by Nicole Ellis
Her eyes filled with tears, and she swiped them with the back of her hand. “This is going to sound awful, but the police were at my house, questioning me.”
“About Louis Mahoney’s death?”
Her head bobbed up sharply. “Yes, how did you know?”
I tapped my fingers on the edge of my coffee cup. “Desi and I found his body last night.” I glanced down and then up to meet her eyes. “We saw the gift basket you sent him and the note you wrote to him.”
Her face crumpled, and the tears fell faster. “I didn’t know he was married, I swear.”
I handed her a tissue and although she dabbed furiously at her face, her mascara had begun to run.
“We figured as much. But why were the police questioning you?”
She took a big breath. “They said Louis was murdered, and now I’m a suspect.”
Shoot. I knew we should have taken that note.
“Murdered?” I echoed. My heart beat faster. I’d been through a murder investigation with Mr. Westen’s death a few months ago and had really hoped Louis had died of natural causes.
“What happened to him?” I hadn’t seen any noticeable evidence of foul play when we’d found his body.
“They said he died of anaphylactic shock,” she said in a weak voice.
“As in he was allergic to something? Like a bee sting?” The window hadn’t been open while we were there, although I supposed it was possible for there to have been a bee in his office.
“Apparently he was extremely allergic to peanuts.” She pushed her coffee mug away and propped her head in her hands, her fingers tapping against her forehead.
“So what makes the police think he was murdered? Couldn’t he have accidentally eaten something with peanuts in it?”
“Because it was the chocolates I gave him that killed him.”
“You knew he had a peanut allergy, and you gave him those anyways?”
“No!” she said sharply, then looked guiltily at the stairs as if checking to make sure her outburst hadn’t been overheard by the kids. In a softer voice, she explained. “The chocolates had no peanuts in them … at least not naturally. Someone injected them with some sort of peanut product.”
I twisted my thumbs together and met her eyes. “And you knew nothing about it?”
“Jill!” she admonished. “Seriously? I had nothing to do with it. I really liked him.”
“Ok, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. But this is such a mess. How did you get involved with him anyway?”
Something thumped loudly upstairs. We both gazed at the ceiling, but there were no cries of pain following the noise, so we relaxed. Mikey had probably knocked a toy off the bookshelf onto the floor.
She sighed. “Louis and I met when he contacted me about leasing additional warehouse space. I showed him a few places, and we got to talking. You probably wouldn’t guess it if you met him briefly, but he could be really sweet.” She stared into my eyes. “You have to believe me. I had no idea he was married. I’d never have gone out with him if I’d known.”
She’d never given me any reason to doubt her integrity. “I do believe you. But how did the peanuts get into the chocolates?”
“I have no idea. Someone must have put it in the chocolates after I dropped off the basket.” She glanced at the stairs again and lowered her voice. “This can’t be happening now. This is the worst possible time. Brad and I have always shared custody in the past, but he’s talking about moving out-of-state, and he wants to take the girls with him. If the courts find out I’m suspected of murder, they’ll never let me keep them.”
This kept getting worse and worse. “Maybe the police will figure out who really killed him soon.”
“I don’t know. They seemed pretty convinced it was me. Said I must have known he’d lied to me about not being married, and I killed him for it.” She made a sound, a harsh rendition of her normal laugh.
“Mommy?” A little girl’s voice interrupted us. Brenda wiped her eyes with the tissue and spun around to face her daughter. She slid off the stool.
“Hey, sweetie.” She hugged Dara. Sara came down the stairs and joined their hug.
“Can we go home now?” Sara asked.
“Yep. I’m making macaroni and cheese for dinner. Does that sound good to you?” They gave each other high fives and grinned at her.
“Can you please go get your backpacks?” When the girls were out of earshot, she said to me in a wavering voice, “I can’t lose them. They’re my everything.”
I nodded. I wanted to help my friend, but I didn’t know how. “I can see if Desi’s husband Tomàs knows anything about the case.”
“Would you?” Hope tinged her tone.
“Of course. I’ll call Desi tonight and ask her to find out. She can usually wheedle some information out of him. And I’ll see if I can find anything else out.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Don’t worry, everything will work out.”
“I hope so.” The girls came back into the room, and she walked to the door with them. Before leaving, Brenda turned to me. “Thanks for everything, Jill.”
I smiled at her. “No problem. That’s what friends are for.” I shut the door behind them and leaned against it. Asking Tomàs about the murder was a good start, but if I really wanted to help my friend, I needed to do a little snooping. Anything I could find out about Louis would help, and I knew where to start.
6
Unfortunately, auction business took priority over snooping around Louis’s murder, and I had to practically chain myself to my desk Friday morning to make sure I was on track with the auction.
Beth poked her head into my office. “Hey, just thought I’d check in on you. How’s the auction planning going?”
“Going good. I think we’ve finally got the menu nailed down and have the attendee count finalized, at least until Nancy changes her mind again.”
“Great.” She scanned my desk and then my face, as if trying to determine how to proceed.
“What’s up?” I pushed my chair back and stretched my arms over my head.
“I know you’re busy, but we have a last-minute wedding, and I’d like you to take care of it. Do you think you have time for it with your other commitments?”
I dropped my hands to my sides and stared at her. I was supposed to be part-time at the Boathouse, and I had an almost full-time workload. If it had been anyone else, I would have said something, but with Beth being my mother-in-law, I had to tread carefully. She seemed to sense my concern.
“It’s nothing major,” she said hastily. “It’s a small, midweek wedding. Probably about forty people.”
I relaxed slightly. That didn’t sound too bad. “When is it?” With a few weeks to plan, I could easily pull that off.
She blushed. “Next Tuesday.”
“As in four days from now? You’re kidding me, right?” I looked at my calendar. It was already Friday, and the auction was only a week away. I’d also been working on a wedding and a graduation party for the coming weekend.
“No.” She sighed. “They decided to get married as soon as possible because the groom is shipping out with the Navy in two weeks. The bride didn’t want to give up her chance at a formal wedding, so they asked if we could squeeze them in. Tuesday was the only day that we had open that worked with their schedules. I’d do it, but I have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday afternoon that I can’t reschedule, and I’d like for someone to be here that day in case we need to tweak anything with the event.”
My heart softened. Planning a wedding on such short notice would be stressful, but I knew what it was like to be separated by distance from my spouse. If this made their lives any easier, I couldn’t say no.
Beth’s words sunk in, and I looked up from my calendar and scrutinized her face. “Is your doctor’s appointment anything I should be concerned about?” A few months ago, I’d discovered Beth had a heart condition. I hoped her health hadn’t deteriorated.
“Nope.” She waved her hand dismissively.
“Just a check-up.” She glanced at Ella lying in the corner on her mat. The baby lifted herself up from her tummy and giggled for her grandma.
A smile crossed my lips. Ella was growing so fast and would soon be up and walking. I’d brought her to work with me so far, but in another few months, I’d need to figure out a more permanent childcare solution for the times when Beth or I were unavailable.
Beth scooped her up and kissed her forehead. “Do you mind if I take her for a while?”
I laughed. “Go right ahead. Actually, I was going to ask you if you’d mind watching her for an hour or two. I’m going to head over to Ericksville Espresso and see if I can still get the gift basket they promised for the auction.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Weren’t you and Desi just there when you found Louis Mahoney’s body?”
“Yes, but the reason we were there in the first place was to get the gift basket.” I shuffled some paperwork around on my desk. “After the police arrived, we didn’t think it prudent to ask about the whereabouts of the basket for the auction. But it’s something Nancy had arranged—Louis Mahoney was her brother-in-law—and I don’t want to find out what will happen if an auction item she procured doesn’t show up at the auction.”
“I’m sure she’d understand, right?” Beth struggled to keep a straight face. She’d heard too many horror stories about Nancy Davenport over the last two years from Desi and me.
I scrunched up my face in answer, and she laughed.
“I’ll take Ella. Go, get the basket. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you if it doesn’t show up. I’ll put the information about the wedding on your desk, and I’ll let the clients know you’ll call them about it in a few hours.”
“Thanks, Beth.” I pulled the bottom desk drawer out and retrieved my purse. Slinging it over my shoulder, I stood and walked to the door. She followed me out, carrying my daughter.
“Say bye-bye to Mommy.” She waved Ella’s hand at me. I blew a kiss at the baby, who blew bubbles back at me. I left the Boathouse grateful that I’d been given the opportunity to work there. The stress could get to me sometimes, but there weren’t many other places that I would find fulfilling work and still be able to maintain some semblance of a work-life balance. And having a built-in babysitter didn’t hurt.
I drove up to Ericksville Espresso and maneuvered into a parking space. Last time I’d seen this parking lot, it was full of emergency vehicles and illuminated by flashing lights. Now it had returned to the utilitarian warehouse that I’d entered two days ago. A red sports car was parked near the front door, but the reserved parking spot was conspicuously empty.
I pushed the swinging door open to the main reception area, still surprised at how normal everything looked. Like before, the desk was empty, but I heard people talking just beyond the door to the warehouse. While I waited for the receptionist to come back, I perused the pictures on the walls. Someone had hung photographs of coffee beans on the walls. Every picture depicted a different style of roasted coffee bean, some a dark, burnt color and others more of a medium brown. Desi would be fascinated with the color variations. When we’d been in here before, neither of us had given the front office a second thought after we went into the warehouse.
The door slammed open, causing the roasting coffee odor to invade the room. A woman in her early thirties strutted into the office, teetering on impossibly high heels. She wore a tight red tank top and had more makeup plastered on her tanned skin than I wore in a year. She glanced at me with annoyance, then sat down behind the desk without saying anything to me.
A sign on the desk read “Terri Scalia.” I approached the counter and cleared my throat, hoping to get her attention. She ignored me.
“Excuse me, Terri?”
At the sound of her name, she finally deigned to notice me. “Can I help you?”
I cringed. Her nasal voice grated on me like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Yes, I’m Jill Andrews. I’m here to pick up the basket for the Busy Bees Preschool Auction.”
She shot me a look like I was crazy and sniffed in the air. “An auction basket?” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t talking about that tiny wicker basket of chocolates that the real estate woman sent for Louis, are you?”
My heart pounded, and my chest felt like someone was sitting on it. She’d seen Brenda’s basket. The question was; was it before or after the chocolates were tampered with?
“I don’t think so, but maybe?” I lied. “What was in that basket?”
“It was the chocolates that killed Louis.” She glared at me as if I had something to do with his death. “I think there was something else in there, but I didn’t unwrap the basket.”
“So it was wrapped in plastic when you received it?”
“Yeah, I put it on my boss’s desk before I left for lunch that day. Why are you so concerned about it? Is it the basket you were looking for, or not?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure the basket the preschool was promised contained coffee products from Ericksville Espresso.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you asking me questions about it? Are you working with the police or something?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” I said quickly. If Tomàs found out I was snooping, I’d never hear the end of the safety lectures. “Brenda, the real estate agent who sent the basket with the chocolates, is actually a friend of mine.”
“You’re friends with her?” Animosity rang from her voice.
“Yeah, why? Do you know her? Had she come in here before?”
“The only time I ever saw her was when she dropped off the gift basket, but I know of her. Well, I knew he’d been sneaking around with some woman.” She laughed harshly. “Louis’s wife, Sandy, was furious when she found out after his death that he was having an affair with her. She came storming in here this morning, asking me if I knew anything about it.”
It wasn’t my place to talk about Brenda’s relationship with Terri’s boss, but I wanted to defend my friend. “I don’t think she knew he was married.”
“Right, and I’m Santa Claus,” she scoffed. “Well, she wasn’t the first of his affairs.”
Poor Brenda. Although she’d said he was sweet, the guy sounded like a real jerk. Terri didn’t know anything about the auction basket, and I wanted to get back to work, but she seemed like she wanted to talk now, so I played along.
“Really?” I asked conspiratorially. “Did his wife know about the other affairs?”
Her face pinked up.
“No, she never knew.” She stopped, as if just now realizing she’d been divulging private information to a complete stranger. “Why are you asking about Louis?”
I leaned against the counter and said in a low voice, “I’m the one who found Mr. Mahoney’s body. I saw the basket from Brenda on his desk.”
“You found him? Was he still alive when you discovered him?” Terri scooted as close as she could get to the reception counter. She’d gone from suspicious to oddly concerned about her boss. She looked up at me, and I felt the eagerness in her intense gaze. “Did he say anything to you about me? I feel so bad that I had a dentist appointment and wasn’t here when he needed me.” I could hear the hope in her voice.
I gave her a strange look. “No, sorry. He was already gone when I got there.”
“Oh.” Her face fell, and she pushed her chair back from the counter, suddenly all business. “Well, no one said anything about a donation to a preschool auction.”
“Is there someone else who might know? We were really excited about this donation and would still love to get it.”
“My other boss. Dorinda Lang.” She sneered the words. “She’ll know.”
For all the information I was getting out of Terri, I might as well have been talking to Mikey. I tried my hardest to be polite. I wasn’t aware of there being another owner at Ericksville Espresso, but that explained the second office door. “Ok, is Ms. Lang in today?”
“She’ll be in later.”
&nb
sp; “Can you tell me what time she’ll be back?”
She rolled her eyes, clicked the mouse a few times on her computer, then looked up at me. “Looks like she’s out until three today.”
“Great.” I smiled at her. “I’ll come back later. Thanks for all your help.”
“Uh huh.” She turned back to her computer, and I left the office.
While I’d been unsuccessful in obtaining the auction basket, I had learned quite a bit about Louis Mahoney. Although his secretary seemed to be fond of him, he’d been a serial cheater. He’d probably gained plenty of enemies through his extramarital affairs. If his wife had known about any of them, she’d be a good suspect.
I’d come back later in the day and talk to his business partner, Dorinda. Maybe she’d have some more intel on who would want to kill Louis.
As promised, Beth had left the contact names for the last-minute wedding on my desk. The catering information had been completed, but I had a few questions for her before I called the client to confirm details.
I knocked on the half-closed door to her office. She came to the door and opened it slightly, holding her index finger to her mouth.
“Shh. Ella’s asleep.”
I glanced in the corner of the room to where Beth had set up a small Pack ‘n Play. My daughter was sleeping peacefully with her thumb stuck in her mouth.
Beth came out of the room and shut the door behind her. “What’s up? Did you find the wedding folder I put on your desk?”
I nodded. “Actually, I had some questions about it.” I pointed at the catering information on the client intake form. “Is this the total finalized number of attendees? Or are they allowed to change it later?” Usually we gave clients up until a week before the event date to change their catering order, but with this one being so last-minute, I wasn’t sure if Beth had let them bend the rules a little.
“Oh, right. I did tell them they had until tomorrow to give us a final count.”
“And they’re paying the regular weekday fee, right?”
“Yes, but I’m not charging them anything extra for the smaller room where they’ll have the ceremony. I may have forgotten to include that.”
