When they had finished breakfast and the girls had gone upstairs to clean up the debris in their rooms before leaving for school, Spencer asked, “When do we need to start the lunch prep? Do we have time to tackle any of the downstairs mess?”
Dani glanced at the clock. “Unfortunately not. I like to have the sacks filled and ready by ten thirty, and it’s past seven thirty.”
“Okay.” Spencer found a dish towel in a drawer and tied it around his waist. “What do you want me to do?”
After a few seconds’ thought, Dani rattled off a list of instructions. Twenty minutes later, she was shocked at how well he took direction. She’d been afraid that an alpha guy like Spencer would have difficulty following her lead, but he listened carefully and did exactly what she told him to do.
At ten fifteen, with the lunch-to-go bags ready and in the fridge, Dani and Spencer relaxed over a cup of tea and a slice of date-nut bread. She’d just taken her first bite when the doorbell rang.
They both stiffened and Spencer asked softly, “Are you expecting anyone?”
“Only my lunch customers.” Dani pushed back her chair and stood.
“Wait.” Spencer touched her hand. “Let me go. If it’s Mikeloff or your ex, it’ll be easier for me to get rid of them than you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Dani had been on her own for a long time. Once her mother died, her father had expected her to function without much support from him. Still, it felt nice to have some backup. “But I’ll accept your offer. I really don’t want to deal with either the detective or Kipp.”
Dani followed Spencer down the hall but waited out of sight. She could hear his footsteps crossing the vestibule’s marble floor, then the rattle of the security chain as he eased the door open. She and the girls frequently forgot to put the chain in place, but with recent events, Dani vowed to be more conscientious about using it.
“Who are you?” a young woman’s voice echoed through the foyer.
“Better question,” Spencer countered. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“My name is Frannie Ryan and I’m here to see Dani.” A pause and the woman added, “Is she okay? I noticed all the wrecked stuff in the trash.”
“You went through Dani’s garbage?” Spencer’s tone was outraged.
“Back off, dude,” Frannie snapped. “I saw it by the side of the house. I didn’t put on waders and sift through for private information.”
“But clearly you’ve considered doing that.” Spencer’s voice roughened. “You’re that reporter, aren’t you? Why don’t you leave Dani alone?”
Realizing she needed to intervene, Dani rushed into the foyer and said, “Spencer, it’s fine. Frannie and I have an agreement. Please let her in.”
Grunting, Spencer closed the door to unhook the chain, then swung it open. He stared at Frannie as she passed him and approached Dani.
“You promised to keep me updated on Regina’s murder.” Frannie waved her finger in Dani’s face. “But you never called me.”
“It’s only been three days.” Dani heard the ding indicating someone was at the sliding window and dashed back into the kitchen.
Spencer and Frannie followed her, and she gestured for them to take a seat at the table. The customers were lining up and as Dani served them, she kept an eye on her guests and an ear on their conversation.
“A lot has happened in the past three days.” Frannie helped herself to a slice of the date-nut bread, grabbed the teapot, and looked around for a cup. “For instance, I managed to get a peek at the autopsy report.”
“We already know what it said.” Spencer got up, found a clean mug, and handed it to the young woman. “So we really don’t need your information.”
“Why don’t you like me?” Frannie poured the tea. “We’re on the same side.”
“Not quite.” Spencer leaned forward. “The majority of the time reporters think that the First Amendment is more important than catching and putting away the bad guys. More important than keeping people safe. Those of us in law enforcement feel the exact opposite is true.”
“I…” Frannie’s face reddened. “I want the bad guys behind bars too.” She swallowed. “But I also believe in the public’s right to know. Surely, there’s some compromise we can reach and work together.”
Spencer was silent.
Dani was about to intervene when Spencer turned to Frannie and said, “So you’re from Scumble River. Do you know Chief Boyd and his wife? I’ve been meaning to call to see if he’d vouch for you.”
“That’s a great idea.” Frannie beamed. “Wally and Skye will definitely tell you that you can rely on me.”
While Spencer stepped out of the kitchen to make his call and in between serving customers, Dani brought Frannie up to speed on what she’d learned. Spencer may have had concerns about trusting the young woman, but Dani had made a deal with her and wasn’t reneging.
Frannie took copious notes and often stopped Dani to add her own information. The reporter had discovered much of what Dani had found out. She knew about the bulimia, the nude picture of Bliss, and Laz’s alcoholism, but she hadn’t heard about the identity theft.
“Are you aware that the Bournes haven’t returned from their trip, but they did call and fire their housekeeper?” Dani asked Frannie just as Spencer returned.
He frowned when he heard Dani’s words. “I see you didn’t wait for me to clear Ms. Ryan.” He rolled his eyes. “Good thing her friends say she’s trustworthy.”
“Told you so.” Frannie smirked, then turned to Dani and frowned. “I hope Mrs. Carnet wasn’t canned because she talked to me.”
“That wasn’t it,” Dani reassured her. “They blamed her for Regina’s death.”
“The Bournes think Mrs. Carnet killed her?” Frannie squealed.
“Not exactly.” Dani paused to sell a lunch, then explained, “They just think that if the housekeeper had been there, Regina wouldn’t have died.”
“Which is entirely unreasonable.” Spencer shook his head. “Once the insulin was in the food, unless the housekeeper was able to persuade Regina not to eat it, there was nothing the woman could have done.”
“And if Regina was in a bulimic episode, nothing would stop her from binging.” Dani sold the last lunch and flipped the sign on the window around to indicate she was closed. Taking a seat at the table, she asked, “Frannie, have you found out anything else about the victim or her clique?”
“Besides the fact that Regina might be the meanest person that I’ve ever run across?” Frannie made a face. “I mean what she did to that pledge at her sorority was beyond heinous.”
“Do you know that girl’s name?” Dani asked excitedly.
Frannie shook her head. “The sorority refuses to talk about it, and since it happened a while ago, other people’s memories are fuzzy. I’ve heard Greta and Gloria and Grace.”
“It’s Gail,” Dani said. “But we don’t have a last name. Anyway you could get that?”
“I’ll work on it, but…” Frannie’s lips twitched, then she said, “We may not have to worry about it.”
“Why?”
“In the wee hours of the morning, the cops arrested Regina’s killer.” Frannie wiggled excitedly in her seat. “And I got the scoop.”
“Who?” Spencer asked.
Dani talked over him. “Then why in the heck did you come here asking me about what I found out?”
“My editor wants a follow-up to the story of the arrest, which is in today’s afternoon edition.” Frannie hugged herself. “She said that if it was good, I could do a whole series on Regina’s sordid life.” Frannie beamed. “We’re calling it ‘Posh Mortem—Deathstyles of the Rich and Famous.’”
“Who did the police arrest?” Spencer repeated his question.
“Vance King.” Frannie giggled. “They caught him breaking into the B
ourne residence and stealing a video camera memory card. It turned out to be a recording of him dressed in leather pants and a vest, jerking off while he flogged some woman wearing a ball gag, spike collar, and not much of anything else.”
Dani glanced at Spencer. “Evidently, Vance got tired of trying to convince Bliss to let him in the house and decided to take matters into his own hands.”
“So to speak.” Spencer snickered. “So to speak.”
Chapter 22
“I know I should be happy that someone’s been arrested and Mikeloff will have to leave me alone, but it doesn’t feel right,” Dani said as she and Spencer cleaned up the kitchen. “Do you think Vance King really killed Regina?”
Frannie had left a few minutes ago to turn in her first piece on the life and death of NU’s three-time homecoming queen. A lot of the university boosters and Normalton’s upper crust would be extremely unhappy with the reporter’s exposé on one of the town’s wealthiest families and their socialite friends.
“It’s a reach.” Spencer stretched to slide a huge Pyrex bowl onto a top shelf and his shirt pulled away from his waistband.
With his washboard stomach exposed, Dani checked to make sure she wasn’t drooling before she asked, “Why do you say that?”
“First, if King is the killer, why didn’t he return to the house and grab the memory card right after she died?” Spencer continued to put away dishes and pans according to Dani’s chart. “He should have been keeping an eye on the place and gone in when the housekeeper left to follow the ambulance to the hospital.”
Dani had drawn up the diagram Spencer was using for the girls. She liked everything to be in its correct spot. Searching for what she needed while she was in the middle of a recipe annoyed her to no end.
“Second”—Spencer looked around for any stray items—“King doesn’t seem smart enough to come up with as elaborate a plan as insulin in food.”
“True.” Dani finished drying the last couple of spoons, pulled open the nearby drawer, and placed them in their proper compartment. “How would he even know that an overdose of insulin would kill someone? Let alone think to inject the desserts or her snacks?”
“And you said that Bliss was adamant that King was unaware of Regina’s bulimia,” Spencer reminded her. “If that’s the case, he couldn’t be sure it would be Regina who ate the food from the party?”
“Excellent point,” Dani said thoughtfully. “The other thing that bothers me is when would Vance have had time to sneak into the Bourne kitchen and put the insulin in the food? He was falling down drunk by the time I left, and if he’d done it earlier, there was no way to tell which of the pastries I would put away for Regina. They were all together before I served the desserts.”
Dani checked her watch. It was going on one o’clock. She had to start getting organized for the birthday party. She shot Spencer a quick glance. How long was he planning on sticking around?
“And third”—Spencer rested a hip on the counter—“King doesn’t fit the profile for this kind of murder. If he kills someone, it will be in the heat of the moment. He’ll lose his temper or his sex games will go too far. He’d do it with his bare hands or whatever is nearby. And then he’d run home to his mommy and daddy.”
“I know you mentioned that you weren’t a profiler, but were you with the FBI?” Dani began taking the tea sandwiches from the massive restaurant-size refrigerator. “I don’t recall you or Ivy ever specifically saying what you did in law enforcement.”
“The program at Quantico is available to other agencies.” Spencer lifted the plastic-wrapped tray of smoked salmon and dill from her hands and put it on the counter.
Dani remained silent, aware that Spencer had avoided naming his previous employer. Wondering what he was hiding, she slid the platter of stilton and pear next to the first tray, quickly following with the cucumber and cream cheese and the egg salad. The party’s head count was set at twenty-five and she had prepared 150 tiny sandwiches. Any that were left could be shared with the residents and staff of the assisted-living facility.
“What would be the profile of Regina’s killer?” Dani asked, fetching the containers of linzer and shortbread cookies, then going back for the lemon-curd tartlets and the ginger scones with cardamom.
Dani had only been able to squeeze in this gig because the birthday cake was being provided from a specialty bakeshop and the assisted-living facility was taking care of the tea and punch. At first, the grandniece who had booked the event had said that if Dani couldn’t make the cake, they’d just skip it. But Dani had pointed out that a party without a cake was really just a meeting.
Dani had been brusque with the grandniece, hoping the woman would either book someone else or reschedule. But she hadn’t, and Dani had had to get up at five in the morning on Thursday to prepare the food. She could only hope that the sandwiches held up okay overnight.
Spencer broke into Dani’s thoughts. “Regina’s killer was probably an intelligent, precise woman with a great deal of self-control and determination.” He scratched his head. “Although a meticulous man is a slight possibility.”
“I hope you didn’t share that with the police chief.” Dani went into the pantry and came back with a rolling cart. “Your description sounds a lot like me. Or any other successful businesswoman.”
“Or college student.” Spencer helped Dani load the trays and containers onto the cart. “I think Bliss is still our best suspect.”
“I hate to admit it, but that’s true.” Dani rolled the filled cart outside and toward her van. “Bliss is by no means as empty-headed as she pretends to be. And she had to have a lot of self-discipline to put up with Regina’s demands.” Dani and Spencer lifted the loaded cart into the cargo area and Dani added, “Not to mention that Bliss is certainly unwavering in her determination to marry Vance.”
“But you don’t want it to be her.” Spencer patted Dani’s shoulder.
“No.” Dani headed back inside to change clothes. “I would much rather have it be Vance. But I can’t hope that an innocent man goes to prison.”
“Good thing it isn’t up to us.” Spencer followed Dani to the bottom of the stairs. “As long as you and Ivy are off the hook, I consider our part of the investigation over.” He shot her a firm look. “You need to keep off of Mikeloff’s radar. Understand?”
“I know you’re right.” Dani’s answer was grudging. “Which is why I’ll do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not because you issued an order.”
Spencer looked a little sheepish and nodded, then stood staring at her. Dani shuffled from foot to foot. Was he staying? Did he plan on going with her to the party?
As if coming out of a fog, Spencer said, “Okay. I’d better let you get ready.” He walked down the hallway toward the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up behind me. You really should get an alarm system.”
“As soon as money gets a little less scarce, it’s on the top of my list,” Dani said, then remembered her manners and yelled, “Thank you for everything.”
“No problem.” He turned and smiled at her.
When she’d discovered the mansion had been vandalized and Spencer had not only made sure she was safe, but also agreed that she shouldn’t call the cops, Dani had known he was a good guy. However, it was him sticking around this morning and helping her out with the lunches and everything else that sealed the deal.
Ignoring the voice inside of her that said even though she now knew she could trust Spencer, she shouldn’t get involved with him, she added, “I owe you a fabulous dinner.”
Spencer paused. “You really don’t.” Then, his expression unreadable, he said, “But anytime you want to cook for me, just tell me when and I’ll bring the beer.”
“How about tomorrow night?” Dani said before realizing it was a Saturday. Feeling her cheeks heat up, she blurted, “Unless you have a date with your girlfriend. I mean you’
re welcome to bring her.”
“Where did you get the idea that I have a girlfriend?” Spencer frowned.
“Detective Mikeloff.” Dani looked anywhere except at Spencer.
“He lied,” Spencer said firmly. “There isn’t any other woman in my life.”
“Other?” Dani whispered, her heart fluttering. When Spencer didn’t respond, she said, “So, dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Spencer studied his shoes. “I have to work the rally, but after that I’m free. Is six o’clock okay for you, or do you prefer later?”
“Six is good.” Dani waited for Spencer to leave, and when he didn’t, she couldn’t figure out how to end the conversation so she waved. “See you then.”
• • •
The birthday party went very well. The guest of honor had loved the food and even shared her recipe for making green tomato–raspberry jam. Tippi was punctual and was a huge hit with the older guests. When the festivities began winding down, Tippi assured Dani she had everything under control and sent her back to the mansion to search for Kipp’s book.
Once Dani was home and changed into shorts and a T-shirt, she headed to the attic. She had a decent chunk of time before she needed to pack up and go to her personal chef gig and she was determined to get through every single carton until she found the damn book.
Although she couldn’t recall the exact title, Dani did remember the book’s appearance. It was slightly larger than a paperback, but less than a quarter of the usual thickness, not more than seventy or so pages. That thinness was one of the reasons it would be so hard to find in the boxes.
A couple of hours later, tired, dirty, and dying of thirst, Dani grabbed one of the three remaining cartons. With only ten minutes left before she had to get ready to leave, she was running out of time.
Slitting the packing tape, she reached inside and started piling the contents on the floor. A stack of padded hangers was followed by a pair of terry cloth slippers and a package of plastic spoons. Why on earth had she kept disposable cutlery?
Tart of Darkness Page 22
