Winner Cake All

by Denise Swanson

  “I want to talk to Brock first.” Spencer lifted a hand as if he knew very well that Dani would object. “Once I do, I’ll turn him over to Christensen.”

  “It’s not a good idea to wait,” Dani cautioned. “What if he disappears before you find him? Couldn’t keeping that info be considered obstruction?”

  “Technically.” Spencer seemed unconcerned with the thought of being arrested. “But if I can’t locate him in the next two or three days, I’ll go to the cops and report his presence. I just won’t mention when I first saw him. No harm, no foul.” Spencer squeezed Dani’s hand. “For all we know, Christensen is already looking for him and that’s why Brock was sneaking around.”

  Still concerned but knowing this wasn’t an argument that she’d win, Dani took a second to consider what Spencer had told her, then said, “I wonder what your friend Brock was doing at the food pantry.”

  “Maybe he was here for the free hot meal.” Spencer shrugged.

  “But if he was hurt on the job, wouldn’t he get disability?” Dani recalled her training in HR and added, “I think it’s usually about seventy-five percent of his previous salary.”

  “But he’s been off the grid,” Spencer countered. “He probably hasn’t been collecting it in order to stay invisible.”

  “That’s possible,” Dani conceded, then suggested, “But I think he might have been at the food pantry dinner because of you.”

  “What would make you believe that?” Spencer’s tone was doubtful.

  “First, describe Brock to me,” Dani ordered. “Then I’ll tell you.”

  “He’s about my height. Short brown hair—at least that’s how he used to wear it. Hazel eyes.” Spencer paused. “And he was very muscular. He worked out a lot, but I don’t know if that’s still the case.”

  Dani nodded to herself as Spencer spoke, then said, “He must have come back to the food pantry after you chased him away.”

  “You saw him?” Spencer had been relaxed, but stiffened at her words. “Where?”

  “When we were leaving to go to your place and you escorted me to my van,” Dani explained. “I saw a guy watching us from behind a car.”

  “And the Peeping Tom looked like how I described Brock?” Spencer asked.

  “Yes.” Dani closed her eyes. “But his hair was to his shoulders.”

  “How about his arm?” Spencer asked quickly. “Was he an amputee?”

  “He was wearing a canvas jacket, you know like the ones hunters wear, and besides, I couldn’t see past below his shoulder.”

  “That’s what Brock had on when I spotted him.” Spencer grimaced. “But why would he be following me? What could he want?”

  “Maybe he’s gone crazy.” Dani shuddered as a shiver ran down her spine. “If he killed Yvette, you could be his next target.”

  “Why in the heck would he want to get rid of me?” Spencer shook his head. “He’s the one that nailed my wife, not vice versa.”

  “Unless Yvette claimed you were behind her dumping him. That you were the love of her life.” Dani shrugged. “She didn’t seem to care too much if she hurt someone. In fact, she sort of seemed to enjoy it.” Dani glanced at Spencer to gauge his reaction.

  Despite Spencer’s obvious dislike of his ex-wife, Dani wondered if it hurt him to hear her described in such an unflattering light. How did he feel knowing that he’d married a woman like that? They probably should talk about what had made him fall in love with Yvette sometime, but she was too tired to go into it now.

  Spencer seemed unfazed with Dani’s less-than- flattering portrayal of Yvette. And after a moment he nodded his agreement with her assessment of his ex. Then he gazed out of the windshield and silently stared into the darkness.

  Dani was just about to ask him what he was thinking about when he said, “Although in the scenario you suggested, since Yvi was marrying Franklin Whittaker, wouldn’t he be the more obvious target for Brock?”

  “I suppose, but I feel like there’s something we’re missing.” Dani yawned. “And truthfully, my brain is too fried to function anymore.”

  “You’re right and I’m sorry.” Spencer took her in his arms. “You need to get some sleep and so do I. Call me when you take a break after the lunch-to-go sales. If I’m not tied up, maybe we can grab an hour together.”

  “That might work.” Dani kissed his cheek. “Except for some ordering, planning, and recipe trials, I’m free all afternoon and evening.”

  * * *

  Tuesday morning was a typical late October day in Illinois—dark, dank, and depressing. Instead of the glorious autumn full of colorful leaves that they’d all been hoping against hope for, they got the gray skies and drizzle common to the area. By this point, eighty percent of the population firmly believed that the state only had two seasons, summer and winter, and the other twenty percent were making plans to leave for Florida.

  Dani wished she were one of the latter. She was already tired of not seeing the sun until nearly seven thirty in morning and having it disappear before six at night. Or maybe her bad mood was due to her lack of sleep and worry that Spencer was in danger from either Brock or the police. Or maybe both.

  At 5:45 when she walked into her kitchen and flicked on the overhead lights, their glow out the windows was the only illumination around the gray-shrouded mansion. Rain beat at the glass, and when she gazed outside, she couldn’t see any farther than the driveway through the fog.

  While she waited for the coffee to brew, she switched on the radio, which was set to the university’s student-run station. During the morning and early afternoon, it broadcast weather and news interspersed with selections of upbeat instrumental music. That changed to a hipper variety of tunes after classes were over for the day.

  As Dani tuned in, the announcer was giving the hourly weather report. “High today in the lower sixties with wind out of the north, making it feel colder. Tonight will be in the forties with a chance of thunderstorms. No change is predicted for the rest of the week, so select your Halloween costume with that in mind.”

  Dani rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. She could put on a sweatshirt, but as soon as she started cooking, she’d be too hot and have to take it off.

  Next up on the radio was the news, which mostly focused on activities around the campus. “In the early hours of Tuesday morning, three pledges from the Gamma Zeta Pi fraternity unleashed a flock of chickens in the Mu Nu Alpha sorority house. Campus security said the prank was in retaliation for MNA’s pledges filling the GZP’s game room with water balloons. No arrests have been made.”

  As Dani wondered which of Spencer’s staff was forced to deal with that mess, the thud of footsteps on the stairs interrupted her thoughts. A second later, Starr and Tippi stumbled into the kitchen. Neither girl was a morning person, but they both had an eight o’clock class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which meant Ivy was Dani’s scheduled helper for the lunch prep.

  “Good morning.” Dani hurriedly dispensed her own cup of coffee. Her boarders often drained the pot with their huge to-go cups. The manufacturer claimed the machine brewed ten portions, but all the girls had massive travel mugs that emptied the carafe with a couple of pours. Once Dani had her precious caffeine, she asked, “How do ham-and-cheese quinoa cups sound?”

  “Sure.” Starr walked over and got out plates and silverware.

  Tippi sat slumped on a counter stool and complained, “You promised waffles.”

  Dani barely stopped herself from snorting at Tippi’s obvious lie. “Your other choice is bran cereal with bananas.” There was no way she had said that she’d make them waffles. On weekdays, she tried to send them off with a healthy breakfast. “Or oatmeal.”

  “Fine.” Tippi jutted out her bottom lip. “You made waffles for that detective. Clearly, you love him more than us.”

  How in the world did Tippi know that? Dani thought back. None of the
girls were around Sunday morning and there hadn’t been any leftovers. Then again, Tippi did have an extraordinary sense of smell. Dani was convinced the girl was part bloodhound. She’d probably gotten a whiff of the maple syrup in the air.

  Ignoring Tippi’s whining, Dani turned on the oven to preheat, then opened the fridge and grabbed the bowl of leftover quinoa from yesterday’s lunch-to-go prep. While she was at it, she took out a carton of eggs, bag of shredded cheddar, and a block of parmesan cheese, as well as the shredded zucchini, green onions, and diced ham that she’d prepared before heading to the food pantry last night.

  As Dani nudged the refrigerator door closed, Starr asked, “Have you ever wondered why the fridge merits a light, but the freezer is kept in darkness?”

  Dani shrugged. It was too early to wax philosophical. Instead, she began to combine ingredients for her breakfast creation.

  As she added some chopped parsley, salt, and pepper, she glanced up when Tippi muttered, “The refrigerator had a better agent.”

  Chuckling, Dani looked at Starr and asked, “Everything okay with you and Robert?”

  “I think so.” Starr poured herself a glass of orange juice and joined Tippi at the counter. “He’s been awfully busy lately, but he says that pledging is over the day after Halloween and then he should be back to his normal work schedule.”

  “I’m glad things are going well between you two.” Dani liberally coated muffin tins with nonstick spray and spooned the egg mixture to the top of each cup. “He seems like a nice guy.”

  Starr took a sip of her juice and beamed. “He invited me to his dad’s birthday party next Saturday. Now I need to figure out a gift.”

  “Maybe Spencer would have an idea. You should ask him for a suggestion.” Dani slid the muffin tin into the oven and looked at Tippi. “How’s your plan to lure Caleb from the friend zone doing?”

  “Good.” Tippi smiled, then frowned. “Except he says he has to take that other girl to the dance because he already invited her.”

  “I warned you about that.” Dani washed the mixing bowl and put it in the drainer.

  “But he doesn’t want me to go with another guy.” Tippi pouted. “That’s not fair.”

  “Caleb has a problem with you going with a guy, even if he’s just a friend?” Dani asked, drying her hands.

  Tippi made a face. “I don’t really have any guy friends that won’t want something more.”

  “Then I see Caleb’s point.” Dani glanced at the oven timer. There was another five minutes to go. “How are Ivy and Laz doing?”

  “Don’t ask.” Starr shuddered.

  “No. Maybe Dani should ask Ivy,” Tippi said, thoughtfully. “I bet she could give Ivy some good advice.”

  “Definitely not.” Dani shook her head. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s there are only two good reasons to give advice: if someone requests your input or if it’s a life-threatening situation. Ivy hasn’t asked me what I think, and although painful, you don’t die from a broken heart.”

  Chapter 21

  Tippi and Starr had already finished breakfast and gone upstairs to get ready for their classes when Ivy trudged into the kitchen and headed straight for the coffeepot. Dani hadn’t seen her since Saturday night, and she was dismayed at the change in her young friend. The girl looked ten years older and a hundred times unhappier than her usual cheerful self.

  Ivy’s hair was unwashed and scraped into a ponytail, her eyes were dull, and she moved as if a boulder were strapped to her back. Sitting at the counter, she ignored the food Dani slid in front of her and wrapped her hands around her cup as if she were cold.

  “I’m glad you’re my helper today,” Dani said with forced cheer. “It seems as if I haven’t talked to you in ages. Sorry I wasn’t around last night.” She and Ivy usually binged on Chopped episodes on Monday nights. “Your uncle helped me at the food pantry dinner, then we went to his place and ordered a pizza. We were starved.”

  “That’s okay.” Ivy straightened, looking marginally perkier. “Did you have a nice time? Was the ice cream a surprise?”

  “I did and it was.” Dani beamed. “Thank you for being a part of it.”

  “You and Uncle Spence make a good couple.” Ivy’s smile slipped a little, but she took a breath and said, “That’s something special and rare. I’m glad to be a part of making that happen anytime.”

  She and Ivy shared an understanding glance, then Dani said, “You better eat something because we need to start preparing the lunches.”

  Although it was barely 7:00 a.m., it would take them a couple of hours to get the food ready and another hour to get it packed. Dani consulted her list and began to gather ingredients and equipment.

  Soon the scent of chocolate and caramel drifted through the air. Dani inhaled the tantalizing aroma as she prepared her delectable triple-layer shortbread bars for the Indulgent lunch bags.

  Ivy was silent while she sliced the pastrami for the sandwiches that would also go into the Indulgent bag, but after she got through the ten pounds of brisket, she asked, “What does it mean when a guy tells you he’ll be out of touch for a while and you can’t contact him?” Without waiting for Dani to respond, Ivy continued in a shaky voice, “Is that him saying he’s dropping you?”

  Dani paused. Lying to Ivy and denying that possibility wouldn’t make the situation any better.

  “That is certainly one of the things it might mean.” Dani finished mixing the shortbread crust, pressed it into the prepared sheet pan, and slid it into the preheated oven. “Did Laz tell you that?”

  “Uh-huh.” Ivy let out a long, sad sigh as she lined up a bowl of oil-and-vinegar coleslaw, a stack of Swiss cheese slices, and a squeeze bottle of Dani’s homemade Thousand Island dressing. “He sent me a text Sunday morning while I was still asleep.”

  “I’m surprised he was up so early.” While the shortbread baked, Dani turned her attention to the homemade barbecue potato chips that would accompany the pastrami sandwich. “Did you ask him why?”

  Before she started to assemble the Rye Are You So Sad sandwiches, Ivy poured chocolate chips from the bin sitting on the counter into her hand, popped them in her mouth, and mumbled, “I couldn’t. When I finally saw his message, it was already way past the time he said he was leaving.”

  Dani was thinly slicing potatoes on a mandolin, the scariest piece of equipment in her kitchen, and unwilling to risk her fingers, she paused before she asked, “Couldn’t you send him a text?”

  “His message said that he wouldn’t have his phone with him.”

  Dani considered her response as she finished cutting the spuds and began to mix sugar, salt, onion powder, smoked paprika, chili powder, and garlic powder together in a large bowl. Should she say what she was thinking?

  “It sort of sounds like Laz might be back in rehab,” Dani finally admitted, glad Ivy couldn’t see her concerned expression.

  Ivy had finished assembling the Indulgent sandwiches and wrapping them, and when Dani spoke, she was on her way to store them in the commercial-sized cooler in the back of the kitchen. She stuttered to a stop, still holding the huge tray stacked with the Rye Are You So Sad entrée.

  Ivy’s voice cracked. “That can’t be it. I have never seen him touch a drop of alcohol or smelled it on his breath.”

  The timer beeped and Dani fetched the shortbread crust from the oven, then put it on a rack to cool as she carefully chose her words. “From my experience in human resources, alcoholics can be sneaky.”

  Ivy didn’t respond, but after she deposited the sandwiches in the cooler and pulled out the ingredients to make the Healthy side dish, pear and fennel salad, she said, “I have Mr. Hunter’s phone number. Should I call him and ask? Would that be okay?”

  “Let me think about that for a minute,” Dani said, unwilling to give her young friend advice she hadn’t completely thought through.


  While she considered Ivy’s question, she put the potatoes into a large bowl of cold water, separating the slices. Then she drained the water and repeated the process a couple of more times. Next, she spread out a layer of paper towels and put the potatoes on them to dry. Finally, she set her deep-fryer to 300 degrees.

  Having come to a decision, Dani glanced in her friend’s direction and watched Ivy toss the salad for a minute before she said, “It might not be wise to contact Mr. Hunter.”

  “Why not?” As Ivy spooned the pear and fennel into compostable plastic bowls and snapped on the lids, her brows met over her nose, a clear sign of her bewilderment. “Mr. Hunter told me to call him anytime.”

  “Rehab isn’t something that every family is comfortable with discussing openly,” Dani cautioned as she tested the shortbread crust, found it had cooled enough, and poured the caramel layer over it.

  “But that’s the thing.” Ivy deposited the salads in the catering refrigerator, then came back and started slicing kale, avocado, and cucumber for the Healthy entrée. “His father is cool about it. We talked about Laz’s addiction when I met him a few months ago. Laz’s mom, not so much.”

  “I see.” Dani nodded as she spread melted chocolate over the caramel and put the bars in the refrigerator to harden. She was impressed with Ivy’s willingness to address a difficult issue. “In that case, maybe a phone call wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  “What should I say?” Ivy grabbed a bulk package of whole grain tortillas from the pantry and dealt them out along the counter like playing cards.

  “Good question.” Dani put a quarter of the potato chips in the fryer.

  “Maybe I could just tell him about the text and say I wanted to make sure Laz was okay.” Ivy smeared a tortilla with hummus, then layered the veggies she’d cut on top. “Or would I just sound pathetic, like a girl who didn’t know she’d been dumped?”

  “Let me ask you a question.” As each batch of chips came out of the fryer, Dani poured seasoning mix into a sieve and dusted it over them, gently tossing the slices so that they coated evenly. “You’ve always maintained that you and Laz are just friends. Is that true?”