Winner Cake All

by Denise Swanson

  Spencer had been seconds from allowing his emotions to take over when Dani had touched his arm and a sense of contentment settled over his shoulders like a warm sweater. Then Dani had once again surprised him when she calmly accepted the news that her new client was his ex-wife.

  Instead of melting down, Dani had shown such grace that Spencer felt blessed to have someone like her in his life. And at that moment, he vowed to do everything in his power to keep her by his side.

  A year ago, Spencer would have said he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. Hell, six months ago, his fondest desire had been to keep all women at arm’s length. Then he met Little Miss Cupcake, and now she was always in his thoughts.

  Spencer inhaled sharply. No woman had ever affected him this way. Was it crazy to think that he might have actually met the right one? The one who was meant for him?

  He was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question, but she wasn’t ready to hear how he felt about her so he’d keep quiet for a while. But sooner rather than later, he planned to tell her and find out if she felt the same way.

  As Spencer neared his town house, he thought again about the moment Dani disappeared under that collapsed tent. It had been horrifying to see her in such a dangerous situation, but it also warmed his heart and confirmed his opinion about her strength of character.

  She was such a strange mixture of tough businesswoman and caring individual. She rarely did what he expected her to, and although he normally hated being caught by surprise, he found that he didn’t mind it so much with her. Maybe that was the real test of true love.

  Spencer shook his head. It was too late at night to deal with something this important, and he was relieved to turn in to his driveway. He’d get some rack time and think about it all in the morning.

  Spencer was surprised that there were no lights in the windows of the adjoining town houses. Most of his neighbors weren’t exactly early-to-bed kind of people, so it wasn’t often he returned to total darkness, but he guessed that even the most dedicated party animals had to sleep sometime.

  After pulling into the attached garage, Spencer climbed out of the pickup’s cab and winced as he walked toward the door. He’d already been stiff from his time crawling around under the collapsed tent, and dozing off in the chair at Dani’s hadn’t helped. Another sign that it was good he’d come out from undercover. Being a UC was a young man’s game, and his thirtieth birthday was long past.

  Ignoring the aches and pains, Spencer went inside and headed to the kitchen. Despite his exhaustion and longing for his bed, he was all stirred up and needed a beer if he had a hope in hell of falling asleep anytime soon.

  Grabbing a bottle from the fridge, he opened it, walked into the living room, and flopped down on the couch. The wood frame creaked under his weight and the faux leather crackled as he wiggled into a comfortable position.

  He took a swig and his thoughts skittered back to Dani’s last words. Spencer knew she was worried that he would be a prime suspect in his ex’s murder, and although he’d played down the probability of that, he was concerned that Christensen would take this opportunity to give him a hard time and keep him under the microscope.

  Spencer’s stomach churned. That would be bad on so many levels. First, the threat of bad publicity could cause the university administrators to consider cutting him loose.

  Like all other university employees, his contract had a morals clause. And being accused of murder could certainly violate it.

  Second, Spencer needed to keep a low profile to remain off the motorcycle gang’s radar. He paid a hacker friend to keep his name out of social media and off the internet, but he doubted even his pal could erase everything fast enough if he were accused of murder.

  All he needed was a member of Satan’s Posse to see his face and realize that he had been the Tin Man. A guy who was supposed to have been dead for a couple of years.

  Spencer kicked off his shoes, put his stocking feet on the coffee table and balanced his beer bottle on his stomach. If the gang found him, Dani and Ivy would be in danger. Satan’s Posse had a scorched-earth policy that included destroying their enemy’s loved ones.

  Should he suggest to Ivy’s father that she needed to take a semester off from college? Maybe she could study abroad. Spencer’s family may not know the details of his previous career, but they knew it was dangerous and his brother would definitely take his warning seriously.

  Of course, thinking that way meant that he should back away from Dani too. Without Ivy living with her, it would be easy enough to keep his distance and keep her safe from the gang’s reprisals.

  Spencer thought about it awhile longer, then abruptly sat up, barely catching his bottle before it went flying across the room.

  Hell no!

  Christensen had proven himself a reasonable guy. In fact, if the detective didn’t insist on hanging around Dani, they’d probably be friends. Spencer would just have to make him see reason. And if worse came to worst, he’d approach Christensen’s superior.

  While Chief Cleary didn’t know everything about Spencer’s undercover work, she knew enough to understand why his being named a suspect would be almost as bad for citizens she was sworn to protect as it was for him.

  After leaving the stadium without telling the detective that Yvette was his ex-wife, Spencer had had second thoughts. Withholding that information from the police probably hadn’t been one of his best ideas.

  He definitely needed to catch Christensen and explain the situation before the guy found out on his own about Spencer’s past relationship with the victim. The detective had agreed to meet Spencer at the police station downtown at seven sharp. Surely he wouldn’t have a chance to research Yvette too deeply before morning.

  Still unsettled, Spencer paced the short length of his living room looking around the place as if seeing it for the first time. All he had was furniture and a TV. Undercover, it was dangerous to have pictures or any other mementos, and he was still in the habit of maintaining that type of Spartan surroundings.

  What would Dani think of that? The mansion was full of warm touches and personal possessions. Would she think they were too different to get along?

  Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. No woman before Dani had ever been in his thoughts so much. Even during his brief marriage, he could go days without thinking about Yvi.

  He chuckled darkly at himself. Maybe that was why Yvette had cheated on him. She was a woman who had craved attention and he sure hadn’t given it to her.

  Shaking his head at all his past mistakes, Spencer thought of the myriad of ways he had screwed up his personal life. He was determined not to do that again. This time he would take things slowly with Dani. And he would be a lot more honest with her than he’d ever been with his ex.

  He would work regular hours that allowed him to concentrate on really getting to know Dani. Only then would he attempt to take their relationship to the next level.

  While she was always in the back of his mind, and just before going to sleep at night, he’d fantasize that she was beside him, he would wait. It would be torture, but for now her hugs and kisses would have to be enough. Especially until Yvette’s murder was solved.

  Chugging the last of his beer, he walked into the kitchen and put the empty bottle in the recycle bin. Then, instead of going to bed as he had intended, he pulled out a chair and sat at the table. There was something else bothering him. Something he’d tried hard to convince himself couldn’t possibly be true.

  What if the murderer wasn’t someone with a grudge against Yvette? What if he or she was someone from Spencer’s past? The gang hadn’t been the first criminal enterprise that Spencer had infiltrated or the only group of creeps who had a grudge against him.

  It was a little farfetched, and Spencer wasn’t sold on it, but if it was some perp who had just gotten out of prison, he might not know that Yvette wa
sn’t someone that Spencer cared about anymore. Or if he did, he might have killed her hoping to set up Spencer for the fall.

  Which meant Dani could be in danger. Spencer’s gut clenched.

  Maybe he should take a look at the case. After all, the local cops could probably use some help. They might have their fair share of murders in Normalton, but most of the homicides they dealt with were due to domestic violence, robbery, or drugs.

  A true whodunit would be difficult for them to investigate. Especially one with a prominent citizen like Franklin Whittaker at the epicenter.

  As Spencer finally headed to bed, he had a plan beginning to form. After he’d come clean to Christensen about his relationship to Yvette, he’d be free to reach out to some of his old pals and see what his ex had been up to since their divorce.

  Once Spencer and Yvette had parted ways, the only contact he’d had with her was through their lawyers. He hadn’t really had anything to do with her or his friends since he’d left Chicago. Maybe it was time to rectify that situation.

  Chapter 12

  On Sunday morning, as Dani got ready for church, the thought of Spencer’s upcoming conversation with Gray nibbled at her as if it were a mosquito that refused to die no matter how much she swatted it. If both men remained calm and reasonable, there shouldn’t be a problem. But she had a hunch that a single wrong word by either of them would set the other one off, and that could be the Jenga piece that toppled the tower of trust they had been slowly building.

  Maybe her apprehension was due to a lack of rest. Dani couldn’t remember a time anymore when she wasn’t at least a little tired.

  She’d been tempted to skip Mass and sleep a few more hours, but church was probably a good idea. Not only for her soul, but also to hear the chatter about last night’s disaster.

  Normalton wasn’t exactly a small town, but it wasn’t the big city either. The tent collapse would have been big news and there was usually someone who had heard something about any momentous event that happened in the immediate area. And, more important, was willing to gossip about it.

  Slipping on a simple blue sheath with three-quarter-length bell sleeves and navy pumps, Dani studied her reflection in the mirror. She’d pulled her hair into a low ponytail and covered the dark circles under her eyes with makeup. She wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but she was vertical and dressed. That had to count for something, right?

  Hurrying downstairs, Dani went out the kitchen door and retrieved her van from its spot near the carriage house, then drove the few minutes to St. Sebastian’s. She lucked into a parking space along the side of the building and dashed inside, slipping into a seat moments before the entrance procession began.

  As always, the service was both soothing and uplifting. Dani loved the simplicity of the church’s interior. It was plain, with cream walls, oak pews, and simple statues of Mary and Joseph. There were no gilt or gaudy ornaments, and even the cross was made of wood, not gold or silver.

  In his homily, Father Allam achieved a perfect balance between concern for the people who had been harmed during the tent collapse and confidence that everything that happened was God’s plan.

  After the Apostle’s Creed, Father Allam started off the Prayer of the Faithful by saying, “For our wonderful chorus who allows the rest of the flock to lip-synch.”

  Dani snickered as she murmured, “Hear our prayer.”

  The rest of the service flew by, and before she knew it the recessional played. Dani followed the others as they made their way down the aisle, but before she got to the exit, she noticed a knot of people at the back.

  As she neared them, she realized that they were exchanging opinions about the tent collapse. Stepping out of the aisle, she lingered at the edge of the group.

  A man dressed in shiny navy pants, a white shirt, and a pumpkin-print tie said, “Junior told us it was raining sideways and the wind tore into that fancy tent like a herd of drunken buffalos.”

  One of the women shivered. “Your son was lucky to get out alive.”

  “Yeah.” The man wiped his forehead with a starched white handkerchief. “Thank goodness the drinks tables were along the sides of the tent so he and the other bartenders were able to crawl away pretty easily.”

  Dani saw her opportunity and interjected, “Did the police talk to him?” When she saw the man frown, she hastily added, “I mean about his experience. You know, for the insurance reports and all.”

  A woman standing next to the bartender’s father patted her hair, which was arranged in a towering structure of curls, and said, “My son was too shaken up to give any kind of statement. We want him to talk to our attorney before he says anything to anyone. He needs to be compensated for the emotional trauma of almost being killed.”

  The pack murmured their agreement, then a man in an expensive gray suit and polished black shoes said, “That big shot Whittaker better have a lot of insurance coverage because everyone will be suing his rich butt.”

  “Well, not the lady who was killed,” snickered a bald man near Dani. Then with a malicious look in his porcine eyes, he added, “A woman who looked like her would have really taken him to the cleaners.”

  “They were getting married,” the bartender’s mother protested. “She wouldn’t be bringing a claim against her own husband now, would she?”

  “Maybe not,” Mr. Gray Suit allowed. “But she would have still eventually cost the guy a pile of cash, if not everything he owned.” He put his thumb in his breast pocket. “My friend’s wife’s cousin works at the law firm that represents Whittaker, and she said the prenup was the stupidest thing she ever saw. It started the moment the woman said yes to his proposal and she got a million dollars just for accepting his ring. After the formal announcement at the engagement party, that amount doubled.”

  Voices rose as everyone in the group offered their views as to whether Yvette was a gold digger or not. Opinions were leaning heavily on the yes-she-was-definitely-marrying-him-for-his-money side when Dani slunk away.

  As she passed the bulletin board, she glanced at a bright-blue poster that read: DON’T LET WORRY KILL YOU OFF—LET THE CHURCH HELP.

  Chuckling, she vowed not to let worry or the church kill her, then headed for the parking lot. It was time to get home and cook Gray a brunch that would make him think twice about suspecting either her or Spencer.

  And while Gray ate her amazing food, she’d also feed him an alternative theory to the ex-husband-is-always-the-killer philosophy. He would definitely want to know about Franklin Whittaker’s prenup agreement.

  * * *

  “So, the general consensus is that Franklin killed her to save himself a million dollars.” Dani finished telling Gray what she’d heard at church as she slid a lemon-blueberry crumb-cake waffle in front of him.

  As Gray reached for the pitcher of Dani’s best pure Vermont maple syrup, he said, “Interesting that Mr. Whittaker never mentioned that to us.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Before the detective could pour the precious nectar, Dani quickly sprinkled a brown-sugar crumb topping on his waffle, then motioned him to continue with the flow of gooey goodness.

  “Me either.” As Gray picked up his fork, he shot her a pointed look. “It seems like a lot of people didn’t share what they knew last night. Both you and Drake failed to inform me of an important fact.”

  “Very funny.” Dani scowled. “I didn’t think of it at the time.”

  Dani was concerned at how ticked off Gray sounded. He sure wasn’t his usual sweet self and it scared her. She searched her thoughts, trying to come up with another lead to cheer him up, but nothing popped into her head.

  “You don’t expect me to really believe that, do you?” Gray’s tone was curt, but his expression brightened as he demolished a crisp slice of bacon.

  “It’s true.” Dani crossed her heart. Then deciding it was time to turn the tables on
Gray, she said, “Maybe if you’d have mentioned that Yvette’s death wasn’t an accident, I would have thought of it.”

  “So you think Drake has a motive to kill his ex?” Gray pounced.

  “No! What?” Dani’s pulse raced. “Wait!”

  Had she really just said that?

  “Why else would the fact that Ms. Joubert had been murdered make you remember that Drake was her ex-husband?” Gray continued to eat, a tiny smile playing along his lips as he watched her squirm.

  “Fine.” Dani finished making her own waffle and walked around the counter. She took the stool next to the detective and continued, “Yes, that information would have then caused me to make the connection with Spencer, but not because I think he killed her, but due to the fact that I knew the police would suspect him.”

  “Good catch. I can understand why you were good at your career in HR.” Gray ate in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he seemed to relent and admitted, “Although I have to consider Drake as a possibility, I can’t see him having any motive other than pure revenge, which doesn’t match his character at all.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t.” The anvil that had been sitting on Dani’s chest lifted and she was able to take a bite of her waffle. It was a new recipe that she was considering for the Dog Park fundraiser brunch she’d been hired to cater in December. “Yes, Yvette cost Spencer some money, but my impression is that he was more relieved to be rid of her than upset about the cash.”

  “Of course that’s what he’d want you to think.” Gray’s tone was teasing, or at least Dani hoped that was the intention of his comment.

  “So do you suspect me?” Dani crossed her fingers, hoping Gray would reassure her that she wasn’t on his list of possible killers.