Kelly forged forward, bracing for another encounter, all the while remembering how Yvonne had gotten her back up when Kelly had asked about the last time she saw Diana. Now Kelly would ask her why she lied.
Kelly pressed the doorbell and waited and shivered.
The door opened, and a uniformed housekeeper appeared.
Yeah, this was a lifestyle Kelly had no clue about.
“Hello, I’m Kelly Quinn, and I’d like to speak with Yvonne.”
The housekeeper eyed Kelly from head to toe as if she were selling vacuums door-to-door or worse. “Is she expecting you?”
“No, she isn’t. But it’s very important that I speak with her.” The last time she’d been rudely treated by household staff was the morning she’d found Diana’s body. Nanette had shut the door on her twice and refused her access to the warmth of the house while she waited for the police to interview her. The staff of the reality show divas was as difficult as they were. Maybe they should get their own show.
“I’ll see if she’s available.” The door closed on Kelly.
Here we go again.
Only, this time, Kelly wouldn’t go looking around the property. Finding one dead diva was enough for her. However, since she wasn’t in Lucky Cove, she would be out of Wolman’s jurisdiction.
The door opened again, and the housekeeper gestured her inside. She led Kelly through the hall into an enormous room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an expanse of snow-covered land. She wondered how many acres came with the house.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Miss Quinn.” Yvonne breezed into the room carrying a Louis Vuitton agenda. She wore a simple, knee-length black dress with a bright pink cardigan tied over her shoulders, giving a rosy glow to her face and complementing her gray hair. “This is what I use to track all of my appointments. When someone wishes to meet with me, they telephone or e-mail, and then I either accept or decline. When I accept, the date goes in here.” She patted the closed agenda. “You are not in here.”
This won’t go well.
“I apologize for dropping by unannounced. You have a beautiful home.” Kelly looked around the room. The tallest Christmas tree she’d ever seen indoors stood decorated beside the impressive fireplace, its polished dark wood mantel about the same height as Kelly.
“Thank you. I’m very proud of it. My husband and I purchased it right after we married.”
Yvonne walked past Kelly, set the agenda on an end table, and then sat on the sofa.
“Not exactly the starter home most newlyweds begin with.” Kelly clasped her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud. “I’m sorry.”
Yvonne looked amused and gestured for Kelly to have a seat on the opposing sofa. Kelly opened her coat, set her tote on the hardwood floor, and perched on the edge of the cushion. Her hand glided over the floral fabric.
Nubby silk. Very nice. Very expensive.
“I can see why Hugh wants to add you to the show. You’d be a breath of fresh air.” Yvonne leaned back and crossed her legs, giving Kelly a glimpse of her red-soled nude pumps. Christian Louboutin. Kelly’s heart did a little pitter-patter that kept her from responding to the comment about Hugh. “You’re right. This isn’t your typical first home. I had no idea my husband had bought this house for us. He surprised me by taking a drive; we ended up here, and he gave me the keys.”
“How romantic. He made a wonderful choice with this house. It even has a roof deck.”
Yvonne laughed. “It’s not a roof deck; it’s a widow’s walk.” She must have noticed the confused look on Kelly’s face. “Also known as a widow’s watch. They were common in the nineteenth century. Wives of sea captains watched out from the deck for their husband’s ships to arrive back in port.”
“Okay. Now I know what you’re talking about.” Kelly’s thoughts drifted to a time when there were no telephones, no telegraph, or any other modern communication technology. Wives waited for their husbands to return for weeks, even months, after leaving for a journey. She imagined how much their hearts swelled when they first caught a glimpse of their husbands’ ships.
“A wealthy merchant built this home when he moved his family from Massachusetts to New York. His eldest daughter had moved back home after her husband, a sea captain, died at sea. She had spent every day on the widow’s walk of her home in Massachusetts and wouldn’t move unless the new home had a widow’s walk. She stood vigilant every day, looking for her husband, even during bad weather. It was right after a nor’easter that she came down with influenza and died.”
Kelly hadn’t considered the impact on a wife of never seeing her husband’s ship return to port. The woman must have been unstable to wait every day on the widow’s walk, especially when she was in another state.
“Alas, I don’t think you came here for a history lesson on my home.” Yvonne was perceptive.
“No, I didn’t. I came to ask you a question. I’ve thought of how to ask this question without it sounding rude and accusatory, but I don’t think it’s possible. I’m just going to ask. What were you doing at Diana’s house the night of my uncle’s party? The night she died.”
Yvonne opened her brightly colored lips, a deep pink with a warm hue, to say something.
Kelly guessed she was about to deny the accusation. “Someone saw your Rolls-Royce speeding down the road.”
Yvonne’s lips formed an O, and then she pressed her lips together. “Fine. I was there. I didn’t see how it was any of your business.”
“Understandable. But Wendy asked me to help her. And, earlier today, someone left a threatening note for me, so now it is my business.”
Yvonne gasped. “I had no idea. Have you notified the police?”
“Yes. I also told them what the witness told me. You should expect another unannounced visit.”
Yvonne pressed her hands on the skirt of her dress. “I didn’t kill Diana. I went to see her because of the blowout she had with Wendy at the party. I tried to talk sense into her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Diana wanted to get back onto the show in the worst way. I reminded her that acting out as she had at the party wasn’t the way to do that. Like it or not, she needed to have Wendy on her side. Or, at least, not have her as an enemy.”
“I take it your advice didn’t go over well?”
“Hardly. Diana didn’t want to hear anything I said. She was too worked up. She needed to calm down. I . . . I reached out to her, but she shoved me. I nearly sprained my ankle on the front step. I’d had enough. If she wanted to continue on her downward spiral, then so be it. I left. She was very much alive and angry when I did.”
“The front step? When you left, she was at the front door?”
Yvonne nodded. “She wouldn’t let me inside. I was freezing.”
Then how did Diana end up outside? Did the killer lure her out under false pretenses? Or did Diana leave her house on her own, only to be surprised by the killer? But she wasn’t wearing a coat when Kelly found her.
“If she was alive when you left, did you see anyone else around? Maybe someone passed you as you were driving away?”
Yvonne stared daggers at Kelly. “I don’t appreciate being called a liar, young lady. I’ve been more than courteous to you, answering your prying questions and encouraging your Nancy Drew escapades, but I’m about done. It’s time for you to go.”
Kelly scrambled to her feet and grabbed her tote bag. This wasn’t how she wanted to end her visit with Yvonne, but given the circumstances of the visit, it had turned out better than she’d expected. She was about to say something, but Yvonne gave her a warning look. Heeding the warning, she slung her tote over her shoulder and walked out of the great room. The housekeeper approached her and swiftly showed her to the door.
Yvonne’s housekeeper was too classy to slam the door shut, but the sentiment wa
s there as the door closed behind her. Darkness had settled completely over the island, and the temperature had dipped lower. She hurried to her Jeep and drove out of the driveway, heading home. Before she left the boutique to go to the police department, she’d checked her e-mail inbox and found the gingersnap cookie recipe from Frankie. Maybe she’d stop at the grocery store to buy the ingredients and then pick up something for dinner. It actually sounded like a good way to spend the evening. After all, she couldn’t get into any trouble baking.
Chapter Seventeen
As she took the exit for Lucky Cove, she considered attempting to learn how to cook. If she was going to tackle baking cookies, she should be able to whip up dinner instead of buying it in a to-go container. Traffic wasn’t as bad as she expected, and she got home with enough time to heat up her dinner of lasagna from the deli counter and lay out all the ingredients for the cookies. Rummaging through the kitchen drawers and cabinets, she found measuring spoons and cups. So far, so good.
She needed a cookie sheet.
Shoot.
She wasn’t sure if there was one in the apartment. She couldn’t remember seeing any when she moved in. Then again, she hadn’t been looking for baking equipment. Her priority was to get the musty odor out of the one-bedroom apartment because it had been closed up for a few years. When her granny began having difficulty climbing the stairs, she rented a cottage a few blocks from the boutique.
Next was developing a relationship with Howard. The orange furball wasn’t open to a new relationship, and he’d made that clear with a few swipes at her when she attempted to pet him. But, like most guys, he learned she was the one who controlled the food in the house, and it was in his best interest to be nice to her. She was also was trying to salvage what was left of her granny’s business. ’Nuff said on that point.
A search of an upper cabinet yielded her granny’s trusty cookie sheet.
With the ingredients ready to go and the mixing bowls set out, she opened the recipe on her phone.
“I’m already to get my bake on.” She reached for the five-pound bag of flour and opened it. A puff of flour mist escaped the bag, and she pulled back. A meow drew her attention away from the flour mess on the counter.
Howard sat with his head tilted sideways. His normally cool, indifferent gaze was replaced with a look of doubt.
“I can do this. It’s not rocket science.”
Howard continued to stare at his human.
“What could go wrong?” she asked with a shrug. She cracked an egg into a stainless-steel bowl. From that point, she continued following the directions with a newfound air of confidence. Frankie had made too much of a big deal about baking. It was easy-peasy. Before she knew it, she had six mounds of cookie dough sprinkled with sugar and ready to go into the oven. With the timer set, she went to check her e-mails.
She opened her inbox, found over twenty new e-mails, and began sorting through them. She was in deep concentration when she smelled something, and it wasn’t the fragrant scent of gingersnap cookies.
Her nose crinkled at a hint of smoke, her heart slammed against her chest, and her mind raced with the worst-case scenario as she ran to the kitchen. Gagging on the smoke, she grabbed a pot holder and removed the cookie sheet from the oven. She dropped the flat pan with a clank onto the cooling rack and turned off the oven.
She stared at the burned cookies. What a mess. But she didn’t have time to worry about the ultra-crispy cookies because the smoke detector had gone off, and the incessant, loud beeping had her covering her ears with her hands. She tried to get the thing to stop beeping after opening the windows.
It was no use.
The apartment turned into a freezer while the darn detector continued to beep.
She did the only thing she could think of and sent an SOS text to Gabe. Within minutes he arrived at her apartment.
“Make it stop,” she screeched when she opened the door and pointed to the smoke detector on the ceiling.
He didn’t hesitate. He climbed the chair she’d put under the detector and silenced the alarm.
“How did you do that?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and walked to the thermostat. She cranked up the heat to get the deep chill out of the apartment while Gabe climbed off the chair.
“What made you want to bake suddenly?” Gabe replaced the chair at the table.
“It’s not suddenly.” She brushed by him, strode into the kitchen, and sighed at the sight of the burned cookies and the bowl of the remaining cookie dough.
“Did you leave them in too long?” Gabe had come up behind her.
“No, I didn’t.” She stepped farther into the kitchen and tossed the burned cookies into the trash. “I had the timer set. The oven was preheated, like the recipe said to do.”
Gabe moved over to the old stove and studied the knobs. “You know. This could be broken. Your grandmother hadn’t lived here for a few years. It’s kind of old.” He turned back to Kelly.
“I wasn’t sure, but now I am. The new stove and fridge will be coming soon.” She filled the dishpan with soapy water and then turned out the cookie dough onto a paper towel. “I won’t be doing any baking tonight.”
“Why the urge to bake? What’s going on, Kell?” He’d come up and stood behind her. He was a force she couldn’t ignore, nor did she want to.
She set the mixing bowl in the soapy water and wiped her hands. She turned to face Gabe. “I was thinking about Granny. How much she loved Christmas, and I thought baking her cookies would be a way to be close to her. Silly, huh?”
“Not silly at all.” Gabe pulled Kelly into a hug. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried. She’d yet again made a mess of things. “Maybe you should leave the baking to Frankie and my mom . . . for now.”
Kelly laughed. Gabe always had a way of making her laugh. He’d been a goofball throughout school, which got him called into the principal’s office one too many times, but he’d also been her protector when things got ugly after Ariel’s accident. He’d not only stood up for her; he’d also gotten into a fistfight with another kid while defending her. Gabe always had her back, and he was still coming to the rescue.
She pulled away and grabbed a napkin to dry her face. “Thanks for coming over and stopping that horrible beeping noise. How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s feeling better. I think she’s realizing she has to slow down a little. Between work and volunteering, she’s wearing herself down.”
“I should cut back on her hours. I’ve been relying on her too much.” She tossed the napkin into the trash can.
“Well, I think it would be a good idea, though I doubt she’d agree.” Gabe leaned against the counter. “I’m sensing something else other than reminiscing is going on in there.” He pointed to Kelly’s head.
“It’s scary how well you know me. Want tea?”
At Gabe’s nod, she filled the kettle and set it on the stove. She filled him in on what had happened at the cemetery, her chat with Wolman, and her visit to Yvonne’s house. To his credit, Gabe didn’t interrupt her or lecture her. He also didn’t have any insights, or if he did, he wasn’t sharing, on why Diana was found outside without her coat.
“What’s going on with you and Mark Lambert?” Gabe drained the last of his tea and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You two had dinner the other night?”
“Wow. Small-town gossip at its best.” Kelly took a long drink of her tea to delay answering his question.
He cleared his throat, prompting her to set her mug down.
“It was dinnertime, and we were both hungry. Nothing more to it. Well, then Detective Wolman showed up. I can’t believe they’re related.”
“Why?”
“He’s nice, and she’s not.”
“Wolman isn’t that bad. She’s a police detective, so she’s not looking to be everyone’s friend.”
“She doesn’t like me. And she doesn’t want me dating her brother.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel like I’m being interrogated.” She shifted on her chair. “Wolman told me. She was very clear. I’m to stay away from her investigation and her brother.”
“Which you’re not doing.”
Kelly shrugged.
Gabe chuckled. “Nothing’s ever boring with you, Kell.” He stood. “Be careful, and lock up.”
Kelly promised and closed the door behind him. She turned the lock and leaned against the door. Why hadn’t Gabe lectured her? He’d had the perfect opportunity. Did he think she was good at sleuthing? After the last murder investigation she’d helped with, maybe he saw her potential as a detective.
A loud meow jolted her out of her thoughts.
“What? I did pretty well last time.”
Another meow challenged her statement.
“Or maybe he knows lecturing me won’t do any good.”
Howard slinked by her legs, with his tail whipping in the air, and disappeared into the bedroom. She knew where he stood on the question about Gabe. She pushed herself off the door. Her cat was also right about going to bed. It’d been a long day, and tomorrow she was on her own in the boutique. Both Breena and Pepper had the day off. She needed to be well-rested and clearheaded.
After a double check of the door lock and windows—though she doubted a second-story man would come through any of the drafty old windows during the night—she followed her cat into the bedroom.
As she flicked off the light switches on her way, she prayed she’d be able to sleep with no bad dreams. Though the likelihood of her sleep being peaceful with someone leaving threatening notes and a killer on the loose was slim.
Chapter Eighteen
After Kelly opened the boutique, Breena showed up for her shift. The day before had been steady with customers. Juggling assisting her customers and answering questions about the Holiday Edit event kept Kelly busy. By the time she closed the boutique, she was wiped out.
Silenced in Sequins Page 17
