised me."

  He lowered his head. "I still say he's no good."

  "He's helping me renovate the Bowtie Angel on his own dime." Flip of aforementioned dime whether saying that would help or hinder my case. Pops could fly into a rage at the thought of Jacob setting foot in the Bowtie Angel.

  "Guilt money," Pops scoffed.

  "Maybe. I'm going to pay him back." Eventually. "He's knowledgeable about business, and I can use that knowledge to help the business. That doesn't make everything okay between us."

  "I saw your face today," Pops murmured then turned to look at me for the first time. "I could tell you wanted him to say something that would make you forgive him."

  I felt a little hollow inside, like my heart was bouncing around in a void of nothingness. I could lie to myself that everything I'd done was to unmask the blogger or to find out who had it in for me, but the truth stared me in the face. After a moment, I took a deep breath. "Maybe I did. Hating him is exhausting, Pops, and he is trying. I know that doesn't make up for anything, but it's easier for me to accept him as part of my life than to fight it. It's not good for Kaylee or for Clayton to see me shutting him down. I mean, I'm a role model now. I can't act like a petulant child in front of them. That doesn't mean you have to forgive him or that I have either, just that I'm being a grown-up, the way you taught me."

  Pops narrowed his eyes at me. "When did you get so dag-burned smart?"

  I shrugged. "I learned from the best."

  The door behind us opened, and Aunt Cecily glowered at the two of us. "Why is there talking while my good
food grows cold?"

  "We're coming." I rose and then held out a hand to my grandfather. "Forgive me?"

  "You got that backwards, Andy girl." He took my hand and smiled. "You're the one who has to forgive me."

  Once he was on his feet, I threw my arms around his neck the way I had as a little girl. "You got it. Now let's go in before Aunt Cecily puts The Eye on us."

  "You kid, but she's none too happy with me." Pops sighed. "Serves me right, thinking I was the one in charge."

  I laughed and then clapped as the doorbell rang. "Oh good, that should be the social worker with Clayton."

  Rushing to the door, I flung it open, but the smile slipped off my face when I saw who stood there. "Malcolm?"

  He wrapped me up in his arms, squeezing tightly. "It's all over."

  I hugged him back for a long minute, stunned and relieved.

  "Close the door," Aunt Cecily snapped. "You let the flies in."

  I tugged Jones inside. "You got it straightened out?"

  "Kyle did." Jones nodded. "I would have been here sooner, but he said you stranded him."

  My teeth sank into my lower lip. "It was for a good cause, I promise. So the kidnapping charges?"

  "Dropped. The grandparents have officially relinquished custody of Clayton, and Lizzy had a judge sign off on it a little while ago. Rousted him right off the golf course, from what she told me. For better or worse, Andrea, he's mine."

  "You mean ours, right?"' I searched his face, hoping he hadn't done something stupid, like changed his mind about marrying me while he waited in jail.

  His penetrating blue gaze seemed to be drinking in my features. "If you'll still have us."

  "Of course I will, silly man." I let out a sigh just as Aunt Cecily shuffled forward.

  "You're late," she glowered at Jones.

  "Apologies." He bent down and gave her a hug.

  She hugged him back and patted his cheek. "Come, sit, eat."

  "Leave the poor man a minute, Cecily. He just got released from the pokey." Pops grunted but gave Jones a smile.

  "Food grows cold while young people dawdle."

  "Ah, the sounds of home. Didn't you miss this?"

  "You have no idea." Jones pulled out a chair for me then sat beside me.

  After the prayer, when the dishes were being passed around, I decided he needed to be brought up to speed on a few pertinent details. "You will not believe what I've been through since we left here last night."

  He set down his fork and squeezed my hand. "I heard about Mimi. Is she all right?"

  "She will be. The doctor said it was a reaction to synthetic marijuana. He told me I needed to get her drug tested on a regular basis in case she had a problem."

  "Mimi?" Both of Pops' spidery eyebrows went up.

  "I think she was poisoned, Pops. Although, the smoke from the drug has to be inhaled, so I'm not sure that's even possible."

  "It is if someone had access to the ventilation system at the pasta shop." Jones reached for the Parmesan cheese. "The studio above is tiny, and it wouldn't take too much smoke to fill the space. And if they burned it while she was sleeping, she wouldn't have even known."

  Across the table I saw Pops and Aunt Cecily exchange glances. That apartment had been Aunt Cecily's home for decades, and the thought of someone tampering with it to harm Mimi unsettled us all.

  "Who?" I whispered. "Who would want to discredit me so badly that they would hurt Mimi this way?"

  Jones just shook his head. He didn't have any answers either.

  The meal progressed, but I was lost in my own thoughts.

  "Andrea." Jones spoke softly so he wouldn't draw Pops and Aunt Cecily's attention from their conversation. "We can try again."

  "You think it's the blogger?" I asked him.

  "Do you really believe it's a coincidence that Mimi collapses just when she's about to help reveal his identity? Did you see the latest post?"

  I shook my head. "I've been too busy to check."

  He pulled his smartphone from his back pocket and tapped a few buttons. I don't know how the thing managed to function after he had sat on it. If I tried that, I'd be going through cells like I went through cellentani.

  Jones turned the screen in my direction, and I sucked in a gasp at the headline. Death Chef's Daddy Issues.

  "What?" Aunt Cecily asked, but I was too busy reading.

  Andy Buckland's desperate attempt to take attention off her poisonous pasta shop took a new turn today when it was announced that business mogul Jacob Griffin is her long lost father. Griffin's desperate attempts to beg for forgiveness are just as laughable as Buckland's claim to culinary greatness. If I were one of the Diced Showdown judges, I'd think twice about sampling any dish served by the Death Chef. In possibly related news, Buckland's sous chef was taken to the hospital immediately following the announcement. Sounds like this small-town pasta shop has bitten off more than it can chew.

  "Ugh," I said, barely resisting the urge to slam the smartphone down on the table. "I wanna get this blogger. I wouldn't put it past Fangirl#1 to be doing all this to make me look bad. It's almost as if…"

  "As if what?" Jones asked, dark brows drawing down.

  My eyes went wide. "As if she knows I'm out to get her."

  Jones gripped my hand. "Maybe she knows you're the one who is supposed to unmask her, so she's trying to publicly discredit you."

  "But the poisonings?" I asked. "Kyle told me today that the medical examiner's office ruled Chad's death an accident, but what if it wasn't? What if he was doing the same thing Stu asked me to do, trying to find out who Fangirl#1 is? Or even if that wasn't the case, what if the blogger was creating stories by harassing Chad Tobey and his family?"

  Jones nodded. "It stands to reason that someone who writes about food is knowledgeable about food. So perhaps whoever she is, she knows how to make food poisoning look like an accident."

  My eyes went wide. "And how to use it to kill and protect her secrets."

  Sexy Seven Layer Salad

  You'll need:

  1 head iceberg lettuce

  2 English cucumbers, diced

  4 carrots

  10 ounces of frozen peas, thawed

  1 pound prosciutto,

  6 hard-boiled eggs, diced

  10 ounces colby-jack cheese, shredded

  1 cup mayonnaise

  2 tablespoons sugar

  1 teaspoon red wine vinegar

  Directions:

  Cook prosciutto and set on paper towel to drain and cool. Wash and chop iceberg and add to a large clear bowl. Add diced cucumber. Use a mandolin to shred carrots onto next layer then top with thawed peas, eggs, prosciutto, and cheese.

  In a separate bowl, combine mayonnaise, sugar, and vinegar. Smooth over cheese layer with the back of a spoon. Refrigerate several hours, and serve chilled.

  **Andy's note: The salad is a killer picnic recipe. Make it the night before and bring to impress your guests with your culinary prowess!

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Clayton arrived shortly after dinner, and Jones and I were too wrapped up in him to discuss the case further. For his part, the littlest Jones boy seemed to have no ill effects from his stay with the foster care family where he'd been placed. We all slept soundly, in spite of the dinner conversation. I woke early though, thoughts of winning the Diced Showdown and publically unmasking Fangirl#1 making me eager to seize the day.

  Leaving Jones and Clayton to sleep in, I snuck out to Mustang Sally and drove into town. Jacob's sleek BMW was already parked out front. The man was an early bird, that was for sure, but what surprised me was that Lacey was with him.

  "Good morning." I greeted them as I entered the kitchen. Most of the remodeling focused on the front room, and though the construction crew wasn't in yet, the place was nothing but sawdust and plywood.

  "Andee" Lacey blinked. "You surprised us. What are you doing here so early?"

  "Big day today and I thought I'd get a jump on it." I rubbed my hands
together and grinned at her, clearly taking her aback. I turned toward the coffee pot, relieved to see it was filled. "So what have you got for me, Jacob?"

  "Well, I wanted to get your take on the dining area. I was thinking we could extend the Old World motif we've done in the patio area to inside. Maybe a Venetian plaster wall treatment in a neutral color and then some deeper jewel tones for the fabrics and darker wood colors."

  "Sounds great," I said, once again clearly picturing what he was talking about.

  "Lacey offered to purchase some oil paintings for you," he continued. "I thought something eye-catching adjacent to the picture window."

  "I can do that," I said hurriedly. Lacey's taste was tacky at the best of times, and I really didn't want to imagine what she would think was suitable for my front room.

  "It's no trouble," Lacey insisted. "I want to help with ze remodel."

  "Thanks, but I'd really rather do it myself. Give it the personal touch, you know."

  We stared at each other for a beat. I really didn't want to fall back into old patterns with her, sniping and snarking at one another, but it was my space.

  "Honey." Jacob rode to the rescue, putting a hand on the small of Lacey's back. "Why don't you treat yourself to a spa day? You work so hard."

  It took all my willpower not to snort. Work hard? Lacey? The man was delusional. But I kept my trap shut and let him handle her.

  If Lacey was disappointed that she'd basically been told to go sit in the corner while the adults were talking, she didn't show it. "Very well. I wanted to have a manicure before ze show anyhow." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the side of Jacob's face, leaving a pink lip print on his cheek.

  "Enjoy!" My wave was more of a salute, and I turned to Jacob the second the door shut behind her. "Thanks for that."

  "I wish you girls got along better," Jacob mumbled.

  "Given our history, it's amazing that we're not rolling around on the floor, trying to tear each other's hair out. Call this one a win, and let it go." I didn't mention that up until a few days ago I wasn't even speaking to him, and Lacey was a stretch I couldn't see happening. Plus, I was too busy swallowing bile from him lumping his daughter and his wife together as "you girls." That was wrong on every level.