Death to the Highest Bidder: A Jill Andrews Cozy Mystery #2

by Nicole Ellis

  Had Louis ever met customers in his office? If so, that could add a whole bunch more people onto the list of possible suspects. Thinking about Louis in his office made me remember the sight of his swollen face, and I shuddered. Would I ever be able to get that image out of my head?

  Someone knocked on my office door.

  “Come in.” I scooted my chair closer to my desk.

  “Hey, Jill,” our catering manager, Lizzie said.

  “What’s up?

  “Well,” she said, “I’m a little confused about the food order we received today. The numbers aren’t matching up for the total of event attendees.”

  I groaned. It was always something. We were often shorted food by our suppliers, and I’d have to spend all day trying to fix their mistakes.

  “Which events?”

  “The wedding tomorrow and then your preschool auction on Friday.”

  Well that just went from bad to worse. Nancy would never forgive me if things weren’t perfect for the preschool auction.

  “Ok. What’s the issue?”

  “There’s too much food for the wedding, and we’re way under for the auction filet mignon entrees.”

  “Did you call the supplier and ask them what happened?”

  Lizzie turned pink. “I did.”

  “And what did they say?” I was trying to train the catering staff to problem solve first before coming to me about everything. My first few weeks had consisted of extinguishing one fire after another.

  “They said you sent them an e-mail asking for the change.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t do that.”

  She shrugged. “They said you sent them a change order for the beef on Saturday.”

  My cell phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to check who was calling. Nancy. I wasn’t going to deal with her right then, so I let it go to voicemail.

  I opened my e-mails and scanned the message I’d sent the supplier on Saturday. I checked the information in the change order with my files on the wedding. The color drained from my face as I ran my finger over the order number.

  I’d given them the wrong order number and had accidentally changed our order for the auction from a hundred people to thirty. I’d meant to decrease the wedding’s order to thirty from forty. I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands before looking up at her.

  “Are we able to get more filet mignon before the auction?”

  “I can ask them. I wanted to find out from you first what the order was supposed to be.”

  I looked her in the eye. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. This is all my fault. I’ll call the supplier and talk with them. Thanks for bringing this to my attention.”

  Nancy called again, and again I punched the button to send her to voicemail. Irrationally, I wondered if she’d somehow found out that I’d messed up the entree order. My stress levels shot up even higher. She would kill me if the catering wasn’t exactly as she requested. Was I going to have to drive to our supplier in Seattle and buy more filet mignon for the auction? How much would that even cost?

  How could I have made such a big mistake? The effects of all the stressors in my life were coming out. I’d changed the beef order right after the ominous phone call with my mother. Normally, I could handle that type of thing and stay calm, but with taking care of the kids by myself, managing the auction preparations, and trying to help figure out who had really killed Louis, it was too much. Had I made a mistake in going back to work? Who knew what mistakes I’d make in the future.

  I was spiraling and needed to send myself on a time-out. I sat on the floor of my office with my back pressed up against the wall and closed my eyes to meditate. After a few moments of blissful quiet, my mind was clear enough to call the supplier and attempt to fix my error.

  Before calling our beef supplier, I double- and triple-checked the correct number of guests for each event. When I was satisfied that I had accurate numbers on the notepad in front of me, I dialed the supplier. The receptionist there directed me to the manager. Crossing my fingers, I explained my mistake.

  He chuckled. “Sure, we can get you more filet mignon by Friday. But it’s going to cost a little more because our normal delivery day to you is on Monday, and we’ll have to make a special stop to get it there by the end of the week.” He quoted me the amount for the extra charge. “I won’t be able to cut your other order though. We’ve already delivered that quantity.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. We could find a use for the wedding overage, but the auction entrees had been the big problem. The extra cost for the auction wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected. “No problem. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he said pleasantly before hanging up.

  I entered the extra delivery fee for the auction’s dinner entrees on the spreadsheet I used to track each event’s individual expenses. The additional charge would significantly cut into the minimal margin for the event, but at least it wasn’t going to sink it. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Beth though. She always seemed to have everything together in her life, and I didn’t want to tell her I couldn’t handle the pressure.

  When I’d finally worked up the nerve to tell Beth about the whole filet mignon snafu, I knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” she sang out.

  I heard Ella giggling from inside the room.

  “Hey,” I said. Beth had Ella sitting on her desk in front of her and was jiggling her legs, pretending she was dancing.

  She looked surprised to see me. “Do you need help with something? I thought you’d have left to go get Mikey by now.”

  I looked at my watch. Shoot, she was right. I did need to get him soon. There wasn’t any time to dillydally with telling her. I took a deep breath and spit it out.

  “Beth. I messed up.”

  Her head bobbed up sharply. “What’s wrong?”

  “I accidentally cut the order for the auction entrees in half. Well, by more than half.” I held my breath. I didn’t think she’d be mad, but I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me either.

  She raised an eyebrow. “How did that happen?”

  “I mixed up the event numbers for the wedding on Tuesday and the preschool auction and requested the wrong order be changed.”

  “Ok. Well, did you call the supplier?”

  “I did. They said they could increase our order, but since they have to make an unplanned delivery to us, they need to charge an extra fee.” I told her the amount of the additional delivery charge. “I’m really sorry Beth. I don’t know what happened. I changed the order from home on Saturday, and I must have been so upset about finding Louis Mahoney’s body last week and some personal things that I wasn’t careful enough.”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Things happen. It’s fixed now, and it didn’t cost us too much more.”

  I hung my head. “I’ll work extra to make up for it.”

  She put Ella back in her Pack ‘n Play and crossed the room to where I stood in the doorway. “Honey, don’t worry about it. I’m serious. This kind of thing happens all the time.”

  “To you?” I was near tears now.

  “Of course. You don’t think I’ve been in this business for so long and never made a mistake, do you?”

  “I guess not.” Sometimes it was strange working for my in-laws, but at least they were kind and understanding people.

  “I remember one time when Lincoln double-booked the main hall and scheduled two weddings at the same time. We didn’t realize the mistake until both wedding parties arrived an hour before the wedding.”

  My eyes widened. “He did? What did he do?”

  “We scrambled to get one of the other rooms ready before the guests showed up. Luckily, one of the weddings wasn’t too big, and we were able to fit them into one of the smaller rooms. The bride wasn’t happy, but after we offered them a fifty percent discount on the whole wedding and catering fee, they accepted the alternate venue. It was still a little confusing
having two weddings going on at the same time.” She laughed. “A few of the attendees didn’t realize they were in the wrong room until the groom walked up to the altar.”

  She scanned my face. “You look like there’s something on your mind other than the ordering issue. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I leaned against the wall. “It’s my parents.” It felt good to let it out. I hadn’t been able to talk to Adam since the odd conversation with my mother the day before. “They’re coming out in a few days for Mikey’s birthday, and they have something important to tell me, but they won’t say what. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “Oh.” She smiled at me. “I think you’re worrying about nothing. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “I guess. It’s not just that though. I’ve been having second thoughts about working at the Boathouse. I’ve been working more hours than I’d expected, and it’s taking a toll on our family life.” I thought about the dishes piling up in the sink and the mound of laundry waiting for me at home. While I wasn’t the best housekeeper in the world, I usually hadn’t let it get to that point.

  Beth frowned. “You didn’t say anything, so we didn’t know. We can decrease your hours if you’d like. I’d hate to see you quit.” Ella cried and Beth picked her up, holding her close. She kissed the top of her head then looked into my eyes. “Lincoln and I love seeing you and the kids every day. But I understand how complicated it can be juggling home and work responsibilities. When my children were little, I went through the same thing as you.” A far-off look came into her eyes. “There was always so much to do here and at home.”

  “So what did you do?” I wiped away the small tears pooling in the corners of my eyes.

  “I did what I had to do. Take care of both home and work. It wasn’t easy, and you’ll never be perfect, but you just do the best you can do.” She danced a little with Ella. “You’re good at this job, and I think you like it, right?”

  I nodded. “I do. I think I’m just letting the stress get to me.”

  “I think so too. Let’s talk about this after the auction is over, ok?” She smiled at me.

  “Ok.” I checked my watch. “Beth, I’ve got to go get Mikey. Thanks for reassuring me about the ordering error and the other stuff. I appreciate it.”

  She hugged me with one arm. “I’ll bring Ella over to your house after work, ok?”

  “Thanks.” I returned to my office, grabbed my purse and locked up before leaving for the preschool.

  10

  Brenda was at the preschool when I arrived to get Mikey. She stood outside the door, as if psyching herself up to go in. She shot me an apprehensive look as I approached the door.

  “I don’t think anyone in there bites.” I laughed. “Well, maybe that isn’t quite true. Those gerbils have given me the evil eye before.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “Brad dropped the kids off at preschool this morning after his weekend with them, so I haven’t had to deal with Nancy yet. You know, after everything that happened last week.”

  I patted her arm. “It’ll be ok. I promise.”

  She looked at me dubiously but followed me inside.

  “I’ll go get Mikey and the girls if you want to stay here.”

  She nodded and leaned against the wall. “Thanks.”

  I figured if she stayed in the lobby, there would be less chance of running into Nancy. Luckily for her, that was true. Unluckily for me, that was because I literally ran into Nancy in the hallway.

  Mikey was in his classroom, but he hadn’t yet retrieved his backpack from the hooks in the bathroom hallway. He was busy in the building center, intent on pounding a nail into a stack of wood, alongside his cousin Anthony.

  “Backpack?” I asked. “It’s time to go.”

  “I’m almost done, Mom.”

  I sighed. “I’ll get it for you.” I hurried into the hallway, not paying attention to where I was going and ran smack into Nancy.

  After I bumped into her, she stepped back and curled up her lips. “Please watch where you’re going. There are small children in here.”

  “Sorry, I should have been more careful.”

  “Yes, you should have.” She eyed me with disdain, then said, “And you haven’t returned my phone calls. I need to speak with you about the catering choices and—”

  I cut her off. “The catering order is set. I’m sorry, but we aren’t able to make any more changes at this late a date. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my son.”

  She sputtered, then spun around and exited the hallway into a side classroom.

  I found Sara and Dara, and retrieved their backpacks as well.

  With the girls in tow, I walked past Mikey, snagging his arm with a free hand. “Let’s go.”

  He protested but came along with me and the girls.

  In the lobby, Brenda was still leaning against a wall, looking like she wished she could blend in with the paint. Sara and Dara ran to her, and she hugged them before flashing me a smile. When we were safely outside, she asked me, “Do you want to come over for some coffee? This past weekend was pretty lonely without the girls, and I’d love some company.”

  I considered her offer. Ella would be with her grandmother for a couple more hours, so I had time. Plus, I wanted to find out if Brenda had been in Louis’s office on the day of his murder.

  “Sure, that sounds great.”

  We made arrangements to meet at her house in twenty minutes. Mikey and I had to walk home to get the car as Brenda’s house was on the other side of town.

  “Are they going to have any toys for boys to play with?” He strained his head to look at me in the rearview mirror on the way to Brenda’s house.

  “I’m sure they’ll have something,” I reassured him. “Maybe even Legos.”

  “Ok.” He leaned his head back against the car seat and stared out the window.

  We pulled into Brenda’s driveway and parked behind the minivan that she used as her run-about-town car. She also owned a nice white sedan that she used for her real estate business, but she kept that in the garage, safe from children’s sticky fingers.

  Dara flung the door open as we approached the house. “Hi!” she said brightly. “Mommy is making cookies. Chocolate chip this time.” She grinned and ran back inside.

  “Cool,” Mikey said, and ran ahead to follow her inside.

  By the time I got to the kitchen, only thirty seconds later, they each had a chocolate chip cookie stuffed in their mouths.

  “It’s ok for him to have one, right?” Brenda asked. She held a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt in the other.

  “It’s fine.” I wasn’t too particular about the amount of sweets he ate, as long as he still ate his veggies too.

  “How did you have time to make cookies already?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “You’ve only been home for fifteen minutes, max.”

  “A sheet of premade cookies.” She winked. “A mother’s best friend.”

  “Ah.” That explained it. I wasn’t much of a baker, so I’d made my share of refrigerated take and bake cookies.

  “I started coffee but haven’t had a chance to finish it.” She gestured with the spatula to the coffeepot.

  “I can do it if you’d like,” I offered. “After the day I’ve had, I’d love a cup of coffee.”

  “That would be great. Can you get the cinnamon out of the spice cupboard? I like to put a dash of it in with the coffee grounds. Gives it a little extra flavor.”

  I nodded and opened cupboards until I found one that contained spices. A combination of aromas wafted out of the cupboard as I reached for the cinnamon, my hand grazing something that was spilled on the bottom of the cabinet. I picked up the bottle that sat in the sticky mess. Peanut extract. I looked from the bottle to Brenda and back again. She had her back turned to me as she finished arranging the cookies on a plate.

  Was it weird that she had peanut extract in her cupboard? It was completely possible that someone could have injected the
chocolates that had killed Louis with peanut extract. I’d never met anyone who’d bought it before, but I did remember one of her daughters talking about how her Mom had made peanut butter cookies earlier in the week. Maybe she’d used it in that recipe.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She turned toward me, holding the plate of cookies, with a big, happy homemaker smile on her face.

  I held up the peanut extract. “Do you use this in your peanut butter cookies? I wonder if it would kick up the peanut flavor if I used them in my cookies.”

  “I do. Just a few drops and the whole flavor profile intensifies.”

  I debated asking my next question, but decided to go for it. “Do you think it would be easy to inject the extract into candy?”

  “I don’t know about injecting it. It would be pretty strong.” She shrugged. “But I guess you could.” She narrowed her eyes at me and set the plate down on the counter. “Wait a minute.” She shot a glance at the kids and lowered her voice. “Do you think I had something to do with Louis’s death? I told you I didn’t do it.”

  I’m not the best of liars, and I scrambled to figure out how to answer her question. “No, of course not. It just seemed like using peanut extract would be an easy thing to inject into the chocolates.” I eyed her. “Besides, you didn’t know he was allergic to peanuts, right?”

  She reddened and squirmed a little.

  “You did know, didn’t you?” I found myself backing away from her.

  “I did, but I swear it wasn’t me who killed him. On our first date, I suggested Thai food, but he didn’t want to risk it because of the peanut oil and peanuts that are common in Thai cooking. He was always so careful and checked the ingredients on everything before he ate it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew about his allergy?”

  Brenda pointed to the small glass bottle of peanut extract. “Because then it would give you and everyone else another reason to think that I killed him.” Her voice became teary as she spoke. She swiped at her face and then held the plate up toward the kids.