Winner Cake All

by Denise Swanson

  All eyes turned to Dani, and Spencer ran his finger down her burning cheek, then he picked up her hand, kissed her palm, and said, “You’re exactly right, bro. Turns out you did me a solid when you opened up my eyes about Yvi. You showed she really wasn’t worth my time and effort.”

  “Okay.” Gray had taken out his memo pad out when he sat down and now he looked up from the notes he’d been making. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Mr. Ortiz was engaged to Yvette after Spencer started divorce proceedings, but before she ended up with Franklin Whittaker.” When they all nodded, the detective continued, “Spencer spotted Mr. Ortiz on Monday and rather than report his presence in the area to me, decided to look for his ex-friend on his own.”

  Suddenly starving, Dani grabbed a curry powder, dried fruit, and slivered almond chicken salad sandwich, then before taking a bite commented, “I told him that was a bad idea.”

  Spencer rolled his eyes at her before he looked at Gray and said, “Sorry. This whole thing with Yvi has gotten to me more than I realized, and I haven’t been thinking straight. I just wanted a chance to talk to Brock before we involved the police.”

  “Mmm,” Gray mumbled through a mouthful of cognac-marinated beef tenderloin sub. After he swallowed, he said, “Don’t let it happen again. Fellow law enforcement or not, friend or not, there’s only so much slack I can cut you.”

  “I understand and it won’t happen again.” Spencer gave a firm nod, then said, “Anyway, once Brock showed up here and we got through the personal stuff, he told us he’d been following Yvi.”

  “Did you see who killed her?” Gray asked, quickly swallowing the sip of coffee he’d just taken. “Is that the video?”

  “Sadly, no.” Dani shook her head. “He recorded Yvette hooking up with a guy just before her engagement party. And it wasn’t her fiancé. Remember I called and told you that Mr. Hunter said Yvette had been caught cheating and the woman who caught them told Whittaker?”

  “So you think Franklin Whittaker killed her?” Gray guessed, his shoulder slumping. “We’ve cleared him. There are two witnesses that confirm that he was pinned under a table with them. They were with him the entire time until they were freed by a first responder and then they accompanied him when he looked for Yvette and consequently found her body.”

  “Whittaker isn’t our suspect.” Frannie finished her smoked salmon roll-up, licked the cream cheese from her fingers, and smirked. “Try again, Detective.”

  Gray shot the reporter a cold glare and retorted, “I’m not the one who claims to know the murderer’s identity.” He looked at Dani. “That would be you.”

  “Right.” Dani tapped her chin. “Where was I? Ah, yes. Brock explained that his intent in following Yvette was to catch her cheating on Mr. Whittaker, tell him, and ruin her chance to marry the billionaire.”

  “I knew she was cheating for a while, but I could never get a look at the guy’s face or get any kind of proof.” Brock confirmed what Dani had said, then added, “That is, until Saturday night. I recorded her screwing lover boy and then the both of them getting out of the car.”

  “Again.” Gray was clearly getting frustrated. “Whittaker didn’t do it.”

  “I promise you he isn’t my suspect.” Dani reached across the table and patted the detective’s hand, earning a glare from Spencer.

  “Okay.” Gray polished off his sandwich and took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

  While Brock explained his delay in getting into the tent and then the conversation he overheard between the wedding planner and Whittaker, Gray took notes and ate cornflake-chocolate-chip-marshmallow cookies.

  Finally, he interrupted Brock and asked, “You’re sure the wedding planner doesn’t know lover boy’s name?”

  “I am.” Brock crossed his arms.

  Spencer snatched the last red velvet brownie just before Frannie nabbed it, then said, “However, Brock did hear Whittaker vow to find out who he was and ruin the guy, even if he had to pay Yvi to reveal the man’s identity.”

  “Whittaker was on his way to confront Yvette when the tent collapsed, but he never got a chance to get the information from her,” Frannie said, triumphantly snatching the remaining cornflake-chocolate-chip-marshmallow cookie out from under Gray’s questing fingertips.

  “Which is why I’m ninety-nine percent positive Yvette’s lover killed her.” Dani grinned. “He was the only one who had something major to lose if Yvette was alive and able to talk to Mr. Whittaker. And by major, I mean getting a spot in the major leagues. Not only does Mr. Whittaker control his career in the Korn Kings, Vicki told me that Mr. Whittaker has recently invested in the majors as well.”

  “So you were able to identify him on Mr. Ortiz’s recording?” Gray asked, then scanned the table obviously looking for the cell phone in question.

  Brock slid the device over to the detective and said, “It’s set to go. Just hit play.”

  While Gray watched the video, Dani said, “Because I already had a good idea of who it was, I can tell who it is, but I doubt it would hold up in court.”

  Gray narrowed his eyes. “Maybe our techs can clean up the footage and we can get a better view, but right now no one could make out who’s on the recording without prior knowledge of the man’s identity.” Focusing on Dani, Gray said, “I give up. Who is the guy?”

  “Marc Chandler.” Dani smiled. “After hearing everything Brock had to say, I remembered a few things that I’ve learned, observed, or overheard the past few weeks and put two and two together.”

  Dani held up her index finger. “First, I recalled that Tippi told me that if Marc played as well in the upcoming final postseason games as he had during the rest of the season, he was a shoo-in to be called up to the major leagues. That means he has a lot at stake, and being kicked off the Korn Kings team would ruin him. Especially if Whittaker put the word out that Marc was let go because he was playing poorly or was injured.”

  “Whittaker has the power to ruin any number of people,” Gray objected.

  Ignoring the interruption, Dani added another finger to the one she already had up and said, “Second, I heard Perry O’Toole, one of Marc’s teammates, teasing him at the food pantry about a woman he’d been seeing. One that he was keeping a big, dark secret. And during that same conversation, Perry said that Marc’s hookup hadn’t been around the past few days, which corresponded with the time period since Yvette’s death.”

  “That’s not exactly conclusive evidence,” Gray murmured, but he sounded less skeptical this time.

  “Third, Perry also mentioned that Marc is some kind of survivalist who knows all kinds of takedowns and holds.” Dani tilted her head. “My understanding is that an individual like that would likely know that a pen through the eye socket was a viable weapon that would kill someone.”

  “Good point,” Gray conceded. “Anything else?”

  “Besides that Marc looks like the guy in the video?” Dani asked. “Not really. But you said you had a print on the ink cartridge. Can’t you match it to him?”

  “Maybe.” Gray pursed his lips. “However, I’m not sure what we have is enough to compel him to allow us to fingerprint him.”

  “Couldn’t you connect him to the pen?” Dani asked. She was frustrated that evidently knowing who killed Yvette and having enough proof for the police to act on it were two separate things. “You said that it was a unique design and very expensive.”

  Frannie perked up. “Was it a green-and-gold Mont d’Eau fountain pen?”

  “We haven’t released the description to the public.” Gray’s brows rose in alarm. “How do you know that? Did Dani tell you? Is there a leak in my department?”

  “Nope.” Frannie beamed. “But last spring, I did a piece on the Korn Kings. Franklin Whittaker likes to motivate his players, and one way he does it is special gifts. He awards a custom-designed green-and-gold, which are the team colo
rs, Mont d’Eau fountain pen to any player that makes a grand slam or pitches a no-hitter.”

  “So, if everyone Whittaker has given a pen can produce it and Marc can’t…” Dani trailed off.

  “We might have enough to compel his fingerprints.” Gray nodded, then sighed. “However even if we get his prints and they match, he can claim he lost the pen. And the video is too dim to use as proof.”

  “But you can check around to see if you can find any corroboration that Marc was having an affair with Yvette,” Dani suggested.

  “Or.” Frannie rubbed her hands together. “You can ask Franklin Whittaker to help you get a confession.”

  Chapter 25

  Once Frannie had persuaded Gray that Whittaker was his best chance of getting Marc Chandler to admit he was the killer, the detective had left the mansion with a promise to let them know if the billionaire agreed. But so far, Gray was maintaining radio silence.

  Nearly two full days had passed and Dani was growing more restless with each passing minute. Although Gray had assured her that Marc would have round-the-clock surveillance until the police were ready to arrest him, she was afraid the baseball player would disappear if he got wind that he was the prime suspect in Yvette’s murder.

  Meanwhile, in between catering a community Halloween party Friday evening and working a personal chef gig on Saturday afternoon, Dani had tried to distract herself by prepping for the luncheon following Yvette’s memorial service on Sunday.

  Dani didn’t even have Spencer to take her mind off the murder. He’d warned her that he’d be swamped with the campus Halloween activities, as well as their aftermath the next day, and that he probably wouldn’t be able to contact her before he picked her up on Saturday.

  And it was after that date that Gray finally called. Dani and Spencer had returned from dinner and were relaxing in the mansion’s family room, watching a movie with the girls, when Dani’s phone played the Dragnet theme song. She snatched it from the coffee table and walked into the hallway with Spencer following her.

  “Did Whittaker agree?” she demanded, way too impatient to bother with the usual hello, how-are-you pleasantries.

  “He did.” Gray’s voice was amused. “Mr. Whittaker was actually thrilled at the chance to be a part of bringing Chandler down.”

  “To get justice for Yvette?” Dani suggested.

  “Nope.” Gray chuckled. “To get revenge on the guy who had made a fool of him by having an affair with his fiancée.”

  Dani glanced at Spencer and said, “Evidently, Whittaker isn’t as forgiving as you are.”

  “I didn’t forgive Brock until I met you.” Spencer kissed her on the nose.

  With warmth flooding her chest, Dani turned her attention back to the phone and asked, “How’s the whole thing going to go down?”

  “Whittaker suggested that we do it tomorrow between the memorial service and the lunch,” Gray answered. “He’s made it clear to his players that they are all expected to show up, so Chandler will already be at the country club. Whittaker will call him onto the veranda for a private chat in the gazebo. We’ll have several officers stashed within listening distance.”

  “Well, I hope I get to see you all make the arrest,” Dani said.

  “Sorry, that can’t happen.” Gray’s tone was sharp.

  “Actually it might.” Dani smiled at outmaneuvering the detective. “I’m catering the luncheon.”

  After emitting a string of curses worthy of a Navy SEAL, Gray cautioned Dani to steer clear of the action and hung up. When Spencer kissed her good night, he reinforced the detective’s warning to stay well away from the police sting.

  Once Spencer left, Dani headed to bed. She wanted to be well rested for the next day. Although she fully intended to remain tucked safely in the country club kitchen, she would definitely be keeping an eye on the operation. While being held hostage by one murderer was enough of that type of excitement to last her a lifetime, watching a murderer being apprehended wasn’t something she was willing to miss. Especially since she was the one who had figured out his identity.

  * * *

  Sunday dawned bright and clear. It had warmed up to the high seventies and everyone at Mass was acting as if summer had returned. Women had gone back to their lightweight skirts and blouses, while men wore khakis and short sleeves. However, knowing this was but a brief respite, Dani wasn’t about to unpack the seasonal clothes she’d just put away and settled for dress slacks and a silk tunic.

  After Dani got back to the mansion, she beelined to her suite and took off her church outfit. Out of respect for the occasion, she chose a black chef’s jacket instead of her usual red, then pulled on the matching pants and her comfy nonslip Dansk clogs.

  Once she returned downstairs, Dani loaded the van and headed to the luncheon venue. Ivy, Tippi, and Starr, along with two additional servers, were scheduled to arrive at the site half an hour before the meal to serve the entrées and desserts.

  Country club personnel were taking care of the table setups and manning the two bars. They would also be responsible for the cleanup.

  Vicki Troemel met Dani at the rear entrance of the imposing clubhouse. While the front was in a Mediterranean style, in back an expansive veranda overlooking trees and a tennis court ran the length of the building. From what Dani had been told, the lower level held activity and exercise rooms, while the restaurant, banquet hall, and kitchens occupied the main floor.

  As Vicki helped Dani unload the van and take everything inside, she explained, “The memorial observance is being conducted at noon by Serenity Lake. We should be back here about fifteen minutes after that. Please plan on serving the meal at one.”

  “No problem,” Dani assured her.

  She’d decided to offer the guests a choice of lamb, red wine, and rosemary potpies or a Veracruz-style red snapper. Because there was no RSVP, she just had to hope that close to an equal amount of diners would select each option. She had a dozen extra of both, but if all the diners decided they preferred one dish to the other, there would be a problem.

  Dani’s mind flew to the arrangements. The potpies were ready to go and would be put in the oven half an hour before they were scheduled to be served, but she planned to prepare the fish entrée in the clubhouse kitchen. All she had to do was sauté the already chopped onions and garlic, then add capers and caper juice, diced tomatoes, olives, and jalapeño peppers.

  At that point, she’d add the oregano, spoon half the mixture into the casserole dish, place the fish filet on top of the veggies, season them with salt, black pepper, and cayenne pepper, then pour on another layer of tomato mixture. After that, she’d squeeze lime juice over it all.

  The recipe only took fifteen minutes to bake, so the snapper would be the last thing in the oven. Meanwhile, she’d prepare rice for the fish and sour cream smashed potatoes for the potpies.

  Vicki touched Dani’s shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Did you get my message about providing some light appetizer trays?”

  “Yes. But since you didn’t give much warning, I had to go with what I could source quickly and had time to prepare,” Dani answered as she began to unload the carts and organize the kitchen. “I sent the additional invoice to your email and will expect a check tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  “That will be fine.” Vicki wrinkled her brow. “Mr. Whittaker just didn’t want people drinking on an empty stomach. What do you have?”

  “I’ve got lemon-flavored sun-dried tomato hummus, goat-cheese-and-pesto bites, turmeric curry deviled eggs, and antipasto skewers.”

  “Wow!” Vicki beamed. “Mr. Whittaker will be impressed that you could come up something that great at the last minute.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay. I have to go change into my dress and pick up Yvette’s ashes from the crematorium. I’ll see you back here at twelve fifteen. Please have the appetizer trays waiting for us whe
n we return.”

  When Vicki left, Dani began preparing the ingredients for the fish recipe. While they were sautéing, she arranged the assembly line for the dessert. Thankfully, the cake and hand pies were done and all she’d have to do was plate them and add a scoop of ice cream on the side when the diners were ready for their sweet course.

  As she worked, Dani glanced around the kitchen and saw there was a glass door that opened onto the country club’s veranda. Evidently, it was there to provide food service to those seated at the tables on the patio.

  A few minutes later, she spotted Gray as he led several men onto the veranda. They all had earpieces wired into radios clipped to their shoulders. She watched him direct his troops to concealed spots scattered around the gazebo.

  Turning away from the door, Dani wondered exactly how the police would obtain usable proof that Marc Chandler murdered Yvette. Illinois was one of the few states that allowed recorded evidence only if both parties gave consent, but maybe if the officers could hear what he said to Whittaker, they could testify.

  Dani was fixing the rice and smashed potatoes when Ivy, Tippi, and Starr arrived along with the other two girls who had been hired to serve at the event. She immediately put them to work assembling the appetizer platters.

  Dani and the girls were just taking the trays into the cocktail space when Mr. Whittaker stepped into the room. A distinguished-looking man in his fifties, he was tall and lean, with attractively styled silver hair. Wearing an expertly tailored dark suit with a crisp white shirt and a silk necktie, he was exactly how Dani had pictured him.

  He walked over to Dani, introduced himself, and asked her to call him Franklin, then said, “I had intended to meet with you after the engagement party. I wanted to thank you for all your hard work on that event.” He sighed. “Sadly, we never got to that part of the evening.”

  “I’m so sorry about how that night turned out.” Dani shook the hand he offered her. Considering everything she knew, she didn’t think it was wise to offer him her sympathy for the loss of his fiancée, so after a brief moment of silence, she asked, “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”