A Flair for Truffles (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 4)

by Deborah Garner

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sadie bit into a mocha-caramel truffle and watched Matteo set the boxes of chocolates down behind the counter.

  “Well, that’s a first,” Matteo said. “And hopefully a last. What a horrible reason for someone not to receive chocolates they’d been sent. I’ve had deliveries get crushed, get lost, get stolen, even melt before they reached their destination, but never returned because the intended recipient wasn’t alive to receive them. It’s terrible.”

  “Yes, it is,” Sadie agreed. “And one of the neighbors seemed quite convinced it wasn’t from natural causes.”

  “Murder?” Matteo’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He offered Sadie another truffle, which she readily accepted.

  “That’s what Gladys Kravitz thinks.” Sadie popped the chocolate into her mouth as she contemplated the odd behavior of Sue Bennett’s neighbor.

  “Who?” Matteo asked.

  “A character from a television show back in the ’60s,” Sadie said. “You’re too young to remember it.” In truth, Sadie wasn’t quite sure how old Matteo was, but he was definitely not out of his thirties yet. He was from the Cheers and MacGyver generation.

  “Ah, a busybody,” Matteo said as he slid a tray of maple-nut fudge into the display case. “I wouldn’t take her word for it. The woman probably died of natural causes.”

  “Maybe,” Sadie admitted. “But Gla—I mean—Mags was talking about different men coming and going, including one she referred to as ‘skinny and slinky.’”

  “Not very complimentary,” Matteo noted.

  “No, not at all,” Sadie said. “Does he match the description of any of the three who ordered chocolates for her?”

  Matteo shrugged. “I have no idea. They were all phone orders.”

  “Did any of them have a skinny, slinky voice?” Sadie laughed as soon as the words left her mouth, knowing the question was ridiculous. Voices over the phone might conjure up an image, but it was purely imagined until seeing the person. She’d spoken with many customers who called in to inquire about availability of an item, only to find they looked entirely different from her imagined perception when they showed up to shop.

  “One did sound a little weird, now that I think about it,” Matteo said. “But that’s hardly a reason to suspect he’s a killer. If there is a killer at all. You don’t know that.”

  “True,” Sadie admitted.

  “Maybe your inner amateur detective is showing a little. You sure you want to get involved with this?”

  “Well, I was at the scene,” Sadie offered as an excuse. “Besides, we’re in possession of information that could be of use to the police.”

  Matteo looked at Sadie. “How so?”

  “You have three leads,” Sadie pointed out. “Three people who sent Sue Bennett chocolate. You should turn that information over to the police.”

  “And bother innocent people who probably have nothing to do with this?” Matteo shook his head. “No, it is bad enough I’m going to have to tell them their orders couldn’t be delivered. Speaking of which, I’d better call them and run their refunds.”

  The door chimed, and a mother and young girl entered. The child, who looked to be around six years of age, skipped directly to the display case and pressed her face against the glass, hands splayed to each side.

  Sadie returned to Flair so Matteo could deal with customers and make the necessary calls. She placed Coco on the Yorkie’s store pillow and filled Amber in on the details she knew, few as they were.

  “Maybe your new detective friend can get you some inside information,” Amber suggested, a sly smile on her slender, oval face.

  Sadie started to protest but stopped. Fair was fair. She teased Amber about the UPS guy. Amber certainly had a right to respond in kind. And Sadie had taken a liking to the detective she’d met on a recent trip to New Orleans. It did feel odd to have a flirtation going on, but Morris, her husband, had been gone for years.

  “It’s not exactly in his jurisdiction, you know,” Sadie quipped, fighting back a smile.

  “It could be a crime that matches another crime in his area,” Amber countered. “Then he could call and compare details. That could help solve a case in New Orleans.”

  Sadie shook her head. “First, how many episodes of CSI have you been watching recently? And second, we don’t even know if it’s a crime or not.”

  Amber turned her attention to a woman approaching the register to make a purchase. The customer wore a glossy raincoat and sported a heavy layer of makeup. She gave Coco a dubious stare as she set a silk scarf on the counter and pushed it away from the pillow.

  “Don’t worry,” Sadie offered lightly, trying to elicit a smile from the dour woman. “She doesn’t eat scarves.” Earning the same look that Coco had received, Sadie tried to come up with a different comment, but Coco beat her to it, voicing a short yip of objection to the woman’s attitude. “Coco! Be polite. I think you may just need a time out.”

  Excusing herself, Sadie lifted Coco and the pillow and moved to the back office, taking a seat and getting Coco situated on top of her desk. She couldn’t blame the petite canine for reacting. Dogs had a unique perception about people, and the customer had seemed off-putting. Still, Sadie hadn’t recognized the woman, so she was likely a new customer. New customers only became repeat customers if they enjoyed their shopping experience. Maybe having Coco out of the way would let Amber pacify the woman while ringing up her scarf. A little extra tissue paper, perhaps, and a sample truffle—that often helped.

  Amber appeared in the office doorway a minute later. She shrugged her shoulders. “Not a word of thanks.”

  “We can’t please everyone,” Sadie said. “All we can do is try our best. There will always be a random person here or there who won’t be satisfied, no matter what. It’s likely the person’s general demeanor other places, as well. We can’t take it personally.”

  “That’s a sad way to go through life,” Amber said as she backed out of the door to return to the front counter.

  “Indeed,” Sadie muttered to herself and then patted Coco on the head. “If only everyone had your bright outlook on life.” Coco tilted her head to the side, pleased with the attention even if oblivious to the exact compliment.

  An incoming call on her cell phone interrupted Sadie’s thought process. She fished it out of her tote bag and answered cautiously, seeing that the screen flashed No Caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Sadie Kramer?” The man’s voice was unfamiliar and serious.

  “Yes, it is,” Sadie said. “How may I help you?”

  “This is Detective Frogert of SFPD. I just have a few questions for you.”

  Sadie was immediately struck by two entirely separate thoughts. One: Whoever this detective was, she would end up calling him “Froggy,” even if not to his face. And two: Why was he calling, and how on earth did he get her phone number?”

  “Yes, Detective,” Sadie said. “May I ask why you’re calling me?” She wasn’t about to give out any information if this was a prank call. Based on his name, it could have been. Then again, who would use such a ridiculous fake name if he didn’t need to?

  “I’m investigating a crime on Lombard Street.”

  Sadie almost dropped the phone. This is what I get for volunteering to deliver chocolate? “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand why you’re calling or why you have my phone number.”

  “Your car was observed at the scene,” the detective said. “Your license plate was reported by…” A shuffling of papers followed. “…by a Margaret Gabston.”

  Sadie snorted. “Of course her name would be Gabster.” Mags. Gabs for short. It has a nice ring to it.

  “Gabston, ma’am,” the detective corrected, his voice impatient.

  “Yes, of course,” Sadie said. “I can explain.”

  “That would be most helpful.”

  “You know that Valentine’s Day is coming up, right?” Sadie asked, feeling it important to
provide general background information.

  “My wife reminds me daily,” the detective said, his voice monotone. “Continue, please.”

  “I offered to deliver three boxes of chocolates for my neighbor, Matteo. He owns Cioccolato, a fabulous chocolate shop. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” Sadie paused to wait for an answer. No harm in doing a little advertising on Matteo’s behalf. “It’s a wonderful place to pick up chocolate for a gift.”

  “My wife reminds me of that too.”

  “I see,” Sadie said. “Well, it’s quite simple. The chocolate boxes were for Sue Bennett, as well as a blouse she had ordered from my boutique, Flair. Perhaps your wife…” Deciding not to push her luck, Sadie quickly added, “Anyway, I went to deliver everything and saw the commotion, so I left. That’s really the whole story, at least as much as I know.”

  “And where are the chocolate boxes now?” More paper shuffling.

  “I returned them to Matteo’s shop when I couldn’t deliver them, of course,” Sadie said, frowning. “Why?” Sheesh, buy your own chocolate! What kind of a deadbeat husband was this guy anyway?

  “Thank you, Ms. Kramer,” the detective said. “That’ll be all for now. I’ll be in touch.”

  The line disconnected, leaving Sadie with an uneasy feeling. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “Nothing to worry about, Coco,” Sadie said, noticing Coco had tensed up during the phone call, a reaction to Sadie’s annoyed tone. “I’m sure Froggy can figure this one out without our help.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Matteo,” Sadie said as she leaned across Cioccolato’s front counter, “I need to find out who was sending Sue Bennett those boxes.”

  Matteo, as she expected, hesitated. “You wouldn’t give out customer information, Sadie, even to me. At least not without good reason.”

  “I would if you were a person of interest in a crime,” Sadie said.

  “And you think you are?” Matteo gave Sadie a dubious look. Sadie merely admired a row of coconut almond clusters he was arranging, almost forgetting her quest.

  “I know I am,” Sadie said, focusing her attention back on the chocolatier. “Froggy practically said so.”

  “Froggy? You’ve lost me now,” Matteo said, moving on to touch up a display of caramels.

  “Detective Frogert from SFPD called to question me. It seems that annoying woman at the scene took down my license plate and gave it to the police.”

  “Really?” Matteo’s eyebrows lifted. “I see you weren’t exaggerating about her being a busybody. It seems extreme to involve you. You were only there to make a delivery.”

  “You know that, and I know that, but apparently the police don’t know that.” Sadie sighed. Just verbalizing the situation made it sound more absurd. “So you see, these are extenuating circumstances. Besides, there’s a good chance your customers are also my customers. That’s usually true.”

  “You make a good case,” Matteo said. “Maybe you should have gone into law.”

  The front door chimed as a trio of men entered. Sadie eyed them all suspiciously, which caused Matteo to shake his head in amusement. Grabbing a clipboard of orders from a back wall, he slid it over a side counter and turned his attention to the new customers.

  Sadie grabbed the order sheets eagerly and took the liberty of slipping out the door while Matteo was occupied. Ten minutes with this next door can’t hurt, can it?

  Back at her boutique, she waved the clipboard at Amber and hustled through the shop to her back office. Seated at her desk, she flipped through the orders, soon identifying the three that were intended for Sue Bennett. The victim, Sadie thought, redefining the poor woman’s status. The detective had called it a crime, so there was no question now.

  Was it a crime of passion maybe? Valentine’s Day chocolate orders often indicated romance. Sadie mulled it over, remembering a time when a doting aunt had sent her chocolate. So romance was not necessarily in the cards here, but it was a reasonable place to start. And start she would. For one thing, she needed ammunition in case the police pushed her further. For another, she never could resist a good mystery. Besides, didn’t she owe it to Sue Bennett to get to the bottom of this? She hadn’t really known the woman personally, but she’d been a decent customer over the years. She could always be counted on to show up for the yearly clearance sale. Yes, Sadie had plenty of good reasons to investigate.

  “I just sold that lavender dress with the lace collar and ruffled skirt,” Amber said. “Mrs. Simpson plans to wear it to church on Easter. And… might I ask what you’re up to now? I sense one of your adventures coming on.”

  “You have the keenest intuition,” Sadie said, smiling. Amber had managed Flair for years and was well aware of Sadie’s penchant for amateur detective challenges.

  “Don’t get yourself in trouble,” Amber warned. Her tone was more kind than intrusive.

  Sadie sat back and sighed. “I’m afraid I already am.”

  Amber glanced behind her to make sure no new customers had entered and then looked back at Sadie, confused. “How is that possible?”

  “You wouldn’t think it would be, but I’ve already had a call from the police,” Sadie explained. “Some detective named Froggy, who said my license plate was noted at the scene.”

  “Froggy?” Amber fought back a youthful smile.

  “Detective Frogert, to be precise. But he deserves the nickname. I mean, who names a child like that?” Sadie had started perusing the orders and spoke absentmindedly.

  Amber laughed. “I believe people give their children first names, not last.”

  Sadie looked up, lost in thought. “All three chocolate orders were from men.”

  “That’s typical for this time of year,” Amber said. “Don’t you think?”

  “You mean romance? Such as you might have if you asked Dylan out?”

  Amber tilted her head and eyed Sadie pointedly. “Speaking of romance, have you heard from your New Orleans detective?” Amber crossed her arms and smirked. Coco, curled up on Sadie’s desk, seemed to mimic Amber’s expression.

  “Not recently,” Sadie said, trying to ignore the fact that Amber had issued the perfect rebuttal to Sadie’s teasing comment.

  “Well, it seems you have a perfect excuse to contact him,” Amber said. “Not that you need one. You know he’s interested. Didn’t I see you sneak a delivery of flowers out of here shortly after you returned from New Orleans?” Coco now eyed Sadie with a look that seemed almost accusatory.

  Amber had a point. All Sadie could do was plead the fifth. She shrugged her shoulders.

  The sound of the bell over the shop’s front door saved Sadie from additional prodding, but Amber did toss one more comment over her shoulder as she turned to head back into the store to greet customers. “Long distance calls are included on your cell phone plan…”

  “There’s no reason to double team me,” Sadie said, giving Coco a playful pat on the head. “I saw you agreeing with her.”

  Sadie listened to the muffled voices of boutique commerce floating back from the front of the store. A call to Detective Broussard in New Orleans could be helpful. John—Jean-Pierre, technically—had experience handling this type of situation. Undoubtedly, he wouldn’t be pleased to know her license plate was noted at the scene. Not because it had brought the police to her door, figuratively speaking, but because he’d know she’d be unable to resist nosing into the situation. And even Sadie knew some things were better off left alone.

  Pushing all those thoughts out of her mind, including the flutters she felt at the idea of talking to Broussard, she turned her attention back to the order forms from the three men who’d ordered the chocolates for Sue Bennett. She ran copies on the office printer, then rearranged the papers on the clipboard so she could return it to Matteo. With his shop busy with customers, she could simply slide the batch of orders back on the side counter before heading out to do some innocent snooping around.

  CHAPTER FIVE

/>   The Stannon-Fielder building stood a good twenty stories high, its modern glass and metal siding gleaming as a few rays of sunlight made their way through the common San Francisco fog. The Montgomery Street location placed it smack in the middle of the city’s Financial District, a predictable place to find the first of the three men Sadie sought. Luke Manning, like Sadie’s late husband, Morris, dabbled in real estate investments. It hadn’t taken but a few searches on her computer to track him down. Conveniently, he’d used his business phone number on the chocolate order.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” a gentleman asked as he emerged through the front door. He wore a business suit that likely cost more than Flair took in during the course of a week. Relatively handsome and in his forties, he was clearly rushing. Sadie was impressed that he’d taken the time to ask if she needed assistance. Few people seemed to do that these days.

  “Just admiring the building,” Sadie said, craning her neck upward. “It’s very tall.” It’s very tall? That’s my best small talk for the moment? Still, she was on the prowl, so to speak, and not eager to get into a conversation. She was already in a mess simply from standing on a sidewalk earlier that morning.

  “Yes, it is,” the man said, obviously for lack of a better response. “Good day then.” He hurried off to whatever appointment he must have had, disappearing into a nearby parking garage with a Full sign posted at its entryway. Grateful she’d managed to find a parking place on the street—a rare find indeed in San Francisco—she turned back to the building.

  Sadie continued to look up until her neck and shoulders began to ache, then lowered her gaze to the front entrance. The revolving door served to beckon her inside, and she soon found herself in the lobby, looking at a directory on the wall.

  Manning Property Holdings was situated on the seventeenth floor, an impressive location that was sure to have a spectacular view of the bay. That their offices encompassed the entire floor told her the company was likely successful and Luke Manning even more likely to be—to put it delicately—filthy rich.