Like the note on your door this morning?
Well. She wasn’t expecting that. So much for easing into the conversation.
You’ve talked to Froggy, she typed. Obviously it wasn’t even a question.
Call me. No, I’ll call.
Sadie watched the screen light up with the incoming call. It was tempting to answer, just to hear his voice. But while her office was relatively private, it was still just a few feet away from the back of the store. In addition, her office and the dressing room shared a wall. She waited until the call stopped and then typed another text.
At the store. Not private enough.
Sadie watched the little dots on the screen that indicated he was typing a response.
Good call. Frogert asked if I knew anyone who might be trying to threaten you.
That made sense, not because Broussard was a detective but simply because he knew her. Of course Froggy would contact him. He probably checked with Matteo and Amber as well. She made a mental note to follow up with both of them.
What did you say? I mean, what do you think? Suddenly befuddled, Sadie wasn’t quite sure what she meant to ask. She didn’t really care what he had told Froggy when it came down to it. She just wondered what Broussard’s own take on it was.
Six possibilities.
Sadie nodded.
Three men, three women.
She nodded again.
Are you there?
Sorry, Sadie typed. I was just nodding, agreeing with you.
Well, I can’t see you from here.
Sadie smiled, appreciating their mutual affinity for dry humor.
Look at the possible motives, Broussard sent.
Motives? Sadie returned, hoping for more clarification.
I’m being paged. Please call me later, Broussard typed.
Will do. Sadie sent the short reply knowing he was already off and running.
Motives… Sadie sat back in her chair. Motives for the murder? Or motives for leaving the note? They were not the same thing. But somehow they were linked. That was what she needed to figure out, why each of the suspects might have left the note. That might just lead to the answer to the bigger question: Who killed Sue Bennett?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Considering the question of motives, Sadie decided a bit of fortification was in order. After checking with Amber to make sure everything was fine, she headed over to Matteo’s. As expected, the place was swamped with last-minute holiday purchases. She helped herself to a sample raspberry-espresso truffle and took a seat at one of several ice-cream-shop-style tables.
It was a lot to ponder, the inner workings of six different people’s minds. As for the murder itself, jealousy seemed the obvious choice. It certainly was for the women—and maybe even for the men, if they’d found out about each other. There was always a chance of that “if I can’t have her, then no one can” type of thinking.
Luke Manning? She’d definitely ruled him out. He was far too casual in his reactions to both the fishing comments and the Cioccolato logo. In addition, she was starting to wonder if he’d even been seeing Sue Bennett on anything other than a professional basis. It had sounded like he wasn’t even the one who’d ordered the Valentine’s chocolates. Apparently his fiancée ordered gifts for his clients. Or did his receptionist? Ah, there was something she never would have considered if he hadn’t mentioned the fact he didn’t order his own gifts.
Sadie sighed and turned her thoughts to Bruno. Of the three men the victim had been seeing—if in fact she was seeing them all—Bruno struck her as the roughest. He was definitely the gruffest of them all, and she was certain he was the strongest physically. Would that make him more able to strangle someone? Or did that particular method of murder have nothing to do with strength? It wasn’t like she had any personal experience with this.
Zane of Zany Z’s was hard to read. He didn’t seem like the type to get overly jealous. With all the women he’d had hanging around him at the bar, Sadie was pretty sure his modus operandi was that of a player, more interested in the women being interested in him than the other way around. She suspected Sue was only one of numerous flings Zane had. It’s possible that finding out she was seeing someone else might not matter to him at all.
But it could matter to Lila.
That brought Sadie right around to the second set of suspects: the women. Like the saying went, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And Lila didn’t hit Sadie as the type to shrink back and not stand up for herself. She’d be likely to suspect Zane too, based on his demeanor at the bar. Maybe she decided she’d put up with his wandering ways long enough and wanted to do something about it.
Gina, Bruno’s counterpart, definitely seemed like the jealous type. The icy stare Sadie had received the first time she’d stopped by the crab shack still lingered in her memory. If Gina wasn’t comfortable with Bruno conversing with female customers, she could only imagine the woman’s reaction to finding out about an affair. Then again, she might be more likely to kill him than the woman involved. They did have those mallets handy after all.
And then there was Luke Manning’s fiancée, whatever the elegant woman’s name was. Giselle? Isabella? Maybe she suspected the chocolates were more than just a client gift. Or that she should have been the recipient, not the client. This woman was the most mysterious of them all. All Sadie really knew about her was that she dressed well—overdressed was more like it—and that she knew the other two women since she’d seen the three of them together at Fisherman’s Wharf. She knew the fiancée had been to Flair, if only to browse. That was it. She didn’t even know the woman’s name. Sadie almost wanted her to end up being the killer for the mystery of it all.
Sadie sighed and stood to allow other customers to have the table. Six suspects, multiple motives, and most still in the running. In fact, she reminded herself, she shouldn’t entirely rule out Luke Manning. Maybe he was a brilliant actor. Maybe he knew Sadie was involved, suspected her trip to his office wasn’t what it appeared to be. Maybe he had left the note on the door. Could Sue Bennett have been a disgruntled client who had uncovered some secret that would ruin his business? And he felt he had no choice but to do away with her?
No more late-night detective shows! Sadie thought to herself. She was heading into motive mania. Instead of broadening the scope at this point, she needed to narrow it down. She would hold to ruling Luke Manning out and concentrate on the others.
Returning to Flair—yes, of course she grabbed a truffle on the way—she helped Amber gift wrap a charm bracelet and then retired to her office to check her phone for messages. So deep in thought about the suspects’ motives, she hadn’t thought to take her phone with her to Matteo’s. As it was, a text from Broussard waited on the screen.
No match for prints.
Well, Sadie thought. That was certainly fast. In addition, speaking of fast, she wasn’t sure whether to be thrilled or worried that Froggy and Broussard seemed to have an instant connection on developments.
Already? It seemed the logical response. After all, Froggy had only left the shop a short while ago. How could they possibly know if there was a match for prints or not?
No prints. Broussard typed back.
Oh, right… It doesn’t take any time to match prints if there aren’t any to match.
Wiped clean? She typed back and then waited for a reply.
Have you thought of trying HGTV?
She could picture Broussard laughing, which really wasn’t fair. It didn’t take Columbo to imagine someone would wipe a note clean in order to not leave prints. In fact, she decided to tell Broussard exactly that.
It doesn’t take Columbo to think someone would wipe a note like that clean. Sadie sighed as soon as she sent the text. Talk about proving her love of detective shows.
But do you wear a trench coat?
Ah, as she suspected, Broussard was familiar with the popular TV detective. After all, the show ran for decades.
Another text came i
n from Broussard before she could reply.
Let Frogert handle it. The note might not have been serious.
He did have a point there. The cutout magazine letters seemed a bit dramatic.
True, Sadie typed. But it still means I’m involved. Whether I want to be or not, she added silently. All this just because she tried to deliver chocolate and a nosy neighbor reported her car’s license plate number. It was amazing how a simple errand could end up so convoluted.
Unfortunately, Broussard sent back.
I think it will be solved tonight. Sadie knew this might be too much information to give Broussard, but she sent the text anyway.
Why?
Volunteering at the food bank. Best to be a little vague, Sadie thought. No reason to point out she thought the suspects might all be there. I’m giving them a donation of truffles. It wasn’t a lie. She was giving them the truffles. The fact she’d already dropped them off and was going back for other reasons was just a minor detail.
If truffles crack the case, let me know. We can add that to our crime-solving methods here in New Orleans.
Sadie laughed. You may have to use beignets, she typed back.
Whatever it takes.
That was exactly what Sadie had in mind. If her hunch was right, all the suspects would be at the food bank that evening. And if it took a box of truffles to give her an excuse to be there too, so be it. She stood up, preparing to help Amber close up shop.
Did Matteo give you anything besides the box of truffles?
Sadie laughed. Didn’t the entire world understand how important truffles were?
A box of truffles that would retail for a few hundred dollars is enough of a donation.
Excellent point, Broussard texted back. Let me know how it goes.
Report to follow, Sadie answered dutifully.
The text exchange over, she put her cell phone away and helped close up the shop. After sending Coco off with Amber for a dog-sitting session, Sadie headed out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Before even entering Free Harvest, Sadie knew two of her suspects had already arrived. A somewhat dilapidated white van sat outside the entrance, the name Bruno’s spelled out on the side in peeling paint. A salty, fishy smell wafted from the open rear doors of the vehicle as both “Brownie” and Gina unloaded crates of food, some labeled from other wharf businesses. Setting aside the fact that the two were murder suspects, Sadie admired the couple’s kind nature in rounding up food from other vendors to deliver to the food bank.
Stepping inside the building, Sadie noted the dining room looked even more festive than it had that morning. Helium-filled red and white balloons hovered above chairs, tied at periodic intervals. Heart-shaped confetti dotted the tops of the tables, adding to the décor of streamers and construction paper left from earlier in the day.
Sadie was impressed. The community of volunteers had certainly come together to make this a special event for those attending. Even a few musicians from a local college had set up instruments in one corner of the room, planning to add to the ambiance of the evening. It seemed all the bases had been covered, not the least of which was the food.
“Glad you could make it!” Nora greeted her with enthusiasm, though she did glance down at Sadie’s tote bag suspiciously, which hung from one of Sadie’s elbows. Laughing, Sadie set down a second bag of goods she’d picked up at a market on the way over. With both hands, she opened her tote as if going through a security check. Nora nodded and grinned after looking inside and finding it free of potential canine mischief.
“It’s the least I could do after the ruckus this morning,” Sadie said.
“Don’t even worry about it.” Nora waved her hand in the air as if dismissing the memory. “Our regulars haven’t had that much entertainment since Sid Samuel’s toupee fell into his chicken noodle soup.”
“Oh my,” Sadie exclaimed.
“Yep. It was especially entertaining after he’d put it back on. You should have seen those noodles hanging down.” Nora lifted her arms high and draped her fingers over her forehead. “Don’t worry; he had more fun laughing than anyone else.”
Sadie looked around at the tables again, imagining the variety of scenes the place saw during the course of the year. Eager diners already occupied many of the seats. She recognized Harold from breakfast that morning, which reminded her of the heavy bag she’d set on the floor. She picked it up and handed it to Nora.
“Thank you!” Nora exclaimed as she looked inside. “This many cans of orange juice concentrate will cover us for several mornings. You must have cleaned out the store’s case!”
“Not quite. I did leave a few cans for other shoppers.”
“Follow me,” Nora said. “We’ll put them in the freezer.” She headed for the door to the back area, Sadie right behind her.
The scene in the kitchen was what she had pictured with one exception: the massive spread of food. Bowls of fresh green salad, baskets of dinner rolls, and foil-covered, ready-to-serve aluminum pans crowded ninety percent of the prep table. In one corner, Bruno was filling iced bins with fresh crab.
Another vendor entered and placed a heavy kettle on one of the few spots still open on the counter. He left and returned with one more. “Chili,” he announced.
“Thanks, Tom,” Nora said. “You know everyone loves your chili.”
“Wow,” Sadie said, looking around. A particularly appealing chocolate sheet cake caught her attention. I simply have to hang out here more often.
“Valentine’s Day is our biggest event, believe it or not,” Nora said. “So we receive generous donations from restaurants in the area. Private donors too.”
“It’s really your biggest?” Sadie said. “Even bigger than Thanksgiving or Christmas?”
“Definitely,” Nora said. “Many places offer hearty meals for those holidays, but not many make Valentine’s Day a special event. People get lonely around this time. There’s so much emphasis on romance, happy couples, sweet greeting cards intended for a loved one—that sort of thing. Free Harvest gives them a place to be with others if single or widowed or without family.”
A now-familiar voice pitched in. “Of course, couples are welcome too.” Luke Manning smiled as he pulled a baked ham out of an oven, handing it to none other than his fiancée, who set it on a cutting board. As Sadie expected, it was the elegant woman she’d seen at his office, in her boutique, and with the other two women at the wharf.
What the heck is her name? Bound and determined to find out once and for all, she marched over and extended her arm toward the woman, who reached out and clasped it with a greasy plastic glove. “I’m Sadie Kramer.” She regretted reaching for the ham-glazed hand but had the good manners to not yank it away.
“Gertrude Prunella Pigsby,” the woman said. “But everyone calls me Gerp.”
Sadie blinked. Quickly Nora sent her a nod to let her know it really was the woman’s name. “Okay, Gerp it is,” Sadie said. “Glad to meet you.” So much for Juliette, Anastasia, Giselle, or Isabella…
“Lila should be here any minute,” Nora said. “We’ll move all this to the serving area then. We’re just keeping everything warm for now.”
Right on cue, Lila popped into the kitchen. Sadie watched the door, hoping… Yes, there he was, the sleazy boyfriend himself, a giant plastic bag of salty pretzel mix slung over his shoulder.
Sadie looked around and smiled. They’re all here. Perfect.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Sadie looked at the spread on the serving table, impressed. She’d been to wedding receptions with lesser fare. Honey-glazed ham, mashed potatoes, at least four varieties of salads, chili, and a gigantic basket of sourdough dinner rolls were only the start of the delicious offerings. An iced bin of cracked crab gave people the option of enjoying San Francisco’s famed Dungeness crustacean. A Chinatown bakery had sent over miniature custard tarts. And of course, there was the chocolate sheet cake she had eyed in the kitchen. When Sadie found out it was a d
onation from Ghirardelli, she almost forgot why she came to the Valentine’s Day dinner altogether.
Matteo’s truffles, arranged beautifully around the cake, brought her back to reality. After all, bringing those as a donation had originally served as her ticket into what she suspected would be a showdown. It was unlikely all the suspects could be gathered together without something blowing up. And when Frogert showed up—which didn’t surprise Sadie in the least—she knew she was right.
The band started into a rendition of “That’s Amore,” and guests fell into line as Nora, Luke, Lila, Sadie, and other volunteers juggled serving spoons, ladles, tongs, and cake knives to transfer food onto plates held in eager hands. Even after filling a good two hundred plates, there was plenty left. Musical selections moved through several love songs, keeping an even balance between songs applicable to singles as well as couples.
“I wish Sue could have been here,” Luke said after the line dwindled down, his voice barely a whisper, as if talking to himself. However, it became apparent immediately that his comment was louder than he intended it to be.
“I’ll bet you do,” Gerp said. She smacked a scoop of mashed potatoes down on a guest’s plate with such emphasis that the plate almost fell. She turned to eye Zane and Bruno next. “That goes for all three of you.”
Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Zane replied first, looking at the women in an oddly calm manner that spoke more of curiosity than discomfort. “You all knew?” His statement was followed by mixed expressions on the other men’s faces. Bruno paled while Luke merely looked confused.
“Get real,” Lila said. “Of course we knew. She eyed all three men. I don’t know why guys always think they can get away with that kind of stuff.”
“But I…” Luke started to speak but was quickly drowned out by louder voices.
“Face it, Gina,” Gerp said. “It was your idea from the beginning, a way to solve three problems at once.”
A Flair for Truffles (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 4) Page 12
