Candy Canes & Corpses

by Abby L. Vandiver

  Running over to the door, DeeDee opened it and yelled out to Jake, who was walking down the steps of the porch, his hands in his pockets, and his head hunched down. “Hey, Jake, you forgot something.”

  Pulling the ring off her finger, she threw the gold and diamond band at his back. Standing in the doorway, DeeDee gasped as she watched the ring fly over his head and onto the grass in the darkness beyond.

  Jake never looked back. He just kept walking, got into his battered old jeep, and drove away.

  Chapter Two

  Sonia McNulty slid into the red leatherette diner booth seat as demurely as her tight pencil skirt would allow, and flicked some crumbs off the sticky tabletop. “You really do take me to all the best places in town, Bruce,” she snarled at her companion.

  Bruce Tarbert, Sonia’s agent, looked across the table at her over the top of the plastic-coated menu he was holding several inches from his face. “You’re late, Sonia. The special’s Chicken a la King, if you’re interested.”

  “I’m not.”

  Sonia looked at the menu. A waitress loudly chewing gum appeared at the end of the booth and was tapping her notepad with her pen.

  “You go first,” Sonia muttered to Bruce. Her frown was invisible due to the amount of Botox that had been injected into her forehead by her plastic surgeon. The words on the menu were swimming in front of her eyes. “I can’t understand this.”

  “It’s not in Japanese, is it?” Bruce said before giving his order to the impatient waitress. When he was done, the two of them stared at Sonia, who began to hyperventilate.

  “Do you have a Skinny menu?” she asked the waitress when she’d caught her breath.

  The waitress looked at her like she’d just landed on the planet earth from Mars and had two heads.

  “Whatever,” Sonia sighed. “I guess I’ll have a double cheeseburger, with crispy bacon, an extra pickle, with an order of French fries and onion rings on the side.” Sonia paused, glancing at the menu again. “Oh, and an Oreo Cookie Fantasy milkshake, and a slice of Mississippi Mud Pie, heavy on the whipped cream.” She figured she may as well enjoy her meal, before purging later.

  When the waitress had left, Bruce gave her a quizzical look. “Have you taken your medication today?”

  Sonia sneered at him. “Don’t act so concerned, Bruce. If you really cared about me, we wouldn’t even be sitting here. I should be spending the holidays with my family and loved ones.”

  Sonia suspected he knew she didn’t have any close family or loved ones, but at least he didn’t point it out to her. Her downtown Seattle condo may have been a showplace for fabulous furnishings, the latest gadgets, her walk-in closet full of designer clothes, and more red-soled Christian Louboutin shoes than she cared to count, but there was no one waiting for her when she got home.

  “Let’s cut to the chase,” she went on, without giving him a chance to reply. “My contract with the television station expires a week from now, and they still haven’t renewed. What’s the latest offer?”

  Bruce took a piece of paper from the pocket of his shiny suit jacket and slid it across the table. Sonia opened it and laughed hollowly. She mashed the paper into a ball and let it fall onto the tabletop.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me? That’s an insult.”

  Bruce tore open a pink packet of sweetener and poured it into the coffee the waitress had just set on the table with a splash. “It’s a good offer,” he said carefully, adding a packet of creamer. He stirred the coffee and wiped the spill caused by the waitress with some napkins from the metal dispenser on the table before staring back at Sonia. “It’s not great, but it’s not too shabby either. I think it’s the best you’re going to get, Sonia. Don’t be too quick to reject it in case it backfires on you.”

  The one thing Sonia knew about Bruce, her agent of ten years, was that he didn’t play games. He called a spade a spade and had always been straight with her about pay negotiation tactics. If Bruce was telling her to take the offer, she was ready to listen. He knew when his 10% cut of an offer she wasn’t impressed by was better than 10% of nothing.

  Sonia stirred her straw around in the milkshake. “You don’t think we can get them to go any higher, Bruce? I’m going to be on skid row January 1st, if I don’t renew in the next week. The only reason I’ve stayed at the station this long is because I thought Dana Donnelly would have retired by now. Goodness knows she’s so rich she can afford to.”

  Bruce’s eyes followed a pretty blond seated at a nearby table. Sonia recognized her as being an intern at the television station, who was angling for the regional weather presenter position. Much like herself twenty years earlier, the intern had been sleeping with all the right people to make sure she got the position she wanted. The problem, as Sonia had found out, was when someone else had already slept with all of the same people before you, and had beat you to the top entertainment presenter slot.

  Turning back to his client, Bruce spoke up. “Dana isn’t going anywhere, Sonia. She’s at the top of her game. The viewers love her, and the station’s ratings have never been higher. You can bet Dana’s going to milk that for as long as she can, and who can blame her. Besides, from what I’ve been hearing, she’s not as rich as you may think. In fact, she’s far from it.”

  Sonia’s ears perked up, “Really?” Any dirt she could pick up on Dana was music to her ears. Bruce didn’t make careless comments like the one he’d just made unless there was some truth to what he was saying, but she’d be surprised if he said any more about it. Bruce could be very close-mouthed when he felt it was in his best interest to do so.

  Bruce paused while their food was being served. “Let’s just say Dana’s downsizing. She and her husband have a big party coming up at their place on New Year’s Eve. From what I hear, it’s going to be the last bash at their huge pad on Bainbridge Island, which has quietly been on the market for some time.”

  “Oh, right,” Sonia said casually, hoping to wangle more information out of Bruce. “Are they buying some place nearby? With four kids, that won’t come cheap either.”

  Bruce grabbed a large handful of fries and dipped them in the pool of ketchup he’d squeezed into the corner of the red plastic basket they were served in. He pushed them into his mouth, the sound of his chewing grating on Sonia’s nerves. She couldn’t wait to get out of the cheap restaurant, so she could shower, change clothes, and get the smell of fried food off of her.

  Bruce wiped some ketchup from his mouth with a paper napkin. “They’re going to be renting, if you must know.” He tapped his nose with his forefinger. “That’s all I’m saying on the matter, so stop fishing, Sonia, but believe me when I tell you that Dana won’t be leaving the station any time soon.”

  Sonia believed him all right. This meeting wasn’t turning out the way she’d planned it at all. She crammed a huge bite of her burger into her mouth, and didn’t care at all if there was oily cheese dripping down her chin. She kept eating until the mountain of food evaporated before her, and when she was done she looked around the table in surprise. Seemingly confused, she asked Bruce, “Did I eat all that?” The cocktail of pills she’d taken earlier was obviously wearing off.

  “Sugar high,” Bruce muttered, signaling to the waitress to bring more coffee.

  Sonia rummaged in her purse before stuffing a handful of tablets into her mouth, washing them down with a gulp of her warm milkshake. “I don’t understand why Dana’s so popular,” she said to Bruce. “She’s a mess. She’s old, overweight, and from what I can tell, she hasn’t had any work done on her face or her body. Her favorite pastime seems to be posing for paparazzi shots of her stumbling out of bars with different men on her arm. All I can say is that I feel sorry for her poor husband and children.”

  Sonia had regained her composure, and pulled a gold-colored compact out of her purse. Observing herself in its mirror, she smoothed the immaculate blond waves of her hair and fixed her makeup, reapplying what she considered a flattering plumping lip gloss that
gave her mouth a bee-stung look.

  “Sonia, no one’s denying how great you look. But Dana...well, Dana’s got something different. Dana’s special.”

  “How so?” Sonia smiled sweetly while she disguised her urge to punch Bruce in the mouth.

  Bruce continued in a thoughtful manner, “Let me give you a tip,” he said to Sonia at last. “Just be yourself. That’s what people like about Dana. People can relate to her. She’s everyone’s big sister, the forty-something woman next door. She gets caught with her hair in curlers and doesn’t seem to care if she’s caught with lipstick on her teeth.” He gave Sonia a pointed look.

  Sonia self-consciously ran her tongue across her snow-white porcelain dental veneers.

  Bruce was on a roll. “Dana’s naturally pretty, but not threateningly so,” he continued, “and she’s the first to laugh when things go wrong.”

  Sonia couldn’t see anything funny about the situation she found herself in at that moment. “I hear you, Bruce, loud and clear. You’re telling me as long as Dana Donnelly is at the television station, I don’t have any hope of a better offer than the crummy deal you dragged me here today to tell me about. Is that it?”

  “That pretty much sums it up,” Bruce said. “Unless something happens to change Dana’s status between now and January 1st, which is unlikely, my advice to you is to accept the offer or start looking for another job.”

  “I see,” Sonia said, her face turning sullen. “It’s a pity I don’t have rich family connections like she has. Everyone knows Dana’s father pulled strings with his golf buddies to get her that job in the first place. That and the casting couch, of course,” she snidely added. “All that may be true,” Bruce said, waving to the waitress for the check, “but neither of those factors have kept Dana where she is today. No matter how she got the position, she’s stayed there on her own merit.”

  Sonia pouted. “I disagree. I’m sure the bedfellows she flaunts on her social media pages have something to do with it. I’ve had my share of high-profile lovers too, but I don’t parade them online.”

  “Perhaps you should,” Bruce retorted, handing the waitress his credit card. “You do realize the photos are all part of Dana’s carefully orchestrated media campaign? Taking a barefoot moonlight stroll with Brad Pitt, and having a photographer trailing you, doesn’t happen by accident.”

  Sonia saw the blond intern looking their way. Bruce smiled over at the young woman, and as he got up to leave he nodded to Sonia. “I suggest we keep the station waiting for your answer until the last minute. You never know, they may have a change of heart. No harm keeping them guessing that you might have a better offer.”

  Sonia watched as the intern began walking toward the exit, probably to bump into Bruce accidentally on purpose outside. Somewhere in her brain fog of Xanax for anxiety and Adderall to bring her mood back up again, the bones of a plan were taking shape in her befuddled mind. “Good idea, Bruce,” she said, smiling innocently at him. “I’ll call you January 1st with my answer.”

  Bruce had already turned away and was heading toward the door. “Great,” she heard him mutter, as he sauntered off in pursuit of the intern.

  Sonia ran her finger across her dessert plate and licked off the last traces of whipped cream. She still hadn’t replied to the invitation to Dana’s New Year’s Eve party that was sitting on the hallway table at home, but she’d just decided that she’d definitely be attending it. She smiled and moved along the seat to the edge of the booth, breathing in so that her skirt didn’t split when she stood up. She was carrying a rather large food baby, courtesy of the lunch she’d just eaten.

  Smoothing her skirt and practically dancing out the door of the restaurant, Sonia congratulated herself on coming up with the perfect solution to her problems. If things went as intended, Sonia wouldn’t need to make any calls on January 1st. Instead, she knew the executives at the TV station would be calling her, begging her to stay on and take the top spot on the morning show. Finally, she’d get the recognition she deserved, and that Dana had deprived her of for so long. Sonia would be able to name her price. And then she would fire that slime ball Bruce Tarbert.

  Chapter Three

  DeeDee pulled on a pair of jeans and a rumpled shirt and ran a hairbrush through her fine blond hair. It had gotten long again, hitting her shoulders, and she vowed to make an appointment at the local salon as soon as possible to have it cut shorter. Jake had said he liked it longer, and that was part of the reason she’d let it grow.

  No need to please him anymore, she thought, tying it back in a loose ponytail. I was foolish to even consider it.

  She set the hairbrush down on the dresser, and picked up a navy-blue sweater from the nearby chair. Putting her arms in the sleeves and lifting it over her head, she paused mid-air as the familiar scent hit her. The sweater belonged to Jake, and she inhaled the mix of his cologne and laundry powder, before yanking it off and tossing it on top of the box in the corner that contained other items of his that he’d left at her home.

  There was a pair of binoculars he used for bird watching, several operatic CDs, and walking maps for a trip he was planning with his daughter. Jake wasn’t a hoarder, years in the military had insured that, and all of his belongings held a meaning to him. DeeDee fully intended to return everything to him before long, so she could get on with the rest of her life, but her feelings were still too raw to even think about contacting him yet. That and the fact that the local Chief of Police and his deputy were downstairs in her great room waiting for her at that very moment meant returning Jake’s possessions was not her immediate priority.

  DeeDee hurried down the stairs.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Chief Hewson,” she said. The chief and one of his men were standing in front of the large window in the great room looking out at the view of Puget Sound. “Please, take a seat, gentlemen. Can I make you some coffee?”

  Dan Hewson turned towards her with no trace of a smile on his face and said, “If it’s all right with you, we’ll get straight to the questions. We have a lot to get through today, as I’m sure you can appreciate.”

  The two men sat on the sofa, and DeeDee sat in an armchair across from them. “Of course,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. Balto came padding across the room and laid down at her feet. She needed some emotional support at this difficult time, and she was glad to have him at her side. “So, we meet again,” DeeDee said, in a feeble attempt at an ice breaker.

  “Indeed we do,” Dan Hewson said, while the other officer began to write in the notebook he was holding in his hand. DeeDee had met the chief previously when a guest was murdered at the first dinner party she’d catered when her business, Deelish, had opened several months earlier. Not only had she been absolved from any wrongdoing in connection with that incident, but she and Jake had helped solve the murder.

  There you go again DeeDee, she thought. Can’t you go more than a few minutes without thinking about Jake Rogers? Her face flushed and she willed herself to put he-who-should-not-be-mentioned out of her mind.

  “Mrs. Wilson, can you tell us when was the last time you saw Mrs. Donnelly alive last night, and what time you left her home?”

  “It was around 1:00 a.m. when I spoke to Dana in the kitchen,” DeeDee said carefully, trying to remember when she’d looked at her watch. “My assistant, Susie, had left a little earlier, I remember checking the time when I came inside from the garden, and telling her she could go. I’m sure Susie can confirm that,” she said nervously.

  “We’ll ask her, don’t worry about that,” Chief Hewson said matter-of-factly. “Was anyone else in the kitchen when you spoke with Mrs. Donnelly?”

  DeeDee shook her head. “No. She thanked me and gave me a check for the party. I thought she was going to bed.”

  “Clearly not,” Chief Hewson said, “considering that her body was found near the pool house.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Dana?” DeeDee blurted out, unable to contain h
er curiosity any longer.

  The chief raised a hand to silence her. “All in good time, Mrs. Wilson. Did you leave the premises right after Dana gave you the check?”

  “No. I think it was about thirty minutes later. It took me a while to repack my car with all of the leftover food and catering equipment I’d brought to the party,” DeeDee explained. “And then I…well, I sat in my car for a bit,” she said sheepishly.

  The police officers exchanged looks. “Why did you do that, Mrs. Wilson?” the chief asked her.

  “I had a lot on my mind. It’s not against the law, is it?” DeeDee replied hotly. “In fact, if you’d just let me tell you what happened when I was sitting there, maybe I can help you.”

  Chief Hewson leaned forward. “Please do, Mrs. Wilson.” He looked at her expectantly. “In your own time.”

  “I was lost in my thoughts,” DeeDee said, “when I heard a noise from the side of the house. The next thing I knew, someone was running toward my car. I thought it was one of the guests from the party, drunk.”

  “Can you tell us who you saw? What did this person look like?”

  “It was dark,” DeeDee said, agitated, “so I couldn’t make them out at all. I have no idea if it was a man or a woman. I thought they were going to run into my car, so I yelled and tried to turn on the headlights.”

  The second police officer was furiously scribbling notes.

  “And then what happened?” Chief Hewson asked her.

  “When whoever it was heard me yelling, the person stopped and raised an arm to their face, shielding it from view,” DeeDee said. “By the time I turned on the headlights, they’d run off.”

  “I see,” Chief Hewson said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “And then what did you do?”

  “I drove home,” DeeDee said matter-of-factly.

  Chief Hewson’s eyes widened. “Didn’t it seem strange to you that there was some kind of a noise, followed by someone running away?”