One Poison Pie

by Lynn Cahoon

  “I thought the kitchen guys were coming.”

  “Crap, did someone call the contractor?” She glanced at her grandmother. “Let me guess: Trent handled it. Okay, I’ll get them going, then collapse on the couch.” She reached for the potato chips and Grans slapped her hand. “What?”

  The woman didn’t even take her eyes off the road. “No eating in my car. New rule.”

  Mia slipped back into her seat, thankful the ride was almost over. She glanced back at Christina. “You didn’t say how your dinner with Isaac went. Everything okay between the two of you?”

  Christina sighed and pulled out her earbuds, shutting off her MP3 player. “I’d say normal. I got lecture number 534, in which he explained how important college is and how I’m breaking Mom’s heart by not going.”

  “I thought you said you were going in the summer.” Mia watched the front of the house as Grans pulled the car into the driveway.

  “That’s what I told him. But he was so far into the speech he couldn’t stop. The guy never listens. How did you put up with him for so long?” Christina jumped out of the car as soon as Grans parked, grabbing the grocery bags. Apparently she didn’t expect an answer to her question.

  Grans patted Mia’s hand. “She has a point.”

  “I’m not there now. That’s all that matters.” Mia groaned as she pulled herself out of the front seat. “Time for a long soak in that amazing tub of mine.”

  “I’ll make us some lunch, and by the time you get out we’ll eat in front of the television. I brought over Sleepless in Seattle.” Grans moved next to her and the two women walked up the steps.

  Mia couldn’t help thinking the last time she’d seen Adele, she and Grans had been walking away from the house. Would she always have that memory when she thought of Adele?

  Christina stood in the doorway, holding open the door. Now a new memory hit Mia and almost knocked her to her knees. She’d walked in, expecting to see Mr. Darcy next to some overturned furniture, and then blackness. She paused in the doorway.

  Grans gently pulled at her arm. “It’s your home; don’t let the troubles win.”

  Mia smiled, nodded, and stepped into the hallway. When she didn’t black out she let loose a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She barked a short laugh and Grans frowned. “I’ve made it into the building. That’s a good sign.”

  The trio made their way upstairs to the apartment. Christina, even carrying all the bags, made it there twice as quickly as Mia and Grans. For the first time Mia questioned buying the enormous school building. What happened if she got hurt? Or if she couldn’t work? How would she get up and down two flights of stairs?

  “Don’t bring tomorrow’s worries out for today.” Grans paused on the landing. “I think I’m doing pretty good for an old broad.”

  “You shouldn’t read my mind. You never know what you’ll find.” Mia took her grandmother’s arm and helped her up the remaining stairs.

  “Like that weekend you were supposed to sleep over at Marsha’s, but really you were meeting Kevin at the lake?”

  Mia laughed. “I always wondered how you knew.”

  “Until you found out I had magic.” Grans smiled as they reached the apartment. “Of course it didn’t hurt that I saw you sneak out the sleeping bag with your overnight bag. I knew that boy was trouble and wasn’t supposed to be in your life. It just took you a little longer to see his true colors.”

  “Grans.” Mia felt the heat on her face. Her bad boy stage hadn’t lasted long, but she’d been convinced that Kevin was her future. Until she’d found out that because she hadn’t gone to the lake that weekend, he’d found someone else to warm his sleeping bag.

  “That’s the seedy underside of reading minds. You don’t always hear what you want to hear.” Her grandmother paused at the top of the stairs, and Mia could see the tiredness on her face.

  Christina reappeared in the apartment doorway. “I put the bags in the kitchen. You need help making lunch?”

  Grans walked over to the doorway and patted Christina’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I said I was making lunch. I’m fine. A couple of flights of stairs aren’t going to take me out for the day.”

  “Then I’m going to my room to check my email before we do the movie day thing.” Christina took Grans at her word. Mia, on the other hand, knew the toll the last few days had taken on her grandmother. Christina paused before she left the kitchen. “I don’t think I’ve seen Sleepless.”

  “Deprived child, I will educate you in the magic that is Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.” Mia swept a hair out of Christina’s eyes. “Thanks for helping out yesterday.”

  Mia could have sworn she saw a look of pain cross her face.

  “No problem.” Christina headed down the hall.

  Mia bit her lip and watched her disappear. Blood or love, who knew what would win out? She just hoped Christina knew what she really wanted.

  “You think she’s working for Isaac?” Grans’s voice went low.

  “I think it’s a possibility.” Mia should have known her grandmother was thinking the same thing. “If you’re sure you’re okay to make lunch, I’m going to my room for a minute. I’m beat. And a long, hot shower might just help. I’ll see you after I get cleaned up. If I don’t show up in an hour, send submarines in to find me.”

  “Thirty minutes. I’m making chicken tortellini soup and rolls.” Grans hugged Mia, then pushed her away. “You stink.”

  “Love you too.” Mia disappeared into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. The first thing she did was move the vanity mirror over to uncover the small wall safe she’d found when she moved in. The Realtor had given her the combination with the closing papers. She clicked off the numbers, then pulled the door open. Her cookbook and the copy were still there. She touched the cover and sighed in relief. She’d known Isaac and Christina wouldn’t have been able to find the safe—not without a little help—but it felt good to know her book was safe. A knock sounded at her door.

  “Just a minute.” Quickly she closed the safe, spun the lock, and checked the door. She moved the mirror back to cover the wall and stepped over to open the door. Christina stood there, tears flowing down her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you think Isaac did this? I mean sent someone to hurt you? Would he?” Christina glanced toward the kitchen, “I heard what Grans said.”

  “She’s just worried, that’s all.” Mia wiped a tear from Christina’s face. “Your brother wouldn’t hurt me. He doesn’t like me right now, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me.”

  “That’s just the thing. I’m not sure that’s true.” Christina’s head dropped. Then she spun around and sprinted to her bedroom, leaving a dazed Mia standing in the hallway watching her go.

  * * *

  When Grans announced that lunch was ready the three huddled on the couch eating soup and watching Meg Ryan try to assure herself she had magic with the man she was about to marry. Christina didn’t speak. No chatter, no groaning at the sappy parts, only a thank-you for the soup and then she was silent.

  Grans glanced over at Mia after an hour of the silent treatment and Mia shrugged her shoulders. Christina needed the time to work out whatever was bothering her. Eventually she’d talk, but even then, Mia knew Isaac’s part in the break-in would be questionable. She didn’t like the guy, but she’d lived with him for long enough to know he wouldn’t do this type of crap; not to her, not to anyone. He was more of a liar and a cheat rather than someone who would take on criminal activities.

  After the movie Christina carried their bowls into the kitchen. Mia heard the water running as Christina rinsed the dishes, then Mia saw her slip on her jacket. “You going out?”

  Christina turned. “Just for a while. I want to walk around the square.”

  And with that, she disappeared out of the apartment. Mia looked at Grans. “You think I should go with her?”

  “She needs some time. You said it yourself. Her brother is a jerk; she kno
ws that. Now she has to deal with the fact that he might have also orchestrated this whole attack on you.” Grans shushed her. “Even if he didn’t plan the attack, he was more than willing to use the situation in his favor. And that she knows.”

  “I hate Isaac. Hurting me is one thing; hurting his sister, that’s just cruel.” Mia thought about calling the hotel and giving him a piece of her mind. But what would be the use? As if she thought it into being, the phone rang. She picked up the cordless receiver. “Mia Malone.”

  Dead silence on the other end of the line, but Mia thought she could hear someone breathing. “Who is this?”

  “Wrong number,” a familiar male voice responded. Then she heard a click.

  Grans glanced up from her knitting. “Isaac?”

  “Not Isaac. It’s just, I mean, I thought I knew that voice.” Mia frowned, trying to remember. As she tried to focus, the phone chirped again. Mia answered it curtly. “Who is this?”

  “Carrie Jones? We met at the lovely wake you catered? I mean, the wake wasn’t lovely, but the food was amazing. I’m sorry, did I wake you? I heard you had some issues.”

  Mia remembered the petite blonde who’d stopped by their table after the chaos with Adele’s nephew. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little stressed.” She put a smile on her face, hoping the action would show up in her tone of voice. “What can I help you with?”

  “I need a caterer for my husband’s work event. Nothing big like you were planning for Adele’s birthday, poor thing.” Carrie Jones went on to explain the details as Mia grabbed a notebook from the coffee table and started making notes. When she hung up Mia had an event in two weeks and a real smile on her face.

  “I told you putting out your business cards at the event was a smart move.” Grans smirked. “I’ve gotten you two of two events you’ve booked.”

  “And look how well the last event turned out.”

  Grans gasped and threw a couch pillow at her. “You ungrateful child.”

  “Just kidding. The business cards were brilliant, if a tad tacky.” She held up her hands in surrender, “Of course I think most advertising borders on tacky, so who am I to judge?”

  “Exactly.”

  Mia pulled out the list of contractors to get a phone number. She stood and walked into the kitchen to sit at her desk and start planning. “Brent? Mia Malone. I’m just checking in on the status of the main kitchen. You still think we can be operational by mid next week?”

  Mia scribbled on a yellow pad while she talked. When she hung up she felt fairly confident she could pull off this job without borrowing the Lodge kitchen from James. The Joneses were hosting at their home, and from what Carrie described, their kitchen would be adequate for the job if she could prep here. The kitchen downstairs would be perfect, but it hadn’t been inspected and approved yet. Doing catering from her home apartment, she could risk any fall out because the majority of the cooking would be at Carrie’s. She glanced around the small kitchen in the apartment. Not the best prep kitchen, but in a pinch she’d be fine.

  Things were finally looking up. Especially because Carrie loved the idea of roast squab. When the phone rang a third time Mia smiled before answering. Good things come in threes, she thought.

  “Mia Malone,” she almost singsonged into the receiver.

  “You should get out of town before the next hit on the head takes you out permanently.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Mia was still reeling from the call. Her mind kept replaying the threatening message. But somehow she’d done all the things she was supposed to do. Call the police, gather up Grans and Christina so she knew where everyone was, and then wait for Baldwin to show up. He’d come faster than she’d expected and she’d had to go downstairs to let him in to the school while she was still chopping veggies.

  He’d come into the kitchen and asked her question after question about the call. Most of them she couldn’t answer. But she could make a beef vegetable soup while he grilled her. So she did.

  The questioning was over before the soup was ready. Baldwin assured her that he would get to the bottom of this. Now, with the soup simmering, she needed a new project to keep her mind off the fact that someone had threatened to kill her. Or at least scare her. He’d been successful in doing that. How she reacted now was up to her. Go screaming into the night and away from Magic Springs? Or stay and fight?

  Right now she had a catering job to work on. The running away would have to be postponed for another day.

  Mia found her clipboard and went to the living room to find her grandmother. “Grans, what do you think about setting up a picnic lunch theme. With a buffet of salads? Squab instead of fried chicken? People are health conscious today. You think I can pull it off as upscale?” She froze in the doorway when she finally looked up from her list and saw the visitor with Grans. She’d thought he’d left an hour ago after drilling her about the phone call.

  Grans sat in one of the wingback chairs and Christina sat on the floor nearby. Officer Baldwin sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and a plate of cookies in front of him. He wiped cookie crumbs from his mustache and picked up his pen, aiming it toward Mia. “I had a few more questions for you after interviewing your grandmother and roommate. You didn’t tell me about the hang-up call. Were the hang-up and the threatening calls from the same guy?”

  “I don’t think so. Something about the first guy sounded vaguely familiar, but I only heard one word.” Mia’s head had started pounding again a few minutes before. Now she just wanted to be alone to sleep this headache off.

  “I thought he said ‘wrong number?’” Baldwin checked his notes.

  “He did.” Mia rubbed her temples.

  “That’s two words.” He tapped his pen against the table. “It’s important that you stay consistent and accurate in your statement. Cases are lost at trial and murderers go free just because of errors like this.”

  Mia bit her lip, willing the words to stay in her head and not fly out to bite off this guy’s head. She took a breath and started to respond, but Grans interrupted her.

  “Mark, I have some questions about what happened to Adele. The world has gone a little crazy the last week or so, don’t you think?”

  “Mrs. Carpenter, I can’t speak to an open investigation, you know that.” He sat up straighter and straightened his tie on his blue uniform shirt. “And, please, either call me ‘Officer’ or ‘Officer Baldwin,’ not Mark.”

  “Pshaw, I’ve called you Mark since I babysat you when your folks used to attend all the Lodge events. You think just because you’re grown up I don’t remember the trouble you used to get into?” Grans patted his leg. “Remember the day you got locked in the cellar because you were playing Twister? We’ve never even seen a tornado up here in the Magics.”

  “Mrs. Carpenter, please. I need to talk to Mia.” Officer Baldwin glanced over at the door. “Do you mind?”

  “There’s nothing Mia can tell you about poor Adele. She had nothing to do with this. Tell me about your mother and her new husband’s place in Florida. How do they like Tampa?” Grans leaned back and watched the police officer expectantly.

  “Grans, we’ll be in the kitchen.” Mia walked out of the living room, waiting for the officer to follow her. When he did she sat at the table.

  Mia nodded toward the room they’d just left and her grandmother. “She’s a bit overprotective.”

  “Believe me, I know. Once a neighbor kid tried to steal my quarters at the arcade. I thought she was going to go all Rambo on the guy. I really liked her as a babysitter. Never boring when she came over to the house.” He glanced at the door. “Just make sure you don’t tell her I said so.”

  Mia grinned; the guy may not be as bad as she thought. “Our secret.” She scooted toward the front of the chair.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “Just a few more questions.” Office Baldwin pulled out his notebook. He looked up at her from the page, his eyebrows bunching together into one Muppet brow.
<
br />   Why did men think that waxing was only a female option for overabundant body hair? Mia tried to look away, but the brow kept drawing her in. He’d already asked the question when Mia heard the question mark. “Sorry,” she almost blurted out, “woolgathering,” but thought better of it.

  “Again, where were you the night Adele was murdered?” Now he tapped his pencil on the table.

  Mia leaned back. So much for kindred souls. “I told you the last time we talked. I was here.”

  “Except for the time you went for a walk.” He glanced at his notes. “Around the square because you were nervous?”

  Mia sighed. “Yes, except for that walk, I was here.”

  The man stared for a full second, then nodded. “And you were hired by Adele to cater her birthday? Didn’t you think that strange because you weren’t even open for business yet?”

  “Officer Baldwin, you obviously grew up here and know my grandmother. She and Adele were friends. Do I have to spell it out for you? It was a pity job. Grans made her ask me.” Mia rubbed her temple; the headache wasn’t going away easily. “Do you have any new questions?”

  Office Baldwin scribbled in his pad. He nodded. “Just one. Tell me what happened to your missing knife.”

  “Hold on a second.” Mia stood and poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip before she answered, hoping the caffeine would help cut the edge off the headache. “The day before the party I took my knives to the hotel with my prep. I should have brought them back home—I never leave my knives anywhere—but I was distracted. By the time I realized I’d left them at the Lodge, I figured the kitchen would be closed.”

  “When did you realize a knife was missing from the set?”

  “Yesterday—well, not yesterday but Saturday, when I dropped off Christina at the Lodge. Spending a couple of days in the hospital messes with your sense of time. Anyway, I went back to the kitchen and found my case stuffed under a shelf. One of the knives was missing then. We searched the kitchen.”

  “We?” Baldwin had filled a cup with coffee and now stirred sugar into the cup, the deep roast smell comforting Mia in an odd way. He glanced around the table for creamer but didn’t ask. Mia didn’t offer either. Baldwin could drink his coffee black.