“Okay. Thank you, Dr. Asante,” she said, taking the box of medicine and standing up, adjusting Nimbus on her arm. He was very sleepy, purring away. “See you soon, I guess.”
It was only when she turned to leave that he said, “Wait!”
She turned back to see his eyes brimming over with tears. He got up from his desk, his voice hushed but passionate. “I have found something out, Miss Faith.”
“What is it?”
“I cannot say,” he said. “Not until I know what it means. But she was not… she was not who she said she was. I know that much is true.”
Faith’s mind began to race, working out what that could possibly mean. “What? What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” he said, turning away, frustration rising in his voice. “I don’t know.” Then he turned and his voice went quiet. “Just keep your eyes open, Faith. I am sure Becky was murdered. I am sure of it. Maybe by someone who knew her secret. But it is too early to tell.”
Faith sat down again. “Tell me everything, Dr. Asante,” she said.
His face clouded over. “No, I cannot. I do not want to put you in danger.”
“Please.”
His face was in a grimace. “I want to. I want to tell everybody. But not now. I will tell you very soon. But for now, be vigilant. Do not trust anybody, even your good friends. Now, please go.”
“But Dr. Asante—”
He looked up at her with such pain in his big brown eyes, and whispered, “Please. Do not make this harder than it is. I will tell you soon. When I know more.”
Faith knew she could not argue with him. It would have been most disrespectful and inconsiderate. After all, he was the one left to grieve. Even though it was the most frustrating thing ever to do, she walked out of the veterinary office with Nimbus under her arm, and into the waiting room to pay and return Nimbus to his carry case. Her mind bubbled up with a thousand questions as she whipped out her debit card.
Don’t trust your good friends? Was he getting at something specific? Dr. Asante didn’t know about Nathan, so he was either talking about Laura, or perhaps Krystle? There was no way Laura had anything to do with it, so he couldn’t have been referring to her. Did Dr. Asante really mean to suggest that Krystle was somehow involved in Becky’s killing? It seemed rather farfetched.
Then a thought hit Faith like a bolt out of the blue. What if… She felt uncomfortable even thinking it, but forced herself to. What if… Dr. Asante was behind it? Maybe he was telling Faith to investigate so that he would look innocent? Maybe everything he’d just said was a lie to throw her off the scent?
But then, what did he stand to gain from Becky’s death? As Faith typed in her PIN, she bit her lip. Was there any reason Dr. Asante might have killed her? After all, she’d heard that most murders were committed by partners or spouses.
“Thank you,” Faith said to the receptionist, taking back her card. Then she bent down to stroke Nimbus through the bars of the carry case. “You gonna be okay in there, Nim?” she said.
He gave a little happy mew and she took that to be a yes. So she lifted the case and made her way out. It was quite a long way to walk back to the apartment, but she figured she’d catch a bus if there was one on the way.
She also got to thinking about a van. The night previous, as they’d been tucking into their Indian feast, Nathan had torn off a piece of naan and said, “I need a van or something. The ranch is so far away, and my uncle has another job on, so he can’t come with me.”
Since Faith and Laura needed to get over to the ranch on a regular basis, too, and they wouldn’t always be able to rely on Krystle, they’d decided it would make sense for them to invest in a van to share.
“Just a cheap one, mind,” Faith had said. Though the accounts were now out of the red mess they’d been in when Grandma Bessie had been in charge, they were by no means rich. “I don’t want you getting any visions of bright shiny pick up trucks straight out the showroom.”
Nathan had winked. “Not yet.”
*****
Since the tearoom was mostly empty, with just a couple tables occupied and all of them already served, Laura and Faith had a bit of time to do some van searching.
“YouFlip, YouFlip, YouFlip,” Laura said, tapping on her iPhone and waiting for the page to load. She’d promised Faith it was the best website ever when it came to dealing locally, whether you were buying, selling, employing, or looking for work. From apartments to admin vacancies, from pushbikes to pots and pans, they had everything, Laura had said. “Now, let’s see who’s selling vans.”
Faith peered over her shoulder. “Pets?” she said, pointing to one of the links on screen.
“Oh yeah,” Laura said, smiling. “I go on there sometimes when I get bored. You can see like little puppies and kittens and sometimes even baby monkeys. It’s so cute.”
“Aw, let’s see!” Faith said. “Just quick.”
Laura cast a quick glance around the tearoom, then hit Pets, still smiling. “Aww! Look at those Labrador puppies! I want one so bad.”
She passed the phone to Faith, showing her the most adorable picture. Three tiny golden dogs with the biggest black eyes and cutest little faces were squashed up next to each other quite happily in a little dog basket. “Oh!” Faith said. “They are so cute.” In truth, she definitely had more of a soft spot for cats. But she did still love dogs, too, especially when they were so small and sweet.
She scrolled down, having a look if any cats were for sale. Not that she’d have bought any – her family of three was the perfect size – but just to see what was available.
“$30,000!” Faith’s jaw dropped as she saw the price tag next to a rather unusual looking cat, larger than most. “No, that can’t be right. They must have meant $300, and left out the decimal point. That’s crazy.”
“Let me see.” Laura took the phone and clicked on the picture, which took them into the description page. “Wow. I think it is right, you know. Listen. Extremely rare Caracal cat, a cross between a wild Caracal and domesticated Abyssinian. For full details on pedigree, or for more information, please contact Dr. Asante on—”
“Dr. Asante!” Faith said. She looked at the picture of the rare cat, her brain running into overdrive. “This must be Becky’s cat!”
“Oh, yeah,” Laura said with a shrug. “She complained that he couldn’t sell it.”
Or maybe, Faith thought, the cat is the motive. That would certainly be a reason for him to kill Becky.
The theory started to flesh itself out in her head: Becky had entrusted Dr. Asante with selling her cat. But he wanted the money for himself. Maybe his practice wasn’t doing so well. Maybe he was in debt. Whatever the case was, he decided that he wanted to keep the money. So he pushed her off the boat when no one else was looking and the music was playing, making sure to hit her on the head first, so that she wouldn’t be able to swim. Then he pretended to be frantic looking for her, and frantic investigating who killed her, to cover his tracks.
Maybe you’re the reason for all of this, Faith thought, looking down at the picture of the cat. Just maybe.
*****
Chapter 8
The mechanic they’d hired to check out the van gave them a big thumbs up.
“We’ll take it,” Faith said with a big smile, turning to the car salesman. Strangely he hadn’t been the pushy motormouth Faith had psyched herself up to dealing with. In fact, he seemed rather disinterested as soon as they’d arrived, and he kept looking back over to the street, even when they asked him questions.
“He’s only interested in the big fat commission check he’ll get if he flips a Lexus,” Nathan leaned in to whisper in Faith’s ear. As he did, Faith couldn’t help but notice he was wearing cologne that day. He never used to, but ever since they’d been somewhat of an item, she always noticed that he had a fresh-sweet-woody scent that put her in mind of great sweeping landscapes filled with forest and lake and adventure. She’d never really been a fan of cologne, bu
t she liked it on Nathan.
They all went into the office so Faith could sign the check and sort out the paperwork – they were putting the van in the business name, Slice of Paradise Tearoom Ltd – and before long they were on the road, Nathan at the wheel.
“Sure this baby isn’t too much to handle for you?” Faith teased him.
Laura laughed. “She sure is a big girl.”
It was true. Their new 1999 Chevy Express Cargo had three spacious seats across the front and a practically cavernous storage space in back. They knew they’d need a lot on the day of the open air Shakespeare, with all of them carrying down their stuff together. Besides, who knew what jobs they’d get in the future?
“Naw.” Nathan draped his hand over the wheel. “I’m fully in control. You ladies just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“He says, before he drives us right into a lamppost,” Laura said, rolling her eyes. “Just how many tickets did you have on your old car, Nathan?”
He grinned. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a new man now.” He turned to them. “Just you watch, I won’t get in a single—”
“Nathan!” Faith hollered.
Nathan gasped as he looked forward, then slammed down the brakes. A car in front had come to a stop in front of a red light. Thanks to Faith, Nathan had braked just in time. “Oops,” he said sheepishly. “Let’s pretend that never happened.”
Laura rubbed the back of her neck. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“So,” Faith said. “Van down. New employee to go.”
When Laura had found out just how much Graeme and Danica Trigg were willing to pay for the catering, she’d eaten her words about giving up the job. “It has to be someone we know, though,” she said. “Maybe Stephanie?” Stephanie was the daughter of Tonya, the lady with thousands of teeny tiny braids who ran the successful pancake house nestled in the thick tropical foliage of Paradise Point.
“If you can persuade Tonya to give her up for the day,” Faith said.
“I’ll try.” Laura was already getting her iPhone out. “They have so many staff up there I’m not sure they’ll miss her all that much. Anyways, she’s the only person I’d trust to be competent enough to manage without us.”
“Well, all right,” Faith said. “But you’re going to have to get used to someone else working with us, especially if you’re going back to college in September like you said.”
Nathan rocked back at the wheel, surprised. “You’re going back to college?”
Laura made big eyes at Faith. “I hadn’t exactly told my family yet.” She put the phone up to her ear.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” Faith said. She knew that Laura’s dreams were close to her heart, but she hadn’t realized they were so hush hush. In any spare moment they had in the café, Laura always read books Faith found depressing, about kids with difficult lives. But Laura found them deeply moving, and inspirational too. Her eyes lit up and her whole aura seemed to sparkle with life when she spoke about helping kids like that. She wanted to go back to school to train to work in Special Education, with challenging kids with emotional and behavioral issues.
When Faith had quipped, “Brats, basically,” as an offhand joke, she’d gotten an earful.
And Laura’s passion in telling her that these kids couldn’t regulate their feelings or actions themselves, and needed to be taught the skills and frameworks to do it in, actually persuaded Faith.
So Faith was fully behind her decision to go back to school. Laura was trying to find a part time course so she could still work at Slice of Paradise. And she’d promised she’d still work weekends, even though Faith had insisted she had to have at least one day off.
“She’ll do it,” Laura said, coming off the phone. “She said not to make it a regular thing, but if it’s just for this contract, her mom can spare her.”
“Great,” Faith said with a big sigh of relief. “So back to my place? The kitties will be lonely now, I bet.” The afternoon sun had turned golden and was throwing long shadows everywhere.
“Sounds good to me,” Laura said. “But no takeout tonight, or I’ll be the size of a house. What about a chicken stir fry?”
Nathan grinned. “As long as you’re making it.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a given,” Laura said. “You’d get confused boiling water.”
Faith was trying to get everything straightened out in her head before she mentally shut down for the night. That evening was going to be devoted to a nice glass of wine, chicken stir fry and maybe a good book. Strictly no business thinking. Murder was another matter – she couldn’t stop thinking of that. “So Stephanie will be taking care of everything tomorrow while we go down to the ranch, right?”
“Yep,” Laura said. “And we can all go down together in our shiny new van.”
Faith spluttered. “Shiny? More like dented within an inch of its life.”
Laura flicked her hand. “At least let me pretend to be glamorous, Faith!”
*****
“Um… Mrs. Trigg? Danica?” Faith stepped into the kitchen of the mansion, all shining marble and gleaming gold detailing, with white units. It really was a lovely kitchen, though Faith preferred something a little more homey and rustic. “Mrs. Trigg?”
Danica had not been in the best of moods that morning, it had been easy to tell. Though she was kind and sweet to them, as she always was, her eyes kept darting away from them, and she kept wringing the dishcloth she had in her hands over and over. Then when she turned away, Faith was sure she saw a flash of uncharacteristic anger in her eyes. It seemed there was trouble in Shakespearean paradise, and Faith wouldn’t have even bothered Danica. It was just that she’d tasked them with matching the food to the landscaping – a task that required a whole bunch of lateral thinking – and they’d forgotten to ask what type of rosebushes she wanted and where. She had gushed about them to Nathan, but he’d had so much to think about that it had slipped his mind to ask exactly what she wanted. Faith had offered to go ask since Nathan was preoccupied with taking soil samples, and Laura was flicking through one of the recipe books they’d brought along in search for ideas.
Faith had called out quite loudly, but there was classical music playing from a stereo in another room, and it obviously drowned her out. She hovered at the doorway, not knowing quite what to do. On one hand, it was obviously rude to shout any louder – it would be a full blown holler in her new client’s house. But on the other, it was also rude to venture further into the mansion without being invited. She didn’t want to turn back, either. The grounds were large and it had been a long, hot walk across the grass in the midday sun, and she didn’t fancy having to go back and then do it all over again. So she decided to wait for a moment, standing politely in the doorway.
“It’s not my fault how much costumes cost!” someone roared over the lull in the classical music. Faith was pretty sure it was Graeme.
“They didn’t cost that much last year, did they?” Danica screamed back. Faith was surprised at that. Kind, mild mannered Danica, screaming like a banshee. “Are you sure… are you sure…?”
“Am I sure what, Danica? Go on, say it!”
“Are you sure you were paying for costumes?” Danica said loudly. Then her voice went quiet, and the only thing Faith heard again was, “whore!”
Faith swallowed and made a quick exit, wishing she’d left sooner. She puffed out a breath as she hurried across the lawn. So they had a wonderful mansion, a garden to die for, a ranch full of horses and cows. But you never knew what lurked under the surface.
She turned the corner, ready to tell Nathan and Laura that roses were a no-go for now, when she saw Yale sitting by them under the shade of the large yew tree, and they were all laughing. A big smile spread across her face when she saw how Laura’s eyes were bright and her body was angled toward Yale. Maybe she could convince her there was a better guy out there for her than the stuffy Deputy Sheriff.
“Yale!” Faith called out. “I see you’ve met my friends. Na
than, and Laura.”
“Yep, I certainly have,” Yale said, and his glance at Laura that lingered a little longer than it had to told Faith everything she needed to know.
“Laura was just complaining that our van was a little rustic,” Nathan said. “So she asked Yale what he drove. Then he said ‘mostly cattle’ and her face! Seriously Faith, it was a classic.”
Yale looked at Laura intently. “Then I offered her a ride on the horse and she said she’d think about it.”
“I’ve never gone horseback riding before,” Laura said, looking at him just as intently and tucking a loose wisp of her blonde hair behind her ear. “But I’d like to.”
“We can go now, if you want,” he said, like it was just the two of them in the world. “She had a little problem with her hoof, but Dr. Asante is fixing it, so we’re okay.”
And just like that, all the tender, warm feelings Faith was getting watching her best friend and a handsome guy get it together, just evaporated into nothingness. A churning sensation in her gut caught her off guard. “Talking about Dr. Asante…”
Everyone looked at her.
“Yeah?” Nathan said.
She didn’t want to voice her theory out loud, especially not with Yale there. If she was wrong, the results could be catastrophic. So instead she said, “Well, I’m just thinking about everything that happened to Becky. And Dr. Asante asked me to keep my eyes peeled for anything. He was sure she was murdered. But I feel like I don’t know anything.”
“Well, if she really was murdered,” Laura said, “we do know a couple of things. That it was one of the people on the boat. So that’s you or me, which it obviously isn’t. The driver of the boat, which it can’t have been because he was on the top deck the whole time.”
“Right,” Faith said. “So that leaves Dr. Asante, Krystle, Graeme…”
The Cheesecake Fake: A Culinary Cozy Mystery Set In Sunny Florida (Slice of Paradise Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 5
