Tart of Darkness

by Denise Swanson

  “Didn’t you tell me that the police chief ’s husband’s son was one of them?” Dani asked as she started to toss carrots, onions, and mushrooms in olive oil and sprinkle them with salt and pepper.

  “Uh-huh,” Spencer mumbled around a mouthful of artichokes and mozzarella.

  “Did he have anything interesting to say?” Dani asked, then as the microwave dinged, she pulled out the potatoes and sprinkled them with grated Romano and Parmesan cheeses. When Spencer was silent, she added, “About Vance King’s being arrested.”

  “Well.” Spencer took a long swig of beer, then blew out a long breath and said, “I was going to wait until after dinner to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?” Dani’s pulse raced as she returned the potatoes to the microwave, then slid the steak and veggies into the oven.

  “Vance was released this morning.” Spencer frowned. “His folks got him a fancy defense lawyer and he was able to have him released on bail.” He shrugged. “They got him for the breaking and entering, but all the evidence for Regina’s murder is circumstantial.”

  “Which means Mikeloff might come after me again.” Dani sighed.

  “Maybe,” Spencer admitted, his gaze fastened to the countertop.

  “What do you think the likelihood of Mikeloff setting his sights on me might be?” Dani turned on the timer and started setting the table.

  “Fifty-fifty.” Spencer peeled the label from his beer bottle. “If he pursues any other suspects, including you, he weakens the DA’s case against King.”

  “But…” Dani took out glasses and filled them from the pitcher of water in the fridge. “You said fifty-fifty, so there’s a catch.”

  “Mikeloff might be so fixated on vengeance for his nephew that he may not care about upsetting the DA.”

  “Shit!”

  “But there’s an equal chance he isn’t.” Spencer got up, rounded the island, and put his arm around her shoulder. “Try to forget about the murder and the idiotic detective and everything else. Tonight, let’s pretend that everything is okay.”

  Chapter 24

  Monday morning, Dani was still thinking about her nondate with Spencer. Once she had succeeded in putting thoughts of Detective Mikeloff’s vendetta out of her mind, she and Spencer had had a wonderful evening. While Spencer was both interesting and funny, unexpectedly, he was also sweet. He enjoyed her food, she enjoyed the nutty flavor of the beer he’d brought, and they’d both seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

  With the girls out of the mansion, after Dani and Spencer ate, they moved to the family room for dessert. Handing Spencer his dish of raspberry fool, Dani had eyed the spot next to him on the sofa but took a seat on a nearby armchair instead. Although he’d given a few hints that he was attracted to her, he’d always backed away. Which meant she couldn’t be the one to move their relationship from the friend zone to something else. It had to be his choice.

  When the grandfather clock had chimed twelve times, she was shocked. How had the time flown by so quickly? Spencer had seemed just as surprised but said his goodbyes and assured Dani he would call her if he heard anything about Regina’s case. She’d promised to do the same and walked him out to the porch.

  For a minute, it had looked as if he might kiss her, but she must have been imagining things, because instead, he told her to get inside and lock the door. Once she complied and waved at him through the window, he turned and jogged down the steps.

  Now, twenty-four hours later, as Dani sipped a cup of coffee, she finally admitted to herself that she was disappointed at how her Saturday had ended. Didn’t Spencer feel any attraction to her at all?

  Shaking her head at her foolish heart, Dani opened a new Excel spreadsheet on her laptop. With Starr’s help, Dani had finished the lunch-to-go sacks early, leaving her a half hour before the first customers would arrive. And she was determined to figure out who killed Regina Bourne.

  After typing the names of the suspects in Regina’s murder across the top—Laz, Vance, Bliss, and Gail—Dani considered what she knew about each one. Under Laz, she noted the nude picture of Bliss and his alcoholism. Vance’s column contained the memory card showing him in BDSM mode and his break-in. And in Gail’s row, Dani put the manuscript theft and the betrayal of the promised sisterhood. Gail had a strong motive, if only it all hadn’t happened so long ago.

  Bliss’s list was the longest. All of the abuses she’d suffered at her supposed BFF’s hands, as well as the fact she knew of Regina’s bulimia and had a key to the house. Bliss definitely seemed like the most likely murderer, but Dani’s instincts said the girl didn’t do it.

  Dani was staring at the laptop monitor, trying to think of what she was missing, when the doorbell rang. Her heartbeat sped up and she felt unable to move. What if it was Mikeloff coming to arrest her?

  Forcing herself to walk toward the foyer, Dani was relieved to hear a familiar voice yell, “Dani, it’s me, Frannie. Hurry up. I’ve got something big to tell you.”

  Mother Nature had turned up her furnace, and as Dani welcomed the reporter into the mansion, a wave of heat accompanied her.

  Once they were settled at the kitchen table, Dani handed Frannie a bottle of water and said, “I already know that Vance is out of jail.”

  “That’s old news.” Frannie uncapped the Dasani and guzzled half the contents. Sighing in relief, she reached into her tote bag before plopping a thick sheaf of paper on the table. “I got hold of the manuscript Regina stole from her sorority sister.”

  “Does it have her full name?” Dani grabbed the top page.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Frannie made a face. “This is the copy Regina submitted, so it has her as the author. But I think the story is autobiographic, which might help us find the girl. Look at this.”

  While Dani read the flagged sections, Frannie wandered around the kitchen and helped herself to one of the cinnamon-orange muffins leftover from the girls’ breakfast.

  The plot was a heartrending story of a girl’s struggle with juvenile diabetes. It illustrated how the condition influenced every decision she made, from what she ate, to what she wore, to her reproductive choice. It was a tale of an emotionally fragile young woman who by the end was entering college and beginning to feel like she could have a normal life.

  Laying aside the pages, Dani looked at Frannie and asked, “So you think Gail is diabetic? And who better to have insulin handy and know the effect of too much of the medication?”

  “Exactly.” Frannie nodded enthusiastically.

  “Still, my biggest problem is that Regina stole the manuscript so long ago, why would Gail kill her now?” Dani rubbed her chin. “Why not murder Regina when the incident happened?”

  “Well”—Frannie’s brown eyes sparkled—“I may have some insight into that.”

  At the sound of a chime, Dani glanced at the sliding window. “Hold that thought.”

  The lunch rush had started and there were several customers lined up. When there was a break, Dani leaned on the serving counter, focused on Frannie, and said, “Okay, go ahead.”

  “You didn’t ask where I got the manuscript,” Frannie teased.

  “Fine.” Dani rolled her eyes. “Where did you get the manuscript?”

  “From Regina’s agent.”

  “You mean her previous agent?” Dani asked. “Surely the woman wasn’t still representing her.”

  “Yes and no.” Frannie took a sip of water. “She wasn’t until a few months ago.”

  “What happened a few months ago?” Dani sold a couple more lunches.

  “Regina sent her another book.”

  “Wasn’t the agent afraid this one was someone else’s writing too?”

  “At first.” Frannie caressed the manuscript with the tip of her finger. “But she was intrigued by the query letter, so she agreed to read it. And it turned out to be a highly fictionalized stor
y of what Regina went through when she was ‘falsely’”—Frannie made air quotes with her fingers—“accused of plagiarization.”

  “Seriously?” Dani thought she’d heard it all in her years working in human resources, but Regina’s actions kept surprising her.

  “And”—Frannie paused dramatically—“the agent said it was a really good novel. She sent it out to several publishing houses and there’s currently a bidding war for it.”

  “So, if Gail somehow heard about this new book’s potential for success, that could be the thing that pushed her over,” Dani mused.

  “Oh, she heard about it, all right.” Frannie bounced in her seat. “Once the agent realized what a blockbuster Regina’s book might be, just to be on the safe side, she emailed Gail to verify that she wasn’t the author of the new book.”

  “So the agent has Gail’s last name.” Dani held her breath.

  “The woman claims she only has an email, but I don’t believe her.” Frannie pursed her lips. “She hadn’t heard about Regina’s murder until I contacted her, and I suspect with her original client dead, she might want to make some kind of deal with Gail to write her side of the story.”

  “Because the two books together could be even bigger bestsellers, and if she represents Gail, the agent will have a live client,” Dani guessed. “And she doesn’t want anyone to get to the author before she does.”

  “Bingo.” Frannie touched the tip of her nose with her finger. “Now we just have to figure out who Gail is and get her to confess. My boyfriend, Justin, got me the pledge list for the fall that she pledged Alpha Beta Delta, but there is no Gail.”

  “By ‘got you the list,’ I assume you mean hacked the sorority’s computer?”

  “Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated.” Frannie neither confirmed nor denied Dani’s accusation.

  “Yeah, well—” Dani interrupted herself. “Wait. Starr mentioned that sororities often use nicknames for pledges. Is Gail a short form of another name?”

  “Hmm.” Frannie scrunched her face in thought, then said, “I got nothing.”

  “Let’s put it into a search engine and see.” Dani moved from the sliding window to her laptop, saved her spreadsheet, and brought up Google. After a few tries she said, “Except for various spelling of Gail, the only other possibility is Abigail.”

  “Let me check for Abigails on the pledge list.” Frannie tapped her phone and peered at the tiny screen.

  Dani heard a chime and walked over to the open serving window. A glance at the customer standing there and in a blinding flash of insight, she put the pieces together. An extreme concern with carbs and sugar could indicate diabetes. Was her customer Abby, Regina’s Gail?

  Before she could warn Frannie, the reporter yelled, “Eureka! There’s a pledge named Abigail Goodman.”

  Dani glanced at the girl at the window. She stood frozen, guilt and trepidation warred for prominence in her haunted blue eyes.

  Continuing to stare at her phone, Frannie said, “I’ll bet she’s our murderer.”

  Abby let out a whimper. Her gaze flickering between Dani and Frannie, then she backed away from the window and slid to the ground. Dani rushed out the back door and saw the girl huddled on the sidewalk, clasping her legs to her chest with her head on her knees.

  Rocking back and forth, Abby sobbed, “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”

  Dani knelt down beside the young woman and put her arms around her. She smelled of baby powder and strawberries, and the innocent aroma brought a lump to Dani’s throat. How had this girl, barely out of her teens, come to this?

  Drawing Abby to her feet, Dani guided her inside. After settling her in a chair at the table, Dani grabbed the kettle to make some tea.

  The girl sat mute and unblinking. She was clearly retreating further and further into her own world, and if something wasn’t done soon, she’d become totally unresponsive.

  Returning with a steaming cup of Earl Grey, Dani asked, “Abby, are you diabetic?” The tearful girl nodded and Dani said, “Can I add sugar to help with the shock or will that be bad for you?”

  “It’s okay,” Abby whispered. “When I was younger, I had a lot of trouble keeping my numbers good, but since I got on the pump my senior year in high school, it’s a lot better.” She slumped. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “No problem.” Dani waited until the girl drank some of the tea, then said, “You’ll probably feel a lot better if you tell us what happened.”

  “I don’t know if I should.” Abby rubbed her eyes. “I probably should talk to a lawyer or something. Right?”

  “We’re not the police,” Dani reassured her, then gestured across the table. “This is my friend Frannie, and she’s a writer like you.”

  “But it’s probably dumb to say anything more.” Abby’s tone was wishful, but she pressed her lips together and remained silent.

  Dani searched her mind for a way to get the girl talking, then said, “It seems to me that what you’ve always wanted was for your story to be told.” When Abby gave a little nod, Dani continued. “Frannie is a reporter and her paper is doing a series of articles on Regina.”

  “Of course they are.” Abby clenched her jaw. “Even dead it’s all about her.”

  “Exactly,” Dani agreed. “But if you were to tell Frannie your side, it could be about you. Your story would be what people remember.”

  “I could make sure of it,” Frannie agreed. “What’s more memorable? A spoiled, rich girl whose evilness got her killed, or the young woman she wronged taking matters into her own hands to get justice?”

  After a few seconds, Abby said, “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Oh?” Dani shot Frannie a quick glance and mouthed, Record this.

  “I was just getting over what Regina did to me.” Abby sighed. “It took quite a while, but I was finally writing again.”

  “What happened?” Frannie asked. “Was it the news of Regina’s new book?”

  “You mean her first book?” Abby looked at Frannie as if the reporter had slapped her. “The other book was mine. It was never hers! Never!”

  “Sorry,” Dani said quickly. “Of course the book was never Regina’s.”

  “Definitely not!” Frannie shook her head emphatically. “I misspoke and I apologize.”

  “Right.” Abby’s tone conveyed her skepticism. “Anyway, I was finally shaking my depression, and then I got the email from Regina’s agent.” Abby inhaled sharply and snarled, “She had an agent that she got because of my work, but all my queries have gotten me zilch.”

  “So you didn’t know before that email that Regina was writing a novel about what happened between you two?” Frannie asked.

  “No.” Abby rubbed her upper arms as if she were cold, then demanded, “Why would she do that? Hadn’t she taken enough from me already?”

  “I doubt Regina saw it that way,” Dani said regretfully. “She was too narcissistic to even consider how you might feel about it.”

  “Is that when you decided to kill her?” Frannie asked. “When you realized that once again, she was getting the book deal you deserved?”

  “I…” Abby stuttered, a look of confusion on her face. “I never meant to kill her. It just sort of happened.”

  “Okay,” Dani said thoughtfully. “Let me see if I have the timing straight. Eighteen months ago, Regina steals your book. You find out and stop her from getting it published, but because of the dispute about the rights, no editor will touch it.”

  “Four years of work down the drain.” Pain etched lines around Abby’s mouth.

  “Regina is kicked out of the sorority, but you still left. Why?” Frannie asked.

  “I was afraid the sisters would blame me for losing such a rich, beautiful girl for our chapter.” Abby twisted a lock of her hair. “My therapist says that I was wrong not to give them a chance.”


  “I overheard some alumni talking and I think your therapist was right.” Dani tilted her head. “Since the whole debacle, have you had any contact with Regina or her friends?”

  “Not until after I got the email from her agent.” Abby’s nostrils flared. “Once I found out about the book, I confronted her.”

  “When was that?” Frannie looked up from her notes and Dani noticed the reporter was constructing a timeline.

  “Maybe a month ago.” Abby’s voice rose as she said, “I explained my objections and she told me to go eff myself!”

  “Is that when you decided to kill her?” Dani’s tone was sympathetic.

  “No!” Abby yelled. “I told you. I never meant to kill her.”

  “So what happened?” Dani said soothingly. “Did you decide to take matters into your own hands? Do something to stop the publication?”

  “I…I…” Abby scrubbed her eyes with her fists. “I started leaving her little…presents.”

  “What kind of presents?” Frannie asked sharply.

  “At first, just pictures of people in accidents or in coffins with a note that said Stop the book or this will be you.”

  “And when that didn’t work?” Dani asked.

  “I found a dead snake on the road and put it in a fancy gift bag with the same message.”

  “When was that?” Frannie asked.

  “The afternoon right before her luau.” Abby lifted her chin. “That got her attention.”

  “I bet,” Dani murmured, afraid to say too much and interrupt the girl’s train of thought.

  “Regina tracked me down and told me if I didn’t stop harassing her, she was going to go to the police.” Abby pounded her fist on the tabletop. “She had the nerve to threaten me after what she’d done.”

  “That must have made you angry.” Dani spoke carefully. “What did you do?”

  “At first, I didn’t know what to do.” Abby sniffed. “I called my therapist and she said that I had to stop with the notes and things. That instead of being passive-aggressive, I needed to do something proactive.”