Rockabye Murder

by Diana Orgain

  “Yes?”

  “The picture you sent me from Monte’s showed that Hank invested in Dare to Dance right after Tre Fratelli Danzanti finished repaying his loan.”

  I tried to interpret what it meant. It was suspicious, certainly. What had caused Hank to have this change of heart? Why had he switched allegiances? Was it just a business opportunity that had presented itself?

  Was he now trying to help Monte take over the brothers’ studio altogether?

  “Anyway, I’ll have a little chat with Hank today,” said Galigani. “Want to come along?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “But let me touch base with Paula to see how she’s doing and if she needs anything from me.”

  I called Paula next. “How are you feeling, girl?”

  “I’m better. Still have a terrible headache,” Paula said.

  “Well, you took a pretty big blow to the head. Scared the daylights out of me,” I said.

  * * *

  “Yeah. Thank you for caring!” she said.

  I laughed. “Like I could help it. I swear if anything happens to you….I’ll…well…I don’t know what I’ll do, but we’re supposed to grow old together so don’t ruin my plans.”

  She chuckled. “I’m doing my best to stay alive. Speaking of which, I think Petunia might kill me if I don’t get the decorations up before the event. Can you come to the studio today to help me?”

  “Of course, but are you sure you should be working?” I asked in concern.

  “The doctors told me I had to lie around and do nothing strenuous—but I think if I can just boss you around it won’t be strenuous for me at all.”

  “Ha! Okay, count me in.”

  Even though I wanted to investigate Hank, I knew Galigani could take care of that without me. My best friend needed my help—someone had to make sure she didn’t overwork herself. Plus, helping Paula would give me a chance to hang out around the studio and watch for anything suspicious. Maybe she’d even remember something about the moment she was knocked out.

  I texted Galigani to let him know I was going to the studio instead. Then I got Laurie ready for the day. I put her in a cute little floral dress and added a flower headband. “If you’ll leave that on for just a little bit,” I said in a high-pitched voice, “I’ll be able to show everyone how you match Miss Petunia!”

  She tugged it off her head with a gurgle of glee.

  “Little duck!” I exclaimed, putting it back on. She wiggled and batted at it, dislodging it.

  Laurie had quite the mind of her own, and I knew there was no way I was going to win this battle. So, I abandoned the floral headband and added a tiny pink sweater to the ensemble.

  It took twice as long to get ready as seemed reasonable, but finally we headed out the door. We parked, and I sat without moving for a moment, staring at the storefront of Tre Fratelli Danzanti. “Three days,” I whispered. “We only have three more days to figure this out.”

  I bundled Laurie into the stroller, and as we headed into the studio, I spotted my mom’s car several spots down. “Grandma’s here!” I said to Laurie.

  Sure enough, another ghastly-looking concoction was perched on the front desk when we walked in. It appeared to be some sort of layered gelatin salad—or perhaps a monster from Candy Land. The dish was about half empty, so it couldn’t taste too bad. Mom’s recipes really all had turned out fairly tasty. But . . . we couldn’t present this to the event attendees. It just didn’t look appetizing.

  Good luck explaining that to mom.

  I headed back toward the sound of voices and found Mom and Paula hanging decorations in the first partitioned-off classroom. Further down, I could hear music. No doubt there was a lesson of some kind going on.

  “Darling!” Mom called when she saw me.

  Paula whirled, her hands full of black-and-white checkered fabric. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. I have a pounding headache, but we have to get this part done today.” She held up the cloth to emphasize her point.

  “We will get done whatever you need to get done,” I said in a calming voice. “Just show me what to do.”

  She showed me how to drape and hang the fabric, and I got to work up on a footstool, setting Laurie on the ground next to me. “So, Mom,” I said, “what was up with that dessert out front?”

  Mom, who had just finished draping the last of the cloth she was holding, clapped her hands in glee and scooped Laurie off the ground. “Why, it’s a seven-layer gelatin salad, dear.”

  Paula looked a little green and whispered, “I didn’t try it.”

  Mom pursed her lips. “Well, everyone who did try it liked it. Why, it’s mostly eaten already.”

  I hung another strip of fabric. “Maybe we should try to come up with something that looks a little more appetizing? It doesn’t matter how good it is if it doesn’t fit the aesthetic.”

  “I tried to tell her,” murmured Paula.

  Affronted, Mom said, “These are genuine 1950s recipes. I got them out of my mother’s cookbook.”

  “I’m sure they are,” I said in a soothing tone, “and they’ve all tasted great. Grandma was a wonderful cook, but the guests at the event aren’t going to know that. They’re going to make all their decisions based on what they can see, and you won’t have the opportunity to persuade them to give the iffy-looking food a chance.”

  Mom seemed to consider this, and then nodded, appeased. “Well, I’ll go look at all the recipes again when I’m home, and work on figuring out what will look the best. Perhaps that’s even more important than how it tastes.”

  “Maybe split the difference 50/50,” I offered. If she focused only on what it looked like . . . I shuddered as I imagined what some of the recipes might end up being. “Make sure that it looks great but also tastes pretty good.”

  “Of course,” she said, and her face was already alight with possibilities. “Oh, there are one or two I remember that I think will be just perfect.”

  “No savory popsicles,” I warned as I moved the footstool down a few feet.

  “But what if—”

  “No savory popsicles,” said Paula and I in unison.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Odette stride down the hall, past the door to the room we were decorating. Kenny wasn’t with her.

  “Hey, Odette,” I called.

  She stopped, glared at me, and stalked onward.

  Paula and I shared a look. “What was that about?” I asked. “Did I make her mad, or something?”

  “Maybe she just woke up grumpy,” said Paula.

  “Give me a second. I want to see what’s going on. Just in case I can dig up anything relevant.”

  I followed Odette down the hall and found her in one of the classrooms.

  “What’s up?” I called.

  She spun around, rage contorting her features. I took a step back. I’d never seen this side of her.

  “Kenny stood me up two nights ago,” she spat. “Because he was babysitting for you.”

  I held up my hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Hey, I’m sorry. It was an emergency.”

  Odette rolled her eyes. “Get out.”

  My temper flared, and I fought to keep myself calm. “Now, listen here. Kenny’s left me in a bind over and over again the past couple of weeks because he’s been spending every waking moment with you. And now you’re mad because one time—one time—when we had an actual emergency when my best friend was in the hospital, he skipped out on your date?” I practically yelled the word date.

  Guess I hadn’t kept myself calm.

  But the audacity! How was Kenny the one just out of high school? Did this girl—this grown woman, for crying out loud—think the whole world revolved around her? How self-absorbed could she be? Did she insist that her boyfriends only ever consider her feelings and never anyone else’s? I’d been concerned about Odette and Kenny as a couple for a while, but now I was certain. Kenny needed to ditch her for good.

  How am I going to convince him?

  “
Well,” said Odette, her voice deadly quiet, “he’ll be reliable for you now. I quit the music video. I’m not going to see him again.”

  Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have to talk him out of it. But she was quitting the music video over her hurt feelings? After all the work Kenny had put into it? Could she be any more selfish?

  Crossing my arms, I said, “Kenny spent a lot of time setting that up. You’re just walking out midway through, before it’s done?”

  Odette shrugged. “I guess so,” she said flippantly. “Now, get out. I have a class to teach.”

  Chapter 17

  When I got home that evening, I called Kenny. For the first time in weeks, he picked up on the first ring. “Kate?” His voice sounded dry and cracked, and my heart broke for him.

  “I ran into Odette at the studio,” I said gently. “She told me about what happened.”

  “She did? How did she seem?”

  I hesitated. “Angry.”

  He gave a long, desperate sigh.

  “Want to come over? I’ll order an all-meat pizza.”

  He laughed, and I thought I detected a hint of the old Kenny somewhere beneath his angst. No doubt layers of pepperoni, Italian sausage, and ham would start to bring him back to the land of the living.

  A knock sounded on the door, and Kenny said, “I’m already here.”

  Chuckling, I said, “It’s unlocked. Come on in.”

  Kenny pushed open the door, and Laurie immediately reached for him. I dialed our favorite pizza place and placed an order for an extra-large all-meat pizza with extra meat.

  “Can you get wings too?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Do you think your metabolism is normal?”

  He looked confused.

  “Anything else?” I asked. “There’s a coupon for a free pizza-size chocolate chip cookie.”

  He shook his head and sank onto the couch, still holding Laurie.

  I finished placing the order, adding the cookie on for myself. My metabolism may not be as fast as his, but I had little beings to nurture and I was fairly certain they were partial to chocolate.

  I sat down on the couch next to Kenny. He sighed.

  Poor kid is absolutely crushed.

  After a long pause, he said, “I think I have enough footage to finish editing the music video.”

  “Good!” I exclaimed. “I know you put a lot of work into that.”

  He fidgeted. “I just don’t know if I have the heart to finish. All that footage of Odette and me dancing . . .”

  “You should finish it. It’s a cool concept. But it’s all right to set it aside for a bit while everything is still fresh.”

  He sighed. “I was going to enter it into a contest. Entries are due at the end of the month.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said after a long pause. “I feel responsible—”

  “It’s not your fault. I needed to help out. It was important. She just . . . can’t seem to see that. Maybe it’s for the best.” He abruptly changed the subject. “Miss Laurie is getting so big!”

  We played with Laurie until the pizza arrived, and Kenny brightened at the sight of the all-meat pizza with extra meat and the heaping pile of wings.

  “Stuff yourself to the brim,” I ordered. “Best cure for a broken heart.”

  At the scent of food, Whiskers immediately materialized from wherever she’d been hiding. She rubbed up against me, pleading for a bite.

  “Little scammer,” I said. But I pulled a piece of ham off my slice of pizza and fed her from my hand.

  Kenny gorged himself on the pizza, folding the slices in half and stuffing them into this mouth at an alarming rate.

  “Don’t choke,” I said.

  He chuckled and said through a mouth-full, “Don’t worry. I’m a professional.”

  I smiled, relief setting over me.

  Kenny and Odette have broken up!

  I had my babysitter back, at least until Kenny went off to college. Selfish to even think in those terms, I knew, but it was so clear that Odette wasn’t good for him.

  Yes, it was painful for him to have the band-aid ripped off, but this was the best outcome for everyone.

  Whiskers clambered onto my lap and reared up, trying to take a bite directly out of the pizza.

  “No,” I said scowling. “This is not your pizza.”

  I ate one slice of the pizza—minus a few pieces of meat that I fed to Whiskers—and two wings, and Kenny devoured the rest of the food. He collapsed backward on the ground, a satisfied smile on his face. “You’re right. The broken heart hurts a little less, I think. I might need you to order me a meat pizza every night this month.”

  “Don’t count on it,” I said with a smirk.

  “Is there ice cream?” he asked.

  I laughed. “Of course! In the freezer. I was planning to pile it on top of that pizza-sized cookie.”

  Kenny scrambled to his feet. “I’m going to beat you to it!” Suddenly, his phone rang, and his eyes widened when he glanced at the screen.

  Oh no . . .

  He answered the phone, his voice squeaking, “Odette?”

  I rubbed my temples and let out a sigh.

  Kenny shuffled his feet. “Yes. Please. Absolutely. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He ran to the door as he hung up. “Sorry, Kate. Thanks for the food! I think I might be able to patch things up with Odette. Maybe I won’t need all those pizzas after all!”

  The door closed behind him before I could blink.

  Laurie stared mournfully after Kenny and let out a sad whimper.

  “Oh, little duck. He’ll be back. Eventually. That relationship is definitely not going to last.” I picked her up and planted kisses on her cheek.

  Well, so much for that taking care of itself.

  Galigani called soon after. “I talked to Hank,” he said.

  “Oh?” Anticipation and dread warred in my chest. I didn’t want it to be Hank. But if it wasn’t Hank, who could it be?

  Not Jack. Anyone but Jack.

  Well, anyone but Jack or Sharon or Eddie or Dave or Petunia.

  Galigani sounded altogether disappointed when he said, “I really don’t think it’s Hank. Turns out that his niece started working as a teacher at Dare to Dance, and he was giving them money to make sure they stayed open. He quit giving them money and announced he wanted to sell his share in the company—and the niece quit her job—when they learned from your mom about the plan to poach Tre Fratelli Danzanti’s students. Said it’s not how honest people did business. He showed me the emails he sent, and I talked to the niece too.”

  Laurie grabbed at the phone, and I set her down on the ground next to the newly babyproofed cabinets.

  “When did he send the emails?” I asked, tossing the pizza box in the kitchen trash. “Was it after we questioned him? Could he be trying to throw us off his trail?”

  “Well, of course it was. We didn’t know what was going on with Todd and Kim until after that. But . . . he also showed me his investment accounts and bank records.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “His investment accounts?”

  The front door opened and closed, and Jim came into the kitchen and gave me a kiss. I pointed to the phone and mouthed, Galigani. Jim nodded, picked up Laurie, and carried her into the living room.

  “Suffice it to say Petunia wasn’t kidding when she said he was loaded. His pharmacy business has always made good money, and he turned it into a fortune in the stock market. He bought a load of Amazon stock at twenty bucks a share. Made some other good stock picks too. Let’s just say this guy doesn’t care if he loses twenty grand. Certainly not worth killing anyone over.”

  I whistled. “Imagine being so rich you don’t care if you lose twenty grand.”

  “Oh, I’ve been imagining it half the day, kid.” Undeniable jealousy laced Galigani’s voice.

  “And he’s still working as a pharmacist?”

  “He says it keeps him busy but that he’s glad the business runs itself so he can travel as much as
he wants. Hey, kid?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell your mom how rich Hank is. He says he doesn’t really tell anyone, but that he figured he’d make an exception to clear his name so that we could spend our energy chasing the real killer.”

  “You worried his money will make him impossibly attractive?” I teased.

  “That much money never hurt a man’s chances,” he grumped. “Besides, he doesn’t want her to know. Wants her to make her choice without being influenced by all that, and I can’t say I blame him.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I grabbed a washcloth and started wiping down the counter. “I suppose that means the gambling debt theory is a dead end, too.”

  “If Hank had anything to do with Leo’s death, it was personal, not business,” said Galigani. “And we’ve got no reason to think he had anything personal against him.”

  Leaning over the counter, I sighed. “Then what on earth is going on?”

  “I don’t know,” said Galigani grimly. “But we’re running out of time to figure it out.”

  We hung up, and I set the rag in the sink and stared morosely at my to-do list, letting my thoughts run unimpeded.

  To Do:

  Talk with Galigani re: Hank.

  Check in with Paula.

  Find Wonder Woman thing for Nick’s wife? What do nerds like?

  Finish babyproofing every cabinet Laurie can reach.

  Hang posters around town.

  Get new prime suspect.

  Figure out childcare.

  * * *

  I’d checked off nearly half the items, but get a new prime suspect sent shivers of anxiety down my spine. It wasn’t just that I needed a new prime suspect—with only three days left until the fundraiser, I needed to catch a killer before someone else got hurt.

  And I desperately needed reliable childcare.

  Jim walked into the room and frowned. “You okay? You look worried.”

  “I think we need to find another nanny,” I said, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

  Jim’s brows furrowed. “Is Kenny not working out? I know he’s been wrapped up in his new girlfriend, but the infatuation phase will pass soon.” Jim scooped Laurie into the air and she giggled.