Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 04 - Chocolate Mousse Attack

by Sally Berneathy

  “I don’t anticipate that the good doctor will confess immediately. I simply plan to stir him up to the point he’s going to feel the need to kill Sophie.”

  He wasn’t smiling. He was serious. “Oh, well, of course. What a great idea.”

  “I thought it was.”

  My phone began to play Out of a Blue Clear Sky. I ignored it.

  “I’m being sarcastic!” I said. “Are you out of your mind? He’s already tried to kill her once!”

  “But this time she’ll be safe at your house with Trent there to protect her and I’ll be waiting for him at Sophie’s place. It’ll be me he’ll try to kill, and that’s not likely to happen.”

  “You’re going to pretend to be Sophie? You don’t think he’ll notice that you’re, among other things, a guy?”

  “I have a long brown wig.”

  That was an image I didn’t even want to think about. “How are you going to deal with being a foot taller than her?”

  “He hasn’t seen her up close since she was five years old. We need to table this discussion for later. We’re going to be there soon and we haven’t even talked about your role in tonight’s entertainment.”

  We were driving through a quiet, opulent area with mature trees, lush green lawns and large homes of indeterminate age, set well back from the street. My mother probably did lunch with half the wives in the area.

  “Okay, so who am I going to be this evening? Dr. Dan has already met me as a moldy expert.”

  “It’s not so much who you are as how you’re going to act. You need to attempt to restrain me, keep me from talking to him and saying too much.”

  “The Big Mouth of the Midwest is going to try to keep The Enigmatic Man from saying too much? This should be very entertaining.”

  “I am extremely angry about the damage to my car.”

  “I understand.”

  “I am going to express my anger to the doctor and make accusations.”

  “Fred, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you don’t do anger convincingly.”

  “That’s his house on the corner.”

  A sprawling, ranch-style red brick house with a circle drive. Dr. Dan had come a long way from the farm with chickens in the front yard and clothes hanging on the line to dry.

  Fred drove up and parked. “Showtime.”

  He got out of the car and strode boldly to the door. I followed, attempting to match his swagger at first, then wimping out and standing sort of behind him. My mother knew these people. What if she’d showed them pictures of me? Of course, that wasn’t likely. I refused to go to Glamor Shots, and she refused to show her friends pictures of me in blue jeans and bare feet with flour on my face.

  He rang the doorbell.

  The door opened and the blond woman from the photographs on Dr. Dan’s desk appeared. Except for her hair style, she looked the same as in the pictures when the children were small. Dr. Dan was good at what he did.

  “Dr. Fred Sommers to see your husband.”

  “I’ll tell him. Would you like to come in?”

  “No.”

  Mrs. Jamison blinked rapidly. Fred wasn’t following the protocol. She’d invited him into her home and he’d refused.

  “I’ll get Daniel.” She turned and went back into the house, closing the door behind her.

  “How to win friends,” I said.

  “I’m not trying to make friends. I’m trying to make an enemy.”

  “In that case, good job.”

  The door opened again and Dr. Dan stood there wearing shorts and a knit shirt. He didn’t appear nearly as impressive as he had sitting behind his desk wearing a white jacket. He did, however, have the haughty look of an important man who’d just been disturbed. “I remember you two. You came to my office about some mold in an old house. I thought we settled all that. What do you want?”

  “Judging by what just happened to my car, you already know that business about the mold was a lie. This woman isn’t a mold expert. She’s a special consultant to the Pleasant Grove Police Department, and I’m somebody you don’t want to mess with. I don’t care about any damn mold. I care about my car.” Fred swept an arm toward his damaged Mercedes. He’d used a swear word. He wasn’t shouting, but his voice was harsh and angry. If he spoke to me that way, I’d cry. “Do you see what happened to my car?” he demanded. “That vehicle managed to stay in perfect condition for over thirty years and now look at it. It’ll never be the same.”

  Dr. Jamison tried to maintain his haughty look, but fear was rapidly encroaching. “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything to your car.”

  Fred folded his arms and looked formidable. “Of course you didn’t do it yourself. You hired somebody. You wouldn’t want to get those country club hands dirty like in the old days when you lived on a farm and wore homemade clothes and had goats and chickens in your yard.”

  I didn’t recall seeing any goats, but that one seemed to hit home anyway. Dr. Dan drew himself up to his full height which was still a couple of inches shorter than Fred. “You need to leave.” He turned as if to go back inside the house.

  “I got the license number. That truck’s registered to Kenneth Murdock, a known drug dealer who’s skated on three arrests.”

  Dr. Dan hesitated.

  Fred jabbed me with his elbow. I’d been so fascinated with this unknown side of him, I’d forgotten my role.

  I grabbed his arm. “Dr. Sommers, we need to leave.”

  “I’m betting I’ll find out your brother is Kenneth Murdock’s lawyer. Did you get him to do a family favor? Does your brother know what you did?”

  Dr. Dan turned back toward us, his face pale, his nostrils pinched, his eyes bulging. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’m going to call the police.”

  I tugged at Fred’s arm. “Dr. Sommers, let’s go.”

  He yanked his arm away from me. “Why don’t you do that, Jamison? Why don’t you call the police? They’re going to be calling on you soon enough. I don’t know if you were trying to scare me or kill me, but stopping me isn’t going to keep you out of prison. Sophie goes in tomorrow to look at pictures. She’ll identify you as Carolyn’s killer, as the man who said I’m sorry after he murdered his daughter and the woman who loved him.”

  Clever, I thought. Tell the man the one small detail then let him assume she remembered the rest.

  I would have sworn Dr. Dan couldn’t get any paler, but he did. Even with my redhead’s skin, I probably looked like George Hamilton in comparison. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

  “What’s your wife going to say when she finds out about Sarah and the money you gave her parents to keep their mouths shut? Or does your wife already know? Was she part of it? Was she happy to help you get rid of your mistress and your child?”

  “Dr. Sommers,” I protested, again tugging on his arm, “this is police business. You shouldn’t be telling him.”

  “Why not? He’ll find out soon enough.” He got closer, almost nose to nose with Jamison. “I found blood in my floorboards, blood from your daughter. Sophie’s testimony will be enough to get a warrant to compel you to give your DNA. We’re going to prove that Carolyn was your daughter, that she and Sarah existed and that you killed them. You’re going down for a lot more than hiring someone to damage my car.”

  “Oh, Dr. Sommers, what have you done? He’ll run away and hide and we’ll never be able to convict him.” Yes, it was pretty corny, but I didn’t have a lot of time to write and rehearse my lines.

  He shrugged off my arm. “He can’t hide. I’ll find him wherever he goes. It’s bad enough you killed your own daughter and her mother, but now you’ve messed with my car.” He pointed a finger at Dr. Dan who flinched as if Fred had hit him. “You’re going down. You’re going down all the way.” Fred turned and strode back to his car.

  I followed.

  As we pulled slowly away from the red brick ranch, Dr. Dan stood on his front porch watching us. Even in the fading ligh
t of the afternoon, I fancied I could see the sheen of sweat on his face.

  Fred, on the other hand, was calm and unhurried as always.

  “I think you wound him up pretty good,” I said. “That was impressive.”

  “It’s our best chance since everything we have is circumstantial. Now we wait for him to go after Sophie. If he doesn’t confess, we may never get him for murdering Carolyn and Sarah, but we should be able to get him for Sophie’s attempted murder.”

  “You mean the attempted murder of Fred in a wig. That’s really dumb, you know. Let me wear the wig, put on some makeup and we’ll have a lot better chance.”

  He shook his head. “Baiting a murderer is dangerous.”

  I snorted derisively. At least, I hoped it was derisive and not just disgusting. “When Paula’s crazy ex-husband was determined to kill me I got a confession out of him and I’m still alive.” But it had been close. That was the first time I’d seen Fred in action. “If things get dicey, you can charge in at the last minute and take him down the same way you took down David. Though I wouldn’t mind if you made it the next to last minute instead of the last minute.”

  He didn’t say anything which was better than a refusal.

  “I’ll make your favorite chocolate chip cookies.”

  “You’ll make those anyway.”

  If bribery doesn’t work, try threats. “I’ll hurt your car.” He’d seemed genuinely upset that his formerly pristine car had been damaged.

  He laughed. “When I bought this car, it had been totaled. I’ll just get the same guy who fixed it for me the first time to take care of any damage.”

  I smacked him on the arm. “You totally lied to Dr. Dan!”

  “It was a performance, and apparently a good one if it fooled you after I told you what we were going to do.”

  I shrugged. “That’s no great feat. I’m pretty gullible.”

  It was getting dark when we pulled into Fred’s driveway, but in the moonlight I could see Trent walking up my sidewalk to my front door. Mr. Macho Cop would be horrified if anyone ever referred to him as beautiful, but that was the first word that came to my mind…one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen.

  I slid out of Fred’s car and raced over to him, throwing myself into his arms and burying my face against his chest.

  He pulled me close and held me tightly. “So you weren’t scared at all when the truck tried to run you down?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a little bit?”

  “No.” I leaned back and looked up at him. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Good evening, Trent. Glad you could make it.”

  I moved out of Trent’s arms and turned to see Fred approaching.

  “What’s the game plan for tonight?” Trent asked.

  “I’m going to wear a wig and pretend to be Sophie,” I said.

  “No, you’re not,” Fred and Trent said in unison. Cute.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Excuse me? Since when did I give either of you my power of attorney to make my decisions?”

  Yeah, my comment made no sense, but it caused both of them to stop and think. It gave me a minute to figure out my tactics.

  “So,” I said, “you plan to put on a wig and sit in Sophie’s house waiting for Dr. Dan to show up and turn on the gas?”

  Fred nodded. “Yes.”

  “He’s not an accomplished criminal, you know. He got into her house last time because she left the door open.”

  “I thought of that. I plan to leave the front door unlocked.”

  I snorted. “He’s going to hang around waiting for Sophie to run across the street to your house so he can slip inside like last time. There’s only one way to make this look realistic. I pretend to be Sophie, run out of the house and over to your place to give him a chance to get inside, then you escort me back only this time you don’t leave. Dr. Dan will be inside, and you can wait outside with one of your fancy recording devices until you get enough to convict him, then rush in and save me at the next to last minute.”

  Fred and Trent looked at each other. Trent shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I did just fine getting a confession out of David Bennett and you waited patiently outside the whole time.”

  “That was different. I didn’t really know you then. You weren’t…we weren’t…”

  “Lindsay, why don’t you go inside and see if Rickie’s totally destroyed your place while I talk to Trent.”

  “I’ll go in and pack my overnight bag,” I said.

  Sophie opened the door as soon as I stepped onto the porch. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said, concern etched on her features.

  Behind her the television was playing, but it wasn’t blaring. My first thought was that Rickie had run away from home.

  However, as I moved inside, I saw him sitting quietly on the sofa, drinking a Coke.

  Sophie closed the door behind me and went over to sit beside him. “Rickie told me about the trip to see those people and about the scary truck.” She smiled and brushed his hair off his forehead. It sprang right back.

  He smiled up at her. “I was scared.”

  I sighed. He was practicing his scam artist skills on Sophie, and she was totally falling for it.

  “How many Cokes has it taken to make you feel secure?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Three or four.”

  I went to the refrigerator and got a soda while there were still some left then took a seat in my arm chair. “Here’s the game plan,” I said. “Fred antagonized Dr. Dan. Told him you’ve recovered the memory of Carolyn’s death and you’re going in tomorrow to identify him so they can issue a warrant to get his DNA and compare it to the blood Fred found in his floorboards.”

  Sophie gasped. “He found blood? Carolyn’s blood?”

  “No, he made up that part, a fictitious presentation of data.”

  “Oh.”

  “So you’re going to spend the night here with Rickie and Trent, and I’m going to your house to pretend to be you, pretend to sleepwalk to Fred’s and leave the house unlocked, then when Dr. Dan comes to kill you, we’ll get his confession. Worst case scenario, we take him down for trying to kill you.”

  Sophie sat upright, shaking her head vigorously. “No, I can’t let you do that! That’s dangerous. I’ll do it. Fred will be there.”

  “Yes, Fred will be there, so it won’t be dangerous for either of us, but I have skills you don’t.”

  She sat on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear about those skills.

  “Do you know karate?” I asked her. “Ju-jitsu? Kung-foolery?”

  Her eyes widened and she sat back again. “I had no idea you knew all those martial arts.”

  “I don’t like to brag.” Of course I knew nothing about karate and ju-jitsu. I never said I did. I simply asked if she did. As for kung-foolery, maybe I did know something about that.

  Trent came in the front door. “All right,” he said, “you get to play the part of Sophie but only if you maintain an open line to me on your cell phone the entire time.”

  I was very curious as to what Fred told him that changed his mind. Perhaps it was a clue to Fred’s true identity. But he wasn’t likely to tell me with so many people around. I’d ask him when we were alone and he was vulnerable.

  “Where’s Uncle Fred?” Rickie asked.

  “He went home to get ready for tonight,” Trent replied.

  “And you have to do your part,” I added. “Sophie’s going to spend the night here and you’re going to stay with her and take care of her.”

  Trent looked startled but Rickie looked solemn. “I can do that.”

  Sophie smiled and put her arm around his shoulders, pulling his head close to hers. She’d probably get lice.

  I ran upstairs to grab a toothbrush and other toiletries. Henry looked up from where he lay warming my bed and gave an inquisitive “meow?”

  “Sorry,” I said, “but you’re
on your own tonight. Stay in here and you should be safe. Sophie’s coming up later to sleep with you.”

  I made him move while I put clean sheets on the bed. He resumed his place immediately and I raced back downstairs. Fred was waiting in the living room. He handed me a brown wig in a style very similar to Sophie’s.

  “You can’t wear those clothes,” he said. “Jamison saw you wearing those. Change into a white blouse and khaki shorts so you’ll look like her. He could already be waiting and watching.”

  I took the wig then went back upstairs to change from my T-shirt and cutoffs to the requested costume. I was glad Sophie wasn’t wearing a ball gown and four-inch heels.

  I stood in front of my cheval mirror and donned the brown wig. Hiding all my red curls wasn’t easy, but I’d done it before when I’d worn the blond wig. I added some makeup and checked myself in the mirror. Not exactly a Sophie clone, but for somebody who hadn’t seen her up close in over twenty years, I could probably pass.

  I hurried back to the kitchen where I grabbed a six-pack of Cokes and the leftover half of a Triple Chocolate Mousse Cake. I set the cake in my iron skillet and took both with me. Sure, I trusted Fred and Trent to take care of me, but it never hurts to have a little backup.

  “My gowns are in the second dresser drawer,” Sophie said.

  “My night shirts are in my top dresser drawer.” She was probably going to have quite a culture shock.

  I gave Trent a kiss and grabbed my purse from the coffee table. Fred took the Cokes from me, and he and I went out the door.

  “Call me as soon as you get there,” Trent called after me.

  “Walk slowly,” Fred directed as we crossed the street. “There’s more to this impersonation business than just a wig and khaki shorts.”

  I slowed my pace and looked up and down the street for any suspicious activity. It was completely dark. The moon hadn’t risen yet, and the only streetlight was up the street. Well, there’s one directly in front of my house but somebody shot it out with a BB gun a couple of years ago and nobody’s replaced the bulb yet. If anybody ever does, I’ll shoot it out again. Damn thing shone right in my bedroom window.