Death A La Mode

by Tawdra Kandle

  I closed my eyes. Kill me now. “Thanks, Mrs. Mac.”

  “No problem. I’ve got to go. The girls and I are meeting to finalize the plans for our craft booth at the Festival. See you later, gator.”

  I dropped into a kitchen chair and covered my face with my hands, hoping and praying that no one from Palm Dunes had my mother’s phone number or email address. The last thing I needed was this story going viral in my New York hometown.

  “Jackie.”

  I jumped a mile when Lucas said my name. After all this time, I should’ve been more used to him popping in and out of my house, but for some reason, I never was.

  “God, you scared the hell out of me.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist, kissing his jaw. “You were gone a long time. I was starting to worry.”

  “I know. Well, it was complicated.” He stroked my hair down my back and then sat, pulling me onto his lap. “Jackie, it was Dell.”

  For a minute, I was lost. Dell? The only Dell I knew was the one we’d met last night. And then it hit me.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat.

  “Another poisoning?”

  “Not this time.” He looked grim. “Dell was killed with an ax.”

  My stomach churned. “Oh, my God. That’s horrible.”

  “It really was.”

  “Where? And how?”

  Lucas brushed his hand over my thigh. “At his house. In his backyard. There were signs of a struggle. And the how . . . well, just take my word for it. That ax blade was buried deep.”

  “Yeah, I don’t need to know any more details. I can’t imagine what it was like for you to see him.”

  “And after the Reckoning—which wasn’t much fun, either—I hung around to see what was going to happen.”

  I lifted one eyebrow. “Really? Weren’t you worried about being seen at yet another crime scene connected with this case? I understand you’ve got some kind of nifty supernatural protection, but why would you put it to the test?”

  Lucas shook his head. “It wasn’t like I had a choice. I just didn’t transport. This time, the light advocate was able to cloak me, and he stayed with me while we watched the police work.”

  “I can’t believe this.” I rested my head on Lucas’s shoulder. “Do they know who did it? The police, I mean?”

  “Not really. Murder weapon was partially missing—the ax handle was gone. They’re assuming it’s connected with the two poisonings, and one of the detectives wondered if Dell suspected who had killed Maddy and tried to kill Trina. If he confronted the person . . . maybe he panicked and killed Dell, to protect his own secret.”

  “God, that’s horrible.”

  “I know. And I kept thinking, I knew it was going to happen. What could I have done to stop it? If I’d said something to him last night, even if he thought I was nuts, maybe he would’ve been more careful.”

  “Lucas, you don’t know that. If he really did have an idea of who the murderer is, he could’ve said something to the police. He had choices. And if that’s not the case, if it was just a random killing, nothing you could’ve done would change that.”

  He sighed. “I hear you, but I can’t help feeling guilty.”

  “I know.” I stroked his stubbly cheek. He’d been summoned to the Reckoning this morning before he even had time to shave.

  “On the other hand, I think this confirms that someone’s after Crissy. Or at the very least, someone is trying to isolate her by getting rid of all the people closest to her. I heard one of the detectives suggest that her parents and friends be notified that they could be in danger.”

  My heart was heavy. She was so young to be dealing with all this loss. “Poor Crissy. She must be devastated. Dell’s been playing with her for a long time. He’s been at the last three Festivals with her.”

  “Do you think we should text her? Just to give her our condolences?”

  Lucas shook his head. “We can’t now. The story hasn’t broken, and so technically, we don’t know about Dell yet.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Damn, it sucks to have the insider info and not be able to share it. Or use it.” I sat quietly for a few beats. “Which reminds me . . . Mrs. Mac was here this morning. She said to tell you Mrs. Ackers catching us in the act gets you off the hook for not telling her more about Maddy’s murder. She was getting quite the chuckle out of us. Apparently we’re the big story of the day at Golden Rays.”

  Lucas dropped his head onto my shoulder. “Shoot me now.”

  I gave him a light punch. “Hey, what’re you worried about? No one’s going to call your family and rat you out. Do you know how many people in Palm Dunes know my parents? Too many.”

  He went pale. “Didn’t you tell me your parents were coming down here for Christmas?”

  “You know they are. We talked about taking them to the beach for a weekend if it’s nice enough.”

  “So your dad might be here, knowing that I was banging his little girl in my car in the middle of the night?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  Lucas groaned. “I’m so screwed. I need to start going door-to-door around the neighborhood, bribing every one of the old gossips not to tell anyone.”

  “Good luck, honey. If you start now, you might have a fighting chance.”

  Lucas and I spent most of the rest of that day watching the news, waiting for Dell’s murder to be reported. Lucas stretched out on the couch and napped a little; Reckonings always took a lot out of him. I called the diner to check in and reported to Mary that I’d finalized the recipe for my pie entry.

  “Oh, honey, that’s wonderful news. I can’t wait. Do you want me to come over and do a taste test?”

  I laughed. “There’s a waiting list for that job at this point, but thanks. I hope you’ll like it. I really don’t want to let Leone’s down.”

  “Jackie.” Mary’s tone lost all humor. “You don’t seriously think you could ever disappoint any of us at the diner, do you? You saved this place. If you hadn’t agreed to take it over after we lost Al, God only knows what might have become of us. I’d probably be playing shuffleboard down in Sarasota, hating every minute of it. We all want you to win the prize at the Triple P, and teach that Bitsy a lesson, but that’s not what’s important. It’s one day out of the year. You’re behind us every single day, and that’s what matters.”

  A lump rose in my throat. “That’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you, Mary. I’m really grateful for all the support all of you have given me.”

  “Al would be proud of you. He used to tell me that if only you’d trust yourself, you’d be an excellent chef. ‘One day, Mary,’ he’d say, ‘one day our Jackie’ll realize what makes her heart sing, and she’ll amaze everyone. When that happens, I’m going to make her come cook with me.’”

  Tears filled my eyes. “I never knew that. I had no idea he wanted me to cook with him.”

  “Sure, he thought the cookbook would be the first step in that direction.” She sniffed. “He sure was excited about it. Every time someone comes into the diner and buys one of those books, I think he’s smiling down on us.”

  “I think so, too. I gave a copy to Crissy Darwin the other day. Did you know she and Al were friends?”

  Mary laughed. “Jackie, if I tried to keep track of all the people who Al befriended, I wouldn’t have time to keep this place running. That’s just how he was. He had a knack for making every person he knew feel like she was the most important one in his life. It’s a gift.”

  Across the room, on the side table, Lucas’s phone began to buzz. I glanced at him, still sacked out on the couch, and stood up to get it.

  “Mary, I’m sorry, but the other phone is ringing. I’ll stop in tomorrow before we head for the Festival, okay?”

  “Sure thing, honey. I’ll see you then.”

  I disconnected that call and answered Lucas’s phone. “Hello?”

  “Jac
kie? Is that you?” The voice on the end was thick with emotion. “This is Crissy. I was just calling . . .” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’m afraid I have some really bad news.”

  As she spoke, the four o’clock news came on the television, with the lead story the murder of local musician Dell Jamison.

  “Oh, my God, Crissy.” I wanted to save her the added pain of having to say the words. “I’m seeing it on TV right now. I can’t believe . . . Dell. Are you—well, I know you’re not all right. What can we do?”

  “Could you . . . is there any way you could come over? You and Lucas? I know that sounds weird. I mean, I haven’t known you very long, but I’m just, um, alone right now. Trina’s still in the hospital, and Maddy—” Crissy’s voice broke on a sob.

  “Of course, we’ll come over right now. Where are you?”

  “I’m at my parents’ house. I’ll text you the address. Thank you so much, Jackie. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

  I shook Lucas awake. “Hey, sleepyhead. That was Crissy on the phone.”

  His eyes flew open. “What? Is she okay?” He pushed himself to sit up.

  “She wants us to come over. Why don’t you get changed and I’ll drive us? You still look exhausted.”

  “I am. I think the extra time on the scene must’ve sapped my energy.”

  Crissy’s parents lived in Seminole Falls, about fifteen minutes away. I found their home without issue and turned down a long driveway.

  “Ma’am, I need to see some ID.” A uniformed police officer stepped up to the car before we could get out. “And I’ll have to call into the house to see if the family wants to see you.”

  As Lucas and I both fumbled to pull out our driver’s licenses, the front door of the house opened and Crissy stepped out.

  “It’s okay. I called them to come over. Please just let them come in.”

  The cop gave us a brief nod and stood back as Lucas and I opened the car doors and climbed the few steps to the front porch.

  “Crissy, I’m so sorry.” Lucas gave her a brief hug.

  “Thank you for coming over. I told Jackie on the phone, I know it’s strange to feel this way when I’ve just met you, but I don’t . . . everyone else is gone.” Her whole body quivered, as though she was holding back an enormous sob.

  “I can’t even imagine.” I squeezed her arm. “And it’s not strange. When you get to know people during times of stress, sometimes things escalate. It’s not always how long you’ve been acquainted with someone that determines how deep those feelings are.”

  “Exactly.” Crissy wiped at her cheeks. “God, I can’t seem to stop crying. And we’re standing out here on the front porch. Come on in.”

  The house was not huge or ostentatious. The living room we stepped into was warm and comfortable, with furniture that had definitely seen better days, although it was still serviceable. The neighborhood itself was older and filled with typical middle-class-type houses; they were well-cared for, but not new or ostentatious by any means. It didn’t seem that Crissy’s rising star was translating into money yet.

  As we all sat down, an older version of Crissy came into the room. The tired smile she wore looked pasted on.

  “Hello. I’m Rachel Darwin, Crissy’s mom. Thank you for coming. Crissy . . . she needs all her friends right now.”

  “Being my friend right now means risking your life.” Crissy shot the words back. “Everyone who gets close to me ends up dead.”

  “That’s not true. Trina’s going to be fine. This is just . . . some horrible coincidence.”

  Crissy snorted. “Yeah, coincidence. Mom, the police agree someone’s targeting me. Maddy and Dell are dead. Dead. Trina’s in the hospital after almost dying. And all of that’s because they knew me. Because they worked with me. They don’t have anyone or anything else in common.” She slammed her hand down on the pillow in the corner of the sofa. “Don’t try to make me feel better.”

  Rachel rubbed her forehead and glanced at me. “I’m sorry. We’re all a little overwrought right now.”

  “Understandable.” I looked at Crissy. “Did the police—are there any theories yet? I mean, Dell . . . it wasn’t poison. Seems unusual for a killer to change his MO.”

  “They said what happened with Dell looked like some kind of fight. One of the detectives thinks it’s possible Dell was suspicious of someone, confronted him about it, and the killer attacked him outside his back door.” She shrugged. “Of course, the other detective believes it was just a random murder, that maybe he interrupted a robbery or something. Which is stupid, because nothing was taken but the ax handle and Dell’s cell phone, which does more to support the first theory.” She buried her face in her hands. “When I think about it . . . about him dying that way . . .”

  “Crissy, don’t.” Rachel sat on the arm of the couch and drew her daughter close. “Don’t torture yourself.” She met my eyes. “She was getting so upset, we were going to call the doctor about giving her a sedative. But she said she’d rather talk to you two, that she needed friends, not meds.”

  “I have to make sense of this whole mess somehow. Jackie, you’ve been to my shows for years. Did I ever do something or say something on stage that would make anyone want to hurt me? Who would hate me this much?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing you’ve done or said. This person, whoever it is, has got to be insane. And the police will catch him. They’re offering you protection?”

  She nodded. “The detective thinks it’s important, especially for my mom and dad. They’re the closest people to me.”

  “And you’re staying here with them?”

  “For the time being. It’s easier for us to watch out for each other. We’re not eating any food from outside our own kitchen, no take-out. They’re monitoring who comes into the house, and none of us are going out alone.”

  “It’s only until they catch this maniac. Then life will go back to normal.” Rachel kissed the top of Crissy’s head. “It’s temporary.”

  “Nothing’s ever going to be normal again. If this is the cost for my career, I don’t want it. I can’t stand the idea that my singing made this happen.”

  “Oh, honey.” Her mother shot me a pleading look. “Crissy’s saying she thinks she needs to pull out of the pecan festival. The police said it was fine for her to perform, and her father and I think she needs to do it.”

  “Don’t you think it would be insensitive to Dell’s memory to be back on stage two days after he’s brutally murdered? God, I can’t even think of it. I haven’t performed without him in over three years. I’m not sure I can.”

  “We can find someone to play for you.” She smiled a little. “Or you could do it. Remember when you first started, you always played for yourself.”

  Crissy shook her head, but I noticed that her shoulders relaxed a little. “I’m not very good, Mom.”

  “But I bet no one else knows your songs the way you do.” Lucas leaned forward. “Although, if you want the support . . . I play guitar.”

  I turned to him, my mouth dropping open. “You do? Since when?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted a little. “Since always. Well, since I was about ten years old. I was even in a band for a while in college.”

  Crissy clasped her hands together. “Would you seriously consider it? I know it’s last minute, but my music isn’t that hard to learn. I think I could go up on stage if someone I knew was with me. I wouldn’t feel so alone, you know?”

  That’s how it happened that when we walked out the door of the Darwin home an hour later, Lucas had a gig at the Triple P Festival.

  “How did I not know this about you?” I tossed him the keys over the hood of the car. “You’re awake now. You drive home.”

  He caught them and opened the driver’s side door. “I guess it just never came up. We’ve been a little busy in the last year, haven’t we? I’m sure you have tons of stuff about yourself that I don’t know.” He winked at me as I climbed into the car. “That�
�s why I plan to spend a lot of time with your folks and with Leesa when they come down for the holidays. I need to get the whole scoop on all things Jackie.”

  “Thanks. That’ll be fun.” I slid him a side-eyed glance. “Maybe you can fit all that in after you explain to my dad about Mrs. Ackers catching us in the act in your car.”

  Lucas groaned. “Okay, okay, point taken. I promise, no digging.”

  “So back to your hidden guitar talents. You’re actually pretty good.”

  He smirked. “Thanks for that ringing endorsement.”

  “No, I mean, for someone who hasn’t played as long as I’ve known him. Why haven’t you? When did you stop?”

  He lifted one shoulder and backed the car out of the driveway. “About the time I moved to Florida. Matter of fact, the last night I played was at the bar where we had my farewell party. I jammed with a few of my friends right before I met Veronica.”

  I bit my lip. As far as we knew, Veronica was the name of the vampire who was responsible for Lucas for being one, too. He only vaguely remembered her, since he’d been totally drunk the night he met her, but she’d left him a cryptic note, one that Cathryn and several other experts at Carruthers had examined closely. We weren’t much closer to determining why he’d been changed, even though Veronica had claimed she’d intervened for a reason. Since his death broker abilities had appeared at the same time, Cathryn felt the two had to be connected.

  “Will you play for me some time? I mean, I know I’ll hear you tomorrow night with Crissy, but having a man play just for me is kind of a fantasy of mine.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? How did I not know this? Baby, I’ll play for you tonight. I’ll play for you every damn night.”

  I laughed softly. “I’m living out fantasies left and right this week. First the car, now the guitar . . . I’m going to have to start coming up with some new ones.”

  “Jackie, babe, I’m here for you. More than willing to help you with that kind of research.”

  “You’re too good to me.” I was quiet for a few minutes as we drove through the night. “Lucas, are you sure it’s a good idea for you to be up there on stage with Crissy? Will it be safe?”